welp

I saw a moose today. and a deer pranced  across the road, just a millisecond after I had safely passed. plus it snowed, annnd there as a rainbow.

I'm am absolutely not sure why, but these random events that just haven't occurred often as of late, happening just a few minutes apart, made me think that something magical must be in the air, and up sprung an idea to figure out how to make use of the magic.. I'm still waiting for an idea worthy of being called magical to present itself to me..

soooooo.. until then, I end up here, sitting in my office, just typing away, and I'm only typing because I drank 40 ounces of coffee, then I ran out of lives on the Frozen game which is my fave, got bored of PandaPop and Subway Surf, and I have to do something to pass the 30 minutes it takes to recuperate EACH LIFE on the Frozen game.  Isabelle got me addicted, and yes, I am ashamed for playing games with kindergartners as the intended audience, which is why i mostly hide in the bathroom to play them. I've accepted it.

I am also desperately trying to keep my self-sabotaging hands occupied, otherwise by the time I leave this building I will have accomplished nothing except to have fed myself so much taco bell and Halloween candy that I hate myself.

call it a day, Rachel.

I have spent most of my existence believing that my true joy in life comes from hosting loved ones for dinner and a party. I used to be honored when people would tease me and call me Ina or Martha.. (it was  probably just me calling myself that.. if we're being honest)

But it turns out I EFFING HATE PLANNING PARTIES.  There is wayyyy too much pressure involved with cooking or decorating or assembling anything, displaying and feeding it to people, watching their faces to see if they like it, not believing them when they say they do, hassling them for the TRUTH, getting embarrassed, drinking a bunch of wine to drown your shame, and then sometimes doing something actually embarrassing because you stressed yourself out so much that you haven't eaten for a week, therefore that wine (or whatever) hit you hard in the face and now you can't speak, see straight, or walk with even a barely convincing smidge of normalcy, so you keep rambling because you're embarrassed that you are embarrassed, and that ever you even believed you could pull off this party in the first place, and then somehow your guts explode all over the room and you barf on everybody, and start crying and everybody just stands there totally grossed out and furious, looking at you like "wtf?" and this was all because you couldn't decide between the twenty-seven-thousand stuffed mushroom recipes on pinterest.  because who knows if that's the actual picture, or if they googled a good looking picture of a stuffed mushroom and listed their own shitty recipe to go along with the pretty mushroom picture, or even worse, what if they stole it from Martha Stewart's website (whose team of 481 test kitchen people probably had to slave for DECADES trying to get that mushroom to look beautiful enough to photograph in the fucking first place!!)

it's exhausting. so I've decided to retire as a aspiring hostess-with-the-mostest..  I will be taking up something that doesn't ever exploit my performance anxiety, like secretly controlling lights with my mind. and then when people are freaking out like "what's happening to the lights?" they won't even know it's me and then BAM. still no stage fright, because they would never guess it was me.  i've also always dreamt of being one of those hard-core rocky types that works out in every spare second of the day, except that i feel more comfortable going to the gym in the dead of night so nobody can see my boobs jiggle when i run.

and here are some as-of-late pictures while I'm at it


somebody got home a little late from duck hunting. which
he took as a sign from the gods that he
should be a 'duck hunter' for Halloween,
blood on his hands and all :)



seriously look at her. I die.

sometimes she accessorizes herself, and I don't notice until we are already in public.  that would be an infinity scarf turned cross-body something or other, and a flannel-I-stole-from-trevor turned toolbelt. you should see how she walks when she's working outfits she's proud of...

she put herself in timeout at the dog park. and instead of rushing to comfort the poor doll, I take a picture and giggle almost uncontrollably to nobody but myself.