I suspect . . .

. . . that after driving through San Francisco's teeny tiny streets with their bajillion trillion streetlights I will no longer mind the moderate amount of lights when driving through Sacramento. 

I suspect . . .

 . . . that the Internet is weird. 

Forget suspecting. I KNOW the internet is weird; I think everybody does. But today I was checking out my StatCounter for like the first time in a year (I forgot I had it and tried to make a new one, oops) and I started clicking on how people find my blog. 

Aaaaaand enter the weird. Did you know that people actually search "Put poo in perfume"?!? From my post about spilling perfume when a foster kitten had diarrhea? (Ew, BTW). But seriously. Put poop in perfume? WHO WOULD DO THAT?! 

Apparently, a few readers. 

UPDATE: 

I've been thinking about this "poo in perfume" person. (I had ample time to do so while biking with Nick to school and then again on the way home.) I suppose there might actually be REASONS for googling such a thing. A few I have thought of include: 

1) This person (oh! they live in London, by the way, so let's call them Queenie) received some perfume as a present and it smells awful. They googled "poo in perfume" to see if it is an actual type, (in which case their friend doesn't want them dead) or if the poo smell is from their friend actually mixing poo and perfume together in which case the friend probably wants them to come down with E. Coli. Either way Queenie needs to dump this friend; they're toxic. 

2) Queenie is a fervent vegan soul working for PETA (or the UK equivalent) who is trying to find ways of suing perfume companies by accusing them of mixing the poop of unwilling animals into their bottles. 

3) Queenie is actually a thirteen-year-old boy trying to piss off his sister. 

OH MY GOD THERE IS NO REASON TO GOOGLE "PUT POO IN PERFUME". THIS IS GOING TO HAUNT ME ALL NIGHT LONG. 

You Know You Need More Sleep . . .

. . . when it takes you until three in the afternoon to realize your underwear is on backwards.

(Full Disclosure: they're the boy style panties so it's not as uncomfortable as you might be imagining).

In any case, I suspect that I need to be more awake when getting dressed.

Wondering . . . (AKA My Oversharing: Let Me Share It With You)

. . . if there is a way to physically share the feelings of exactly how sucky it is to have IBS and period cramps and how amplify each other and then radiate down your knees and around to your back and then back again.

I spent the morning curled into a ball on the couch with a heating pad on my abdomen, (but not too high or I felt nauseated), snarling at anybody who talked to me, hating IBS and the fact that your period makes IBS symptoms worse which was definitely obvious, goddammit.

Craving

. . . for a fast-food burger? Satisfied.

Guess who had the Carl's Jr. Famous Star burger? TWICE? (I scraped off the mayo.) They were the most delicious burgers I have ever tasted. They didn't even really upset my stomach!

. . . for chocolate? Satisfied. I keep nibbling on a chocolate almond bar. (The idea is veeeery small amounts so it doesn't upset my tummy.)

. . . for gingerbread men? Satisfied. I baked homemade gingerbread men (okay, they were hearts, not men) and iced them and they were delicious!

I hope that I can satisfy more food cravings soon! Keep doing the good work, Kapidex! (Also, I heart Lexapro. I feel much more calm than I used to!)

Wondering . . .

 . . . why adults can't just lie down and sleep on the floor when we are as pooped as Rocky is here. 

 

Craving . . .

. . . the biggest, baddest, most Denny's-esque brunch. You know the type. Eggs and cheese, bacon, hash browns, more bacon, more hash browns, some syrup and ketchup for dipping . . . and refillable hot chocolate with whipped cream.

I dream of this because I can't have it anymore. Even now having two scrambled eggs and some toast for breakfast make me too full! I haven't had chocolate in ages, and haven't craved it until I was just thinking of a huge breakfast and what to drink with it. I haven't had dessert or candy in ages either. I didn't even have pie at Thanksgiving! For dessert then I had sweet potato casserole with pecans, and it was delicious.

This morning I weighed 137. Recall my starting weight was 153. I have lost 16 pounds.

I bought size 6 American Eagle Boyfriend pants, and now they're feeling a bit baggy. Crap.

Suspicions

I suspect that I should not be allowed behind the wheel of a vehicle after spending three hours at the mall, dragging Nick store to store in an attempt to find the perfect cologne for him. I suspect this because I drove over a curb and almost drove over a (stupid!) pedestrian on my way home. I had sexy cologne intoxication!

(Favorites right now* are Real by American Eagle, Fierce by Abercrombie & Fitch, and Farenheit by Dior.)

*Favorites by me. Nick puts up with them. ^_^

Wondering . . .

. . . How often the seats at college lecture halls are cleaned. The "yellow" is actually dirt-encrusted. Yick!

. . . If I should feel guilty for flipping out at Dad and Troy and Quentin for eating the last of the chicken pot pie, and my scones, and snacking on my muffins THAT I MAKE SPECIFICALLY FOR ME AND MY SPECIAL STUPID DIET.

. . . Why I started tearing up and had to bite my lip not to cry when my Micro neighbor told me how they ended up with their foster son.

. . . How sore my arm will be tomorrow from the H1N1 flu shot I got, and whether or not I will get any of the side effects from that and/or the seasonal flu mist I got today.

. . . If my parents will end up going on that 23 day cruise from China to Alaska for their 30th anniversary. I hope so! It sounds fabulous!

Craving

Cream cheese. I am craving a blueberry bagel with cream cheese, and instead I have to make do with margarine because I have been off of dairy for over three weeks now to see if that will help my stomach in case I'm lactose intolerant, and now I crave cream cheese. 

Suspicions

I suspect that when I yank up my blankets to cover my freezing shoulders, my covers are not moving at all and instead I am pulling myself down towards the end of the bed, due to the two loads of laundry and many different books tossed haphazardly on my bed, so that I am squished on the last twelve inches of bed available.

Chicken Pot Pie

I believe there is nothing in the world at this time that is as delicious as home made chicken pot pie. With ketchup.