I HATE DRIVERS. Except for me, of course.

You know what's annoying?

Driving.

ugh.

So, I wasn't doing anything wrong while I was driving before. I was just driving normally. Except the SUV in front of me decided to drive 15 mph. On a 35 mph road.

And that would have been fine, except a jerk was driving behind me.

Now, when someone is driving strangely (like driving 20 miles under the speed limit), I leave a little extra space between me and the car in front of me. Not a lot of space. Just a little extra.

So the person behind me decided, hey, that's an invitation to pass her! Woop woop! She's obviously the one driving slow!

Wrong. Guess who got stuck behind the SUV awkwardly driving in front of the pissed off ginge you just cut off and passed in a no-passing zone?

ha. ha.

Trick or Treat, smell my feet.

I'm addicted to Millionare Matchmaker.

There, I said it.

I honestly cannot stop watching it.

I CAN'T STOP.

Ugh. Why must there be marathons so I get stuck watching episode after episode. And then I get mad at these stupid millionares.

MILLIONARES. Y U SO STUPID.

Ugh. I actually had a real post planned, but I got sidetracked by Patti. And Dustin. And Rachel. Blegh.

Maybe a real post as soon as Bravo stops showing such addicting shows. Gosh darn it.

Yes, I'm a part-time Baking Bitch.

I'm baaaaaaaaack!

Kidding. I never left. I've just been busy with silly things that don't really make sense.

But I have a post today!

I know, it's a big day. Mark it on your calenders invisable readers. Go ahead, mark it. YOU AREN'T MARKING. Y U NO MARK CALENDER READERS?

hahahahaha, oh internet memes. lolz

Back to post. Must write.

Anyways.

You may know that I'm an admitted baking bitch (hence the title).

Unfortunatly, the last week has been difficult for me. Because of the gosh-darn heat wave that basically makes it impossible to exist.

But I'm not complaining. Because it really annoys me when people complain about the heat. It's like, oh, excuse me. I'll just go and change the weather for you because it's too hot for you. Tear tear.

Blagh.

Bitching officially over. Post shall now commence.

So the other day, I was given the best gift ever.

A cupcake cooker.

Me gustaaaaaaaa.

Also, awkward peanut butter is awkward. He just wanted to pop in the picture and say hello.

The little cuppycakes were adorable. But I'm not good at taking artsy pictures. But I tried.

  

Good thing I'm not a quote on quote "hipster." Otherwise I would have to turn in my artsy picture taking degree.

But don't blame me too much. I was too lazy to go through and take a picture with my camera, download it, etc. Instead I just used my webcam.

I know, all hipsters that were reading just died a little bit. No old fashioned camera? No uber pricey professional camera that is only used to take pictures of forks?

Sigh. I just disappointed an entire nation of shabbily dressed, Animal Collective listening, fancy-ily hatted (is that a word?) hipsters. Oh well. I'll just declare my love for things that don't even exist yet and they might just forgive me.

Unless that is too mainstream...

Failing. No big deal.

Shut the front door.

I can't believe I left my little blogspot alone again. Admittedly not for a month and two days but still. I miss writing on here.

So I'll start again. And sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes ( I know, usually my spelling is oh so perfect. Not.) I'm typing this on my iTouch. Wait, actually the spelling might be better than usual because of the autocorrect on here. That's a tad bit sad :P

So, this story reveals some things about me. Like that I'm supremely uncoordinated, not that you haven't guessed that before.

Anyways ... When I graduated from high school, I wasn't anymore coordinated that I am now. Shocking, isn't it? Well, at this aforementioned event, I was positioned near the end of a row. Which was helpful for me. Because it minimized the danger of me tripping over the rest of the chairs. I also thought that hey, since I'm at the end, I can throw my cap that way and still be able to find it. Smart, right? I didn't graduate high school for nothing readers.

Let's just say that that whole plan didn't exactly work out. I was already worried about my ability to throw my cap, so I took off the tassel. And I guess that confused ye old throwing arm. Because as I throw it, I realize something is wrong. Very wrong.

