Sebbylite

Ok, so I jumped all over Valentine’s Day (I didn’t blog much about it, but every single conversation I had on V-Day sounded something like this: “Valentine’s Day sucks. And discuss.”), and I think that all the negativity is getting me down. To counteract that, I am going to now channel my inner-chick, and give you a list of things that make me happy. Here goes:

• Birds that live inside supermarkets (actually indoors and in the rafters). Now that is a way to beat the system.
• When my dog gets so excited playing tetherball that his slobber swings around and ends up on his face.
• A sunny day and a nice view of the Olympics, or the Cascades, or Mt. Rainier, etc.
• My vagina…damnit, too much inner-chick.
• Certain songs (“Marvo Ging”, by The Chemical Brothers. “Kissing Families”, by Silversun Pickups. “Molly’s Chambers”, by Kings of Leon. “Say Valley Maker”, By Smog).
• When people’s names are bad words or make me think impure thoughts (Mr. Weiner, Mrs. Babcock, the Hathcock sisters, the Wang’s who live next door, and the kicker-my dentist’s name is Dick Steele)
• Thinking about a tall man giggling. But still, I have to admit that I was openly giggling the first time I saw it, and making health care students all around me increasingly nervous. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a shaggy 6’8″ guy giggling uncontrollably. It’s breathtaking, I assure you.
• Using new words (like “thangs”, “misunderestimated”, or “supposably”), and passing them off as real.
• Feeling a sneeze coming on, turning to the person that I am walking/driving with, and sneezing all over them. Then running.
• Conversations with my brother:
  

  Him: I need a ruling from the judges. This girl gave me a Valentine’s Day Card that said this-”I think that you are a very special person, and the World is better for having you in it.” Does this mean that she is calling me retarded?
  Me: Yes, that is the only way that you can translate what she said.
  Him: I think that we aren’t going to work out as a couple.
  Me: Why, because she called you retarded? You are, you know.
  Him: I know. But I talked to her about it, and she doesn’t think that she called me retarded. This means either a) she has no sense of humor, or b) my sense of humor will get in the way of us dating. Whichever one it is, it won’t work out between us.
  Me: True. Bummer.

Well, at the very least writing all that down put me in a little bit better mood.