Remember Oregon Trail? Of course you do. Pixelated horses and pixelated rivers and pixelated buffalo. It was the highlight of my day when I got some good Oregon Trail time in. We became experts at the right amount of food, right amount of bullets. We knew the risks of fording the river. We (I) hated hunting.
Sometimes we died of dysentery. Like this week, when C and I died of dysentery from getting supplies at Fort Pizza Hut. It was Sunday evening, it was a thousand billion degrees outside, and we were starving after spending an afternoon at the pool. E doesn’t eat meat or dairy, so she got breadsticks and was spared the indignity that C and I suffered.
Oh yeah, Pizza Hut. Your pizza, which was delicious at the time, made us sick. Not right away. No, it waited like a freaking lion in the brush and then pounced like we were wounded gazelle. It has lasted three entire days. Boo, Pizza Hut! Boo for making us die of dysentery!
We did not make it to Oregon. We suffered quietly in the back of our wagon while E bumped us along the rocky, miserable road to wherever it is our sorry carcasses gave in to your cheesy, doughy toxins.
HERE LIE C AND R. THEY DIED WITH A WHIMPER. AND A BANG. BECAUSE THEY EXPLODED.
Tonight I was nomming on an ear of corn. I swallowed a mouthful of deliciousness and a stray kernel got stuck in that spot. You know the one I’m talking about. The one where you throat starts to tickle and then spam and then you’re sputtering and choking and gasping for air? I coughed to dislodge the kernel and something HORRIBLE happened as a result. Just imagine that there is a big wad of chewed up corn sitting in your esophagus when you cough. GUESS WHAT HAPPENS.
Well, what I didn’t throw up ended up in my SINUSES, so I spent a good three minutes in the bathroom blowing my nose to get rid of all the CORN. My sinuses still hurt and my throat is raw. WHY CORN WHY. I couldn’t even finish it, which was sad because it was delicious corn.
Okay so. Today we went to the pool. I have such a different relationship with the pool as an adult in comparison to as a child. It’s still irresistible. I love the smell of chlorine, the sound of wet feet on warm pavement, and floating on my back, staring up at a deep blue sky. But it’s not a place I play so much anymore as it is a place where I lounge.
We are kind of serious about lounging. We have huge plush towels, tons of sunscreen, books, beverages. Today at the store we realized that Sauza makes margaritas for lazy people. You literally twist the lid off a bottle and POUR. So what do two thirty-somethings do when faced with such a miraculous invention? They buy a 1 liter SUPER THERMOS and then dump the entire bottle of margarita inside and go to the pool for a few hours.
We roll hard, what can I say?
So this afternoon, after some sips of margarita and a dip in the pool, I was laying on my lounger, head on my arms and enjoying the day. All of a sudden, a small child (who had been following us around while her parents paid NO ATTENTION TO HER SWIMMING IN A POOL) poked me in the face and said, “BOO!” I ignored her for a second and then she poked me AGAIN. I may or may not have glared at this child and told her, “Do not touch me again.” To which she may or may not have responded, “I didn’t do it!” and then ran away when her mom told her to “get out of their faces”.
How about STOP TOUCHING STRANGERS ON THE FACE.
I don’t have kids. I choose to have a dog instead of a child, but I have a lot of friends who have kids. I love their kids, even if I’ve never met them. I think their babies are the most adorable, and I’m exceedingly proud of ‘my kids.’ I really, really don’t have kids.
Today when I came home from Target, I pulled up outside our building because the little table we’ve been eyeing for behind our couch was on clearance and I didn’t feel like lugging it from our parking spot. As I was pulling back into our parking area, I waited off to the side while a big truck dropped someone off. He started backing up, I started moving forward and right out of his way and all of a sudden, a little girl, about 8 or 9, zipped up behind the truck on her little scooter thing, went around the truck to the left WHILE IT WAS MOVING BACKWARD, and just kept on going like nothing had happened. The person driving the truck slammed on their brakes and we both sat there for a moment, flabbergasted.
Friends of mine with children, please please educate them on safety while biking/skating/playing, especially if you live in a shared community like an apartment complex. The kids here play in the parking lot, darting around parked cars and not hesitating before running out into the parking lot. I want them to know that it’s dangerous to run around cars without looking first. I want them to know bike safety and pedestrian safety. I don’t want to see any more near misses when I look out the window.
I am very lazy and am “pressing” my blog post at Fatcersize here on this blog. Because lazy.
Got my ass handed to me…by a treadmill.
Things Franny Hates
Not getting the food she wants
Fireworks, gunshots, loud noises
Things Franny Loves
Real lady talk
Gonna bust out some lady talk here, so if candid lady talk is too much for you, then skip down to the next section. So if you go for 3 years without having a period and then you suddenly start having them again, IT REALLY SUCKS. Like, my back was cranky this morning and I couldn’t figure out why and then BAM! Someone starts stabbing my uterus with an hor d’ouevres fork.
Please send chocolate and ibuprofin to my mouth, STAT.
So exactly how ridiculous is Bryce Harper? There is not a human scale in existence for how ridiculous he is. Nine homers in the first what, 23 games? You know who else is ridiculous? Anyone who is a starting pitcher for the Dodgers. Nine seems to be the magic number this season because guess how many SPs the Dodgers have had in 23 games? Nine! Oh, Dodgers. We feel you.
How’d this get here?
Speaking of starting rotations, the Giants have been pretty unlucky with their pitching staff this season. The most consistent person has been Madison Bumgarner, followed closely by Zito and Lincecum (in my opinion). Matt Cain hasn’t been awful but the outcomes of his games make that hard to believe. Last night in San Diego, Tim Lincecum battled through a second quality start, going into the seventh and retiring 9. NINE. It’s the number of 2013.
*None of these gifs were made by me!
The Giants just won in a walk-off and I don’t know about you guys, but seeing all of the guys pouring out of the dugout, jumping up and down in a big circle, and looking like a bunch of kids just reminds me of the entire post season. All the disappointments, all the missed opportunities and quiet bats, and then the speech and #RallyZito and #RallyEnchiladas and Posey’s grand slam…
I cannot begin to express how glad I am to see that energy carried over into 2013. I LOVE THIS TEAM, Y’ALL.