The thing about being delirious...

Things I miss about 2004...

Senior slide. Finding Nemo. Hopes and dreams. Atkins diet. The WB. Paris, France. Coin operated laundry. Florida sunshine. Naiivete. The Ellen D Show. My spry youthful body. Excelling academically. Contact lenses. A future. Palm trees. 99 Bananas. Novelty. Innocence. Obsession. Stargate. Science Channel. Chicken Salad Sandwiches. Boxing classes. The people. The places. The pop culture.

Things I will miss about 2009...

...

...

... provolone cheese.

No, seriously that's all I can come up with. And its not like I really love provolone cheese. I mean, don't get me wrong, as far as cheeses go, it ranks right up there with mozzarella and brie--certainly far outperforms the biting displeasure of bleu cheese crumbles, whose appeal frankly baffles me. But let's face it, I could live without provolone cheese. It would be rough, but I could do it.

Although I cannot conceivably envision a world in which said dairy product does not exist. Unless all of the cows get sick with an epidemic of bovine flu thereby rendering their milk disease-ridden and unsuitable for our provolone processing needs. In which case...

Honey Nut Cheerios as well, for I will have no milk to counterpart.

I guess you just never really know what you will miss until it is no longer with you. To bust out the total cliche and not sound like debbie downer with my lack of things to appreciate in the year 2009.



Today I became convinced for probably the 82nd time in my life that I was actually dying. Don't worry friends, I feel a lot better now, but I had totally persuaded myself to think that I had some rare congenital heart disease or a brain tumor or viral infection of some sort that would finally do me in.

I'm still alive. For those still wondering.

Who knows why my brain functions how it does. Or any brain for that matter.

How do we really know that our entire being is not the product of someone's schitzophrenic delusion? Perhaps I am merely just the voice in some crazy lady's head. Just something to chew on.

What is a color.

Do babies cry because they are bored?

If you strapped a cat to a buttered piece of bread would it land on its feet or the buttered side of the bread. Why does bread always land buttered side up?!

If you know the outcome of a story does that make it less enjoyable? We know that eventually Little Foot and Sarah are going to die, their progeny will die and their species become extinct. Yet it still remains an uplifting children's tale of hope and achieving your dreams. Even though in the end, we are all dead. I guess what I am trying to say is that there is something beautiful in the way we die.

If you were born with three eyes would it make you a better painter?

If prisoners were allowed to date... do you think they would use eharmony?

Would you rather be an anxious agoraphobic afraid to do anything out of your comfort zone, or an ugly unicorn with a bad bedside manner.

On growing up: it happens.

I used to be a baby. Now I am only young. Tomorrow I will be mature. And then I will be thirty.

I feel like thirty is about the time when things start to make sense. Correct me if I am wrong, I have not now nor have I ever been in my thirties. But I do have a good feeling about that age.

How annoying would it have been to live in an era before the advent of tampons.

On spirituality: when people describe themselves as a particular faith -- Catholic, Hindi, Jewish-- do they say it these days as if they were describing a specific set of ideals or merely as one would describe their heritage--Irish, Indian, Uzbekistanian etc.

I am afraid of cancer.

Also afraid of hyenas.

When will they make a sequel to snakes on a plane...snakes on a hot air balloon has some potential methinks.


If I were president I would make a stimulus package that funded solely(pun unintended) shoe shopping.

And then create National Limerick Day, wherein citizens could only speak in limericks.


I like the idea of snickers, hot fudge, licorice sushi. Oreo sashimi?

Plagiarism = theft of intellectual property. To whom does intellect belong? Are any thoughts truly original?

If there was no daytime, would we be as scared to walk to our car in an abandoned parking garage?

If time flies, where does it go? Is there a time port where it must dock and deplane?