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Freaky Deaky


Sometimes I look at my blog stats and say to myself, “How the HECK did some of these people find me?”

I know I was in MSNBC

I know I link my tweeetz to this site

I know I force all of my friends and family to have this on their ‘favorites’

But other than that…how does the mystery of the world wide web play a role in my blog visitors? (Perhaps Sandra Bullock can tell us someday)

Well, thanks to wordpress, I have a glimpse into the search engine terms that brought some of you here. Many make sense: “bob loblaw” or “unemployed blog”. Those are obvi. Others  remind me of some of my old OLD posts that I had forgotten about. Like: “Johnson baby shampoo”, “Who invented the snuggie?”, “Nilla Wafer” or “Joey Fatone”. The following fall under the category of “I bet these people were surprised when they typed this into google and my blog came up as a resource”: (these are 100% factual)

  • Inches of hair
  • Magician’s assistant wanted
  • Sounds like my ex
  • Rascal dog
  • Grandparents golfing
  • Cute bobs
  • Get paid to party
  • Dunk tank “cold water”
  • Clean up kitchen, signage
  • Cute animals no water?
  • Tongue depressor
  • Office party
  • Ugliest dog

and my personal favorite,

  • Trustworthy man

Bet you didn’t know you were getting all of THAT when you hacked in here did ya?

But sers, for realzies…thanks for stopping by. I xoxo you.


Back on a futon…I’ve come full circle,


Listening to: I sleep with a fan.

On my mind: What’s more inappropriate in a professional email: a smiley face or a winkey face?


Remains of the Day

The key my sister made me to her house--where I'm staying for the next 2 weeks.

The key my sister made me to her house--where I'm staying for the next 2 weeks.

Well, we moved yesterday. (Cue Charlie Brown music and montage of the last 2 years)

With the gracious help of our friends, we packed all our lives into a 10X10 storage unit fondly named “Madam Tussaud’s House of Crap”.

I also discovered I’m a really good packer. It goes against all logic that i would be good with organizational details such as these but poof: I’m kind of the master.

The tricky part was that we had to pack accordingly for A. Our 3 week trip to Kenya (In 12 days!) B. The interim 2 week period before Kenya C. What we will need when we get back and are living with friends before we find permanent housing and D. The rest of our belongings/crap.

So I came up with a system. We marked everything 1 2 or 3 according to each phase of our lives in the next few months. I know. Its mind blowing. When I first thought of it I exclaimed, “By golly, this is so brilliant it just might work!”

My biggest life lesson is that packing makes you realize how much crap you own and how much dust was under your bed. And where that Werther’s Original that fell out of your mouth that one time ended up. 

From a 4 leaf clover earring that fell out of one of my boxes, to the pair of underwear our guy friends found when they moved our dresser, to the 2 stuffed animals that we uncovered when packing Fulmer’s bed, to the Joey Fatone bobblehead that was in one of our boxes, the day was full of shame and excuses. Mostly shame.

What can we say? You accumulate a bunch of stuff in 2 years. So sue us.

Also, one of our biggest boxes was, of course, our costume box. Complete with corn on the cob costume, leopard print pantsuit and pair of hot dog hats. These are the irreplaceable treasures of life, my friends.

Couch Surfer,


Listening to: “Bad Day” by Daniel Powter came on Saturday night when we were packing up the kitchen. It was so perfect.

On my mind:I bought an asexual bag for Kenya and brought it into work full of books for my research. One man walked by and asked if it was his (he has the same one) and a woman stopped and said her husband has the same bag. Never felt like more of a woman.

{Pre-Teen Poetry} First Edition: Men


There was a lot I knew about in the 8th grade: Malls, Umbros, Abercrombie, The Chicago Bulls, and angst.

That’s right: angst.

According to a book of poems I just uncovered whilst moving out of my current apartment, 13 year old Lyndsay had emoting down to a science. A rhyming science at that.

From sexism, to the apocalypse, to racism, to dating: I covered it all. After all, who better to comment on these important issues than an 8th grader in Minnesota?

So, in honor of the young activist from once upon a teenage time, I plan on sharing one or two stanzas from these mid 90’s masterpieces, once a week, until I’m fresh out. It’s only fair that the world benefit from my pre-pubescent-ly deep thoughts.

