There are all these subjects brewing in my head lately but when I go to talk about any of them I just get all "meh". It's not that I don't like to talk about shit, holy fuck, it's not that at all, wow yeah. It's more that I don't know how to say it in a way that is going to make sense to the other person and I know there is going to have to be some lead in story to get them to where my head is at and it's long because I have been thinking about this shit forever and that takes it to a crescendo level and then I'm all fuck that no. Which is totally unlike me. When's the last time I lost interest in explaining shit? I don't know either! But I am so not interested in saying what I want to say and it makes m wonder what's up. I am usually so talkative that I freak people out. I wonder if it might be because I am single right? Like maybe I am missing that person in my life that I can verbally accost daily with insipid dribble. I'm a pro at dribble. But when I think about that other person I'm not really into it, and if that's the case, how could I be missing it? I'm also pretty pleased running amok without having to worry about someone else and what they are doing and how they fit in and would what I am doing affect them in a way that could bite me in the ass and put big hulking speed bumps in the way of our forever happiness and do I care and why don't they just accept me for who I am and stop trying to make me become some creature of habit and caring? So... that's out. And it's not like I am bored. It's been a pretty crazy week over all. Lots doing, lots to talk about. I'm relatively content with everything. As much as my sad-o-meter is stuck on full voltage, I'm okay with that as well. I want to go out but if something weird happens to me while I am out alone (and believe me, it fucking will) and I feel like I want to talk about it, I won't want to and then I'll be even more disinterested in saying anything about it and this downhill snowball will grown. So I am going to keep not talking about anything and see where it goes. It's just weird and I thought I would share.
SIDE NOTE: Today is a screamy type day. I live in the suburbs and it isn't a very exciting place. In fact, it's the small town you drive past and ignore when heading to the place where you go to kick back and relax. I'm not kidding. I'm right off the main road and there have been people screaming all night as they drive by. Some are super pissed off and screaming obscenities and earlier it sounded like a caravan of people went by cheering. It's a nice change.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The information highway OR my blog
I took my mystery dead thing out for inspection and it still has an unpleasant odor. After some research I have decided to place it into a mixture of baking soda, salt and powdered bleach. It has been sitting in just the baking soda, which I change every two weeks (unless of course I move and forget it for about a month, then it's in it for a month) but the smell has remained. I'm hoping the bleach (or salt, whatevs) takes away the yuck. As much as I am into yuck, I am not into yuck.
Wish me luck!
Wish me luck!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
I'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not touching youI'm not to
Every meet that person who you like well enough when with "the group" but just can't mesh with one on one, but you don't know that until you are one on one? I don't know what my deal is. As soon as I have someone who is a touch to serious or is clearly "all grown up" and wants everyone else to act that way, I get all super huge smile total flake out personality and try as hard as I can to throw them into a get serious and grow up game that goes nowhere. the harder they try, the funnier I think it is. It isn't even a challenge to me. I don't care who wins because it isn't about winning, it's about acceptance. I also don't usually see that I am doing this until their expression is one of confusion and/or pain (think grimace) or until I am headed home feeling totally fulfilled and then realize I did nothing that was truly fulfilling and contemplate that unfounded feeling. I don't know why I don't see it while it is happening but I suspect recognizing it would be the equivalent of biting my own teeth.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Mystery is sexy!
While unpacking today I came across the thing I am mummifying. I hope you can't mummify something for to long damn it. I am usually far more responsible with things like this. I also don't usually move my dead thing collection around with me because of it's fragility. Although, while in VA we came across a deer skull and it was perfect so into the moving truck it went. I wanted to take the backbone too but it was frowned upon since the people we were staying with were older and older people can and will judge according to their timeline. They especially judge people who obviously don't give a shit what they think in a rude way. A deer spine could turn my impish don't care attitude into an I collect dead things and that makes me creepy which can be misconstrued as rude attitude and WHAM judgement. And you know I would dig myself further into the scaring old people hole by bringing up the fact that I am mummifying something in hopes that they would see me as an enthusiast of sorts. I would like to tell you what I am mummifying but I can't. I could get in trouble. Big trouble. It's not human. Humans are more trouble than they are worth when they are dead. I hope this isn't as well though. Damn. This thing is so fucking cool. If there was a cool richter scale, this would break it. This would fucking break that sucker in half. BOOM! later richter scale. You don't even know what cool is anymore.