Let me walk you through this whole situation.

Imagine me, albino midget ginge sitting there all excited. I'm getting ready to throw my cap. Except it has a different plan. Instead of going to the left and being a nice little hat, it decides to go to the right. Straight into the face of someone sitting two seats down. Who also yelled several profanities and questions to his surrounding area.

Oops. 

Judging. So hard.

So. It's been a little while since I posted on here. Not too long. Just a month and two days.

A month.

And two days.

Seriously. I understand it's been way too long. But I promise, I had reasons.

But now that I start again, I find that the words that I want to say have escaped me. Everything that I wanted to do on this blog has kind of gone out the window in the last month, and I apologize for that. But I really can't think of a witty post that would make it up to any of the few that read this blog.

So I guess I will share with you all (again, I use that term loosely, as any followers that I might have had have prolly disappered in the last month and two days) a failure story that I told two friends the other day.

Actually, its a series of stories.

So, I have bad luck outdoors..

Like really bad luck.

And I don't remember if I already wrote this story on here or not. But I don't feel like going through all my post and looking for it. So I'll tell you all anyway.

When I was very very small, I thought it was so much fun to run around without shoes on. Like the best thing in the world fun.

I still do, but things between my feet and the grass have changed. They've become more ... strained.

The reason?

One bright summer day, I was running around my yard. I was probably yelling like a crazy person while the rest of my neighbors were judging. Unfortunatly, in the midst of this fun, I did not look down. To see the large bumblebee that was the size of the biggest toe. That was under my foot.

You can guess what happened.

BUT. That isn't the failure part. Now, see, as I was not looking down to see this giant bumblebee hanging out in my yard, I also was not looking down to see a second giant bumblebee also hanging out next to him.

Well, not next to him.

More like the exact distance a small child's legs take as a normal step before they realize they have been stung by a bee.

So yes. The first time I was stung by a bee, it was twice. One on each heel. Something that my mother, an emergency room nurse, had never seen before. Because in here words, "Usually once someone is stung by a bee, they notice. And stop running around like a complete lunatic. Also, they tend to look at the ground. And avoid other bees."

Yes, I was a very special child.

Support Uganda. Support your friends. Support Humanity.

I'm warning you. This is different.

I am steaming right now. Literally steaming mad. Why?

Ignorance.
Apathy.
Intolerance.

And a variety of things that I probably shouldn't say in a public forum. 

If you haven't heard (and that is very likely, as I only heard about it through a solitary tumblr post), Uganda is currently debating an Anti-Homosexuality Bill in their Parliament. Several versions have been tossed around, but the two major punishments for homosexuality would be seven years in prison (Edit: CNN now says that homosexuals will face life in prison) or the death penalty.

I know, back up. The death penalty. That is an option. In their rationing, homosexuality is the "death of our culture." (Their words, not mine. They are almost too disgusting to type out) So, to them, it is completely fine to kill an entire segment of the population.

What kills me is that this Bill isn't new. It has gone through the proper government channels and is now all the way up into the Ugandan Parliament. Yet, the world has done nothing. Didn't we promise "Never Again" after the Holocaust? Isn't one of the main goals of the United Nations to protect all people, regardless of gender, race, or group? And the United States. We are so quick to involve ourselves elsewhere, but we turn a blind eye to people who are under immanent danger.

So please, please, please sign this petition at AllOut.org. And read up on this tragedy on the BBC News Site, CNN website, and in the Taiwan News.

Again, this is a crime not only against the people of Uganda, but the people of the world. No one should stand for this, regardless of race, creed, gender, or culture. This is not right. This is not fair. And this must be stopped.

Once again, visit here:
http://www.allout.org/en/petition/uganda
And tell as many people as you can. Please, sign this petition. It only takes a second, and it could be the pressure needed to force the world to see this crises.

And if you don't believe that one single act can make a difference, watch this. I just hope more people follow this brave boy's example and Stand Up for what is right.

Violently Happy ...

