my eyes, MY EYES

I went to the eye doctor this morning, which I don't really mind, because the eye doctor is my favorite of all of the doctors. Eye appointments are the only medical appointments that I can go to and not feel like I've been molested in some way afterward. I mean, at the dentist, they poke at your tender, pink gums with sharp, metal objects and at the gyno they...well, let's just say it's similar to the dentist but they poke you in a different part of the body. And WHO KNOWS what might happen to you at the regular doctor. First they get you in that paper gown and then you are at their mercy.

So anyway, the eye doctor. The only thing I hate about going to the eye doctor is that there's a test. And as a former overachiever, who had to NOT ONLY get the best grade in the class but also finish her test before anyone else, I find this stressful. A or B? One or two? Is the first one better, or the last one? I DON'T KNOW LEAVE ME ALONE. Sometimes I think the doctor is totally messing with me, too. Like, she'll flip between two different lenses and be like, "is the first one better or the second?" and THEY ARE TOTALLY THE SAME. And then she'll make some comment like, "I bet the last one is pretty blurry," and I think, "OMG I FAIL I FAIL I NEED TO START OVER," and then I freak out and start Hulk-smashing all of the equipment and they ask me to put my credit card on the counter and back slowly out of the building.

Just kidding, that only happened once.

I decided to go to the eye doctor, even though I was pretty sure my prescription hadn't changed, so I could get contacts for the wedding. I've had contacts in the past, but the last time they ran out I just...didn't go get more. I figured I'd get them soon and that was, um, two or three years ago. OOPS. My eyesight is not that bad, so I really only wear my glasses at the movies, while driving, and sometimes while watching TV. However. I do not want to wear my glasses all day for the wedding, because eventually I get sick of them and want to rip them off of my face and stomp on them. And if I don't wear them, well, everything will be sort of pleasantly fuzzy but I figured I might want to be able to see Joe's face from the other end of the aisle so CONTACTS IT IS.

You are a thief of joy

Apparently the other day when I told you guys about my conversation with the coyote, I wasn't entirely clear that, well, I made all that up. I thought it was obvious, considering most coyotes will not stop and have a conversation with you (they are, instead, usually busy stealing babies with their dingo cousins), but SOME PEOPLE thought I actually did run into the coyote. I did not. I should also tell this person that the time a zombie came out of the pond and I threw Gerard the (not duck) Zmdleud at it, that was all made up, too. I also never fell into a wormhole. And I never found a genie lamp. I'M SORRY I lie. I can't help myself.

And now for a true story. After much (seriously MUCH) consideration, Halloween costumes have been chosen. Heidi is going to be Rainbow Brite and it is going to be amazing. Joe is going to be Charlie Brown. I am going to be Lucy and carry a football. Nancy is going to be a hot dog. I don't know what Steve is going to be. Steve? I don't have any of my costume picked out yet, not even the football, but I have faith that it will all get taken care of. Magically.

TiVo is totally conspiring against Heidi and I. It didn't record Ugly Betty last night! And we still don't have NBC, which isn't really TiVo's fault but I have to blame someone, anyway whatever, don't tell me what happened on The Office or I will have to kill you and I don't want to do that, mostly because I would get my hands dirty and I don't LIKE getting my hands dirty and that's why I hardly ever eat ribs. Or chicken wings. True story.

Last night, we caught up on bunches and bunches of TV shows. First we watched the Project Runway finale. I think I have to revise my list of 5 People I Would Like to Punch. I need to include Kenley because BITCH, SHUT UP. The only redeeming thing about her is that her dad is a tugboat captain. That's it. She is mean to Tim Gunn and for that I will punch her.

Did you know Grey's Anatomy is good again? Because it's totally good again. It's fun! And whimsical! But still sad sometimes. Ugly Betty is good again, too. I mean, I'm assuming this from last week's episode. Last night's episode might have been terrible, I don't know. I doubt it though, because Gio was back and if there's one thing I love, it's Gio. Or the actor that plays Gio anyway. Did you know he was in Can't Hardly Wait? Oh, right, everyone knows that. He was also on Six Feet Under. You know who else was on Six Feet Under? Dwight. He banged the mom. I think. They might not have banged, I don't really remember, but I know there was talk of banging. There were actually three people from Can't Hardly Wait on Six Feet Under. Gio, Lauren Ambrose, and the guy who licks pot brownie off her face in Can't Hardly Wait. I don't know his name but he's weird looking, like a ferret or something in the ferret family.

Anyway. I'm pretty excited about this weekend. Tonight? Dinner with Joe, possibly a movie, and IF HE'S LUCKY, Lucy-blue-dress shopping. Tomorrow, Heidi and I are going to this store that has ALL KINDS of random crap. It's sort of like Ikea, but even cheaper and it doesn't really sell furniture. And then we're going to get steak for dinner. STEAK. Yum. And then! We're buying pumpkins to take over to Tamara's and carve. I believe there will be spiked cider and since I like spiked anything, I'm pretty excited. Although, drinking spiked cider and then carving pumpkins doesn't sound very safe. Luckily, Tamara's husband is in med school, so if I slice off a finger, he'll probably know what to do. If anyone has any brilliant ideas for what I should carve into my pumpkin, please let me know. Last year, I created my own pumpkin face template and it ended up looking like the face of one of Calvin's snowmen. So, you know, I sort of need some help.

Internets, I wish I could quit you

Hey, remember when I said I was quitting my blog? Well, I lied. Sort of. I quit my old blog. I don't know why, really. I mean, I had reasons (they were threefold) that I came up with after the fact, but the truth is, I quit because I thought, "hmm, what would happen if I quit?" and it turns out . . . nothing would happen if I quit.

Since I really like starting new projects (and then forgetting about them), I thought I'd start a new blog. Plus, I was bored. ALSO. My old blog was over FOUR YEARS OLD. That's old! For the internet. I mean, if I had a four-year-old child, I wouldn't just quit it and leave it out in the woods somewhere to fend for itself. Probably. I know it's been less than a week since I "quit" blogging, but not blogging is seriously driving me crazy. Because, and I don't know if anyone remembers this, but a long, long time ago I told Abigail and Kat that the reason I blogged so much is because my mind is like a snake bite. And writing is like sucking out the poison (words). I don't know. It makes a lot more sense in my head.

I'm not doing that crazy thing where I try to blog every day anymore, because what the hell was I thinking? My blog-quitting coincided with reading Bird by Bird, which sort of smacked me on the head a bunch of times and said "WRITE, DAMMIT, WRITE," and so I've been making myself write at least 300 words a day. Like in story form, not just the same word 300 times. Although, if I did write the same word over and over 300 times, I'd probably pick "douchebag." But blogging does not count toward 300 words. It's way easy to write a 300 word blog, because I don't have to worry about it making sense, but 300 words of a story takes a hell of a lot longer. And requires more concentration. But I've been enforcing this 300-word rule for a few days now, and it's going pretty well. I've even been writing over 300 words. Hopefully, I can stick with it. After all, one day I'd like to have more than just How To articles published.

So, yes. I'm a big liar, but at least I'm not a quitter. I could never quit you guys, anyway. Stuff keeps happening and I'm all, "must . . . tell . . . Internets." Plus, I'm going to this wedding on Saturday and there's going to be a hot dog bar and a popcorn machine and a band wearing cheerleader uniforms and let's face it, there are going to be stories. LEGENDARY stories. And I don't think I would ever forgive myself if I didn't tell everyone I know about the magic of this hot dog bar.