today was an interesting day.
at least, i think it was interesting.
it's interesting enough that i'm going to attempt to blog about it and hope that you find it was interesting. which means i'm just really going to try hard to make it interesting.
it reminds me of jenny lawson's book "let's pretend this never happened" which is a mostly true memoir. when i finished that book, i was pretty sure i had broken about six and a half ribs from laughing, and then i was left to discern what was true about her memoir.
i don't think i've ever really lied in my blog. except about cheese. like the other day when i said i had a block of cheese?
i really didn't. i had half a block. but i told facebook that i had a block of cheese and a lot of people liked it as a status, so whatever.
i also haven't pooped properly since.
so last night i watched hannibal, the new episode that i was desperately waiting for, and it was INTENSE. normally hannibal is like, extra graphic and disgusting, like the time that guy shoved a cello neck down someone's actual neck and used their vocal cords as cello strings, or that time that hannibal sliced open that doctor's face.
or that time that georgia was underneath the bed and was like, dragging people under there and i was up until three in the morning terrified. with the light on.
but last night's episode wasn't super graphic, but it was kind of like this.
jack knows about abigail! will knows about abigail! will has a hunch about stuff and he's actually right! most importantly, will knows about hannibal! jack knows about hannibal lying! bedelia knows something! and everybody asks hannibal about it and hannibal is like
whatchoo talkin' bout, willis?
and then it ended on one of the biggest cliffhangers and i was angsty. as. hell.
so i was up until two in the morning wondering how the hell will got on that airplane.
this has to do with my day because i went to bed around two, and my alarm goes off at six forty-four.
today it was labelled "GET YO ASS UP" so i could face the day.
have you ever found that if you know that you're only going to get like, four hours of sleep, when you wake up you know that you have to be alive alert awake enthusiastic, so you actually are?
today was one of those days.
my alarm went off and i was like, SUPER ENERGY SURGE and i snarfed my lucky charms with incredible and alarming speed.
but i still managed to be late to work.
tomorrow is one our biggest swim meets of the season. i'm getting up in a little less than six hours for it. so today at practise, to prepare the kiddos for the meet, we held a practise meet. a mock meet.
which means that we busted out the megaphone.
you don't know what real power is until you have a megaphone and can boss kids around with it.
in swimming, each event is numbered. so it's like, "event one, eight and under girls medley relay, heat one, step up."
the twins and i decided to use movie references.
"this is event 394."
"this is event 24601."
yes, the 394 was with a british accent. we're not that uncultured.
most of practise for me was holding eight year old girls. giving them hugs. swinging them around. being whipped by their towels. telling them that hitting me was not polite.
and then during prep team i sat on the side with an adorable four year old boy and we kicked our feet for a while. so did the rest of the kids. i wasn't wearing a swim suit. i was sitting in a puddle of pool water.
you will not believe how much wet underwear can chafe. like, seriously, that shit is dangerous.
after practise, to get out of mulching the yard, i went to work out like a responsible adult, and i rode the recumbent bike super hardcore. and i was breathing super heavily and the guy next to me kept looking at me like, why are you working hard? because he was wearing jeans, suspenders, and just kind of spinning his wheels on level one.
then after i got off the bike and i was dripping sweat everywhere and my hair was plastered to my face and my butt was wet with nasty butt sweat, this lady comes up to me and she's like, OMG YOU COACH MY KID AND SHE LOVES YOU AND THE TEAM YEAH YEAH YEAH
and i'm like, why am i always covered in sweat and wearing awkward college shirts when this happens?
when i returned from my valiant workout, the mulching was still happening. my brother was hauling buckets of mulch shirtless and i could see his tattoo, and while i was figuring out how to park my car with all the mulch everywhere, i had this really weird thought.
my parents hate tattoos. so do my grandparents.
they all know that aaron has this tattoo.
BUT NO ONE HAS SAID ANYTHING.
what's more curious is that i get shit for my nose ring about once a week.
one of life's great mysteries.
after i snarfed and savoured a glorious cheese bagel, i took a shower and danced to imagine dragons, and then i headed to the twins house, because i obviously don't see them enough.
when i go to the twins' house, we have to bake. it's a law. so we lounged around on pinterest figuring out what kinds of truffles that we wanted to make, and we eventually settled on sugar cookie white chocolate, and we had to go to the store to get some stuff.
chocolate and tampons, to be precise. can you get more stereotypically womanish.
whenever the twins and i go shopping, emma and i pretend to be a couple. we hold hands. we nuzzle each other. i give emma kisses on the forehead, we push the cart together, and she leans into me in the checkout line.
basic PDA. ya know.
today i happened to be wearing my got vag? shirt, and walking through kroger holding hands and giggling with emma was like, twice as awesome.
we had planned to find a teenage boy summer worker to freak out. we were going to waltz up to him, bang the tampons and the chocolate on the counter, and then emma and i were totally going to overdo the PDA while i wore a shirt that blatantly has the word vagina on it.