Yes, I realize I've posted two videos in a row. And in the space of two days.

What can I say? Procrastination is hard to upkeep. Fortunately, I am very good at it.

Of course, it helps that I just got a massive influx of people from Denmark visiting this blog. It makes me feel like a real blogger with a nice side of warm bubblies. HOLLA DENMARK!




I've had a creepy obsession with Bjork before and even remixes of Bjork songs. But I really really like this one. Part of it is because its uber trippy and awkward and awesome. But the other part is that it's about being violently happy. Which makes me laugh a tad. I remember one article I read at the being of this year about being happy out of pure spite. Which actually sounds like a good motto. Not that you should be spiteful. It's just that you should be happy in spite of what others say/think/do. Prove to them how awesome you really are. Show them that they cannot take the thing that makes you, you. And you are special. There will never be another you. (I really don't think the world could handle that much epic coolness) 

Never forget to be awesome.

Creeping on Lykke Li, no big deal

So ...

I don't have much to say. Because of SUPER FUN STRESS. I AM TOTALLY NOT FREAKING OUT. NOT AT ALL.

I WANT THIS. For reals. This is the most awesome bookmark ever. In the history of the world.

To keep my mind from ... you know, not freaking out, I've been creeping on tumblr. Like ALL DAY ERRYDAY.

Hahahaha ... that phrase makes me laugh. Not normal laugh though. More like the laugh that screams "I'm-so-tired-and-stressed-that-I-may-have-just-forgotten-my-own-name"

I LOVE THAT LAUGH. Not. :)

Also, I found this wonderful awesome hilarious singer. Her name is Lykke Li. I know, you can tell by just her name that she is epic. Or hipster. Or foreign. Whichever one, it's all good. Because she is all three.

I could post every single video I've watched of hers, because they are all that good. But I'll just let you find her epic-ness on your own.

I will leave you with the very first one I saw that made me nerdgasim in delight.




Wait, I just heard that her music was used on Glee. (cue small shrieks of fangirl excitement -- about Lykke Li, not about Glee. Though I do suppose I like Glee the majority of the time.) So now you HAVE to find more of her stuff. It's basically mandatory.

What are you still doing here? YOUTUBE PEOPLE.

Happy hunting, mis compadres.

I am going to die. And it isn't even Francine's fault this time.

Are you all out there plotting against me? I'm pretty sure you are...

So, this feeling of paranoia isn't just coming out of the blue. I mean, I have random feelings of paranoia and conspiracy theories on a daily basis, but thats just the government implanting these thoughts in me. For reals.

Also, Paul McCartney is dead.

Anyways, I had another terrible driving experience today. I'm positive that this is the universe telling me that I should never drive, ever, but I could be wrong. It could be all of YOU out there. Btdubbs, I blame a world-wide conspiracy to secretly kill me. Except its not a secret anymore. SO SUCK IT.

MUST NOT GO ON A TANGENT.

(which is the derivative of the original function .... btdubbs)

(don't judge ... my brain is literally vomiting calculus right now. I give much sorryz)

SO ... I was driving on this narrow road when I see a giant tow truck parked in the lane I'm driving in. Not driving, not stopped, PARKED. IT WAS OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. Am I the only one to see a problem with this? Because obviously he didn't. And the people on the other side of the road didn't. I WAS THE ONLY ONE INVOLVED IN THAT WHOLE THANG TO HAVE AN ISSUE.

Ahem, sorry for the yelling. I just get angry when people decide that the road is now a parking lot because they have decreed it so. With the magic wand of "I hate every other driver."

Anyways, (and I realize that I use that word a ton) the cars in front of me simply pulled around this .... man (very loose interpretation of the word) and continued to drive. I, however, stopped. Why? Because there were two cars coming opposite me and I decided, "Hey, maybe I should let these cars pass me before I pull into THEIR lane, drive into upcoming traffic to pull around someone who decided they were too good to pull into a driveway."

That, apparentely, was the wrong answer.

