Pro-Birth

True, Treza doesn't like birthdays. But when you tell people you don't like birthdays, the appropriate response is to do something that acknowledges the day of birth in a ridiculous fashion.
Like with profane personalized cupcakes. And the new Stephen Colbert book. Oh wait. I kept that for me. Shoot. Well it's finger-biting, gut-wrenching humor, so you should buy it too. Because he will know if you just borrow it. And because it has stickers.
Yes, you see, I got you this book. But it had the funny. So now I have nothing for you. You hate birthdays more now? Here have a cupcake with Stephen's face on it.

Grown up like only checking one bag and not crying at take off.

Surprise, I spent the weekend in Chicago! Sri and I went to visit Sandwich Lady and That Girl to check out their new stomping grounds. Turns out they are doing quite well and had much to show us. Saturday was spent with a bit of...polarity. We woke up and took our [quite witty] sign reading "Anti-War Message" to an anti-war rally downtown. We spent an hour cheering and listening to speakers, an hour making fun of people, and the last half an hour complaining. And eventually left when the speakers started saying "GOD DAMNED WAR!" to get the attention of their frozen audience. And when we ran out of things to complain about. Just like the soldiers.

Shopping, nauseatingly heavy and delicious food, rickety L (L? is it El?) rides and maps, or lack there of, defined the rest of the weekend. And the sickeningly comfortable bed at the hotel (Hotel! We love hotels!) where our view(ish) was Navy Pier.

We traveled on our own plans, never got lost and didn't need the pills.

Setting: Pool, 7:45 Monday Morning

What?! No! It couldn't possibly be that my last swimming class today. There is absolutely no way I miss being tethered to another unfit woman who needs an exercise credit while we run "about face!" to each other flailing appendages. I couldn't miss the buoyancy belts and the duck gloves and the flippers and the bad 70's rock with speedy beats that are impossible to water yog at a matching rhythm.
Will I mourn the loss of my early mornings and semi-regular shower schedule?
Perhaps I will miss all of it. And perhaps I will grieve in the form of more run-on sentences and being a bottomless pit for Kit-Kat Bars and homemade cookies from someone else's care package.
Or maybe just write a ten minute play about it for class tonight.

Camp was fine, Mom.

Home from camp.
I brought home much less sleep than I remember leaving with and also a sickness. I have since slept most of the day away. I also threw away a ceramic bowl and a perfectly good, unwrapped Kit-Kat bar shortly after I spilled scalding hot coffee all over my pants. Which were on my body. Which I had just showered.
And because I left my dignity at the government job fair today, I didn't hesitate to retrieve said items from the trash with bare hands.
In my defense, the Kit-Kat was in my own trash can with my own trash and not in the cafeteria trash can that I dropped the bowl in. And I did not eat the bowl. Is that less gross?

The Prestigionist

I will distract you with this picture of what to do when your friend's bras come out of the washing machine incredibly deformed while I run off to camp for a few days. Posting with pictures is a magical technique so you don't know that I'm posting this awhile before I actually leave because I have so much to do pre-then.
(Sri, Woman With Blow Dryer (see above) (also call her Treza) and I went to see David Sedaris Monday night and it was fantastic and incredibly satisfying. If you know of this man, you will understand my struggle to write anything about him that amounts to his greatness. He referred to muffins as "crumb bombs", which has no real relevance other than it is awesome. And also very, very accurate. Thank you to the adoption process for giving the Family Muffin great connections and free tickets for seats that were so close to the man with the mini voice we could spit on him if we tried hard.)

Winter Coat Loot: 2007

Findings:
$1.04
(1) Plastic dog miniature
(1) Giant bling ring
(1) Dr. Pepper chap stick*
(2) Necklaces with rocks from the North Shore from Winter Weekend
(much) Lint

*"Oh! Yes! My Dr. Pepper chap stick! I forget about this every spring and so every fall it's a fantastic surprise in my winter coat pocket!"
"I feel the same way about a felted ball of yarn!!"

Us: 1 The Man: 0

There is no tax on KitKat bars because they are considered a cookie.
And while you may only eat two Snickers bars, you know you would eat at least three cookies.
Go forth. Eat.

Quick Wit from Blue

Girl walks in with newly dyed blue hair.
Everyone: "Wow. Rad hair, Alex."
Alex: "Argh. Thanks. I just got back from showing my parents and they were all, 'Alex! What's with the hair?! Your body is a temple!' And I was all, 'I know it is. I'm just decorating it.' They're such losers."

Post-Its in My Pockets

"I have this friend who is in love with Alan Greenspan."
"That's weird."
"Yeah, but this is the same girl who didn't wear underwear to our high school speech and debate meets because it made her feel powerful when she looked at her male competitors."

--------------

"How do you spell 'bangled'?"
"Like for the song?"
"Yeah."
"B-a-n-g-l-e-d"
"Word won't recognize it."
"Did you hyphenate between stars and bangled?"
"Yes."
"Well how else would you ever use 'bangled'?"
"I don't know. I think you're wrong."
"Just think of The Bangles!"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Yeah, Word is for sure wrong."
-Pause-
"$^@#. It's the Star Spangled Banner."
"&*!$."

Protocol

A substantial amount of my prayers in middle school were sent up to keep the fire alarm from going off during the swimming unit of gym class because I didn't know the procedure for such a situation. And God took pity on the locker room changing, uncomfortable preteens and it was never an issue.
I can tell you now, though, that the standard procedure is to get everyone out of the pool and have them stand outside while the only building on campus to evacuate is the one with the pool.
Happy Monday.