Water Lily or My Face

Water Lily or My Face
Originally uploaded by SharonRey

This is a picture I took of myself. I'm so beautiful that through the lens of the camera I actually look like a purple water lily.

Oooor, this is a photo of a purple water lily I took this weekend. Sometimes it's so hard to tell.

Snails Are So Sleepy

With temporarily not having internet access at my humble abode, I have neglected my dusty blog and you fine folks for much too long. Just know that you are all in my prayers, my thoughts, and my diary until I can produce a proper update.

Please enjoy these few facts to appease you for the time being written by some jerk nerd.

• Some breeds of chickens lay colored eggs.
• A microwaved baseball will fly farther than a frozen baseball.
• Ancient Romans at one time used human urine as an ingredient in their toothpaste.
• Linen is actually stronger when wet.
• Tigers also have striped skin.
• Stilts were invented by French sheperds who needed a way to get around in wet marshes.
• Catgut comes from sheep not cats.
• One quarter of the human brain is used to control the eyes.
• Windmills always turn counter clockwise, except in Ireland.
• Minnows have teeth in their throat.
  
• Buttermilk contains no butter.
• Radio code "Wilco" is short for Will Comply.
• Rats can tell the difference between two human languages.
• A snail can sleep for three years.
• Half Puerto Rican women are the most attractive women in the world.

...Okay the last one I made up, but it doesn't make it false.

Eeeeeeeuuurpp!

I just accidentally burped in unison with a cocaine and alcohol addict on TV.

And now, although I have never even seen cocaine and I have no addiction to alcohol or any addiction for that matter (besides my TGIF lunchbox addiction---not that I have lots of lunchboxes--I'm just super addicted to a certain one ***shout out to Perfect Strangers' Balki Bartokomous!!!*** ), I feel like I'm just as disgusting as the addict who just vomited into a trash can in the basement.

Storm

I took this picture tonight right as an intense storm approached and just as that grey cloud was swallowing the sky.



Those clouds moved from the right of the blue-lit building to where it is in the photo in about 15 seconds--or enough time for me scratch my ass while thinking about the difference between "robbing a cradle" and cradling a robber. I've done both and was wondering are those both considered good things or bad things? I mean, robbing a cradle references dating someone much younger--like a Cougar. Which is just fine as long as they're of legal age, I guess. And then cradling a robber could be really good, cause why is someone robbing you in the first place? They obviously are having a bad day and need some crad---OH SHIT! THAT CLOUD IS GOING TO KILL ME!

I ran inside and crawled under my bed where I have been for the last six months, only surviving off of a pop tart and two Peeps left over from Easter I found under here. Which obviously is a lie since that storm happened about two hours ago and 'cause nobody likes Peeps no matter how long you've been hiding under a bed.

Storm's over. Think I'll go out and see if I can seduce a too young, hot robber with my Peeps.

Deal or No Deal

I've been sick since Saturday. At first I thought it was just an overachieving hangover that just couldn't get the hint after my way-too-fun Friday night, so I just went about my business like I was one Tylenol away from tap dancing through my errands like I usually do (shuffle, ball change, step, heel click and FREEZE! ***hands cashier a 20 dollar bill with a wink***).

I left Best Buy with some crap I shouldn't have purchased (I think I bought some photo paper and a pony) and left for home. I felt awful and weak, yet was really hungry. I wondered why I crave fattening fast food when I'm sick instead of eating carrots or bark like I should.

My train of thought was broken when I noticed two people on the side of the road. It was a man and a woman outside of a used car dealership by the edge of the highway. The woman seemed to be pushing the man down and crying, and both seemed to be in much distress.

I immediately thought that she was trying to stop him from running into oncoming traffic. I don't think this would be the average person's first thought when two people are struggling outside of a used car dealership. However my friend, I'll just call J.C., (prepare for a Debbie Downer moment) ran over and killed a man who was attempting suicide several years ago. There happened to be a police officer who witnessed the man attempting to walk in traffic several times before he jumped in front of J.C.'s car. My friend, of course, freaked out and out of confusion stopped and was walking to the scene to see what he had hit. Thankfully, the police officer stopped him.

Knowing that this happened to J.C. prepared me when a man attempted to jump in front of my car about two years. I slowed down quickly once I saw him, so that if I did hit him, the worst he'd get was a strong nudge and a stern talking to. Luckily I didn't hit him, and I called the police.

Once I passed these two people, I had the noble thought to go and help them even though I felt like $@!*% or "shit" as they say in English. I drove back around to the scene and pulled into the dealership. With a closer look, I saw that they were actually fighting over a briefcase. What was in that briefcase? Money? Top secret documents? A old map to One-Eyed-Willie's treasure? I don't know. Someone with some sort of "authority" zoomed in to help before I had the chance. Was it Batman? Was it Superman? No. It was Target security on a Segway.

Damn those bi-wheeling, department store ninjas!!! They always crack the case before I have a chance to get in there. With a heavy heart, I changed out of my bullet-proof cape, radioactive leotard, and water-resistant crocs and continued on my drive home.


Love,















P.S. I'm well aware that this story was incredibly anticlimactic, but let's pretend it was awesome and move on.

Things of Note

1) I just used a CD to scratch my back. Worked.

2) I love syrup. However if I smell syrup and there's no syrup around, I hate the smell of syrup.

3) I got sushi yesterday at Kyoto's coveted 6-6:45 happy hour. A fight almost broke out when someone tried to get ahead in the line to be with his friends. There was a confrontation between the passer and the passee about whether he should pass. In the midst of it, a cute girl cut through herself and the passee didn't say anything. Girls get away with so much and I like it.

