Good... And Good for You

whilst purchasing a christmas eve diet coke my chevron boyfriend, who always has something to say to me no matter which incarnation of myself he thinks i am, looked me up and down and said, "you look different today." "i look different?" "ya. different." "different how?" "i don't know. different." "... different bad? " "no!" reassured the homeless man who had jumped out of the dumpster and followed me into the chevron, "not different bad, different great!" "really?" "sure!" "okay. thanks. happy holidays." and all i'm saying is that a guy who was rummaging through garbage needed to reassure me that i'm pretty. what is wrong with me?

when i was 17, my parents finally got cable. it marked a turning point in my life. goodbye public television. hello mtv. besides "daria" and "real world: seattle: the one where a girl gets lyme disease: and this other guy slaps her: but despite the ticks and the drama i was still convinced living in seattle would be awesome: did you know there's a market where they throw fish?: they just throw the fish!: through the air !: did you know this em ?" and that one dating show with jenny mcarthy and that late night show with dr. drew that i never actually watched because, let's get real here, installing cable hadn't robbed my parents of their mental abilities. there was also this game show where contestants tried to keep a straight face while comedians did mini stand up routines and if they managed not to laugh they won money. it was called, like, "don't you dare laugh" or "laugh it up" or "laugh, dangit!" and maybe it wasn...

i feel compelled to ask a favor of you. i don't particularly want to do it via blog because of the potential for tacky but i also don't want to call everyone up either because when i'm interrupted mid rant i'll probably say something like, "um, i believe i had the floor" and whoever i'm talking to will be like "what is this, a phone philibuster?" and i'll be like "i did not yield the floor for a question!" and then i'll get hung up on. so, let's get started with a confession. i hate christmas. exhale saying that felt really good. as a kid i'm sure i liked christmas because of the toys and the decorations and the lack of school, but there are some things from christmas past i think back to and cringe over. so in retrospect, i don't know that i was ever all that into the season. as an adult- an adult with a job at a holiday dependent company (there used to be a very long rant here about work but i deleted it and you...

there are many, many, yes many times when i have the distinct feeling that throughout the course of the day my mind has been removed, translated into japanese, then translated back into english and placed back in my head. like a vcr manual. and things don't quite come out right. this is why i have a very strict rule forbidding in depth conversations after 10pm because i'll inevitably say something that- in the short distance between my brain and my mouth- comes out all retranslated and then i spend the next fifteen minutes trying desperately to undo what i did which turns out to be impossible because everything starts coming out in vcr manual. "hey, kat. how are you?" "ok, i guess. work is a nightmare but there is a light at the end of the tunnel so i just need to power through for two more weeks. 仕事は悪夢だが、そこはトンネルの終わりに光のように私は権力の座にさらに2週間を通じて必要があります the work nightmare, but there's light at the end of the tunnel, i like to power through the need for two weeks....

in times of war, it's the custom to censor the letters from soldiers to their loved ones to assure sensitive information isn't revealed to the enemy. i don't know how long this has been in place but here's an example of a highly censored letter from 1917... history! now, i'm not saying i'm in a war zone. but if i were to write the traditional, family thanksgiving dialogue, i would have to censor out a lot to avoid getting phone calls from said traditional family. so i'm taking the safest road possible... happy thanksgiving!

my sister got married yesterday morning. carolyn's new sister-in-law invited my parents and me over to her house last night for a family dinner. always being the forward thinker "that kat, she always thinks one step ahead". yep. that's what they say. i bought a video camera and brought it with me to the dinner because i wanted you guys to be able to witness two families meeting for the first time. here you go. beautious.

i was going to write a poem about what my job is like this time of year but i couldn't think of anything that rhymes with "mmflkjdfhjaweoilikjdsaAAAAaaa"... also, i don't write poems. at about 8:30 last night i decided the best way to express to you what my job is like this time of year would be to take pictures of my desk while i spun around in my chair. it was fun. i'm awesome.

