I kinda like a boy. Well it's more than kinda. I definitely like a boy. And I think he kinda likes me. We shall see.

I can't stop crying. It's really quite annoying.

So my brother died. That doesn't quite cover everything. My brother committed suicide. 3 1/2 years after my mom died. 3 1/2 months after my dad was diagnosed with cancer. Life is rough.

My dietitian said she hoped I had an outlet. To unwind and all. Today I started thinking about how I unwind. Because I went to yoga class, and at the first breathe in I wanted to cry. And I wanted to cry when I breathed out. And tears kept welling up in my eyes through the entire class. And at the end of the class I was so relaxed I wanted to sleep. But in a good way.

The whole thing...the yoga class and how great I felt...led me to thinking about how I've been unwinding this past month.

I hang out with friends. I'm most myself when I am with them. If I want to talk I do. And if I don't want to talk I don't. I'm not even talking about my brother here. Just about random stuff.

I drink. A lot. I think that for two weeks after my brother died I drank every day. And I'm pretty sure I've been more drunk this month than the past couple months combined.

I eat good food. It helps that I was traveling. Traveling gives me the excuse to try new food including desserts.

I got a massage. Two of them actually. Just back massages, but they were great just the same. Thank God for massages at work.

I've been working. A lot. I've been on the road, and then in the office for a week. And I'll probably be working on my week off.

I don't work out. This has to change. See the drinking and eating points. But working out also helps me unwind. See the yoga point. I kinda forgot how much it helps me. I'm hoping to go back to the dance studio this week. I wasn't planning on it, but yoga reminded me how much I missed dance. I realize the two aren't technically connected, but for me they're just different extensions of each other. I'm off for two weeks so there's really no excuse for me to not work out.

So, between the friends, drinking, food, work, and hopeful working out I'll be able to unwind. To a degree. And one day during yoga I'll be able to cry

Grrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Random thoughts that go through my head as I'm browsing through profiles. Please note - this brings out the super-judgmental part of me.

• Guy's pic in front of a magazine rack featuring Hustler, Playboy, and other similar magazines. "Seriously? You seriously took that pic and then posted it as one of your feature pictures? Messed up."
  
• Guy with a pic of a small dog. "I don't think I can respect a guy with a small dog. It's one thing if the girl insists on getting it, but if he voluntarily picks the dog? No can do."
  
• Perusing a guy's pictures, "Oh, he's cute. (Next pic) Really cute. (Next pic) AND he has a black friend!" Which presumably means he's not a racist or biased. IE - thumbs up.
  
• Guy starts his profile off with, "I'm white, 29, athletic, etc." I automatically skip this profile because I can get that info on your stats page. I expect your profile paragraphs to be a tad more exciting.
  
• A guy's only qualification for his partner is that she be 4 - 8 feet tall. Seriously, 4 - 8 feet tall. I automatically skip your profile because a) you're clearly not selective enough and b) 4 - 8 feet tall? Why did you even bother answering the question?
  
• Guy who's only picture is him in front of a mirror, with his Blackberry which he used to take his picture. Seriously - do you not have friends who take pictures of you? And post them on their wall, and tag you on Facebook?
  
• I mentally flag any guy who says the bar scene is overrated. The bar scene has some interesting facets to it, and everyone knows it might not be the ideal place to meet people. But writing an obvious statement doesn't really help anyone.
  
• Anyone who says he doesn't read - and says it so emphatically - is written off immediately. It's one thing to say I read every now and then, or not that often, but says "No reading" - not acceptable.
  
• Sports are a must. If you don't watch sports don't bother.

And now you know why the world of online dating is so hard. Because not only am I making these snap judgments within 30 - 60 seconds of reading a profile, every other guy out there is making these snap decisions as well. You certainly make some snap decisions when you meet someone in person, but some of the items that you write off as "no big deal" when you meet someone in person are automatic "no's" when you read the profile. Learning to turn off those snap judgments is difficult - especially when you're reading. And those snap judgments are the things that hold you back from meeting that future someone.

You know when you're out with a guy that you kinda have a crush on, and he asks you a question that you would normally have an answer to like, "If you were going to be introduced to a group of people and use a song as your introduction piece what would your song be?" and you rack your brain because surely the answer is there, and instead your brain gives you BLANK, and you think, "Wow, this guy must think I'm super boring." You know how that happens? Yeah, that happened to me this week. Pretty much all week in fact.

