3/23/2013 – Random Story of the Day and Day #5 of being
Smoke-Free... As part of my plan to replace smoking with exercise I'm going
down to the fitness center at my complex for maybe the 3rd time ever. It is
entirely possible I've just spent more time preparing to go to the fitness
center than I actually intend to spend in the fitness center. I don't know what
to wear to look like I fit in because last time some super skinny girl in spandex
made me feel frumpy. I wish I had a leotard and leggings like Olivia Newton
John or maybe a black leotard and some leg warmers like whatsherface in
Flashdance... but unfortunately, I do not so I opted for a tank top and some
clamdigger sweat pants. At least I do have a nice sweatband though. Either way,
I have some mad cheesy 80's songs on my workout playlist and this is happening.
3/15/2013 – Random
Story of the Day: This shot allergy situation has really screwed me up. I was
out of stuff and had intended to go grocery shopping after I got off work
Tuesday night... which didn't end up happening because I started feeling crappy
that evening after I got the pneumonia vaccine. So I went after work today with
the intention of only getting a few things I needed before going home to OD on
Benadryl. A few things turned into a full cart..
which then turned into a full trunk... I thought as I walked out of Walmart to
my car that, while I made necessary purchases and had only deviated slightly
from my list I made Tuesday, I was perhaps a bit short sighted and this plan
had not been thought out well enough. So I stood outside Walmart for awhile
staring at my trunk and scratching my head wondering how the hell I was going
to get all the groceries I bought out of it and carry it from the parking lot,
to the courtyard, and up 3 flights of stairs to my apartment with only one good
arm and my strong hand... I also had to factor in my suitcase I call a purse,
my laptop, and of course, my extra large Slurpee. It took me 3 trips carrying
heavy bags with my good left arm and light bags in my right hand with a brief
pause for an asthma attack after the second trip.. But I did it. That ladies
and gentlemen is a tribute to just how much will power and sheer determination
I'm filled with.. and also how my ass stays a size 4. The moral of the story
is: Don't ever get a pneumonia vaccine... and if you do, don't go balls out at
Walmart while you still have a gimpy arm. No good can come of it.
3/8/2013 – Random Story of the Day: Watching this Bible miniseries on the History Channel, it occurs to me, wtf happened since Biblical times? We don't do all the same things in the name of God anymore so I guess that's why we don't get the same level of miracles. I don't know where to get my hands on an actual live lamb or a goat. Just wondering though if I sacrifice like a rack of lamb from Safeway would that be enough for God to let me turn water into wine or maybe part like a pond or a large puddle or something? I mean, racks of lamb aren't cheap but that wine trick could be pretty useful and I just paid my water bill.
2/19/2013 – Random Story of the Day: Remember how when you were a kid every time Mother's Day or Father's Day rolled around you asked your parents "When is Kid's Day?" They would laugh and say something like "Every day is Kid's Day." At least that's the answer I always got. The whole reason these holidays for parents exist is to show them appreciation for all they do for us. But when we were kids our parents planted seeds in our heads that one day it would be our turn and we'd be taking care of them. If I knew the full extent of what I was agreeing to as a child I'd have advocated for that Kid's Day way harder or said "Well, when you're old then every day will be Parents' Day so it all evens out." Now it seems those tables have turned and I'm having to bug my parents about going to doctors, help them with things around the house, drive them places, run errands for them, get them to eat healthier, take vitamins, etc... basically all the things to help take care of them because they aren't as able to do it themselves either physically or have become laxed with regard to these things. The only difference is when we were kids if we didn't do the things our parents wanted us to do for our health and well-being then they could make us do it. We don't have the same ability to punish our parents for not listening to us and doing as we say even though it's for their own good. I spent months convincing my mom to go to the doctor for a checkup and when she finally went they found things that if she'd let go any longer could and would have been much more serious. Today I spent all afternoon and evening of my holiday off work straightening my parents' house, helping my dad organize and make dinner, taking down a Christmas tree, explaining to my dad why it isn't normal to keep a giant bag filled with empty coffee canisters, meanwhile convincing him to get to the doctor because I'm concerned he's been showing early signs of dementia as well as other physical issues, subjecting myself to his stubbornness and mood swings all while being mauled by a small, extremely hyper cocker spaniel. Why would I do this? Because I love my parents and it seems I have now entered the phase of life where it's my turn to begin to take care of them. As I drove home it occurred to me that there really should be a Kid's Day or some kind of Parental Caregiver's Day to celebrate everyone out there who looks out for their parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, former guardians, adopted older parental figures, etc. The reward of parenting is watching your child grow up and blossom.. Parental Caregivers don't get that. The rewards for them are very different. They come in small victories of getting your parent to a doctor and sighs of relief that they caught something early enough to be treated... and also from helping your dad to calm down long enough from being frazzled to make the best green bean bake EVER. The moral of the story is: I'm starting a letter writing campaign to Hallmark to get Kid's Day declared an official holiday because I think everyone who does this deserves an annual day of appreciation and celebration. It is a potential gold mine for all companies who perpetuate holidays of this nature and I for one would like a card and maybe some flowers and also a coffee mug that says World's Best Daughter because that would be awesome.