Monday, September 20, 2010
MOM! THEY'RE DOING IT AGAIN! MOOOOOOOM!
Every year these winged insects start swarming in the yard to the right of the deck. Every year, I've always been all "whoa, cool, check out the swarm". Every year. And you know me. I've the emotional capacity of a four year old. I'm not going to let it rest until everyone I know has observed the swarm and pretended to be as excited and intrigued by it as I am. So it's not like this was something that was kept a dirty low down secret. Though I will admit, I have never dived into any type of research because lets face it, some things are made of magic and should not be explained.
This year the swarm was a cause for panic. What are they? Why are they here? What are they doing? WHERE ARE THEY ALL COMING FROM?! WHO IS THEIR LEADER?! Sort of like the winged insects were some kind of alien here to abduct us. Only they are clearly taking their time and being super inconspicuous about it if you ask me. Also, I think they look like ants. BUT TERMITES RESEMBLE ANTS AND EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!! So I played the fearless hero, took some pictures, gathered some data and ran off to see what I can find.
They are winged ants. I know this because (thank you google) they have a bend in their antenna (like an ant), a skinny little waist to define their thorax (like an ant) and their wings are not the same length (very un-termite like). They also, uh, well, heh, look just like ants.
I don't know why I am posting this. It just feels right. I mean, we can't be the only family freaking the fuck out and running about screaming in terror over something that resembles a termite, right? Whatever, screw you, it must be nice being so relaxed and perfect. One day you'll be backed into a corner and then we'll see how much this calm existence has done for you. I know my constant terror will have me scratching and biting my way out of said corner like a fucking professional.
This year the swarm was a cause for panic. What are they? Why are they here? What are they doing? WHERE ARE THEY ALL COMING FROM?! WHO IS THEIR LEADER?! Sort of like the winged insects were some kind of alien here to abduct us. Only they are clearly taking their time and being super inconspicuous about it if you ask me. Also, I think they look like ants. BUT TERMITES RESEMBLE ANTS AND EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!! So I played the fearless hero, took some pictures, gathered some data and ran off to see what I can find.
They are winged ants. I know this because (thank you google) they have a bend in their antenna (like an ant), a skinny little waist to define their thorax (like an ant) and their wings are not the same length (very un-termite like). They also, uh, well, heh, look just like ants.
I don't know why I am posting this. It just feels right. I mean, we can't be the only family freaking the fuck out and running about screaming in terror over something that resembles a termite, right? Whatever, screw you, it must be nice being so relaxed and perfect. One day you'll be backed into a corner and then we'll see how much this calm existence has done for you. I know my constant terror will have me scratching and biting my way out of said corner like a fucking professional.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Here are the winners!
This is it. Finally a finished product. If you are roaming through Boston, don't be surprised if these look familiar!!
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"Auditory Ecstasy" brought to you by RE. Hilarious and has a smooth flow! Well done!
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"Auditory Ecstasy" brought to you by RE. Hilarious and has a smooth flow! Well done!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
These are going be hung all over Boston!
I made these for The Model. It came down to these three:
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I like the last one a lot but I don't like how it compromises her hair. It was decided the center one is the winner. I'll take a picture of one hung up in town. I'm famous! YEAH!
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I like the last one a lot but I don't like how it compromises her hair. It was decided the center one is the winner. I'll take a picture of one hung up in town. I'm famous! YEAH!
Monday, September 13, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
What does the big hand say?
Everyone who is familiar with me knows that I have never respected a schedule unless it has to do with employment and even then, it's performed with impertinence. I don't plan. I have trouble showing up on time. Nothing in my life is based upon the face of a clock.
The dogs are no exception.
We walk when I see a break in the day. They eat when I remember. I let them out sporadically throughout the day. Sometimes they ask and sometimes I just think it's a good idea. I will wait until their stench literally makes me gag when I lean in to pet them or I'll bathe them because I "like it when they are really shiny" and there is truly no other reason. Nails are done every three days or two weeks later. I mean, seriously, there is nothing we do that is synonymous with timely manner. Maybe buying their food? Maybe.
All of a sudden the James is on an extremely rigid schedule.
He stays in bed no later than ten but gets up no earlier than nine. When I wake up I not only get the hairy eyeball but it's often followed up with a dissatisfied grunt and jerky disdainful kicks that gets him as far as possible from the stupid creatures who wake up at such an hour and then thought it was okay to disturb him.