First up, an expose on “Men”. (Someone remind me how a middle schooler knows anything about this?) I’d say my thought process is spot on. I was so mature.

I actually cannot believe I’m putting these out in cyberspace. I have a feeling I’m going to regret this. Here goes nothin’.

Men, men what can I say?
They think they’re all cool, but try as they may.
They cannot look cool in front of their ‘her’s’,
But most of their ‘her’s’ think they’re immature.
They yell and are loud to get her attention,
But the end result is usually detention.
They rant and rave and make lots of noise,
Maybe it’s cuz the only men in my class are BOYS
BOOM. Powerful ending. Well played, Lynds. So there you have it. In summation I was just 13 waitin for a real man to walk into my homeroom. So what?
I told you it was gonna be outrageous,
Listening to:One man trying to convince another that the term “recycling” is redundant and that it should just be cycling. Oy.
On my mind: I walked into my neighborhood Thai restaurant for some Tom Khar soup and I saw a sign for a University of Chicago Case Study entitled, “Do You Overeat?”. I did not appreciate the implication, thankyouverymuch.



Lots can happen in a day, eh?

Here’s what’s been going on in my glamorous life.

Tuesday I overheard a D bag telling his friends a story about a girl. I just caught the tale end which sounded like this: “A single tear. Down her cheek. A single tear! hahahahhaha”

Then they all chest bumped, slapped each other on the arse with gym towels and used rifles to shoot a deer. Which was weird because we were at a sushi restaurant.

I also got passed on the sidewalk by a pedestrian. AKA I was walking at a leisurely pace and this guy in a backpack got off the sidewalk, passed the parked cars, got into the bike lane to speed up and get back on the sidewalk ahead of me. The twisted part was, as soon as i realized what he was doing, I picked up my pace. Which almost completely defeated his point. Haven’t you ever done that? I do it in cars too. As soon as I think someone wants to pass me I’m all, “Oh YEAH? I’ll show YOU slow.”

Anger management.

Yesterday, while walking home from some errands, my ipod shuffled to a Taylor Swift song called “Place in This World” (not to be confused with the early 90s ballad by Michael W Smith of the same name). When she sung “I’m just a girl, tryin’ to find my place in this world,” I said out loud, “Me too, Taylor, me too.”  Lucky for me, and the unassuming public, no one was in close enough range to hear my one way convo with Tay.

Also on Tuesday, Fulms and I went to REI to try on travel packs for Kenya. We couldn’t have looked less granola/kayak/Patagonia. We were both in sundresses and looked completely out of our element. Ways we made our sales rep uncomfortable: 1. As he is measuring my torso to see what size I need, Fulmer goes “Get it gurl”.  2. After he fits a large, weighed down pack to my back I comment, “It fits well. Sort of like you’re spooning. I might never take this thing off.” I imagine he hasn’t ever heard a lonelier backpacking analogy in his entire career.

Lastly, my highlight from this week was when we had Bridge and Emma over for a final dinner at our apartment and after her toast, Fulms raised her glass and said “Here Ye, here ye!”

It was the most judicial toast we’ve ever made.

Stay tuned tomorrow for the first edition of: Poems from Jr High: Pre-teen Angst Revisited. Where once a week I will delight you with my 7th 8th and 9th grade thoughts on the world.

Be Ye Warned,


Listening to: My body hate me because I was up before 8 AM today. I’m not cut out for mornings.

On my mind: I bought 8 wine glasses at Crate and Barrel and carried them home on my bike. How’s THAT for talent. I need a car.



Remember when Fulmer and I got the idea last night around 10pm to go scavenge local stores in our neighborhood for moving boxes?

Remember how we got to 7-11 and found a HUGE bounty of boxes and how we then grabbed more than 5 apiece and schlepped them over 7 blocks home? Remember also how we had bought Chipotle Gardetto’s as a snack for our late night packing and so Fulms had to carry them in her mouth all the way back home cuz her hands were full of boxes?

Remember how in the middle of a crosswalk, Fulmer fumbled and dropped a few of the boxes just as the orange hand started flashing and how I panicked and the dramatist in me almost screamed “LEAVE THE BOXES, SAVE YOURSELF!! but in reality there wasn’t a car in sight for blocks.