unfortunately for us, there wasn't an angsty teenage boy we could prey upon.
if you're a teenage boy and you work at a grocery store in fort wayne, look out for us. we're coming for you.
we spent the rest of the afternoon making truffles. hannah and emma are pro bakers and i just pretend, so i spent most of the time watching.
i then found out that i have a relatively intense fear of food processors.
we were grinding our sugar cookies up into crumbs and we were sticking pieces of the cookies into the processor. and then suddenly emma gets out this wicked blade, shoves it down, puts the top on, and VRRRRRRRRRROOOOM
and i was like, LOL NOPE
and it reminded me of the time that they used their hand mixer and i got so anxious that i had to stand in a corner for a while.
(i'm also afraid of ovens and toasters. and sometimes microwaves.)
the twins' food processor was not my friend.
we stuck the truffles in the freezer to make them firm. to which i shouted, "FIRM LIKE BOOBS."
we then stood in the kitchen for a good twenty minutes feeling up our own boobs and talking about how much we loved them.
BOOBS, KIDS. BOOBS.
at five o'clock my family and i picked up really cheap pizzas at pizza hut because they were having some strange anniversary deal that i didn't care about because i consider pizza hut to be the walmart of pizza places, and about halfway there my mom was like, "are you wearing your vagina shirt to your grandparents' house?"
and i was like, "YEPPPPP" because i had totally planned to see how long it would take my grandmother to point it out and say, "what does that mean?"
to which i was planning to respond, "it says got vag, like got vagina."
then my grandmother would be all affronted and i'd be like, "i got it at the vagina monologues and i was in the vagina monologues" and then i'd drop the subject before someone exploded.
that didn't happen. i wasn't sure whether i was relieved or mildly disappointed. probably both.
we spent a really long time talking about my grandpa's eye, because on wednesday he did this cool thing where he passed out and cracked open his head.
i wasn't there, but my mom said it was pretty much like an episode of hannibal, which means that there was blood everywhere, so it was probably a good thing that i wasn't there, because i probably would've cried a whole bunch and then probably thrown up. (how many times can emily use the word "probably in a paragraph? probably a lot.)
but my grandpa's stitches and his black eye are seriously badass. what's even more badass is his absolute sass.
i feel so bad for his doctor.
"when you say i can take walks... i'm assuming you mean i can take intense power walks with my daughter."
this man is almost seventy-eight and he rides his age every birthday on his bike. like, lance armstrong bike.
my grandma is really into flowers. incidentally, my mom is too. my mom took this weird class at alma where she learned the names of all of these plants, so all my life my mom has had this magic plant power where she can look at a plant and know exactly what it's called.
my grandma also this power but without the botany class.
so my mom and my grandma were deep in flower talk. kind of like, "amy, do you see the blah blah flower" "ah yes next to the blah blah flower i planted for you last year" "well it's not thriving with the blah blah flower behind it" and we're all just kind of like, "look, that blah blah flower is purple."
so then my grandma is like, "well we have a bunny that's been getting in my flowers. it's so cute. but it's eating my plants."
and my grandpa is like, "she won't let me shoot it."
so then my uncle totally pounces on the conversation about killing bunnies and then my brother and my dad join in and i'm all uncomfortable and then i remembered that i almost killed a bunny this morning.
driving home from work, there was a bunny that darted in front of my car. instead of being a responsible bunny when faced with a giant hulk of steel heading toward it and bolting to the right or the left, the poor thing couldn't make up its mind, and went left and right and left and right and i was like, BUNNY GET OUT THE WAY I CAN'T STOP THIS CAR FOR YOUR IDENTITY CRISIS and i seriously almost hit it.
it was relatively traumatic.
i then remembered the time that i exploded a bunny.
so my freshman year at alma i was night driving and i was following a guy to someone's house for a party, and it was all night and dark and i had no idea where i was going, and the guy in front of me hit a bunny.
it was sad. i saw him it. and i said, awww.
THEN THE BUNNY FLEW UNDER HIS CAR AND INTO MY CAR AND IT FUGGIN' EXPLODED.
like, i don't know if you've ever had a seriously injured bunny fly at your car and then explode. but it's really freakin' scary. and i don't recommend the experience.
so now i'm back to sitting on my grandparents' porch and i'm thinking about how one time i had a bunny explode on my car, and that's when i decided that blogging about today would be a good thing to do.
because i just blogged about how i made a bunny explode at like, two in the morning.
this has been a lame post. i'll admit that. i've had a decently mundane day, and i did a really terrible job of making it sound so much more awesome than it was, because i'm really tired from staying up late wondering how will got on that fuggin' airplane.
HERE'S AN UNRELATED PICTURE TO MAKE THE END OF THE POST SEEM AWESOME.