i was totally psyched when em tagged me to list 6 quirks. "yes! finally! something to blog about!", thought i. cuz i've got nuthin'. but seriously people, for the last six years i've done nothing BUT regale you with my quirks. my quirks, oddities, nuances, subtleties, henceforth, ditto ditto, etc, etc... and bless you for going along with it all. "what's that? you like diet coke? haha! what ho! good times!" above and beyond, really. you guys are fantastic. well, but let's be honest, you're not perfect. you've got some quirks of your own and don't even think i haven't noticed which is why, in an ever so slight change in protocol, i'm going to list my working title six favorite other people quirks. let the record show #1 spliz is incapable of saying "nauseous". it's " nauseated ". in fact, it's been so indoctrinated in me that i now say "nauseated" instead of "nauseous". i do...

crazy cousin once removed: well... obama's the president. me: yep. aunt: did you vote? me: ya. i baROCKed my vote. ccor: i voted for mccain because he was in 'nam. me: right on. ccor: not that it even matters who's president. me: why? ccor: because all the real decisions are made by an elite, secret society. me: gasp! ... the pentavirate? ccor: i don't know what they're named but i know they're calling all the shots. me: right on. ccor: not that it even matters what secret society is ruling the world. me: why? ccor: because the world's going to end in the year 2012. me: bummer. ccor: december 21*, 2012 to be exact. so, you know, what does any of it matter ? me: ... right on. the end. * actual date of the apocolypse has been changed so as not to ruin the surprise for you all.

the good news is that i'm officially moved into my grandmother's basement apartment. the bad news is that three women in one house means no closet space. it's basic math really... but the good news is that i'll eventually have the closet to myself. the bad news is i'll have a closet to myself because carolyn will be moving out. but the good news is that carolyn will be moving out because she's getting married in january. at least she says she's getting married in january. i can totally see her eloping at some point in the next few months. actually, i haven't seen her in a while... note. this whole good news/bad news way of telling things has gotten stale. i was listening to the "fiddler on the roof" soundtrack today and was kind of trying to copy the "on the one hand..." thing that tevye does, but i'm not really pulling it off. end of note. in my short, young life, i've moved about 23 billion times. moving is good for the so...

i ... ...'ve upgraded to the 44 ounce, super big gulp size of diet coke because the big gulp isn't doing it for me anymore. ... have big plans to write a detailed, life changing blog about how i spent the weekend moving into my grandmother's basement apartment and it will probably include 5 thousand pictures of ziggy my official moving helper because i know how much you guys love it when i take pictures of my dog. just imagine what my blog will become once i have kids. ... 'm reconciled to the idea that 20% of what i say is original, 10% is me quoting myself and then laughing hysterically and 70% is me quoting or requoting a movie or tv show. and then laughing hysterically. okay. so i quote "30 rock" about 5 times a day. not different quotes, the very same quote. 5 times a day. to myself. because there was this one moment in some episode months and months ago where tina fey runs to the airport to apologize to an exboyfriend before he boards his ...

dear the state of utah, what kind of sick game are you playing? ? ??? yours, kat

enter autumn exit ziggy see you next spring little buddy.

approximately 4.625 years ago a day in my life involved packaging candy, then going to school, then doing idiotic art projects for school, then designing stuff for work after school. for very little money. and i was eating peanut butter oatmeal twice a day and hanging on by a very tiny thread. whatever. you know the story. you were there. it was during this time that my zion's bank boyfriend thought i was two different people. see sometimes i'd be up in the front office at work so i'd be, you know... ahem... showered and when i saw him on these days, my bank boyfriend would be all, "what's up? how you doin'? where do you work? what do you do? are you dating anyone? right on!" and then i'd go home and eat some oatmeal and dream of pricey fresh produce. and hamburgers. but then, one day i went to the bank after spending the day in back packaging candy and while my bank boyfriend was still courteous, he was extremely professional dare i say distant. unti...

the best thing about working where i do is all the free advice i get from seasoned graphic designers. wait, did i say "graphic designers"? i meant seasoned "pains in my neck". hehe... he. just kidding. i meant seasoned "people who put candy in 10 ounce bags". i get a lot of "that's ugly." and "why are you putting those colors together? that's ugly." and "why does this santa look like it's on crack? he's ugly." and a lot of "i don't like that"s. not exactly constructive, but that's fine. go ahead and speak your piece. and then please go away. i would like to respond to one semi-valid piece of advice, "why do all your icons look so tired and sad? you should make them smile." my response is no, no i should not force my icons to smile because when i cave in and try and cater to the "smiley" demographic, i end up with this... smiley.