2/18/2013 - Random
Story of the Day: So yesterday was like Baby's 1st Anti-Aging Cream Buying
experience. It annoys me when older ladies tell me I'm too young for all that.
Damn right I look young for my age. It's good genes and I get it from my mama.
But tell that to the deep-set worry line in my forehead I've had for the past 4
years and the little smile lines I'm starting to get around my eyes and mouth.
I'm trying to stay looking good for the rest of my
life. It's all about maintenance, preventative measures, and preservation. I'm almost
30 which means it's time for a night cream. Night creams are different from day
moisturizers because they are thicker and more intensive. So I did some
research and found out that I don't need to go balls out on some expensive
cream I can't really afford. L'Oréal Paris, Garnier, Olay, and Neutrogena have
really stepped up their anti-aging game and have excellent products ranging
from $11-$25. The Walmart in Fair Lakes has an entire anti-aging aisle in which
I stood for about an hour yesterday googling and reading boxes trying to figure
out which cream I wanted to try out. I ended up going with L'Oréal Paris
Revitalift Anti-Wrinkle + Firming Night Cream for $12 to help my little lines
and prevent new ones and Garnier Skin Renew Dark Spot Corrector for $15 because
I have some red spots on my cheeks from acne scarring. Well it's too soon to
tell on the night cream... But, I'll be damned if in just one use my acne spots
are not lighter today thanks to the Garnier Spot Corrector. This stuff just
might be a miracle in a tube. I LOVE products that do exactly what they're
supposed to do faster and better than I anticipate them to work. If you have
acne marks on your face then I'm highly recommending that you pick some of this
corrector and try it for yourself. This post may seem kind of ridiculous but
anti-aging is like a brand new world and unfamiliar territory filled with magic
miracle tonics being pedalled by sheisty individuals claiming to have the
fountain of youth in a jar. I'm not trying to get robbed for my vanity while
attempting to keep my face in good shape since I'm stuck with it for another
50-70 years. Immediately finding something that works on my first attempt is
like a massive victory. The moral of the story is, like it or not, anybody
who's in their late 20's and older then you're in the same 'grown and sexy and
intent on staying that way' boat that I'm in. Grab an oar and start paddling
and welcome to that aisle of Walmart because that is where you live now.
12/29/2012 – Random
Story of the Day: My plan for this week was to de-clutter my apartment and get
organized. I'm working on cleaning out the loft today and just found a bunch of
what can only be termed as memorabilia. It would seem my packrat behavior has
finally paid off in some regard because I guess part of me anticipated my
memory eventually going to shit. In one of the boxes Andie packed up like 4 years
ago when I moved out of my old apartment I found proof that I've actually met
at least half the people I'm friends with on Facebook. I found all kinds of
business cards, old demo CD's, stickers, flyers, etc. from the past 10+ years.
It's like my own personal archive of how your lives intertwined with mine. The
fact that I never threw it out in some way shows just how much I inadvertently
care... or that maybe I even believed some day you would be famous and I could
say I knew you when you first got your start. So I guess the moral of the story
is: Y'all need to get famous so I can sell this shit on eBay.
12/8/2012 – Random
Story of the Day: So I was watching King Ralph and felt the need to google
something the movie brought up that I didn't know. I got into reading stuff
about the War of the Roses and learned about heraldry badges. That prompted me
to look up my own family's heraldry. Little known fact you wouldn't know unless
you're related to me or I've told you, our last name shouldn't have an E on the
end. When my great grandfather was in the Army he
signed his name with a flourish on the end which the Army mistook as an E and
at the time that equated to a legal name change. All family genealogy stuff
would have to be searched as Milbourn prior to the early 1900's unless you're
looking up lines perpetuated by my great grandfather's siblings. Anyway, I've
always known that Milbourn means the stones in the brook by the mill and refers
to Scottish land divides. Well, my family comes from Northumberland which is
apparently somewhere along the actual border of England and Scotland. They also
held a seat in the Scottish House of Lords back around when they came out with
the Doomsday Book... that's the nice part of the story. Guess somebody pissed
them off a couple centuries later when they put up some wall (like Game of
Thrones but this really happened) because they stopped having any allegiance
and went wild. From what I read tonight, I guess that border was the land
divide... and on this border lived a rack of noble clans called "border
reivers". "Reivers" means to rob or plunder. The Milbourns were
among these clans. They lived in a place ravaged by war where they couldn't
farm because the land sucked for growing things but was excellent for grazing
so they came down from their castles and robbed people of their livestock,
kidnapped people for ransom, and were ruthless mercenaries. They killed anyone
who trespassed regardless of nationality, so Scottish passing through trying to
invade England and English invading Scotland. The monarchies on both sides
encouraged them. The Milbourn clan was part of East March more to the English
side which I guess explains why we have an English family crest. During the
time of the War of Roses the border reivers had their heyday. They were
constantly recruited to fight for either side if paid but were uncontrollable.
