Packing, Plotting, and a Whole Lotta Day Drinking

Today's word of the day comes from Dictionary.com:

Sundry (adj.) - various or diverse

I have sundry topics on which to report.

First, in an attempt to save mucho dinero, packing has commenced and I am moving AGAIN, this time back to the nest. For years my parents have jokingly referred to their spare room as "Mindy's Bedroom", a term at which I always scoffed. WELP. Joke's on them now, bitches, 'cause my shit's taking up residence in Meridian. Do not be too jealous of my awesome adult life, Internets.

I have *OFFICIALLY* finished all mah grad school apps. And now I wait. The waiting is maybe the hardest part. Ultimately I'm not terribly concerned with where I end up, I just know I am SOFA KING ready to go. Like yesterday ready. 

I crocheted my first baby beanie. I know, like, eleventy billion pregnant women, so I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone -- learn a new skill AND make cool hipster beanies for all the new babies. So far I have completed just the one, but I think it's stellar. Also, that beanie model is legit, don't ya think?

It's a hat! Or a Yurt! Or half a bikini!

Thanks to my favorite old lady, Erica, I have signed up for two courses through Coursera, the online education technology company. In order to keep my brain engaged (and keep myself from going crazy neurotic insane), I have enrolled in courses titled Synapses, Neurons and Brains; and Introduction to International Criminal Law. In the first course, "You will become intimately acquainted with the operational principles of neuronal “life-ware” (synapses, neurons and the networks that they form) as well as with recent ideas about how the dynamics of these networks generate the “neuronal code.” As an aperitif we will highlight present brain-excitements and for dessert we will discuss the future of brain research." I fully appreciate the use of "aperitif" and "dessert" in the context of learning. Food motivates me, what can I say?! The second course on International Law is simply a way for me to learn to circumvent anti-piracy law...

I have fully cemented my status as a second rate hipster by purchasing a pair of Tom's. They are squishy and fluffy and wonderfully slipper-like. And despite my best efforts to talk shit at every available opportunity, I am fully convinced they were worth every penny. Happy early birthday to me!

Finally, beer-drinking weather, ERRR, golfing weather is BACK! Game on!

Learning to Count

Just this. Yes. Everyday THIS.

Class is now in session

Look ma, I'm internet famous!

And why I save these conversations for a Sunday morning (with a Jack and Coke hangover, no less) is beyond me...

Lazy Love

Today is a day for love. Or the manufactured construct of love. I don't have time to write about that shit, though. I did, however, have time to repost some shit. ENJOY!

I have completely neglected this bitch. But don't feel bad, I've pretty much neglected e'erything else as well. As a matter of fact, dishes from my last home-cooked meal (read: the morning of Sunday, February 6th) are continuing to rot in the sink. Don't judge. I got food poisoning that night and puked so hard snot dripped outta my nose and tears streaked my face. Which leads me to today, Valentine's Day. A day for sappy sentiments and even sadder, sappier suckers. I have nothing against Valentine's Day. As a matter of fact, I've had a handful of awesomely successful Valentine's chock full of flowers and food and sex.

Today was not one of those days.

Today, I had to make a trip to Kooky Korean Doc's so that I could fish around in my own poop, so that in a week Kooky Korean Doc can tell me if I'm gonna die, or if I just have hemorrhoids. Or colon cancer. Or e.coli poisoning. (Yeah, pretty sure it's not that last one, but if it is, hooray for my new "I'm headed home soon and need to lose 20 pounds FAST" diet plan!)

So yeah, this Valentine's Day was THE SHIT!

*As much as I'd fucking love to end this post with that wildly successful pun, I can't. After I told Kooky Korean Doc about my probs, he asked me the routine follow-up questions: What did you eat? Are you feeling stress? How is your sleep? Do you have lelijun? WAIT. WHAT?

"Do you have lelijun?" he repeated. I ran the word through my Konglish Translator. Lesions? Do I have lesions?

"Like spots?" I asked, still baffled.

"You are American? Do you have L-E-L-I... I am Christian!" Kooky Korean Doc proudly proclaimed, as he pointed to the Bible on his desk.

Oh FUCK.

"Uh, no, I do not have RE-LI-JUN," I enunciated carefully. But back to the potentially cancerous growth in my intestines, if you will.

"You are happy?"

Exasperated sigh. "Yes, I am happy."

"Me! I am happy or not happy?"

REALLY exasperated sigh. "Uh, happy?"

And on it went until he pulled out a sheet of paper entitled "Seven Steps to Spirituality: Reasons Mindy's NOT Getting into Heaven", or some such ridiculousness.

*Parenthetically: I am all for religious freedom -- practice it, revel in it, bathe your damn kids in it -- but for fuck's sake please, please, PLEASE keep it at church. And while we're at it, keep it off the streets of Itaewon, everyone there is already going to hell. Oh, and my front doorstep too.

Anyway, seeings how I could never say any of those things to Kooky Korean Doc, I batted my eyes, smiled politely and said, "Religion is for church. Health is for hospital. Please, no religion here."

He sat back. He smiled. Then he asked if I was ready to poop.

Signs of the Apocalypse

Search keywords that may or may not have led *YOU* here:

Cooking with sperm

AND

Snowman of sperm

I just. I can't even. UGH.

*UPDATE. Please read this.

February, You Bitch

I want to go to bed so badly, but I just painted my nails. Ugh, why do I always do this?! First world probs, fo sho.

Also, soft core lady porn has been on permanent rotation at my house for the past three days. I'd like to personally thank Sarah Hamrick for loaning the entire series of The L Word to my roommate. (Insert sarcasm here.)

The inversion continues, but every morning I believe Erik Jones when he tells me it's just "FOG". I feel like believing his lies makes my morning commute somehow more bearable. Of course, by the time recess rolls around and the "FOG" has yet to lift, I'm cursing Erik and his bogus morning weather report. This is seriously jeopardizing our friendship, Jones.

Cabin fever has officially set in.

Goddamn you winter, GTFO.

A Little Dash of Gay

OMFG, that last blog post has been a huge point of contention between me and my GAY ASS roommate.

Sunday night I rushed home to tell her all about how I felt up my cousin at my sister-in-law's baby shower. I was so excited to finally touch some fake boobies. Now, it's not like it was a damn goal or anything, but when given the chance to compare my real set to her fake set, I jumped at the opportunity. WHO WOULDN'T?!

My roommate, and lifelong lesbian, sees it differently. Gay, totally gay, she claims. The fact that I touched my cousin (FAMILY) makes it even more gay, apparently. Like, Kentucky gay.

I, however, am much more enlightened that she. I prefer to view it as a clinical exploration of the body. I was simply interested in comparing the look and feel of my very real breasts to her very fake ones. I'm an inquisitive person. I'm also a tactile person. So the fact that I squeezed, bounced, and otherwise fondled my cousin's fake boobs all in the name of science is really not so gay to me. Is just good research, really.

What say you?