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once, not long ago, this one batman movie came out. uuhhhm, the end. good story, right? these little high school girls were swooning over a certain christian bale the other day and i felt very strongly that no, no they do not love christian bale. they can not love christian bale because they don't know him like i and the women (yikes) of my generation (yikes x 2) know him. they did not sing along wholeheartedly to "santa fe" on their walkman. they didn't, as an 11 year old, watch "empire of the sun" also known as two and a half hours of world war 2 prison camps and john malkovich. and they didn't spend the last hour of "little women" screaming "idiot!" every time winona rider appeared on screen. they haven't logged the field time (gibberish?). go talk to your zac efron poster, girlies. him you can have. i now know how my mother felt when i watched "the sting" and thought i was in love with robert redford. i now know how...

just keepin' it really real here at ye olde candy factory. a few weeks ago my best friend go married, and it was lovely. i've tried to blog about it maybe 7 times and each time it has quickly degenerated into a full on deluge of sap. and we can't have that because while i accept that those sticky sweet layers are there (from my head to my feet) i prefer not to put them down in writing. i will tell you that i was preoccupied the whole weekend with what i had to do next. those layers are also very much there. i was way more preoccupied than "in the moment" which isn't to say i didn't have a good time, or even that i was stressed. i wasn't. i was preoccupied. it wasn't until i was actually on the plane, in the air, headed home, waiting for my free half of a beverage that i took a deep breath and let the hugeness of the weekend hit me. that is when i looked down at my bridesmaid's bouquet and thought, "she looked so beautiful"... and bu...

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about a month ago i was talking to my future husband who was visiting from boise (and i was also plugging my ears and rocking back and forth whenever the waiters at olive garden would sing their plucky birthday song to some poor, unsuspecting customer who just wanted some free cake already! cute-cutesy birthday songs are really high up on my soul-shuddery pet peeves list. ) about how much he misses me and how pretty i am and how living in montana for 3 years was a huge mistake due to montana being the lamest state ever invented. yes, that is how the conversation went. there was more to the conversation of course, like how i am mystified as to how people who are no longer in school meet, you know, other people. i've actually brought up this topic of conversation a lot with people in the last month because i have this feeling there's an obvious answer and i'm just not that smart . during this particular conversation, splincoln brought up his recent joining of the young pr...

the teeny boppers have started school again which, let's face it, is thrilling. nine years ago i made it out of high school unscathed with less than a handful of names on my vengeance list , and as a result i don't think about high school much. until i talk with the teensy tiny teeny boppers. today i've made a point of asking them how their day was as they walk in to work and this is what i've gotten so far... "how was your day?" "fine. i just basically fell in love today, that's all." "i pretty much hate all my classes." "this kid named rocky passed the spirit stick on to me." "i wore my 'many dates' shirt today." "this guy came up and talked to me today and he was pretty cool and we were both wearing green and then my friends told me later not to like him because he's a jerk and they told me some stories about him but, like, you can't just stop being in love with someone in one day." i...

i wish i had more cause to use the word "pastoral" in my everyday life. i don't know why. i really like my life. i'm saying that outright because i don't think it comes across in my (lack of) blogs. ever. the blogging voice is an ever surly voice. if my blog had an actual voice, i imagine it would sound quite a bit like john stossel but hopefully without any implications of a mustache. i wish i had more cause to use the phrase "mustached lothario". i don't know why. look... that's what my bedroom floor looks like. nightmare. inability to hang up clothes is my worst "housekeeping" trait. this is a very dull topic, i accept that, but i feel very very passionately about how much i hate hanging up clothes. look... that is a picture of my dog. he sleeps a solid 23 hours every day. i have been sleeping a solid 9.5 hours every night. i have two alarms in my room and they are useless against me. my theory is that i have a thyroid disorder of so...

