The triumphant return of the Jewish Anti-Mouse Song

Yesterday at work, the ladies restroom nearest the library was out of order. Before you ask, the library at my work is basically a room and some offices in a much larger building, so no, there isn't a bathroom in the library. Anywho, I had to go all the way to the bathroom that is not at all close to the library. Tragic, eh? On my way back to the library, I took a look at the out of order sign on the bathroom door. It was a hand-written sign, in Sharpie, saying, "Do Not Use! Out of Order!" Then in tiny letters near the bottom of the sign it read, "There is a mouse in this bathroom." Ha!

Now, don't get me wrong, I certainly do not want to be in the same bathroom as a mouse. As the title of this blog vaguely alludes, I hate mice enough that once, in a somewhat panicked and tearful state, I made up a song about mice set to a tune from Fiddler on the Roof. It went a little something like this: "May the Lord protect you from mouses..." That's actually all I wrote of it. At that point, I believe I was taken by a fit of hysterics, no doubt caused by my traveling uterus.
So as I said, I don't want to use a bathroom infested by mouse. However, if that mouse was alive, there's no way it was still in the bathroom. They're wily and evil, and can escape through unnaturally small spaces. And if the mouse was dead, then why the heck couldn't they just get rid of the darn thing? I suppose that's a mystery for another day, or, more likely, one that will never be solved at all, since the bathroom is open for use again today.

Here, to finish us off, are the only mice in the world I like.


That's right, cartoon mice. And even some of them are a little scary. I'm looking at you, Basil.

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Oh, sorry, I was so bored that I fell asleep and my face landed on my keyboard. Honestly, working on Friday is so lame! There's never anything to do. On the bright side, it doesn't matter very much that I'm pretty much always late on Fridays and then I take a really long lunch. The lunch thing is not my fault though. It's impossible to walk to the institute, eat lunch, and walk back to work in only half an hour. It takes me almost that long to do all the walking! And I need my leisurely lunch, too!

Enough about me, and on to the current travesty of my life--no one here in Maryland (except the enlightened few who are originally from Utah) know what Cinnamon Bears are! How is this possible??!??!??!?? Cinnamon bears are my most favorite candy in the world unless you count their chocolate covered compatriots, the chocolate covered cinnamon bears. I have made it my life's mission to educate the masses about cinnamon bears, although it's hard when certain people at work keep assuming they're like cinnamon sticks. Um, no. That would be gross. And bizarre. So, for the sake of posterity, this is a cinnamon bear! Or, more specifically, a bunch of cinnamon bears.


They do not taste like the cinnamon you put on your toast or in your pumpkin pie. They are hot, like a fire ball or a red hot. You know, they're cinnamon candy. And they don't have the consistency of gummy bears. They're more like Dots. Sigh. Why these aren't more widely available, I'll never know.

There are other travesties in the world and in my life right now, but I'm trying to be positive and not blog about them (darn you, politics!). So I will leave you with this fabulous bit of news: It's almost the season for Cinnamon Devil Heads, and you know what that means. Halloween!

I <3 Dogs

Y'all, I have just discovered the show Dogtown on National Geographic, and I am hooked. It's about the dog sanctuary at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary near Kanab. That's right, Kanab, UT. I have seriously been watching videos from Dogtown on Youtube for the last hour and crying. Especially the video of poor Bruno! All of the dogs have had such hard lives and so many problems. It's really inspirational, seeing what a difference these people can make, and it's really sad when things don't work out. The way we treat animals in our society says a lot about how we treat each other. Even people who aren't animal lovers should treat animals humanely.

I learned about the show because their season premiere was about some of the dogs taken from Michael Vicks dog-fighting operation. I never knew that pit bulls could be so cute and lovable. Here's a couple of them:


How could anyone see those sweet faces and mistreat them?

This isn't really a coherent post, but I wanted share what I've been thinking about. And be proud that such an awesome organization is in Utah.

Boo-urns!

It burns! I burned my wrist today whilst making bacon. I'm reminded of a quote from the movie Fever Pitch. "You love bacon, but when has it ever loved you back?" When indeed. As I currently try to rig up some kind of way to soak my wrist in cold water while I'm asleep tonight (so far it involves tupperwear, a lawn chair, and sleeping with my head at the foot of the bed), I am thinking I may have to make the leap to Facon. My only hope now is that I will get a scar shaped like Lincoln or the Virgin Mary.

To sleep, perchance to dream

Dreams are funny things, eh? Just the other night, I dreamed that I married the leader of a large vacuum conglomerate. He had dust busters for hands. We owned a lot of beach front property that had recently been damaged by a large storm. And for our first date we went and ate waffles.

What does this mean? I hope nothing, because it's just plain weird. I would say the weirdest dream in recent memory. I know some people say dreams can be prophetic, and I'm sure that's true, but I always wonder--with crap like this going on in my subconscious, how would I ever be able to trust anything I dreamed about? I also wonder how a guy who has dust buster hands can eat a waffle. How does he hold the fork?

Random bits of buttery goodness

I feel remiss for not having posted lately. My only excuse is school. In fact, school has not as of yet released me from it's cruel choke hold, so this post will be short and relatively unimportant. But since I am currently wallowing in the pit of despair, I thought maybe this post should be a bit about things that make me happy.

1. Bacon-When did I develop this great love for the crispy deliciousness of the other white meat? I can't say for certain, but I am certainly addicted now.

2. Taking the shrink wrap off DVDs. Mmmm. That sounds so relaxing about now.

3. Plantains-I had never eaten this banana-like food until I moved to Maryland, but now I want to name my first child Plantain. Or at least learn how to cook this uber delicious food.

4. Step Up 2: The Streets- Better than Step Up: Original Flavor for two reasons-Less plot, more dancing. Plus, I had a hilarious dream a few nights ago guest starring the guy from Step Up 2: The Streets and Bart Simpson.

5. The Wheaton Library book sale-How much money have I spent there since I moved to Maryland? The surprising answer is "Way less than I would have if I had payed full price for all those books!" Mecca.

6. Baby Platypi-I want some.

I could go on, but I actually have to go back to the scheduled soul-crushing. Wait!! Augh! Kittens! Rainbows! Real butter! Cemeteries! (That might sound weird, but I really do like them) Dark Chocolate! Pickles! Vacation! All I ever wanted! Vacation! Having to get away!
Whew, back to zen.

SHARK WEEK!!!!!!

Oh, the joys of Shark Week. Every night for an entire week, shows about sharks on Discovery. Things I learned:

It's hard to make a shark bite you.
But some people want a shark to bite them.
Sharks won't eat RoboDog.
The Bahamas is teeming with sharks.
The shark in Jaws is unrealistic.
Sharks are attracted to flashlights and clown suits.
You should go for the eyes if a shark attacks you, but you will probably be dead or severely maimed before you find them.

And I could go on! But I will end instead by telling you that our culminating Shark Week event was a trip to Rehoboth Beach in Delaware. And what did we see out in the water?

Sharks!!! JK, it was dolphins. Seriously, this was the best shot we could get, although we saw at least 12 dolphins at the same time. Some of them jumped out of the water a bit. It was sweet. Here's me playing in the ocean:


And with Kenisha:


My secret life:

You had no idea, right? I'm actually a mermaid princess, much like the daughters of Triton. Here's my throne:


Finally, here's Kenisha, Kadona, and me, playing in the sand, after my fins were surgically removed. There's no such thing as a legless Top Doll!

I also left with an unwanted Shark Week souvenir-the mother of all sunburns. Not really, but it does hurt real bad. Sigh. Tragically, I won't even get a tan from it. You just watch.

Until next year, Happy Shark Week!