Once out of bed he ambles about in the outdoors, taking his time, sniffing about and checking out the scenery with movements that are so unhurried I sometimes wonder if we have somehow gotten stuck in slow motion land and he has become a slow motion dog. I don't panic though because next up is food and feeding time gets pretty stupid. There are the pills.
Waiting in the CVS drive thru to pick up the pills...
He wont take them unless I wrestle his mouth open and shove them down his throat OR mix them with yogurt and delicately spoon feed them to him. I usually go the fight free yogurt route. I like to believe he appreciates that. Once that's done he hawks me and the food container as if my slow movements are going to get us all killed. Food is taken very seriously. Unless you count the totally insane jumping around at dinner. Which brings me full circle to why a schedule matters. Or why it started to matter.
SIDE NOTE: Cranberry juice is liquid awesome. I drink it all day and never tire of it. I find it a little to sweet straight from the container so I normally add a giant quantity of water to it. That way my teeths don't hurt from the holy hell sweet. Someone ran out and got just straight up cranberry juice and not paying attention I made up my normal water cranberry mix. Holy shit do they have to put a lot of sugar in cranberry juice. And for good reason. Now that I have successfully pulled my extremely puckered mouth from the back of my skull I will never ever say that cranberry juice is to sweet. The opposite effect is that appalling.
It used to be that the dogs got dinner at some point in the evening. Usually after it was dark because dark is night and night reminds me I have animals to feed. Well not anymore. Jim is now all over my shit as soon as that clock hits six. I mean right on the nose. (Well unless he's trying to trick me into 5:30 because he tried that once and he had been so on the money prior that I didn't check the time and just fed him. Big horrible mistake. The muscle at 5:30 can be incredible at times.)
So yeah, where in the jumping jelly beans did this come from? I want to know who taught the James how to read a clock and why! This is ridiculous. My dog has better scheduling than I do and has no problem pushing my ass around every evening just to prove it.
OMG. I only have ten minutes left. I can't work under this kind of pressure. Out.
The dogs are no exception.
We walk when I see a break in the day. They eat when I remember. I let them out sporadically throughout the day. Sometimes they ask and sometimes I just think it's a good idea. I will wait until their stench literally makes me gag when I lean in to pet them or I'll bathe them because I "like it when they are really shiny" and there is truly no other reason. Nails are done every three days or two weeks later. I mean, seriously, there is nothing we do that is synonymous with timely manner. Maybe buying their food? Maybe.
All of a sudden the James is on an extremely rigid schedule.
He stays in bed no later than ten but gets up no earlier than nine. When I wake up I not only get the hairy eyeball but it's often followed up with a dissatisfied grunt and jerky disdainful kicks that gets him as far as possible from the stupid creatures who wake up at such an hour and then thought it was okay to disturb him.
Once out of bed he ambles about in the outdoors, taking his time, sniffing about and checking out the scenery with movements that are so unhurried I sometimes wonder if we have somehow gotten stuck in slow motion land and he has become a slow motion dog. I don't panic though because next up is food and feeding time gets pretty stupid. There are the pills.
He wont take them unless I wrestle his mouth open and shove them down his throat OR mix them with yogurt and delicately spoon feed them to him. I usually go the fight free yogurt route. I like to believe he appreciates that. Once that's done he hawks me and the food container as if my slow movements are going to get us all killed. Food is taken very seriously. Unless you count the totally insane jumping around at dinner. Which brings me full circle to why a schedule matters. Or why it started to matter.
SIDE NOTE: Cranberry juice is liquid awesome. I drink it all day and never tire of it. I find it a little to sweet straight from the container so I normally add a giant quantity of water to it. That way my teeths don't hurt from the holy hell sweet. Someone ran out and got just straight up cranberry juice and not paying attention I made up my normal water cranberry mix. Holy shit do they have to put a lot of sugar in cranberry juice. And for good reason. Now that I have successfully pulled my extremely puckered mouth from the back of my skull I will never ever say that cranberry juice is to sweet. The opposite effect is that appalling.
It used to be that the dogs got dinner at some point in the evening. Usually after it was dark because dark is night and night reminds me I have animals to feed. Well not anymore. Jim is now all over my shit as soon as that clock hits six. I mean right on the nose. (Well unless he's trying to trick me into 5:30 because he tried that once and he had been so on the money prior that I didn't check the time and just fed him. Big horrible mistake. The muscle at 5:30 can be incredible at times.)