dear friends both real and imaginary, how are you? good? good. so... blogging. all right, i'm going to make a statement about blogging that i'm assuming rings true for everyone. or at least i hope rings true. which is why i shall boldly speak in second person. after a year, or maybe even a few months, of consistent blogging, your reactions to life's little situations change. everything becomes fodder for a good blog anecdote. you're quicker to laugh at yourself and roll your eyes because it's easier to see things from the omniscient story teller's point of view. and that's great. but then, down the line, you change even more. during conversations you start picking out the blog worthy lines. you go on dates looking for things to mock later. you contemplate taking a tape recorder with you to family thanksgiving dinners. and then. down the line, you're cooking dinner and you puncture your finger and blood splatters EVERYWHERE and you howl and elevate your ...

for some ungodly reason, there was a tour of the chocolate factory today. it has never happened before and in fact should never happen because tours of an actual chocolate factory are disenchanting. not an oompa loompah to be seen. no experimental products which go against the very laws of nature. and for goodness sake, why am i part of the tour? "if you look to your left you'll see katasaurus rex. her diet consists of diet coke and sarcasm..." he... just kidding. it was more like, "this is our graphic designer kat. hey kat! what are you doing?" i looked up from my computer, momentarily stopped slurping my diet coke and said, "playing scramble." that's right folks, move it along. looks like it's about time for her feeding.

at exactly 14:52 i clicked "upload", stood up in my office and announced that i was finished with 2008. and so i am. so long suckers, cuz i'm done. i'm onto 2009 now! can't wait until you all catch up with me. although by the time you get to 2009, i'll be way ahead of you. i'll be so comfortable in 2010 that i will probably be calling it "twenty-ten" and since i'm so ahead of the game, it won't even be annoying! deal with it. and merry christmas.

i didn't have to cancel my dead grandfather's milk delivery after all. the price increase was rescinded. i hate when i write a three sentence blog because i think it sounds funny and then right before i hit publish i realize there are serious clarifications to be made about how my grandfather died in 1976 and, come on, how callous a person do you think i am that i would announce a recent death in that way- wait, don't answer that. so then my whole dream of writing a short, light "blogette" goes down the drain because i'm not only in ramble mode, but in defensive mode because apparently everyone thinks i'm a jerk.

it's a well documented fact that i have scores of imaginary friends. not like, hallucinations or anything, just lots of people whom i encounter and then build an imagined relationship with. i'm a socially awkward extrovert. it's how i cope. last night, i became friends with kevin the incense king. i know of his royal lineage because it's written on the side of his car. next to his bumper sticker that says, "real men love jesus". anyways, kevin the incense king lives in my apartment complex with his 3 sons who are always running around outside torturing each other. the other day i came out of my apartment and one of the sons sat dejectedly on the stairs. ziggy took the initiative and trotted over to lick him. "you must taste good", i said in a very non-creepy way (i swear). the incense prince looked up at me and said, "i just ate some cookies." "oh, that explains it." then a second prince came over and said, "i ate bacon this ...

i don't know how it happened, but somehow i am a registered voter. i know this because i got a nice little note in the mail telling me i've got jury duty. federal jury duty. for four months. and i want to be all patriotic and excited, but instead i'm filled with dread because i would seriously be like the worst jury member of all time ever. because i'm squeamish. and i tend not to pay attention to anything that starts crossing over into jargon mode. and "12 angry men" is one of my favorite movies. stupid "rock the vote" commercials.

my chevron boyfriend is officially a u.s. citizen today. after ten years. i asked him what he was going to do to celebrate. he said, "party." ah, the american way. thanks matt, moydie, and brandon for keeping me updated on charlie the unicorn. it made me laugh. however, after seeing this , you'll have to excuse me while i bang my head repeatedly against a wall. no offense to you who are obsessed with the books. it's just not my thing. people seem to think it's my thing. because i like "buffy". but the buffy thing is not same thing as this thing which i repeat is just not my ... thing. oh! in postscript. i occasionally forget to take my cell phone with me sometimes so to those who called me last friday, sorry i missed you. i have never felt so popular as i did when i got home on friday night.

on not coming to work on saturday... "salt lake needs me out there... even more than it needs me in here tormenting lyle." on doing laundry... "how was the laundromat?" "cold." "that's to keep the clothes fresh." mostly i just wanted to post something on friday the 13th . please tell me your best quote of the day. ahem... top that! if you would be so kind.