Remember how halfway home we got so tired that we just started dragging the boxes and how we dragged them loudly past a couple who was making out on the street? How’s THAT for ambiance.

Remember how we had gone to the gym earlier that night for the first time in months so my arms were already sore from all the girl-push ups I did? Remember how in the home stretch (the alley behind our apt) there was a big church van going to fast and we had to drop our boxes and get out of the way?

Remember how when we got home with our treasure, we realized our packing tape was out?

Just a day.


the life,


Listening to: The new Imogen Heap album. SO so good.

On my mind: I like off-brand items because they cut right to the chase. Instead of Ritz Crackers, they say ‘snack crackers’. I appreciate the honesty



Today, just to be zany, I poured my coffee into one of those ridiculously over-sized mugs that often double as soup bowls.

I don’t even know where we got it. But it’s black and large and the 1996 in me wanted to use it to be extra trendy a la “Friends” cast members when they drank coffee at Central Perk.


Its way cooler to drink your coffee out of disproportionate mugs. It means you’re an artist. And you hold it in both hands while you sip your coffee and think deep thoughts about life. And stuff.


Here’s proof: Look at Chandler’s mug in this pic.

He better drink that fast or it’ll get cold. It holds a lot of coffee. Like way more than you can drink while its still hot. But it looks cool. I swear.

Deep thoughts, Cold Coffee,


Listening to:  Rascal Flatts. That boy can siiiiing.

On my mind: I’m bringing ‘frenching’ back. Just you wait.



If ever there was a question about how odd I am, it is settled now.

I am a strange woman.

I say this because I finally started packing up my things for the big move next weekend and if someone judged me by my belongings, I’d be alone forever.

For example, you know how in “Dating in the Dark” the contestants get to rummage through the opposite sex’s luggage or purses or wallets to get a better idea of what they’re like? Yeah, if that was me, I’d be toast. The guys would be like, “Well, this chick has a half eaten snickers bar in the bottom of her purse next to a fake mustache. And there’s pesos in here for some reason too. And what the…is that a pocket watch?”

So, in an effort to simplify my life, I’ve been trying to get rid of things that I no longer need. Because I’ve realized that I’m kind of a pack rat. And I’m not positive but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be any kind of rat if I can avoid it.

So ANYWAY. Here are a few things I found whilst rumaging through my things. This is proof  that even Horatio couldn’t deny:

  • 2 of my old flip cell phones. And my pager from middle school.
  • My certificate of adoption for the Puffin that John adopted for me 2 years ago. Her name is EN-53. She lives on Egg Rock Island. She is 28. I recall asking him at the time if he got a discount cuz she was so old.
  • A bowling shirt that says “The Griswold’s” on the back and “Ruby” on the breast pocket.
  • A pair of stuffed animal arctic seals. That my ex boyfriend got me 3 years ago from the Shedd Aquairium. And that I named Ruth and Boaz.
  • A framed senior picture of me giving Emma a piggyback ride. It was a good idea at the time.
  • A plethera of mixed CDs from high school that all have names like “Mix it Up”, “El Mixo” and “Chex Mix”. Apparantly I did not want to forget that they were in fact MIX cds. Phew.
  • A “Gone with the Wind” poster of Rhett and Scarlett
  • A book of poems I wrote in Jr. High. Topics covered include: racism, dating, judgement day, teen pregnancy and generation X.
  • A teenage mutant ninja turtles ‘happy birthday’ sign
  • Several wallet sized singlets of the cast of “Arrested Development”
  • A small Chinese parasol

Unfortunately that’s just the tip of the eccentric iceburg.

Ummm can we still be friends? 

With arms wide open,


Listening to:P Diddy’s AWFUL performance on CSI:Miami. I mean really awful. I was also surprised he didn’t negotiate some Ciroq product placement.

On my mind:Emma and I once got a ride in a 197os white stretch limo posing as a cab. We were going to Panera. He only charged us $5. It was Emmas first limo ride. I told her that having this as her first limo ride was like having her first slow dance in a 7-11. We lead luxurious livez.