Delicious Troubles

Dear Diary,

I'm sorry that I've not written in you for a while now. With the wedding, school, and Mic going through his bout of depression after Michael Phelps' record was beat, I've been swamped. I hope you understand. I'm sure that you have had plenty of stuff happen to you since I last wrote in you, but enough about you; let's hear about me.

For the past three months, I've been receiving strange notes in my mailbox, written on unicorn stationary. They are very nice notes, and written in a very nice script. They highlight some of my many abilities of leading groups. I thought that I would share some with you:

Unlike the creature (unicorn) depicted on this note, your Large Group running skills are far from mythological.

Once upon a time, there lived an awesome Largo Grup (LG) coordinator. Her name was Melizabeth. One day, the Ivy Cloverseer, Dieter, boasted a Mitrosoft Scarepoint massage reading that LG would be smelled this week in the Prawn Room and that the Hot Topic (TM) would be X-ray VISION. But Mel, in a moment of almost clarity, declared, "Dieter, you will speak actually on Thyme Plannagement in the Smite Chapel." And LG was saved. And everybody breathed a collective sigh of 'roast beef'! LOL

I could go on, but why would I want to ruin a good thing?

Anyway, I want to tell you about this new show I found on the Paula Deen eating channel: the Next Chef of Iron. It's really an awesome show that takes place in Alton Brown's foyer, where these "top-notch" chefs compete to make Alton Brown dinner. There's this oober-creepy guy on there who has eyes like a crazy man and he thinks that he can cook, when he tries to make ice cream for an Indian breakfast entree. Yeah right.

It really is sad. He tries to use words, but he gets frustrated and turns to cooking in order to express himself. I really do wish that he'd return to trying to use words. He has no talent, and thinks that the coffee maker is an ice cream maker. He claims that it's broken, but Alton Brown seemed to enjoy his pistachio cream coffee that came out of it. Who knew? Not him obviously.

That's enough for now. I'll talk to you later. Diary, I forbid you from convincing Alton to take this creepo on as his head chef.
-Liz :)

Gasoline Isn't All That Bad

Dear Diary,

Have you heard about the 14 year-old who drinks gasoline? The story is linked here from the Shanghai Daily. Apparently this kid has been drinking gasoline for five years to be like his heroes from the Transformers cartoon series and movies. He has been stealing gasoline and lighter fluid from his parents for years now, and the continual drinking and huffing has caused him to have some mental and physical problems. I have three points to make about this, so I hope your listening, Mic.

1. The boy was drinking leaded gasoline. I thought that stuff was gone! Unleaded gasoline is what Transformers drink anyways. I've been drinking unleaded gasoline for about 15 years now, usually a glass at dinner, and nothing has happened to me so far. I'm just your normal, average, bubbly, giddy, giggly, Disney-obsessed, young woman.
2. The boy stole gasoline. Come on! If you're going to start a habit, you need to have a job to support it. Since gasoline prices have gone down here in the Midwest, it's a lot cheaper to drink a glass a day. But I had to get a job with the hotline to support my addiction to Monster energy drinks. How else do you think I stay so chipper throughout the day and when I have to whip the tutors at the hotline into submission. Service with a smile!
3. Lastly, the article describes that the new Transformers movie has broken records in China, ones held previously by Titanic. Now we all know how much I love that movie, but I will digress. Transformers, on the other hand, sucks to no end! How in the world can more people see that garbage than Titanic? Maybe this kid saw the Transformers movie so many times that he himself broke the record. That's how I did it with Titanic. I wasn't seen or heard from for two weeks straight!

I hope this helps you out, Diary. You've been smelling like turpentine for the past few days. Either you've picked up a habit, or Mic is trying to destroy you. He read my diary; he was the only one, and he liked it. Oh well. Just be sure to support your habit with a job, otherwise you're just a bad person, and that means you too, Diary.
-Liz <:-)

Christmas Card Idea!

Dear Diary,

I was recently browsing the internet for cute ideas for family portraits this year, and I think I discovered the mother load! I am going to dress up my boys, Mic, and myself as Christmas presents! It'll be so much fun! I can't wait to see people's faces when they get their Christmas cards this year. Here's an example of what I'm thinking of:

(Source: AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com)

 

Isn't it just a wonderful idea? Maybe we can send out cards of IV people like this. Oh, I just know that recipients would absolutely love them! And then they'd say, "Well, that's Rose-Hulman for you." I think I'm going to go to Hobby Lobby now before the Christmas decorations rush starts!

Diary, you guard the fort, so no one will steal my idea.
-Liz :-D

Cubee Craft...More Like Cutie Craft!

Dear Diary,
I think I might have found the cutest craft idea ever! They're modular, cubist characters from a lot of pop culture references. For instance, I saw some Cartoon Network references, Billy Mays, and even some anime (yecht!). My favorite, though, has to be Longcat, as pictured below.