Because, as I was waiting, this ... man ... started waving at me to go. Again. And again. And again. Obviously, because he decided that lane was for parking, I was supposed to know that the other lane had become mine to drive on. I was not told of this change. I assumed that waiting until these cars passed would be better than driving head on into traffic.

wrong wrong wrong wrong

This is also where things got a tad bit sketchy. I was driving with my loud gangster music playing and I may have forgotten that my window was open. And just so you all know, making angry hand motions and complaining loudly doesn't go over well with a "look at me, I drive a pick-up!" person. Just so you all don't try this ... because the person stated above may also be doing the same things. Except way more violently. Emphasis on the violent.

Yaaaaaaay.

And guess what? Right after I pass him, he realizes, "OH! I'm in the middle of the road! Maybe I should drive!" So he started driving behind me. Cue small heart attack.

Also, relating to this, I've also decided that the entire driving world is against me and have banded against me.

Everyone apparently decided that "Hey, let's NOT let her turn. EVER." Because me waiting to turn at a light, with my blinker on, waiting to turn left after everyone else had already passed, was not acceptable. Every other driver must have some sort of alert blinker on their dashboard that tells them when I'm trying to do ANYTHING while I'm driving. Because as I'm about to turn, this car speeds into the intersection and blocks me. So I wait. And while I'm waiting, 17 other cars come and don't let me turn. And this green light is exactly 2.4 seconds long.

Cue me in the awkward car, stuck in the middle of the intersection.

Yaaaaaaaay.

Also, cue some random dude in a creeper car with way too many air fresheners for his own good entering the scene. Imagine him pulling within a literal inch of my car (not even kidding) to yell at me. While I'm freaking out and trying to figure out what to do. Also, imagine him with flashing lights on the front of his car. BUT, he isn't a cop. No way.  Just some angry old man who likes to yell at flipping out ginges trying to turn and then give them heart palpitations.

Which was SUPER helpful when the angry man in the pick-up truck drove after me literally four minutes later.

I really get the feeling that I shouldn't drive. Ever.

The Public Transportation Chronicles, part one

Is there a drug called "Ice Tea" interweb people?

Wait, let me explain. I am not trying to become a drug dealer, or even break into the drug scene. (By the way, whenever I hear the words "drug scene," I always think of some dramatic play with actual drugs playing characters. Yes, I know I have issues.)

But this particular term confused the heck out of me. Which either says that I'm really naive and need to stop hiding in my basement all the time. Which I totally don't do. Anymore. Or that it's not actually a drug. Which would make me really dumb and this post unneeded.

(Actually I don't. My basement creeps me out after a while. Which must mean that it's REALLY weird, because I'm an epic creeper.)

(And yes, I understand. Is this post ever needed? Cue metaphyscial soul searching. And creepy music. Because creepy music ALWAYS plays during a good ole fashioned soul search. Don't worry post, I love you.)

But anyways, I'm asking because I overheard a super awkward conversation about Ice Tea on the bus a few years ago. (hence the whole "public transportation chronicles" thing ... believe it or not, I actually have had several encounters on various public venues .... shocking, I know.)

Cue me, a naive midget-girl with a red fro. Innocently whistling (I'm assuming) and snapping along with the bird calls around her. (okay no, I wasn't. I can't snap. DON'T JUDGE ME.) So there I was, just sitting there, minding my own beeswax when a certain snippet catches my ear.

"DUDE. I JUST MIXED UP THE BEST ICE TEA YESTERDAY. IT WAS AWESOME."

It was then followed with an in-depth discussion on the merits of certain flavors of Ice Tea. They even had an argument over the best type (one said lemon, the other said raspberry .... which is the most confusing, because who would choose lemon over raspberry? FOR REALS.)

Not sketchy at all, right? Now enter into the picture the fact that they were high school senior-aged boys who were heavy into the "skater" scene. As far as I know, skaters don't go around talking about their favorite mixed drink. But I could be a horrible, judgemental person and be totally wrong.

So enter you, my blog readers. Though I know many (all) of you are either silently judging me, or laughing at my naivity (it's okay, you can do both, I would) ... what is ice tea?