I went with Carrie Underwood's "While We're Young and Beautiful", but that's really cause I felt pressured to provide some sort of answer. Approximately 30 seconds after I named a song I determined I didn't like it. Also I believe I said LeeAnn Rimes sang the song - but he didn't know any better.

I've perused my iTunes library and I still don't have an answer. How are you supposed to find a song that a) fits your personality and b) is appropriate for your audience? I love many many songs, but they might send the wrong message.

Gavin DeGraw's "I'm In Love With a Girl" for instance. I am not actually, in love with a girl. I'm not even in like with a girl. I just love that song.



Seabird's "Black and Blue". That's not necessarily an audience friendly song. But it's a damn good song. But I'm not sure what kind of message I'd convey if I used that song.



Jason Mraz's "Butterfly" isn't appropriate for audiences. At least not speaking audiences. But it's an incredible song.



I have a good number of Spanish songs I like, but I have no idea what the lyrics mean, and that seems rather dangerous. I have many classical songs I love, but they won't necessarily get the crowd pumped to hear me speak.

In the end I would probably pick a "classic" that everyone knows that I enjoy but don't love. Or a song that no one has heard by Pink Martini, Marc Broussard, Eric Clapton, The Roots, John Mayer, the Josh Joplin Group, Keith Urban, or Toby Keith. Such a simple question - too hard of an answer for someone who loves all sorts of music and overthinks her answers.

I believe in reading the quotes at the beginning of books, and the "to" lines, but not introductions by the author or other authors. I believe in reading a chapter of a book before I fall asleep, and reading for an hour straight at least once a week if not more. I believe in moving to the music, listening with my eyes closed, singing along, and humming when I don't know the words. I believe bonding over music, books, and sports is the fastest way to get to know someone. I believe in birthday cards, thank you cards, Christmas cards, and cards for no reason.

I believe in meals made from scratch, and hanging out in the kitchen while meals are being prepared. I believe pasta should be eaten once a week, if not daily. I believe a well balanced diet is one that incorporates a variety of sweets. I believe salads truly are delicious, as long as they're not just lettuce with dressing. I believe homemade bread is the best. I believe in buying flour in 50 pound bags and storing it in larger than life containers. I believe in automatically doubling any cookie recipe that will be consumed by 5 people or more.

I believe a good picture really does speak a thousand words, but more importantly it captures memories. I believe flowers should always be present in the home, even if they're dried flowers. I believe the best part about snow is the way it hushes the world and makes it beautiful against a day-blue sky or a dark night. I believe bonfires have a magical quality, even if you do have to take a shower before you hit the sheets so the smell doesn't linger for days.

I believe laughter is great medication, but I’m inclined to take Robitussen and Advil Cold and Sinus when I have a cold. I believe a haircut can change your outlook on life. I believe in smiling at strangers as you pass them in the hallway. I believe in talking to people in airplanes, even if it’s a short conversation regarding where they’re traveling and why. I believe happiness is a state of mind, and that we can choose to be happy even on our worst days. I believe in being passionate about all aspects of life.

I show my love through books. When I'm thinking of presents for people, I inevitably try to identify the books they would like. This makes Christmas shopping a bit difficult, especially when I'm shopping for people that don't read all that much. Even now I'm trying to identify books I can use as stocking stuffers for the whole family and I'm failing miserably. The kids don't read as much as I'd like them to, and the ones that do don't necessarily share my taste in books. But it's the thought that counts, right? Or something like that.

I am, quite frankly, sick and tired of my parents friends dying. I would be quite content if I didn't have to deal with friends or their parents dying over the next few years.

Editor's Note: I feel obliged to tell you that this story, while not overly graphic, has the tendency to make people grimace and not want to hear the rest of the story. Read at your own risk.

I've often thought that I would cut myself in the kitchen. Indeed it has happened a few times, but nothing too serious. Each incident involved a knife which was being cleaned or used to cut vegetables. I've learned to hold the blade of the knife away from my hand as I wash it, and to be more cautious while cutting vegetables. But it seems that I never thought I'd injure myself while baking.