They would kill anyone except their kin. The problem is only they knew who they
were related to so the people hiring them stood a good chance of getting
screwed out of their money.. and here's my favorite part.. They could claim
either nationality and described themselves as "Scottish if forced,
English at will, and Reivers by the grace of blood." The modern English
word for reiver is ruffian. So basically, the moral of the story is I descended
from merciless killers and ruffians... But not just any merciless killers and
ruffians... NOBLE merciless killers and ruffians. Now there is a paradox. And I
wouldn't have learned any of this had it not been for watching King Ralph for
the millionth time.
11/9/2012 – Random
Story of the Day: Since I'm the real life Leslie Knope I got inspired today and
actually looked into running for public office. Unfortunately, it appears I may
be ineligible to run for Mayor of Fairfax because I reside just outside of the
technical city limits... which sucks because I'd make an excellent Mayor. We
need more parades and advertising for our museums and historical sites to draw tourists from DC and I could totally make that happen.
Not only would it be fun, it would generate an increase in revenue for the
museums and local business owners. Seriously, who the F doesn't like parades?!?
Anyway, if I can't be Mayor, I can run for the Virginia House of Delegates. I'm
tired of little rocks from construction cracking my windshield of my car and
personal property taxes are ridiculously high. Not everyone in Fairfax makes a
million dollars a year and can afford to pay to replace their windshield
annually and then pay these skyrocketing taxes on their cars after having to
constantly pay to repair said windshield. Something needs to be done about
this. So, to become a candidate all I have to do is collect 100 signatures and
pay a filing fee. This is actually my best road to the U.S. House of
Representatives and achieving my dream of having the floor yielded to the
Distinguished Lady from the Commonwealth of Virginia so I can filibuster the
hell out of those people.. and I will.. for days... and you know this... Then
maybe they'll get so frustrated they might actually accomplish something for
once just to shut me up... So, I guess my first question is are you a
registered voter currently residing in the 35th House District? My second
question is will you sign my petition? My third question is would you like to
contribute to my campaign (seriously, t-shirts, buttons, stickers, yard signs,
and those flyers in your junk mail cost money)? And my fourth and most
important question is will you Vote For Niki?
11/2/2012 – Random
Story of the Day: As you know, I went to the doctor for an ear infection a few
weeks ago. While the nurse was taking my blood pressure she asked me if I'd put
anything in my ears. I said I only used Q-tips... Well, apparently cleaning
your ears with cotton swabs is bad and you should never use them for that...
Let me say this again... You should never use something specifically invented
to use
to clean the wax out of your ears for cleaning the wax out of your ears. They
push the wax back and you can end up with wax build up. You're supposed to use
hydrogen peroxide. I didn't have any hydrogen peroxide... until today. You can
pick up a gigantic bottle of it at Target for $0.87, which is significantly
less than a box of cotton swabs. I didn't know anything that big was that
cheap. Well, I just cleaned my ears and dumped a cap full in each ear.. only
maybe 1/3 of that actually got into each ear. The rest got on my shirt. It's
weird and just doesn't feel right. This stuff bubbles in your ears the same way
it bubbles on cuts, but when it's in your ears you can hear it. It sounds like
a bowl of rice crispies once you add the milk. So now I'm covered in hydrogen
peroxide and my ears are snap, crackle, popping like nobody's business.
Hopefully they're at least clean now... Try it the next time you're bored.
10/17/2012 – Random
Story of the Day: I used to have a dog named Lily. She was a German
Shepherd/Pit Bull mix with batfox ears that pointed up so she always had ear
problems. She got some bad ear infections and I would constantly have to put
drops in her ears, which she hated, and put a cone around her head so she
wouldn't mess with her ears, which she hated even more. She used to ram her
cone covered head into things and I thought it was
funny even though I was her mommy and I felt bad for laughing because I knew
she was miserable. But, now I have to put drops in my ear because the doctor
prescribed them for my ear infection. While these drops are freaking magical
because people no longer sound like robots, they are making my ear itch inside
like crazy and all I want to do is stick a giant Q-tip down in there so far it
touches my brain and just wiggle it to get out the crap that is blocking it up.