"Request help from Ninja Turtles"

I is a bad blogger.

I haven't updated in like 14,876 years, but I really couldn't think of anything to say. (Which is totally different from usual, I know. *cue sarcasim) So I promise I'll have an actual post soon. But in the meantime, I have been creeping around tumblr.

Maybe creeping isn't the best word. Addicted sounds a tad bit better. This one tumblr ... "ilovecharts" is literally my life right now. And they just reblogged this chart from a site called "pleated-jeans."

Is it weird that I am in love with this site because they use a picture of a person with a belt as their hyphen? Because that may or may not be why.

Not going to lie, my favorite part is the "Rub chest sensually."

I've actually just decided. I'm going to post more pictures. Because this one gives me the lolz. Why should I deny much-needed lolz from the public?

^^It's only okay that I used the term "lolz" because there is a z.

Poor Trisquits, always discriminated against.

mmmmmmmm .... ear-love

OH EME HEY.

Wait a minute while I eargasim a bit from this song.

I now have to see this movie. Like right this second.

Just listen. You shall understand. :)




That is all.

***UPDATED***

Seriously, I'm eargasiming all over the place. I just found like 18 other ah-mazing-epic-delicious-aghhhhh inducing songs from this movie. So instead of posting them all, (which I am considering) you should totes ma goats look on youtube and watch them. All of them.  But I will leave you with one such example .... did anyone yell Bjork remix?

Oh wait, I did.

BJORK REMIX. AGH.



I promise this is the end. I shall restrain myself.... as long as I can.

Rambles of the sleep deprived ...

***Note: I wrote this at 3:30 in the morning one night. Don't judge me. I'm sure it was funny at the time.***

OH EME HEY

I really want to rick roll all up in here, but that wouldn't be very nice. Granted, I would prolly pee my pants and roll on the ground laughing, but thats just me. Or I could be a really mean troll and send you to lemon party. But that would be even too much for me to bear. I've always wondered, why does  an animal have the same name as "to hold up; to support" (according to dictionary.com). Who thought a bear was supportive? Was there a bear pow-wow circle one day where one bear was like, "dooode, I'm really feeling down. I need a hug." And someone saw these and was like, "WOAH. That's so supoortive! We should totes ma goats call that something." And, since they were almost most definatly stoned at the time (because who else would approach a depressed bear besides a druggie?), they were like, "DUDE. Let's call it BEAR!" And all was right with the other druggies.  

And, I promise, I'm just overworked and not sleeping. Totally not wacked out on anything.

Hahahahaha. "wacked out" It's funny because I'm a dorky nerd.

That being said ..... watch this video. It's addictive and will kill any remaining brain cells that you have at 3:30 in the morning.





Also, it turns out this guy has a bazillion of these videos. But I totally didn't watch at least 20 of them and laugh at every. single. one.

Okay, I lied. I did.

HAPPY PI DAY!

If you haven't heard .... it's PI DAY!

Which is totally not a nerdy holiday at all. No way. It's also not a day to bake pies and pretend that you are decent at math.

Okay, I lied. IT'S BOTH OF THOSE THINGS.

This is also my favorite number-based holiday. If you don't count Avogadro's number. Which I don't.

Also, I totally don't know what Avogadro's number is. (SIX POINT OH TWO TIMES TEN TO THE TWENTY-THIRD -- sorry, nerd combustion) I'm not THAT type of nerd.

I was originally going to post this video of "What Pi Sounds Like" where this guy equated each number of pi to a musical note, but Youtube decided to be all uppity and have an Copyright error today. But I promise, I actually found this video a few days ago and posted it on my tumblr. Because I am a wanna-be-hipster.
*cue sadness and ironic looks

But I do have this friggin awesome picture for you. Enjoy the epicness.

HAHAHAHAHAHA :)

...and this is why you may find me in a ditch somewhere

I am such a failure at talking to people, I really am.... I may have verbally attacked some poor person in a stairway, but I really didn't mean to. I do hope he knew I was kidding .... otherwise, yes I will be murdered by a sassy pimp.

