Shh. Just Go With It

Psst. I have a secret.

Well, not really. I just wanted you to think I did. Silly me!

It's just another rainy and cloudy day here in Lashawn-land. I'm starting to feel like Eeyore with my own personal clouds above me. Damn this rain! It's enough to drive a girl crazy...well, crazier.

But I digress.

I'd like to give a HUGE thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou to all you lovely, wonderful people who find this blog entertaining enough to follow and comment on! You rock--I give you all a round of The Desperado (as soon as I figure out what to put in it besides Tequila and maybe Tabasco sauce)!

And I just read that Gidget, known for Taco Bell fame, just died at 15. Yo quiero Taco Bell, indeed. Chihuahuas are cute, but they freak me out a little bit. I like my dogs medium-sized and furry (Shelties are my favorite breed, followed by Beagles).

Lady Gaga also wore a coat made entirely out of Kermit the Frog heads. Definitely strange, but that's Gaga for you. Never does it just halfway. Check it out:

I'm currently listening to iTunes. I'm liking that new Kid Cudi song, "I Poke Her Face"--it's catchy, and I think Lady Gaga is brilliant, so...It's one of my new faves.

I can't believe we're at the halfway point of summer! School will be starting soon, tans will fade, random romances will end...Pretty soon it'll be nothing but chunky, comfy sweaters and skinny jeans tucked into a pair of boots...and after that, big poofy coats and Arctic sub-zero temperatures. I can't believe we're about a season and a half away from winter. Blahhhhhh. I'm pretty mixed when it comes to Cleveland winters--it's an El Nino year, so it should be warm and rainy.

Hey, kind of like this summer. Coincidence? Hmm.

Gravity Rides Everything

Quick question: How many entries have I had where it rained or was raining? I think I lost count.


It's raining. Again. For the eleventy billionth time this summer.

You know what though? For all my bitching, I actually like rain. I think it's pretty, especially when everything's all green and fresh-looking, like the city had been put through the wash cycle with Tide with Bleach. I just like it a little better when we've had nothing but sunshine and warmth for at least a week.


I'm bored. Earlier I came up with the awesome idea of inventing my own drink. I want to call it The Desperado (you have to say it like there's italics automatically)...It just sounds cool. I have no idea what liquor I'd actually put in it, but I think with a name like The Desperado, it should taste badass, with a slight hint of danger and loneliness. It'd be a drink that Dirty Harry would drink. It'd be something Chuck Norris would order after kicking some ass. It'd be the epitome of awesomeness.

It should have its own aftershave.

Crack The Shutters

It's raining. Again. (Sarcastic yaaaayyyy.)

It's very freaking early, and as you all know, I loathe early mornings. Detest them. I was sooo tempted to just roll over, pull my blanket over my head, and doze on, continuing to dream about being on a boat with T-Pain (anyone who has heard that song should be cracking up right now) and Thomas the Tank Engine (watched it right before I went to sleep with Nicky). Damn this working shit. Really.

My good pal Kenny just brought me a delicious morning treat of fresh Cini-Minis from our local BK (Burger King for those not in the know), and though I'm not hungry yet, I certainly appreciate the gesture of goodwill. I will probably eat them a bit later. Like elevenish, because if I eat this early, I'll either A.) get sick, or B.) pass out at my desk, or C.) both. I'm still somewhat in a sleep-clouded fog, and I'm hoping it's going to be a slow news day today at the Lakewood store, because I am exhausted. I sure could use a Subaru snooze today.

I'm reading the morning news, and I like this quote from President Obama: "Our kids can't all aspire to be the next LeBron or Lil Wayne. I want them aspiring to be scientists and engineers, doctors and teachers, not just ballers and rappers. I want them aspiring to be a Supreme Court justice. I want them aspiring to be president of the United States."

