It's a Recessive Trait

"Hey Meg, you know how you feel about velvet?"
"Yes."
"That's how I feel about polar fleece."
"Ew."
"Yeah. It's crawly-creepy."

Then Angelina and Brad Made Me Feel a Little Worse About Myself. Again.

Occasionally, between pieces of generally solid, reputable literature, I indulge myself in an issue of People. Usually they come in the form of a random gift. Get well, Happy Hump Day, Easter Basket, or Stocking Stuffer. The Best/Worst of 2006 issue came in the hat that doubled as a stocking this year as we didn't have time to frost the house with the usual tacky decorations. Or, you know, get a tree. People is the only magazine that I really, well, appreciate isn't the right word. I like the crossword puzzle, and plan on eventually moving up to the NY Times puzzle in my future, more intellectual days.
My question is how Pluto made the list of "Fired in '06" and Spinach made the "2006 Hall of Shame". The Hall of Shame had six things on it. People isn't so classy. You'd think they'd have more people and less vegetables.

Pseudo Sleep, Pseudo Trip, Pseudo Cure.

I'd like to thank the sponsor of last night's 11 most solid hours of sleep in my recent memory: Nyquil. And also the sponsor of the reason Nyquil neglected to actually cure the cold symptoms, and just flush me into a hallucinogenic sleep: Oregon. Pseudoephedrine is the working ingredient in Nyquil and other cold/flu remedy medicines, and as all you meth-addicts know, can be turned into methamphetamine and be smoked uuup. Because 85% of property crime in Oregon is commited by meth addicts, and the state alone represents not only the founding fathers of meth in the US, but remains the sole highest leader in users, pseudoephedrine is now banned in the majority of these products.

I prefer to not be carded when I buy Sudafed, because making sure I am a licenced 18 year old with itchy eyes, scratchy throat, runny nose, and a number of other symptoms seem to drastically change my attitude and therefore appearance. But hey.
My message to the, I'm sure huge, population of meth-user-blog-readers? Don't do meth, because when you wake up from a Nyquil sleep, you will feel just like you've awaken from a long, hard night.
And your nose will still run like Kenyans in the Olympics.

And She Rocked the Rental Shoes and 8 lb Ball

Bowling Champ
Originally uploaded by BananaLoaf.

Christmas was filled with family, singing, filler conversation, chocolate oranges and excitement followed by exhaustion. All of that sentimental crap*. Let's get down to the real stuff. The cousins that we bowl with every year on Christmas day found out about the blog in a lapse of judgement caused by exhaustion and tending to Father for 4 days in the hospital a few weeks back. Tired people do stupid things. Bill, if you're reading this, you're still King Pin in my book. Red team forever. Pound it.
Anyways, they had us for Christmas this year and got each family member a personalized bowling shirt, complete with nicknames like Twisted Sister (The bowler, not the 80s rock group. Disappointment, I know.) and Striker embroidered like real professionals.
Mine? Mine?
Banana Loaf.
I intended on a photo montage, but the digital cam went AWOL and so I spent a solid 1/2 an hour on this .bmp art. Beauty.
And yes, it does look as boxy on me as this paint masterpiece displays it.


*Filler conversation is absolutely sentimental crap.

Take THAT Rig Veda

I am not a competitive person.
I do not mind losing.
Somebody has to be the worst at everything, and I am the best worst at sports. This is okay. I played Thunder* the other day, and did not score a single basket. Not even one. I got out every time, and people simply shrugged, wondering why I was playing in the first place, and why I'm not morbidly obese due to such minimal physical activity. I enjoy a good walk, and now, yoga. I went to a "primary" course last night. Wouldn't you guess that primary would be the easiest? Oops. It's not. But hey. I'll learn the chants, find my Ujjayi breath, and maybe some day I'll be able to do a perpendicular headstand for 2 minutes like that one lady.
Point. Point. Searching for the poooinntt.
Oh, yes. My point is that usually, it's most natural for me to go back to the basics if I've over stepped my skill. Or better yet, pre-basics. But I plan on staying in this primary class. I will not reverse this. I made it through one class minimally returning to child's pose while those around me bent in ways I didn't think possible, and only sometimes mixed up my right and left appendages.
I will do physical activity.
And I will like it.

*Like Lightening in basketball, but you get back in.

I'm Dreaming of Diminishing Non-Renewable Resources...

Christmas is in X minus 7 days. 1 week away, people. And we have yet to see a 1/2 inch of white. I'd like to take this 45 degree Advent as an opportunity to address a very important issue. Why do I live in this freaking state? Oh yes, because when you exit the womb, they stamp your birth certificate, and hand you a less-known document stating that if you stay in Minnesota, you're guaranteed reduced reciprocity rates for going to Eau Claire for a post-secondary education, and you will experience four seasons every year. Travel Minnesota, folks.
Nobody should have to walk this limbo. Unless you are at a Hawaiian-themed party. Which might double as a Baby Jesus birthing party also. Is Al Gore a Christian? Or does he practice self-worship? Either way, he and his high-upper friends should write a sequel to An Inconvenient Truth detailing their plans to re-create the atmosphere of planet Earth. That would be a hit for everybody. Then they could tax us all, and print more money when they run out.
Debt!
Fun!

Gary Likes: The Zoo

Gary Likes: The Zoo
Originally uploaded by BananaLoaf.

Would you believe me if I told you that one of the 1st graders I work with drew this?

The first* documented episode of The Adventures of Gary the Gummy Bear uploaded here.

*See: Rough, Crappy, Blurry.

The Wiggles' Version of Octopus's Garden: Equally Disturbing

Mark (age 8): Who's Dave Matthew's Band?
Me: It's a band that I like a lot, I went to the concert a few months ago.
Mark: Oh. Like The Beatles?
Me: Um, well, sort of, but The Beatles are not The Beatles anymore...they're 50% dead.
Mark: Oh.
Amara (age 7): Ears perk the way a dog's do when you say the w-word. Did you say The Wiggles?!
Me: Oh, no The Beatles.
Amara: Disappointment, like when you were talking about w-o-k, not w-a-l-k. Oh. Well you know, the yellow Wiggle had to stop being a Wiggle.
Me: Oh, really?
Amara: Yep. He wasn't feeling good. He got sick.
Me: Huh. Interesting.
Amara: Satisfaction, pure satisfaction.

Hit or Miss

That Girl and I live by the same principal that you take in with you to TJ Maxx or Marshall's. Sometimes you find amazing shoes, sometimes you don't. Sometimes a creepy foreigner takes a picture up your skirt, sometimes you find great shoes. And sometimes you're funny, sometimes you collect awkward social situations like an elderly woman does cats.

TG: Oh Tim says that all the time.
Innocent Bystander: Who's Tim?
M: That's her pet name for me.
TG: Yep. And She calls me Richard Parker.

Insecure with a Swimming Unit in Gym Class

"In the eighth grade I was the only kid who wore her Halloween costume to the Halloween dance. "
"What'd you go as?"
"A spy."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, middle school is rough on everybody."

Hey, You!

People of the Interweb.
You seem to know things.
Why does brie have that totally nasty skin?

If you don't have the real answer, made up responses are welcome.
A prize to the one I like best.