So yeah, where in the jumping jelly beans did this come from? I want to know who taught the James how to read a clock and why! This is ridiculous. My dog has better scheduling than I do and has no problem pushing my ass around every evening just to prove it.
OMG. I only have ten minutes left. I can't work under this kind of pressure. Out.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Class, today we are going to learn the value of an inch and what that can cost you when regarding no planning and spatial issues
I started moving everything around. Everything is super heavy. I measured from the wall. I had an inch to spare. I felt cocky and pleased with my discovery. The wall has a baseboard. I was off by half an inch. Two hours later I finished moving all the heavy things back to where they originated from.
The End.
The End.
Just to clarify
My very own blog critic (who will remain anonymous MM#1) contacted me today to mention me making drug references in my blog.
I am not on drugs nor do I plan to be in the future.
I do not do drugs or plan to in the near future. Well, nothing hard. Or even medium softness. Maybe soft soft. I take Aleve. I'll rarely smoke the mary jane right before watching a funny movie or taking a solid walk somewhere I am not going to bump into people and have to function like a normal human being (not applying to the person I am with at the time). I prefer (and choose) science fiction, suspense, anime, action, fantasy and drama over comedy every time and I normally live in areas that are congested. I crave sedatives when I can't sleep but more often than not end up watching a movie that is not a comedy. Now that I think of it, I crave sedatives all day, every day, but I'm thinking that is more a high strung/neurotic issue than a drug issue. It's not like I am out there mugging old women so I can go get my fix. Shit, it's not even like I am searching at all. For the sedatives, not the old lady to mug. I'm into old ladies. They give great advice and like me back just fine. They'd probably give me a $20 if I smiled and said my pleases and thank yous.
I barely drink, but I like to get hammered when I do drink, so I try to plan the night accordingly in case someone has to either kick me out or carry me out. I would so much rather have a soda and watch other people get hammered, laugh at them and go home early. If you want to drink with me, I would love that. I'll need somewhere to stash my dogs while we are out, so when we crawl back to your place, I can know they are all set and don't have to get all freaked out and then try to drunkenly get back to my dogs who are perfectly fine. I cannot make any guarantees when regarding my behavior, how long I'll last, if I'll change my mind last minute about going or how long I am going to sleep in the next day. Ball's in your court.
I am not trying to come across innocent in any way. I had my run and it was solid. I regret nothing and won't apologize but I'm finished.
Yesterday's drug reference was directly related to other people who might try to out crazy me.
I do not need drugs to out crazy anyone.
I hope that cleared everything up nicely.
I am not on drugs nor do I plan to be in the future.
I do not do drugs or plan to in the near future. Well, nothing hard. Or even medium softness. Maybe soft soft. I take Aleve. I'll rarely smoke the mary jane right before watching a funny movie or taking a solid walk somewhere I am not going to bump into people and have to function like a normal human being (not applying to the person I am with at the time). I prefer (and choose) science fiction, suspense, anime, action, fantasy and drama over comedy every time and I normally live in areas that are congested. I crave sedatives when I can't sleep but more often than not end up watching a movie that is not a comedy. Now that I think of it, I crave sedatives all day, every day, but I'm thinking that is more a high strung/neurotic issue than a drug issue. It's not like I am out there mugging old women so I can go get my fix. Shit, it's not even like I am searching at all. For the sedatives, not the old lady to mug. I'm into old ladies. They give great advice and like me back just fine. They'd probably give me a $20 if I smiled and said my pleases and thank yous.
I barely drink, but I like to get hammered when I do drink, so I try to plan the night accordingly in case someone has to either kick me out or carry me out. I would so much rather have a soda and watch other people get hammered, laugh at them and go home early. If you want to drink with me, I would love that. I'll need somewhere to stash my dogs while we are out, so when we crawl back to your place, I can know they are all set and don't have to get all freaked out and then try to drunkenly get back to my dogs who are perfectly fine. I cannot make any guarantees when regarding my behavior, how long I'll last, if I'll change my mind last minute about going or how long I am going to sleep in the next day. Ball's in your court.
I am not trying to come across innocent in any way. I had my run and it was solid. I regret nothing and won't apologize but I'm finished.