Indeed. I think that kids should want to grow up to be scientists, because hey, science is cool even though I still don't know how to balance formulas in Chemistry, and I once cried when I couldn't figure out the mole during a Chem test, I always liked setting stuff on fire and playing with chemicals. That is the best part of Chemistry class, hands down. I dreamed of wanting to be a singer, to be the next Mariah Carey when I was little, but I also wanted to be a ballerina (until I realized I'm clumsy and can't dance), a doctor (until I realized that I'm just not good in math or math-related sciences), a teacher (until I realized I don't exactly have patience with children outside of my own), and now I want to be a lawyer because hey, I'm pretty good at forming sound arguments (except with certain boys, and then my logic and coherency embarrassingly fly out the window) and I like the whole court scene. Personally, I believe kids deserve a chance to dream, whether it be aspiring to win a Grammy or the Nobel Peace Prize.

Hmmm...You know what's a funny word? Gubernatorial. It makes me giggle a little on the inside.

It's going to be a pretty random day. Pretty random indeed. I wouldn't have it any other way.

No sir and/or ma'am.

This Is Somewhere

I'm starting to think that this may quite possibly be the worst summer ever.

Well, maybe not EVER, but definitely for this year. Let me illustrate to you via word-agry (You like that? It's like imagery, only instead of pictures, you use words. I know, I know--I'm a F-ing genius...watch out Webster, you're not the only one with an endless supply of seemingly made up words.)...Okay, it's July 11, and it has reached 80 degrees like only six or seven times. That I'm not complaining about. I don't particularly enjoy sub-Saharan temperatures, thank you. No, my problem is the rain. I feel like freaking Noah, except without the ark (and don't get any ideas up there, Big Guy. I'm not handy, I'm not D.I.Y., and I prefer my wild animals to be behind safety enclosures...)...it's ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous.

I barely have the slightest hint of a golden glow--for me, that isn't too unusual. I'm pretty much pasty pale year-round, which is another post altogether, but by July I have a bit of a tan going on. This year? Nothing.

But I digress. It's stopped raining for now, and the sun is attempting to make a fashionably late appearance.

* * *

It's 1:39 pm and I have a double cheeseburger from McDonald's, which can only mean two things: 1.)I'm hungry, and 2.)It's bitchin' time. I'd like to call this Mid-Day Musings Over A Double Cheeseburger. Come, sit.

Okay. I don't like pickles and onions and mustard on my double cheeseburgers. I think those things are pretty gross as individuals (think Sarah Palin or Rush Limbaugh), but put them together and they are disgusting as a whole (the entire GOP). I just get ketchup (or catsup, if you're one of those weird people who spells ketchup as catsup), and if I'm in the mood or not on a diet (which I currently am, which I am sort of breaking at the moment), mayonnaise. Pretty uncomplicated. I'd like to think I'm an uncomplicated person.

Pretty easy, right? How hard could that be to screw up? Ketchup, and quite possibly mayo. It isn't rocket science. You don't need to go to MIT or write a treatise on the toppings of a burger. No. It's simplicity at its best, right? Wrong. Wrongwrongwrongwrong. Those idiots put everything on my double cheeseburger. I didn't buy it; I'm at work and one of my car salesman amigos purchased it for me because I'm just so damn awesome. Perhaps he forgot to mention the only ketchup, perhaps they just screwed up. Anything is possible. However, instead of letting it ruin my already exhausting, waterlogged trainwreck of a day, I just took the top (in the burger business they call that the crown) off my dysfunctional cheeseburger and scraped it (including most of the cheese) all off. I ate it sans crown, because I'm pretty adaptable and mostly hungry and desperate.

I'm partially sated for now, which brings me to my next musing. I have to make a grand entrance at my best friend's son's 4th birthday party tonight. I'm pretty tired, and I'd love to take a nap, but alas, I am a good friend and am attending, albeit reluctantly, with my son Nicky in tow. It'll be a zoo, but I get off at 6, and the party starts at 3, which means by the time I get ready it'll be close to 7. Most of the toddling offenders should be gone by then. Let's all cross our fingers for Lashawn, okay?

I'd really appreciate it.