So, I put the message I sent to a friend about it here. Not because I feel bad-ass when I block out the names, not at all. (by the way, I feel the bad-assery coming from over here. but DEFINATLY not because the names are blocked out)

(well, maybe a little bit because of the blocks.)

p.s. I'm pretty sure these were perfectly nice people, I'm just a butt. So don't judge me too harshly. I mean, not any more than usual.

Where are you, gender book?

Hey y'all ....
 
(I know, I haven't posted in a while and you were just wondering, How will I get my daily fix of bad writing and awkward quips? Never you fear, I is here.)

Not gunna lie, that last line made me chuckle. It reminds me of a nerdy superhero.

Wait, maybe I should explain the title of this post. When I say "gender book," I don't mean a little book that you write your gender in if you forget.

"Why hello there! I haven't seen you around here before! What's your name?"
"It's ___, and I'm a (checks small book) .... female!"
"Well isn't that special! I'm a ..... male! We should get together sometime!"
"Is that what ... females do with males?"
"I don't know! Check the book!"

Is it bad that I just got really excited over the change in color? Holy flying fruitcakes, I need to get more sleep. I just realized how that might sound to a normal person. Trust me, it was HILARIOUS in my head.

Anyways, my gender book is my agenda book and I want it back. It has run away from me again and I am sad. We have a very complicated relationship. I tell it all the things I do and basically put my life in there, but you know what it decides to do? It decides, "You know what? This girl is nice to me. Lets see how stressed and neurotic she gets when I hide for a few days." Stupid inaminmate objects. Always being mean to me.

I promise, I had more to say. And it might have actually been funny to the normal human beings that (probably don't) read this blog....But after that whole "gender book" thing, I completly forget what I was going to write. Guess you'll just have to tune in next week for the amazing adventures of THE MISSING AGENDA!

Oh my ... don't lock me up. I promise, its just sleep deprivation.

Apologies and Apricots

Sorry I haven't been posting in a while. I've just been feeling kind of down, and I didn't want to put negative stuff on here. Instead, I've been posting on my tumblr. Yes I know, I now officially qualify as a hipster.

And don't judge the title. It made me laugh ... along with this picture. Enjoy :)

... and Francine is the reason why I'll go to jail.

Let me just prelude this post with an explanation. I am not a terrible driver, despite what you may think after this post (and to a certain someone ... SHUT UP! I is good at the driving!). So lets get on to the failure ...

So, I was using my GPS earlier. Her name is ... Francine. Now, we don't have that many issues. But when they do arise, she can get a bit ... pissy. Like refuse to give me directions pissy. Or insist upon a U-turn in the middle of a busy highway pissy.

I mean, its not like she is supposed to give directions or anything...

Anyways, so I was driving earlier (really! how strange!) and things were okay. I wasn't stressing, and a good song came on my hipster playlist. That was until SOMEONE decided to ride up my butt.

Wait, that sounds awkward. What I meant is that this old woman (not that I'm agist, thats just what she was) was driving so close to my bumper that I literally could not see her headlights. She was prolly about 6 inches from me at all times. And since most of you don't know me, you don't know that I have to have space when I drive. Like at least 5 full seconds worth of space. Suffice it to say, I WAS FREAKING OUT. It wasn't even that I was driving slowly! The speed limit was 25, and I was going 26. And since it was dark, and the road was windy, I thought it was a good speed. APPARTENELY NOT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

So that was stressing me out. And of course, Francine HAD to put in her two cents. I was perfectly happy slowing down to irritate the person behind me when Francine decided "HEY! I KNOW! LETS CHANGE THE ROUTE! AHAHAHAHAHA!"

As a side note, Francine always talks in a screaming voice in my head. Think of Ursula from the Little Mermaid except on like 14 Five-Hour-Energys.

