maybe maybe

Dear large, white envelope,

Pllllleeeeeease come tomorrow.

Love,

The ever-patient Tanya

i bet you won't get crunk

I take a Turbo Kick class at the gym. It's like kickboxing, except there's a little bit of a hip-hop element to it, so it definitely caters to a female audience. I always have respect for the one guy that shows up though.

Most of the routines are comprised of whatever the Top 40 songs of the day are, and in between different sets of movement, the instructor will encourage everyone to just "shake it out" or "get freaky." Most people just stand there.

In particular, Ciara's "That's Right" (featuring Lil' Jon) song came on. If you've ever heard Lil' Jon, you would know that raw, freaky quality in all of his songs. Anyway, the instructor wanted everyone to freestyle for the first 15 seconds or so before our kickboxing routine began. When most of us timid people just bounced our heads a bit, she made us do wall sits or push-ups until we would actually let loose.

Did I mention I go to this class with my mom? Yeah, that will shut down any freaky side I possess rrrrrrreal fast. The instructor made it a competition on who could get the freakiest. Guess who won? My mom. Guess who had to demonstrate with the instructor in front of the whole class? My mom.

I had no words after this. No child should be subjected to that kind of sight.

I don't care what the instructors says, I'm not "getting freak-nasty" in front of my mom. I'll take the push-ups thank you.

yeah, this just happened

DISCLAIMER: My parents are actually smart, college-educated people. I'm really hoping this was a fluke.

Scene: The Dinner Table. The conversation turns political, as it is extremely wont to do in the Milburn home.

Tonight's topic: North Korea

Dad: ...and China keeps supporting them [North Korea] down there--

Me (interrupting): Up there.

Dad: What?

Me: You keep saying "down there," but you mean to say "up there."

Dad: No, I mean down there.

Me: Dad, North Korea is connected to the northern part of China.

Mom (chiming in): No that's only Mongolia and Russia up there!

Me: Yeah, and North Korea!

Dad: You're crazy.

Me: I'll show you!

Dad (rather pompously): Go ahead!

And by the power of Google, I give you: North Korea connected to the northern part of China.

Cue: Humbling of the parents--(like a boss!)

Mom (pointing to Thailand area): I always thought North Korea was somewhere in there!

Me: *facepalm*

I just have to say that I was a freaking ninja at Ms. Ross's timed country quizzes in 7th grade social studies. It paid off my friends, oh so sweetly.

weird thing about me #43817

Sometimes I wear men's deodorant. Of course I own women's deodorant too, but most of them smell too floral-y/baby powder-y to the point of being nauseating. When this is combined with sweat, it makes for a horrid outcome: sweaty flowers--naturally. No bueno. So when I know it's a really hot day, or I'm going to work out, I use something a little stronger. (Why do deodorant companies think women don't sweat??)

That's my attempt at justifying this cross-deodorizing.

However. Because men's deodorant is more aromatic than it's female counterpart, sometimes I'll catch a whiff of some divine, manly fragrant. Then I think something irrational like, "I must find whoever just walked into the room because we should reproduce right now based on his scent alone." Or something to that effect... But I soon realize that it's myself that I'm smelling, and I am sorely disappointed for two reasons. 1.) No such male being exists at that moment, and 2.) For a brief moment, I was unintentionally an autosexual.

Yikes. I guess that means I should lay off the Old Spice.

coming out

I am a closet Ally McBeal fan. There I said it. Of course I enjoy quality comedies like 30 Rock or Modern Family or Flight of the Conchords or Psych. Of course I enjoy a good crime drama--complete with the underlying sexual tension of a male and female lead that can never be together.

But.

There will always be something about certain 90's series that I just can't resist (Dawson's Creek, anyone?). Maybe it makes me feel nostalgic. Or it could be an emotional type of masochism in order to worry myself about how old I am and how fast time is moving. I feel like yesterday I was playing "house" with Felicia dressing up and pretending we were women like Ally McBeal. Oh little did we know...

Stop this train.

Independence

Sometimes I lose faith in our legal system after verdicts like today with the Casey Anthony trial. I think it's an appropriate time for:

WTF?

Where do they find these juries?

But I feel like anti-America comments are really unbecoming. I don't agree with everything our country does, but I like to be optimistic that we can change and make things better with enough effort. I'm grateful to be a citizen of this country. I'm grateful that I can vote. I'm grateful that I can be part of a change. I'm grateful that I have rights. Maybe this is a little Pollyanna of me, but America is still a great place to live. Can we do better? Yes. But we're doing better than, say, North Korea. So things aren't as bad as they could be.

peeved

Sometimes honesty is not the best policy.

Paperwork sucks. So does waiting and wasting money.