Flip-flop weather is officially over – I am devastated. These may be the solution. These are from Payless and were massively comfortable and reasonably priced.

next up: flannel. it’s happening.

I think Steve may have finally found his sugarlumpkins and told her that my number belongs to her now, too.

I got a voicemail yesterday afternoon from a Columbus health facility intended for “Megan” (even though my message says, “Hey, this is Natalia’s phone; leave a message; kbye”). According to the message, the results are in and Megan needs to come pick up her magnesium and Lyrica, presumably for fibromyalgia.

Is this a blatant violation of HIPAA?
Should I call the number and tell them they have the wrong number and that they’ve disclosed someone else’s medical information to someone who is clearly not the patient?

I like to sit in the very last car on the PATH train. I know the exact spot on the tracks where it’ll stop and I like watching people around me scramble to get rightinfrontofthedoor while I just stand there. Owned, guys.

With the exception of weekends, it’s also usually quiet on the PATH – on the way home, people are usually so worn out that it’s almost completely silent. I dig.

Anyway, the problem with sitting in the very last car is that there is a guy who comes onto the train every day starting at about 5:30 asking for money. He forces the door open for longer than it should be, yelling, “THIS IS THE HOBOKEN TRAIN! HURRY UP! COME ON! HURRY UP! HOBOKEN HERE!” and then walks around the train shaking a McDonald’s bag while people zone out and pretend not to notice him. His speech never changes – I watched a guy mouth it along with him after he walked by last week. He’s become a sort of tepidly lovable staple on the train.

Yesterday he had some competition.

A woman carrying a large Duane Reade bag boarded the train and started verbally accosting passengers who were in her way. “YOU DON’T TOUCH ME!” she said to a man who did not touch her. She pulled out a book and started proselytizing loudly.

One rider in particular was so annoyed with the loud interruptions that she began yelling over the two…

“I’m here with the Bergen-Lafayette Homeless Shelter…”
“You must acknowledge all things you do in the name of Jesus Christ…”
“SO ANYWAY, MY WINE TASTING…“

I wonder who’ll show up tonight on the train. Maybe we can get a fun game of train-wide Mad Libs going.

My pilot light is out in my apartment. I am inclined to believe this is thanks to my roommate’s shoving an oversized fan and vacuum into our utility closet (what a lovely storage place, no?) and upsetting the natural forces of our water heater.

You always call your dad first in situations like this. “You could do it,” he said when I asked how one goes about lighting the dead light.
“I think I’d burn the apartment down,” I replied.
“It’s certainly a possibility, but cold showers are no fun and it may be worth burning the place down.”

I called our maintenance guy at about 4 and he said he’d be in this afternoon – “who’s gonna be there?” he asked. “I will,” I replied, willing to stay vigilant for the sake of hot water.

He has yet to come. Now it is 10:51, I have Googled “how to light a pilot light” several times and bought the wrong kind of matches – apparently I need the extra long ones to do it myself – while sitting in our utility closet with my laptop as Lappy and I try to figure out how I can take normal showers again.

YIKES.

Okay, Idol 2.0 . . . I went to Connecticut with the kid I babysit regularly and his mom for the show. We had a blast and I took about 2893423984 pictures because we were so close to the front.

But of course, there has to be That Girl who puts her hands up and singlehandedly ruins otherwise good photos. I think she’s related to Hair Guy (who stands in front of you and makes your camera focus on his gross, over-gelled hairdo instead of whoever is on stage).

HEY GIRL HEY!

oh cool

my favorite…the jazz hands edition


In conclusion, if you would rather keep your hands attached to the rest of your arms (lest I remove them with sheer brute force), please keep your limbs to yourself.

today is my xanga team anniversary! let’s have a party.

(click to enlarge)

saturday, matt and i went to the columbus zoo with my little bro and we partook in a goat petting excursion. please note the differences in enthusiasm between the three of us.

yesterday, i went out with my dad and my dog to let her run around a little bit. observe. we love this dog.

good dog.