Yesterday's drug reference was directly related to other people who might try to out crazy me.
I do not need drugs to out crazy anyone.
I hope that cleared everything up nicely.
Hello! Hi! Don't worry! I'm responsible! I got it!
I want to be all, yay my life is so fresh and exciting and just listen to all the things I have to share about my fun packed life and latest awesomeness that involves going all kinds of cool and interesting places"
but
really I just moved again and I keep staring at a bunch of boxes that need to be unpacked and then I go procrastinate until I finally look at a clock and realize I am probably just an insomniac
Although I have made the decision to just suck it the fuck up and head down the hotel closest to where I live because they have a pool and I will be able to do laps and practice holding my breath. Yes I have been warned about the place. There are "supposed" questionable addict types who live there and I "shouldn't trust the pool because the people who work there are probably stealing the chlorine just to fulfill their need to be criminals". But you know what? I am not quick to judge. After spending a night there I seriously don't think it's all that bad. The room was rather decent. The staff was creepy kind but so was I and I was the one rolling in at 2 a.m., he was just the dude fulfilling his duty as an employee. Oh yeah, and the lady across the way obviously lives there, considering all the plant boxes she had on her balcony, which I will add were full of beautiful annuals. BUT she was up at the crack of dawn, reading the paper, sipping her hot coffee. Smiling. And she had it in her to frown at me for bringing two large dogs out to shit on the lawn. But smiled when I picked it up, waved in her direction and held it up so she could see I was responsible and even mustered up a feeble wave back. And you know what? The deal was sealed right then. What kind of serial killer addict grows beautiful plants from their balcony, has a fresh cup o joe to drink and reads the paper first thing in the morning while looking down on others who they believe are less than them? Seriously. Even if it was the second floor and she really didn't have a choice. I looked one step from animal and once I got a glimpse in the mirror I was almost ashamed at what I saw. Until I started laughing at how absurd everything is all the time, but especially that morning. I was the one out in public walking my two mobster dogs wearing my men's size L tank top sans bra, filthy bell bottoms I had been wearing for days, and my hair was all windblown plus all bed head. So yeah, she can do whatever she wants with that vision. I'd give me the hairy eyeball too. You know... now that I am thinking of it, I bet she wasn't the least bit concerned with the dogs and was more than a little anxious about the mess of a girl who looked homeless and seemed obsessed with dog shit.
There was signs of other inhabitants that lived there and you know what? Whatever. I just want the indoor pool. If that means I have to make nice nice with a pack of drug addict serial killers so be it. Like that has ever stopped me before. By the time I'm finished I'm sure we'll all be best friends and I'll be considering moving in with one of them because we relate about things like dogs and religion.
But back to the pool... Laps. I am in incredible shape from swimming. I'm not ready to give that up and everything else that could keep me in shape just makes me all "meh". I'll get another one of those competitive swimsuits with the racing stripes that start at my vajayjay and I'm thinking about rocking my snorkel and mask for two reasons.
1.) No need to lift your head or ever worry about getting tired and therefor getting a mouthful of chlorinated water ever because lifting your head is a task when you are that tired. Sometimes I finish up with only my legs and keeping my head above the water is a chore let me tell you. This might seem obvious, but I can also practice going underwater and swimming about like I am back in the ocean. If you think I am not going to get tropical fish pool toys and take pictures for you, you don't know me one little bit and judging me for the top half of this entry is totally uncalled for. I want to keep my performance up because I will be going back to FL to dive my ass off when I don't think I can take one more fucking day of winter. Maybe even more than that. I miss diving so much it's a little ridiculous. It makes me cry. I have missed people less. Okay, bad example but you get the drift. Emotion. It's causing emotion.
2.) Yes, I can open my eyes in chlorinated water but it stings after a while so why do it? Why not just make it so I can see easily? Sometimes I really get into my lap, close my eyes and crash into the wall. I feel like this is a better solution. If it's just that I am tired and closing my eyes to somehow trick myself into thinking the lap is shorter I will come up with a better reason.
Wait, I just thought of another reason...
