Three Banquets a Day - Our Favorite Diet

I've noticed that broccoli comes up fairly often in my blog. That's probably because I love it. Unfortunately it makes quite a mess of my mouth, leaving me with a speckled green smile that I never notice until my next trip to the bathroom (which actually happens sooner than later at the rate I pee).

It's so unfair that so many of the best foods leave visible residue of their deliciousness. Fearing black spotty gums, I unsuccessfully tried to resist a poppy seed bagel this morning and succumbed to the lure of an oreo with its trail of crumbs left to line my lips. Spinach and powdered donuts are also particularly horrid offenders, though they're not as frequently present in my daily routine. And corn is also pretty bad. Not only does it require treatment with an immediate round of flossing, but kernels somehow end up on the far reaches of my face. Maybe I should take that tissue out of my nose and clean myself up a bit. (Ew. I'm disgusted that I even had that thought).

Raindrops on Roses

I have a cold. My nose is winning all sorts of championships for its long distance endurance running(And persistence? And annoyance?). So I sit with a pretty pink tissue jammed up my nostrils (medically called nares, I recently learned).

No one is home right now, so who cares whether I've got a Kleenex stuck to my face. But I worry about my return to work tomorrow. Obstructing the leak from my nostrils (kind of like a tampon, but for my nose...keep your eyes open for my new patented "Snot Stopper 2.0") frees up my hands for typing and prevents puddles from forming on my workspace. But oftentimes upon falling sick, I find myself hastily dislodging a tissue from my nose as my boss or coworker walks by. I hope I make it through tomorrow without being scolded for my unfortunate health and hygiene.

On top of spaghetti

I have a friend. He asked me a question (of the random variety). I answered, and he admitted that he didn't know why he asked the question, but that it had just pooped into his head.

Um. That's disgusting. Fecal matter inside the cranial cavity should not cause one to ask random questions such as "where were you when they found water on the moon?" Fecal matter should not enter the cranial cavity in the first place. It will give new meaning to CSF (cerebro spinal feces).

And then my friend left, asserting that he had to "go eat and shit." Yea...I know what you meant...

Shining, Gleaming, Streaming Flaxen Waxen

On Friday, I spent about half an hour pulling coiled up hair out of my vacuum cleaner. I even used scissors to cut it out because it was so entangled. And when I was finished, I was left with a mass of jumbled blond and brown hairs that resembled a small Pomeranian puppy lying on the floor of the living room.

Just the average size of the hairballs I cough up.

Oy vey

267 Days. Countdown over.

~*~*Happy Dance*~*~

Heave Ho

Last night, I threw up on the subway.

I had been in Riverdale visiting my grandmother when I began to develop a slight headache. Many people know that my slight headaches frequently build into migraines which threaten nausea and upheaval of gastrointestinal fluids. For this reason, a slight headache is usually cause enough for me to request Tylenol (passive aggressive side note: I often do this without verbalizing my reason). Unfortunately on this night I had not the foresight to ask for a painkiller before I set off on my hour-and-forty-five-minute journey home.

As the headache intensified, I did manage to buy a pack of Advil at the Duane Reade when I transferred from the bus to the subway (ADVIL! I even risked its blood thinning effects for my pain relief)but it was no use. As I sat one the 1 train approaching Manhattan, I knew I was in trouble. I managed to get all of the upchuck into the plastic bag I'd received with my purchase from Duane Reade, and I washed it down with the water I'd bought to accompany my Advil, but no one offered me a tissue or a napkin so...um...my scarf needs a run through the laundry.

Wow. I threw up on the subway.