Now diary, in case you don't know, Longcat is very long, and shouldn't be confused with his arch nemesis, Tacgnol. Just do a search for it to find out more. Maybe you'll find that huge picture that would take like 30 pages to print, scaled down! The beauty of this Cubee Longcat is that for the midsection, you can put in as many blocks as you want to print. You can make him look like a regular cat, or as long as you want him to be. I want to make this one at least three stories tall! I'm not paying for the paper, right? There you go. The website is CubeeCraft.com, with Longcat residing here.

Try it for yourself, Diary, and we'll compare who has the steadier hand at cutting! I'm at first-grade level. What are you, preschool? Oooh!

-Liz :D

Fireworks Are Dangerous!

Dear Diary,

I've decided I hate fireworks. They're loud, noisy, and annoying. Why the sudden change of heart? Let me indulge you for a little bit.

Mic and I were enjoying a nice, relaxing evening out in the back yard, where the Sizzlin' Liz used to be tied down, under the shelter of the big oak tree. The birds were singing, the crickets were chirping, and the cats purring like small trolling boat motors. And then there was a loud POP! Quickly after followed another POP! And more and more and more followed in quick succession. Mic thought it was the government coming to get him again. Apparently they have found use for his rock-hard abs from the Iron Gym. Apparently Mic thinks I'm a dupe for believing him.

I quickly donned my artillery hat, spread some grease on my face to camouflage myself, and ducked into the bushes on the side of the house. This wasn't military. These were the neighborhood kids. And I was ready for them. There were two of them: about ten years each. They had found an old pipe and were using it to launch bottle rockets at us. Luckily I had just finished making a bottle rocket crossbow, securely hidden in the bushes. Within seconds I was loaded and fired my first shot into the fatter of the two porkers, exploding right in front of him. Oh how he squealed like a piggy! I couldn't give away my location, because they would report me, even though they started this. I waited until they were gone for at least five minutes, long enough to make sure they weren't bringing more target practice reinforcements.

I pulled Mic from his hiding spot under the porch and gave him a Mic Biscuit (patent pending). Just after he calmed down, a police officer strolled into the back yard, the fat piglets trailing behind him. In short, the officer made me apologize to the grotesque creature, and give up my crossbow, but he didn't catch glimpse of me sticking my tongue out at the little twerp.

After all was said and done, the donut-munching officer left with his shadow, I had to give Mic another Biscuit to calm him down. As I was fuming, I noticed a brick on the ground. I hadn't realized how scared I was at the time, but there you have it. It serves as a reminder that I shouldn't use fireworks from now on. I'll just use rocks instead on those lovely neighborhood children, next time.

You can wipe off your war paint now, Diary, it's all over.
-Liz >:-/

Every Freaking Day

Dear Diary,

I'm not going to lie to you. When I heard the news the other day that my two favorite medications, Vicodin and Percocet, are being banned for having an innocent little chemical called acetaminophen, I started to get a headache. And the headache got worse and worse. My doctors claim that its just a result from being up from that coma. I know that its because I can't have my go-go fuel. Did you honestly think that I was this chipper and bubbly all the time? Eegad, no! If I don't get my juice in the morning, mid-morning with second breakfast, lunch, midday snack, four o'clock pick-me-upper, supper, dinner, and midnight fourth meal, I can't function. I mean, even my supplier is in jail now, because he borrowed an experimental military aircraft. What am I going to do now? I need those every freaking day!

The OBC (Obama Broadcasting Network) suggests that there are alternatives, but I don't like to touch the stuff on the streets. I like my supplements in those cute little bottles with the caps that I have trouble getting off. Speaking of which, Mic always helped me out with those. I'm sure I could get one of my roommates to help me out, if she knows what's good for her. Until then, I suppose I could watch some of those weird anime shows referred to only by letters; they virtually have the same effect.

You don't happen to have a Benjamin on you, do you, Diary?

-Liz :3

Near Death Experience

Dear Diary,

As I was rushing to get home before Mic did, so I could make him some yummy powdered doughnut pancake surprise, my airplane (the Sizzlin' Liz) became unresponsive. Apparently you aren't supposed to try to make pizza with a airplane; the cheese clogged my pitot tubes on the wings! To make a long story short, I've been in a coma for the past three months.

I wasn't flying when the Liz got angry, but just standing in the driveway with my hand testing just to see how hot it actually was before putting a pizza on it, and all of the sudden it flat out told me that Rachel Ray is perhaps the most annoying chef in the world. That got my blood boiling! We got to arguing and before I knew it the Liz had fired a homing laser at me, knocking me into a coma.

Now I understand the Sizzlin' Liz was an experimental aircraft stolen from the military, by Mic of all people! The judge said that he might get out in twenty years if he promises to use the SRC instead of the Iron Gym. I hope he complies. All this trouble for an airplane/pizza stone! See if I ever accept anything government again. You heard me Obama!

Anyway, the Liz was taken back into its government hiding, but before it was out of earshot it started dogging the Little Mermaid. It took fourteen intelligence agents to take me down. Prolonged exposure to that airplane made me irritable, but maybe some Tuscan Whole Milk will calm me down.

Don't you start talking bad about my Food Network or Disney films. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

-Liz :-|