3.) Everyone has told me about the caliber of people that live there. Story goes it's the crazy caliber. It's seriously like we have our own version of The Hills Have Eyes only we are not out in the middle of nowhere and you never hear anything about it. Ever. So here's my take... you say crazy, I say bring it. These people don't even know crazy. If crazy to them is living in a hotel doing mountains of drugs and staying unemployed I have them beat by a landslide. I beat that kind of crazy by mere existence. If they want to have a crazy off, I'm in.
but
really I just moved again and I keep staring at a bunch of boxes that need to be unpacked and then I go procrastinate until I finally look at a clock and realize I am probably just an insomniac
Although I have made the decision to just suck it the fuck up and head down the hotel closest to where I live because they have a pool and I will be able to do laps and practice holding my breath. Yes I have been warned about the place. There are "supposed" questionable addict types who live there and I "shouldn't trust the pool because the people who work there are probably stealing the chlorine just to fulfill their need to be criminals". But you know what? I am not quick to judge. After spending a night there I seriously don't think it's all that bad. The room was rather decent. The staff was creepy kind but so was I and I was the one rolling in at 2 a.m., he was just the dude fulfilling his duty as an employee. Oh yeah, and the lady across the way obviously lives there, considering all the plant boxes she had on her balcony, which I will add were full of beautiful annuals. BUT she was up at the crack of dawn, reading the paper, sipping her hot coffee. Smiling. And she had it in her to frown at me for bringing two large dogs out to shit on the lawn. But smiled when I picked it up, waved in her direction and held it up so she could see I was responsible and even mustered up a feeble wave back. And you know what? The deal was sealed right then. What kind of serial killer addict grows beautiful plants from their balcony, has a fresh cup o joe to drink and reads the paper first thing in the morning while looking down on others who they believe are less than them? Seriously. Even if it was the second floor and she really didn't have a choice. I looked one step from animal and once I got a glimpse in the mirror I was almost ashamed at what I saw. Until I started laughing at how absurd everything is all the time, but especially that morning. I was the one out in public walking my two mobster dogs wearing my men's size L tank top sans bra, filthy bell bottoms I had been wearing for days, and my hair was all windblown plus all bed head. So yeah, she can do whatever she wants with that vision. I'd give me the hairy eyeball too. You know... now that I am thinking of it, I bet she wasn't the least bit concerned with the dogs and was more than a little anxious about the mess of a girl who looked homeless and seemed obsessed with dog shit.
There was signs of other inhabitants that lived there and you know what? Whatever. I just want the indoor pool. If that means I have to make nice nice with a pack of drug addict serial killers so be it. Like that has ever stopped me before. By the time I'm finished I'm sure we'll all be best friends and I'll be considering moving in with one of them because we relate about things like dogs and religion.
But back to the pool... Laps. I am in incredible shape from swimming. I'm not ready to give that up and everything else that could keep me in shape just makes me all "meh". I'll get another one of those competitive swimsuits with the racing stripes that start at my vajayjay and I'm thinking about rocking my snorkel and mask for two reasons.
1.) No need to lift your head or ever worry about getting tired and therefor getting a mouthful of chlorinated water ever because lifting your head is a task when you are that tired. Sometimes I finish up with only my legs and keeping my head above the water is a chore let me tell you. This might seem obvious, but I can also practice going underwater and swimming about like I am back in the ocean. If you think I am not going to get tropical fish pool toys and take pictures for you, you don't know me one little bit and judging me for the top half of this entry is totally uncalled for. I want to keep my performance up because I will be going back to FL to dive my ass off when I don't think I can take one more fucking day of winter. Maybe even more than that. I miss diving so much it's a little ridiculous. It makes me cry. I have missed people less. Okay, bad example but you get the drift. Emotion. It's causing emotion.
2.) Yes, I can open my eyes in chlorinated water but it stings after a while so why do it? Why not just make it so I can see easily? Sometimes I really get into my lap, close my eyes and crash into the wall. I feel like this is a better solution. If it's just that I am tired and closing my eyes to somehow trick myself into thinking the lap is shorter I will come up with a better reason.
Wait, I just thought of another reason...
3.) Everyone has told me about the caliber of people that live there. Story goes it's the crazy caliber. It's seriously like we have our own version of The Hills Have Eyes only we are not out in the middle of nowhere and you never hear anything about it. Ever. So here's my take... you say crazy, I say bring it. These people don't even know crazy. If crazy to them is living in a hotel doing mountains of drugs and staying unemployed I have them beat by a landslide. I beat that kind of crazy by mere existence. If they want to have a crazy off, I'm in.
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