It began while attempting to open a can of sweetened condensed milk. I was halfway through making brownies of some sort. All I needed to do was heat the milk, stir in chocolate chips, and pour the mixture on top of the butter-sugar mixture and bake. For twenty minutes. And then I could go to bed. It was already a long night of baking and I was tired. But I was determined to finish my baking mission.

I retrieved what appeared to be a working can opener from the drawer. It wasn't mine, but it's presence indicated it worked. Who keeps can openers that don't work? And in that assumption I was mistaken. It did not work. At least not well. It made a small dent in the can, and managed to get a small part of it open, but overall it was useless as a can opener. I retrieved a second can opener from the drawer. This one was worse than the first. It turned the can futilely without so much as making a hole in the can. I went back to the first can opener. Eventually I was able to get the can halfway open, and make two holes on the opposite side of the can. I just needed to pull the lid back a bit so I could dump out its contents.

(Editor's note again: this is where people get squeamish. You've been warned.)

And then I made the mistake that your mother warns you about. I put my finger under the lid and attempted to force the lid up. I was successful in forcing the lid up, but my finger slipped at the sudden release of pressure, and slipped into the edge of the can, immediately slicing it.

Pure instinct took over at that moment. I rushed to the sink, turned on the water, thrust my finger under the water wincing at the pain, while simultaneously unraveling paper towels to wrap around my finger and apply pressure. It seemed that the bleeding would not stop. Everytime I released the paper towels from my finger to examine it, it would start bleeding. And so I did the most natural thing in the world. I called my sister who lives a good 8 hours away to figure out how I know I need stitches. We both Googled in our respective homes, and found a decent amount of information that let us conclude that I may or may not need stitches. But I did not want to go to the hospital. I wanted to finish baking and go to bed.

And so while holding my finger up in the air, wrapped in paper towels, I searched for band-aids. They were quite necessary for me to complete my mission of "finish the brownies and go to bed." But I could only find small band-aids, and this was a pretty decent size cut. It was a diagonal slice on the middle part of my index finger, and a normal sized band-aid would not do. So I sent my roommates out to buy band-aids, while I applied pressure, kept my finger in the air, and complained to my sister that I "just want to finish these and go to bed!"

Eventually the band-aids returned and I was able to hold my hand at a normal height. I called a friend who happens to be a doctor, and he told me that I technically have up to 24 hours to get stitches, while making it clear that it's probably safer just to go to the ER. And with those assurances, I finished the brownies and went to bed.

It's been almost 3 weeks since this incident. The brownies turned out splendidly. I got 6 stitches the next day, and am still unable to completely use my finger, although I can type pretty well with it. I threw out the deceiving can openers, and bought a new one. I used it successfully the other day to open a can of tuna. I hope to never have a baking accident again. And let this be a lesson to you to keep your fingers and other extremities away from exposed can lids.

N00b: Can someone explain cell division?
Nerd: o
Nerd: 0
Nerd: 8
Nerd: oo

Courtesy of Bash

Am I the only one who automatically think "What's the point?" or "Sad day," or "Awwww" when the Listerine Zero commercial comes on bragging that they've removed the alcohol?

Is that a bad sign?

Dear Cold,

I can't live on a diet of soup - it's boring. I want to hang out with my friends and not fear infecting them. I want to exercise and still be able to breath. I'd like to be able to go into work and not worry about contaminating my coworkers. It's been a week. Go the fuck away.

Not lovingly,
Your host body

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Dear Former Favorite Client,

If you schedule me to come onsite the week Pink Martini comes into town I'll be angry. And I think I'll put my foot down and say I'm unavailable. So do yourself a favor, don't do it.

Respectfully,
Your favorite vendor

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Dear Politicians,

There has to be a better way to get elected than to barrage me with ads and paper advertising. Oh, and what the hell is up with the scary ads? And the pointing finger ads? They just make me angry. Grow up. And figure out how to get elected without tattling. And without making your mother ashamed.

Irritatingly,
An American Citizen

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Dear God,

I love fall, really I do. But could I get a few more days of 60 degree weather? I forgot what cold weather feels like and I kinda miss running around without heavy clothes on.

Love Always,
Me