Back to the story .... I'm driving, la la la la ... when Francine changes her mind. And all I hear is (as I'm passing the turn):

TURN BITCH! TURN RIGHT NOW! AHAHAHA YOU ARE GOING TO MISS THE TURN! SERVES YOU RIGHT FOR IGNORING ME BEFORE! OH WATCH THE POTHOLE! HAHA YOU HIT IT! SUUUUCK IT! AND IN 4.6 MILES, KEEP RIGHT. IF YOU DARE. HAHAHA!

And thats how I hit a pothole the size of a small beluga whale on my way home.

Oh, and the best part? THE OLD WOMAN STILL FOLLOWED ME.

ack.

Dear Computer...

Know what would be cool?
You working.

I mean, I know we have a long and tumultous relationship, but really. That doesn't give you the right to guess what I want to do. I really don't want to be typing "google" into the address bar just so you can take me to my homepage (which is yahoo). Am I sensing a bit of hostility with the whole google enterprise? This isn't even the first time this hase happened. Lately, you've just refused to bring me to blogger, which is how I update my dear little bloggie-poo. And guess who blogger is associated with? GOOGLE! THE INJUSTICE!

What is your problem computer? For real! Do you object to search engines? I am so confused. Can we just work this problem out? I'm always up to talk.

I promise, I still love you. We are just going through a bit of a rough patch right now. Please don't shut down on me and cause massive errors. You are the bestest computer ever and ever and ever. (you too Windows, I know you can hold grudges)

SIncerely,
me

Love?

Ho hum. I know what you all are thinking. "Yet another sad anti-lovey-dovey-Valentine's Day post. Let me skip over. Blah blah blah."

HAHAHAHAHA. SUCK IT. YOU'RE WRONG.

First of all, it's not Valentine's Day anymore. It's actually a whole day later. So suuuuuck it. Second of all, it's not about love. It's about my puppy.

But, I shall talk about my Valentine's Day (or Single Awareness Day) if I must. Once again, I did not have a "Valentine," but honestly, I don't think I wanted one. Instead I had a party with my friends and ate red velvet cupcakes. Which are delicious. Period. End of story. I mean, I would have liked to have one, but whatever. Something else I hate is when people sit there and complain about it being Single Awareness Day wah wah wah. I'm so sad. Look at me complaining. I just realized that I don't have a significant other. wah wah wah. (Insert whiny accent into last few sentances). ACK. For reals, if you are going to base your whole happiness on that, then I can pretty much guess why you are alone. If your happiness depends on being in a realationship that sociey has deemed acceptable, then that isn't true happiness.

That being said. I am a hypocrite. What person doesn't sit there on Valentine's Day and feel a bit bad because they are alone? The only difference -- I'd rather do things that make me happy. So I did. And that's where the red velvet came from. Anyways, back onto the purpose of this post ... my puppy.

My puppy .... ahhhh <3

I love her. So much. Sometimes she is the only one that keeps me sane. Even after a terrible day, an awful headache, and lots of work to do, just burying my face in her fur makes me feel so much better. Not that it's cliche or anything. But for real. I have actual reasons why I love her so much.

She is a teeny-tiny puppy (she's actually 3) and is our little runt. She just happens to be the perfect size to carry around like a small hairy child or deformed monkey.

She is soooo awkward. Just like me. She has a little Yoda face and an awkward little tail. Ah. She also has these awkward little habits. Like she has these "babies" (don't get your panties in a twist, they aren't real babies. they are little stuffed animals) that she enjoys carrying around. After she kills them of course. And by killing, I mean tearing the stuffing out and popping the squeaker. And the "skins" become her little toys. She carrys them around, throws them at you, and puts them all in her little bed.

But enough about my awkward little doggie. She is my special girl (and I don't mean that she is mentally impaired, she is smart when she wants to be) and she loves me unconditionally. No matter what kind of day I'm having, all I have to say is "Maggie? Want to snuuuuuggle?" And she'll get all excited. Just seeing that excitement makes me feel awesome. Like there is someone out there that will always be on my side, no matter what. Considering everything else, I couldn't ask for anything more.