Chad Ochocinco is a sexy, sexy man.
The thing is, his last name is OCHOCINCO. ON PURPOSE.
I'm sorry, but among the many good reasons that exist for changing your last name, mainly if you get married or your last name just happens to suck, the desire to reflect the numbers on the back of your jersey is not one of them.
Changing your last name to your football number is about as stupid as getting a tattoo. Yes, I realize many of you have tattoos. And yes, I think you're a fool for getting one. And no, I don't care how much those song lyrics or some cryptic symbol that most people don't understand reflects who you are or who you used to be or reminds you of someone who passed away. But it's okay, I'll still be your friend. But only the kind of friends who don't get matching tattoos.
Chad, even though you also did a sort of foolish thing by making a kinda-sorta-permanent life change in order to reflect something that's really only temporary, I will still be your friend. Mostly because you're hot. If you and Cheryl Burke break up (are they even together? Does anyone know? Why is she wearing his "thank you" diamond ring on her ring finger?), call me.
Nicole Scherzinger, you can call me too. You are also hot and I would like to be in the Pussycat Dolls. Let's discuss.
Now that Buzz Aldrin is gone, there are some seriously sexy people left on Dancing With the Stars.
I love television.
"I'm one stomach flu away from my goal weight"
Friday, April 9, 2010
Labels:
Arielle's least favorite things,
Not so happy stuff,
Scary shit
Any woman who has ever wanted to lose even one pound would be lying if she said she wasn't secretly jealous of people who lost weight from being violently ill (you've thought this too, don't lie).
As I have finally recovered from my first stomach virus in...13 or so years, I am here to say that IT IS NOT WORTH IT.
Having to run off the bus when you're only halfway home because you think you're about to be sick, and then calling your roommate to come pick you up because there isn't another bus for 45 minutes? NOT WORTH IT.
Laying in bed for 7 hours and not sleeping at all because of intense nausea interspersed with bouts of stomach pain that feel like someone has a death grip on your internal organs? (Plus, you know, the intermittent trips to the bathroom to vomit). NOT WORTH IT.
Missing both work and class because you can barely walk from the couch to your bedroom to get a hoodie when, by the way, there is no reason for you to be in a hoodie, fleece pants and nap socks when it's almost 80 degrees outside? NOT WORTH IT.
100.1 fever? Every muscle in your body aching? Being hot, cold, light-headed and nauseous all at the same time? NOT WORTH IT.
I lost 6 pounds in 36 hours and friends, you could not pay me enough to go through that again.
But on the bright side, I am alive and well and my appetite is back and I can actually go downstairs to get the mail. And no, it was not food poisoning (I'm not sure why everyone asks that right after I blatantly say "stomach virus") and yes, I know where I got it from and you can read about it here! If you read the article, which about 1 of you will, you will see that even though I was alone in my apartment, I was clearly not alone in my suffering.
As I have finally recovered from my first stomach virus in...13 or so years, I am here to say that IT IS NOT WORTH IT.
Having to run off the bus when you're only halfway home because you think you're about to be sick, and then calling your roommate to come pick you up because there isn't another bus for 45 minutes? NOT WORTH IT.
Laying in bed for 7 hours and not sleeping at all because of intense nausea interspersed with bouts of stomach pain that feel like someone has a death grip on your internal organs? (Plus, you know, the intermittent trips to the bathroom to vomit). NOT WORTH IT.
Missing both work and class because you can barely walk from the couch to your bedroom to get a hoodie when, by the way, there is no reason for you to be in a hoodie, fleece pants and nap socks when it's almost 80 degrees outside? NOT WORTH IT.
100.1 fever? Every muscle in your body aching? Being hot, cold, light-headed and nauseous all at the same time? NOT WORTH IT.
I lost 6 pounds in 36 hours and friends, you could not pay me enough to go through that again.
But on the bright side, I am alive and well and my appetite is back and I can actually go downstairs to get the mail. And no, it was not food poisoning (I'm not sure why everyone asks that right after I blatantly say "stomach virus") and yes, I know where I got it from and you can read about it here! If you read the article, which about 1 of you will, you will see that even though I was alone in my apartment, I was clearly not alone in my suffering.
Admitting defeat
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Labels:
My crazy family,
Random Observations
You know what's impossible? Folding fitted sheets.
This is particularly unfortunate for me because fitted sheets are the only kind that I use. I grew up in a flat-sheet-less household and to this day I have no idea what the flat sheet is for. You are welcome to use the comment section to try and sell me on the flat sheet idea, but I promise you, I will never become a flat sheet user.
Seriously, though. How on earth do you make something look nice when it has crinkly elastic around the entire border? Every time I wash one of my sheets I put in a concerted effort to folding it and it always comes out looking like a big pile of ineptitude.
You find me someone who can properly fold a fitted sheet and I will find you Santa Claus or the messiah or someone else who simply does not exist. Or my grandma. While I happen to know that my grandma uses sheets that are fitted only at the corners and are thus much easier to fold, I bet she could fold one of my sheets. My grandma is the best folder I know. She is lightyears ahead of the second best folder I know, which is me. Every time I come home, my mom asks me to fold the laundry because I'm so excellent at it. True story.
I could probably get my grandma to teach me to fold my fitted sheets, except for the fact that she is far more patient and meticulous than I am and I am simply not prepared to spend the requisite 45 minutes that she would in order to get that sheet folded. So instead, I will live my life with fitted sheets that look like this:
Oh well.
This is particularly unfortunate for me because fitted sheets are the only kind that I use. I grew up in a flat-sheet-less household and to this day I have no idea what the flat sheet is for. You are welcome to use the comment section to try and sell me on the flat sheet idea, but I promise you, I will never become a flat sheet user.
Seriously, though. How on earth do you make something look nice when it has crinkly elastic around the entire border? Every time I wash one of my sheets I put in a concerted effort to folding it and it always comes out looking like a big pile of ineptitude.
You find me someone who can properly fold a fitted sheet and I will find you Santa Claus or the messiah or someone else who simply does not exist. Or my grandma. While I happen to know that my grandma uses sheets that are fitted only at the corners and are thus much easier to fold, I bet she could fold one of my sheets. My grandma is the best folder I know. She is lightyears ahead of the second best folder I know, which is me. Every time I come home, my mom asks me to fold the laundry because I'm so excellent at it. True story.
I could probably get my grandma to teach me to fold my fitted sheets, except for the fact that she is far more patient and meticulous than I am and I am simply not prepared to spend the requisite 45 minutes that she would in order to get that sheet folded. So instead, I will live my life with fitted sheets that look like this:
Oh well.