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Yesterday when my alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. I woke to the worst headache. I swallowed a handful of Advil and went back to sleep for a couple more hours of sleep. Skipping class wouldn’t kill me, but the headache might.

When I woke up two hours later I felt much better, but guilty for skipping class. I punished myself by shaving my legs in the shower. And none of this shaving to the knees bullshit either– I shaved from ankle to ass. I can’t remember the last time I did that. Which a) explains my lack of a love life, and b) left me wondering when did personal hygiene become a form punishment?

I was home nursing a cold this weekend, which gave me plenty of time to make out this list:

Everyone needs a shit list notepad. Thanks to Jenny and Dave for the early birthday gift.  I can say, without a doubt, I’ll be using this particular present all the time.

I hate grocery shopping. It’s not so bad when I’m only there to fetch vanilla soy milk and cold cereal, but when I’m forced to find out of the ordinary items and can’t, I lose all patience.  It doesn’t help that I don’t like asking strangers for help.  Thankfully, though, I have RLO on speed dial.

“RLO, I’m at Albertsons. Where is the molasses?”

“Next to the maple syrup.”

“Um, RLO where is the maple syrup?”

I think it would be far less work for him to just do all grocery shopping for me.  Wouldn’t you agree?  He’d argue that he’s far too busy for such tasks.  But since I’m such a charitable person when he’s pressed for time I’ll allow him to take a date along.  I’ll try and remember to leave tampons off the list.

Last night in math class I noticed the guy in front of me had brought his LDS scriptures to class.  At first I scoffed at him.  In my mind I’m like hey dumb ass, math is difficult but God can’t help you with this shit.

Towards the end of the class period I realized out of the fifteen students he was the one that understood the theories, AND HE WASN’T EVEN WRITING ANYTHING DOWN.  Do you understand how many notes I take in a class and still don’t have any idea what’s going on?  A lot, that’s how many.

Obviously I need to buy some good luck scriptures and carry them to math class with me.  Does anyone know if they make glitter pink, strawberry scented ones?  If that doesn’t work I’m hiring God as a tutor.

Click through to read “That’s What She Said.” This week’s installment is about my uber depressing love life.

After a month and a half of no scooter, I finally got word that my little girl was ready to be picked up. I begged RLO for a ride to the shop, promising him we were fine on time because the shop didn’t close until 7 pm.  I don’t admit this often, so take note: I WAS WRONG!

I may not have been able to get my scooter out of moped jail, but at least I got a chance to wear my bad ass scooter gang scarf.  And since RLO had his motorcycle I was able to wear my rad speed racer helmet.  See Internet, I do listen to you! I got a helmet just like you and my mother requested.

My beloved friend Midge sent me an email with the below photos yesterday. Since she’s not lucky enough to have her own Daisy pug, she’s found the next best thing: her baby boy, Ike, dressed like one.

I’m now scouring the Internet for a pug costume large enough to fit RLO.  I can’t think of a better birthday present than RLO baking a chocolate cake while wearing a pug costume.  Wouldn’t you agree?

Remember when I took the batteries out of my fire detectors? Well that was a really bad idea.

Last night I attempted to make cookies.  It did not turn out to be the kind of baking adventures I have with RLO.  Instead rather, I started my microwave on fire and accidentally left the oven on overnight.  Luckily the cookies had ginger, nutmeg, molasses, chocolate and cinnamon so my apartment smelled like Christmas rather than smokey.

The cookies survived, but because I used wheat flour instead of crappy white flour they turned out flat looking and dry–exactly like my love life.  Nothing like the time RLO made them for me.  When he made them I had a ginger boner for hours.

I think it’s safe to say I’m sticking to a diet of wine, cold cereal and store-bought chocolate, except for the times people take pity on me and feed me home-baked meals.

Today on the way to work I saw a man on the sidewalk with a shotgun.  A shotgun has no place in downtown Salt Lake City, so obviously he was about to go on a killing spree. I did what anyone would do, I freaked out.  I was stuck in traffic and couldn’t go anywhere so I started calling everyone I love to tell them goodbye.

Just as traffic started moving again I saw the man walk into Gallenson’s Gun Shop.  I felt like a over-dramatic idiot.  So many apologies to all those who receive rambling voice mails today, and to those of you who didn’t… you’re welcome.

I’d write a real blog post, but I’m too busy dreaming about eating more of these cookies and obsessing over this blog.  I’m also busy not cleaning my apartment, not finishing my laundry and ignoring that last bit of homework.  I’d feel worse about being so unproductive, but it’s cold and rainy outside so I’m happily cuddled under blankets with a farting pug.  Jealous?