4) There are three pairs of sunglasses in my purse right now. All awesome.

5) Can I borrow 20 bucks?

6) I know which friends love me, by which ones actually read my blog. Pretty sure Chris is the only one. Hi Chris! (And you too Carlos, but, you see, I have to take into account our blog competition.)

7) When I was little, I hid behind my mother after walking into our TV room wrapped in a towel after taking a shower. I thought the Muppets on TV could see me too. Perverts.

8) Last night I won American Idol, probably.

Heroes

Last night was the first night I played poker in a long time, and, boy oh boy, is it just like riding a bicyle. I was SO good. I got great hand after great hand. Everyone was so annoyed at how great I was...IF IT WAS OPPOSITE DAY! (crowd rolls on the ground in hysterics!). Actually I was awful. We were playing tournament style and I lost two big pots to ole Sneaky Sleeves Steve (otherwise known as Troy) where he just covered my hands each time. Egads! So I resorted to dealing a "fake" hand with a different colored deck so I could feel included. And boy did my luck change! ...No it didn't. I couldn't even win at fake poker last night.

So after my huge disappointment, I got home at about 1:30am and, because I heart irony, immediately plopped onto the couch to watch the season finale of Heroes that I have DVRed. About 30 minutes into it, I noticed that my balcony door was unlocked and not shut all the way. I knew I had been on the balcony earlier that day, so I wasn't too alarmed even though I'm usually really good about locking all my doors and recognized it as my irresponsibility.

That is until I heard a thud in the other room. I immediately tensed up and pictured someone climbing up to my two story balcony and sitting in the other room waiting for me to walk in the other room so he could MURDER ME!!! I texted my friend John (like he was going to help in any way) and said:

Sharon: "Just got home and noticed I left my balcony unlocked and not shut all the way. No big deal except I just thought I heard a noise in my place! I'm sure it's nothing, right?" (yes I'm a long texter)

John: "You'll be fine"

Although you can't hear tone on a text, I heard his tone loud and clear. It was the tone of indifference. He is the same person that after attempting to call me a couple times a few weeks ago one night with no answer, told me the next day when I answered the phone, "Good you're alive. I thought you had been kidnapped. When I called and your phone went straight to voicemail, I got worried but then figured I'd just call you today." I thanked him for his swift decision to just call me later in my supposed moment of peril. You can see why he was first choice when I thought I could be in trouble.

Well after that thud there was no way you were going to catch me in the back of my place. On the couch? Sure. But in the kitchen or bedroom? ARE YOU CRAZY??

Later, that night I was brought back to reality when my friend Erik called to see how my night went. I told him how I STILL hadn't left my couch. And in his ever so delicate manner he said, "You think some burglar is in your condo and waiting for you to come to the back!? Do you think you have a NICE burglar?" I realized how stupid I was being and quickly stayed right on the couch until morning. I woke up with the cushions fallen to the floor, my feet resting on my laptop, and my cellphone and the remote snuggly piercing my back. But at least I was alive.

This reminds me of the time when I went out, drank Jager (my cryptonite), and apparently cleaned my room and changed my light bulb in my bedroom at about 3AM. I didn't remember this the next day, and when I walked into my bedroom to take a nap, I flipped the light switch expecting only the ceiling fan to turn on. When my light bulb came on too and I didn't remember changing it, I freaked out and just knew someone was in my place--probably watching me at that very moment. I grabbed a knife and returned to the couch which is what I hope a burglar would honor as base. He'd also know then that he couldn't touch me until he closed his eyes and counted to ten. And I'd be outta there! Yes, it was a great plan. I sat on the end of the couch with a knife scared to death trying to figure out what MONSTER broke into my condo and was so considerate creepy he changed my light bulb so he could see me better when he tried to kill me! Finally, I couldn't take the torture anymore and was about to escape to a friend's house that night when I remembered drinking jager the previous night.

I then realized that the only real psycho there was me.

A Dog for Sharon

I really want a dog, and I just can't stop thinking about it lately. I've wanted one for a long time, but have been feeling responsible by putting off the responsibility of owning my own pet.

Well, I already have Hampton the Fire-bellied toad, of course--But let's face it, ever since Mary Lou escaped to her death, he just hasn't been the same. I try to take him on walks, but he refuses his tiny leash. I tell him to go for a scenic drive, but his eyes just don't sparkle when he drives his mini mustang anymore. He refuses to wear any clothes whatsoever. Even when we play frisbee in the park, he just lets the frisbee land right on top of him.

Hopefully getting us a dog would lift his spirits. The romance wouldn't be there like it was with Mary Lou (slut) of course, but at least it would get him out of the terrarium once in a while.

I want to get a small dog, because I know there's no way Hampton would be able to control a larger dog if he decides to walk it himself. Also, I want a little snuggle buddy--one that I don't have to worry about smooshing, stepping on, or finding dried up like frog jerky if he leaves the terrarium. Not that I would keep the dog in the terrarium. Well, it's a nice place. There's a tiny pool and a rock wall that provides fantastic hiding places. I just think that Hampton would appreciate his own space as he continues to mourn Mary Lou.

And it doesn't have to be a full bred dog. I, myself, am not full bred. So since I'm not a hypocrite, I will insist on finding a dog that is half white and half Puerto Rican like myself.

So does anyone know where I can find a small, half white/half puerto rican dog that is frog-friendly and well hydrated? Oh and any knowledge of Adobe Photoshop would be a huge plus.

Donkey Balls

Sonogram

As I mentioned before, my friends and I are anticipating the arrival of the first in-town-baby from our group of friends. The mother just sent out the most recent sonogram. This is supposed to be the head and chest. It's crazy cause you can already see a resemblance.