Since I can't do that and I keep touching my ear which I know is bad because
it's not helping it, I'm thinking that I need one of those cones to put around
my head so I'll leave my ear alone. Then I can ram my cone covered head into
things in an attempt to both dislodge this blockage and/or also to amuse myself
because this ear infection sucks ass. The moral of the story is, karma is a
bitch, I miss my dog, and don't be surprised if I end up on You Tube with a
cone around my head ramming into things.
10/13/2012 – Random
Story of the Day: I was about to go to bed and realized I forgot to take the
trash bag I set outside my door earlier down to the dumpster. I didn't want to
get fined by my leasing office if they found it tomorrow morning so I put on my
coat and furry boots and grabbed my flashlight. I started down the first flight
of stairs, got to the landing, and heard a noise above me... I looked up and all I saw
was little claws and I just froze. I stood there having a panic attack shining
my flashlight at the stairs to see where this thing was hiding, which was maybe
5-6 feet from my front door. It moved and poked its bushy tail out between the
stairs. I started having flashbacks to the raccoon attack and seeing black
spots and hyperventilating. Well, obviously I wasn't about to walk underneath
this thing... So what do I do? Ok... I took off running as fast as I could down
the other side of the stairs, around the pool, up the stairs to the dumpster,
shining my flashlight frantically in every direction the whole way...
stopped... had an asthma attack, put my trash in the dumpster, took my phone
out of pocket in case I needed to call 9-1-1, braced myself and realized I was
still outside and right in the middle of raccoon central and I needed to get
the fuck out of there... then took off running back down the stairs, around the
pool, back up the other side of the stairs.. then I stopped.. Would you believe
that fucker's stupid tail was still poking out through the steps? I started
running up the rest of the stairs praying.... "Dear God, please don't let
this thing attack me or follow me in when I get to my front door. I don't want
to have to get another rabies series." God was on my side tonight for a
change. I made it safely back inside. But the moral of the story is, I am being
held captive in my apartment by an unidentified woodland creature. Can someone
please check outside my front door and make sure it is gone? If not, I may get
my gun and shoot it and make a fascinator out of it.... which might be
considered slightly "illegal".
10/10/2012 – Random
Story of the Day: I haven't had Chick-fil-a in months because I've been
supporting the boycott and I've been FIENDING for some good chicken. But I'm
staying strong. So, I decided to make my own and did a combo of the Chick-fil-a
recipe and a simple recipe from my Better Homes & Gardens cookbook. While I
was at it, I figured I'd get fancy with it and took the drippings and made
country gravy. Then I threw it all on some
biscuits... kind of like Chick-fil-a meets Cracker Barrel... and
lemmetellyasomething... I shit you not, it was the best thing I've ever eaten.
Now on the one hand, I'm sitting here wondering why I'm still single because
seriously, if a chick made me this taste-gasmic mouth orgy of awesomeness I'd
put a ring on it. On the other hand, I'm glad I'm by myself because that means
I don't have to share or worry about getting fat from the bazillion calorie meal
I just went straight buck on. So yay for me
9/30/2012 – Random
Story of the Day #2: Google is the jam. In my 29 years of life, I've never once
hard boiled an egg. I've eaten a ton of them, especially around Easter. I ♥ deviled eggs like no other (you're
weird if you don't). I've cooked hundreds of dozens, maybe even thousands of
dozens, of eggs in several other ways: scrambled, over easy, sunny side up,
poached.. my omelettes are AMAZING... but never hard
boiled.. until today. I found the most epic directions on WikiHow and it
included pictures. This is a very involved, way more complicated process than I
had ever imagined. But I'll be damned.. My eggs turned out AWESOME... not one
hint of green, yolks perfectly yellow and centered, perfect texture, not even
slightly rubbery. I'm super proud and feelin myself right now. I feel like I've
just acquired a new skill and stepped my kitchen game up in a massive way. Move
over MasterChef. It is so on.
9/30/2012 – Random
Story of the Day #1: I met Bizmarkie once YEARS ago at a nightclub called
Mirrors in DC. I was walking across the floor, when suddenly some dude bumped
into me and almost spilled my drink. I turned around to give him a dirty look..
I looked up.. and it's MuthaF-ing BIZMARKIE. He said to me "Excuse me
darlin. Sorry." I stood there paralyzed in absolute shock as he looked at
me while my jaw was on the floor and all I could say back, very quietly, as he
started to walk away was "Nobody beats The Biz. NOBODY beats The
Biz." True story.
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