Public restrooms are indeed public.

I love listening to others conversations. If I'm involved in the conversation, I have to feign interest. However, in listening to conversations that I am in no way involved in, I am able to ridicule to my hearts content. Take this conversation I overheard today in the bathroom being yelled between stalls.


Girl-behind-door-one: "I just wasted 45 minutes watching Pan-Am. Have you seen that show?"
Girl-behind-door-two: "No... What is it?"
"It's just this show. It's really dumb actually. I just watch it for the clothes."
"Oh, that's a good reason."


Now, if this last sentence had been said sarcastically, I would understand. In fact, I would probably say something like that. However, it was said in all seriousness. Because apparently watching a pointless show is more productive when you're just watching it for the clothing.

Little Jack Horner

Almost everyone wants to know what their future is going to be like, right? It's even gotten to the point that people make a living off of being "predictors" of the future.

But how many people actually believe that what a fortune teller tells you is absolute?

Better yet, how many people believe that what a NEEDLE tells you is absolute? (Yes, you read that correctly.)

See, apparently there's this game. You tie a string around a needle, tap it against your hand, then let it spin above your palm. This is supposedly going to predict your children--how many you'll have and what their gender will be. If the spin pattern of the needle is oval, it's a girl. If it's a straight line, it's a boy.

Absolute hooey, right?

Unfortunately, when I heard of this game, I was not in the company of those who agreed with that statement. In fact, these people put 100% of their faith in this needle. One girl even went so far as to say, multiple times, that she didn't WANT to have seven kids, but the needle had told her, so it must be true.

Oddly enough, these girls didn't seem too pleased when I refused to "have my children predicted." Fortunately, I was able to save face by claiming that "I'd rather just wait for the surprise." Apparently, this answer was acceptable, considering that one girl said she didn't blame me, because it WAS rather freaky.

I just bit my tongue and continued to laugh silently to myself.

I guess he really just wanted to see his surroundings.

Unfortunately, those surroundings were limited to... Me. Who is "he"? Oh, just the Indian man I saw in the library today. Yeah, he was making out with some girl and staring at me simultaneously.

No big deal.

It's not like it creeped me out much or anything.

Sometimes I feel like my life is just one giant fart.

This morning began as any other Monday/Wednesday. Jeffro and I awoke at 8am to the soothing sounds of Bon Iver. I reached over to the nightstand, picked up my phone, and texted the bus to see how much longer I had to sleep in. After a minute or so, the bus texted me back and said that I had 10 minutes to get ready. I informed Jeffro, then dragged myself out of bed, putting on a jacket and some shoes (so what if I go to school in the same thing I sleep in?) and throwing my hair up into a ponytail. After brushing my teeth, I looked at the clock and saw that 4 minutes of my "get-ready time" had gone by, leaving me with 6 minutes before the bus would be at my stop.

Or so I thought.

Just as the countdown clock hit 5 minutes, we surprisingly heard what we thought were the sounds of the bus. Usually, when we hear the bus we have enough time to walk to the stop before it gets to us. So, on this day, we sauntered casually outside towards the stop, expecting to have plenty of time. Imagine our surprise when we got around the corner and saw that the bus was already waiting at the stop, loading the last of its passengers. And we still had to cross the fairly busy street!

Jeffro and I darted out into the middle of the street, forcing cars to stop. We made it across one lane, but the cars in the other lane weren't stopping for us. We could see that the bus was getting ready to pull away, so, panicking, Jeffro decided to take matters into her own hands. Holding out only her right hand as a buffer between us and the oncoming cars, we raced across the lane and towards the bus. Just as we rounded the corner of the bus and thought we were home free, the doors started to close. Fortunately, Jeffro had the sense to run forward and grab the doors with her hand, preventing them from closing. We climbed aboard the bus quickly and attempted to avoid the looks we were getting from those who had witnessed our somewhat amusing journey onto the bus.

... And then I looked at him.

Lately I've discovered that I end an awful lot of my stories with that line.

"So I was walking with so-and-so and they said such-and-such, which sounded really dumb, so I just looked at them."

"Today some dummy sitting next to me in class was chewing their gum super loudly, so I just looked at him."

I guess one might refer to me as "passive-agressive", considering that my favored way of expressing disgust in someone is to merely look at them. Consider, for a moment, just how effective this method of chastisement might be.

*Man trods on London's foot*

*London looks at him*

Or perhaps:

*Man steals all of London's money*

*London looks at him*

Maybe one of these days, when I'm feeling really risky, I might just add a "Hey!" under my breath.

Confession #3

I have a SERIOUS gum addiction.

The average American chews 300 pieces of gum a year. Over the past three years, I've chewed approximately 5,475 pieces of gum, which equates to 1,825 pieces a year. Fortunately, this addiction is less costly than smoking would be. It's only costing me around $160 instead of the $300 the average smoker spends a year on cigarettes. If I'm ever in public without a piece of gum in my mouth, I start going crazy and feel like I must cover my mouth if anyone comes within a 3-foot radius of me. If I (through a sad misfortune) am forced to go more than a day without gum I feel like I've lost my best friend--and I start going through withdrawal. While gum can be a good thing, I get the feeling that my addiction is not so great.

Cold Gravy

"Are those Ugg boots?"

"Uh... No."

"Good. Cuz Ugg boots are Ugg-ly!"

My boots:

Ugg boots:

As my co-worker said this to me, the thought that went through my head was "These look basically the same as Ugg boots. But Ugg boots are outrageously priced so I went for the knock-offs." So... My boots that look exactly like Ugg boots were cute because they were from Old Navy, while the real deal is ugly? Is anyone else seeing a flaw in my co-worker's logic?