Yum

I declare Hershey's Snacksters the best ever. THE BEST EVER.

(I have nothing else to say)

Jessie: 2; Opponent: 0

Life is punctuated by many challenges which we must overcome in order to successfully achieve happiness, self sufficiency and self satisfaction.

Tonight, my friends, I met one of those challenges. It was the second event in an epic battle I wage against an entire species (or bunch of species): the roach. I consider myself an appreciator of animals, but bugs are the exception and roaches I cannot bear. It is for this reason that when I found myself face to face with an enormous antennaed fuggernaut sitting at the foot of my bed I knew I had to fight. (Ok, maybe I hyperventilated and squealed to my roommate for 20 minutes first, but THEN I knew I had to fight).

My previous assault on a cockroach was a strenuous attempt to drown it in the bathtub at 4am, all the while suppressing my gurgles and screams so as not to wake the guests sleeping on the couch. After 45 minutes of chasing the creature with the shower head, the roach was effectively suffocated, damp and lifeless on the ceramic floor of the shower.

This time I had to be swift. I did not have 45 minutes of effort to spare. After deciding not to try to paralyze it with shaving cream, I put on my battle boots (one salmon colored cowboy boot and one shiny black galosh -- no time for matching!) and retrieved the bug spray from the kitchen. The roach only flailed its many legs for about three seconds before it was dead. Another victory for me.

So this kind of makes me feel happy, self sufficient, and satisfied. But I also feel a little guilty. At least now I have to wash all my sheets. And the mattress pad. And the comforter(s). Still, perhaps that's not a fair punishment for taking a life, even if it's the life of a roach.

NOM NOM NOM

You know you've eaten one too many cupcakes (and cake cakes and ice creams)when wearing your underwear begins to hurt. You know, because the elastic is digging into your burgeoning belly? But chocolate frosting covered in funfetti is totally worth it (Thanks Emma!). And it's an excuse to buy new underwear. I love nothing better than buying new underwear. Except chocolate frosting covered in funfetti.

Farewell, My Former Age Bracket

Good-Bye 24. You were probably one of the most significant years of my life to date. I think I might be kind of glad you're over though.

Here's to ending the canned pumpkin shortage as quickly as possible.

Thoughts thunk when I should have been thinking about work.

1) If popcorn were called poopcorn, would you still eat it?

2) When you floss your teeth, do you eat the stuff that comes out of the cracks? (That thought really turns my stomach. Which doesn't mean I've never done it).

3) I have lots of countdowns to and from silly things. How did I manage to find a silly thing to count down from (stop counting!) that occurred right on a certain hallmark holiday with its six-month mark landing right around my birthday? (no, seriously, I would have lost track if not for that!)

4) If I were a burger, I would be served with extra tomatoes.

5) Raw onion breath is significantly worse than sauteed onion breath, at least from the breather's perspective.