i am a spaz. and the more taciturn a person is, the more garrulous i become. to fill the silence. as someone who errs on the side of spazziness, i sometimes wonder how the other side thinks. that look of fear and awe as i prattle on... i assume the thought behind it is, "wow. does she ever stop talking?" and the answer is no, no i don't. not until i'm interrupted or out of breath. but, you know, maybe the thought behind the look is "if she stops talking i'm going to have to speak. social awkwardness! gaah!" or "i don't feel so good... wait, i had a tomato earlier! i probably have salmonella! gaah!" there could be a multitude of reasons for the look of terror and abhorrence that have nothing to do with my conversational skills. ya, i know.

dear scramble posse, let's face it, i put more mental energy into a game of scramble than i do in an entire day of work. but i'm dealing with a slight deluge at work which is using up too much mental focus. and also too much time. i promis i will be back shortly. and when i am, believe me, you will all bow down before my scramble genius. especially you em. kisses, kat

i go back and forth on the whole "being busy" spectrum. more importantly i go back and forth on whether i like being busy. i like being active. i like being busy with a project that has an end point. confidentially, i like being busy when it makes me feel important. seriously. that's how i roll. i don't like being busy for busyness' sake. i don't like being busy with a project that i know will never come to fruition. i don't like being busy because i spent too much time commuting. and i don't like being busy on really hot, sunshiny days like today when i'm pretty sure my calling in life involves sitting in a big inflatable chair in the middle of a swimming pool. days like to day make me think i should stop and i should smell the flowers. ... he's smelling flowers. i swear.

let's get down to business. here are the best television theme songs of all time. i am of course lying. sorry to get your hopes up. actually these are simply the theme songs i could serenade you with if you were with me right now... "perfect strangers" "silver spoons" "fresh prince of bel-air" "the monkees" "friends" "charles in charge" "mad about you" "cheers" not to mention the songs i could hum... " the a-team ", "doogie howzer" , " arrested development "... be thankful we're miles and miles apart.

i'm not good at my job today. but i like totally have a good excuse... ... my job is hard . okay, ya, you're right, it's not. but it's harder than it looks. yes, i know it looks super easy but i'm saying it's a slightly harder brand of easy than it looks. geez. get off my back. the essence of my job sans payroll, catalogues, kosher research, high school history projects, is this... behold ! the candy label. an 8 inch by 2 inch rectangle waiting to be filled with ingredients and nutrition and enough cute cutesyness to make people want to spend their money on candy instead of overpriced gasoline. i've made roughly 20 bajillion candy labels through the years and i am brainfrozen and heartburnt. read on. it took me approximately 32 years to make a bunch of monster lab themed halloween labels. they mostly centered around a mad scientist who i believe spends the majority of his day walking up to things and saying, "what you talkin' 'bout, willis?...

the movie version of " mama mia " is coming out this summer and there is reason colin firth upon reason pierce brosnan why i'm looking forward to it. i wish i were in greece. not to be confused with "grease"- a different musical for a different time. this is a musical i know very little about. i've never seen it, never listened to the soundtrack, i don't even know the plot. in fact, the only thing i've ever known about it is it's pure abba. translation: i am so on board. during the commute this morning, the song "where is my mind" by the pixies came on and i thought to myself, "i would totally put this into a broadway musical." and then the drifting off part of my brain took over and the result is this... when i finally produce my big broadway hit "itunes: 99 cents + tax " it will include the following hit numbers: "where is my mind?" the pixies "last goodbye" jeff buckley "the way you make...

hey, it's me! coming to you live from... my desk. glad to not be on a plane and (if i'm being truthful) glad to not be in tennessee anymore. note: when a polygamist sect with a very similar name to your religion gets a lot of media attention, don't vacation in the bible belt. as with any experience ever there were both good and deplorable moments, but i like to think i gave it a grand ole cowboy try. i even wore cowboy boots. see? here they are. coincidentally i'm also demonstrating ballet's first position. it's very hard to do while lying (laying?) in bed. i've been so busy the last couple of days trying to get caught up on all the shows on abc.com... and nbc.com... and cbs.com... and fox.com... and with my scramble games on facebook that i haven't even had a chance to respond to my daily fanmail. i wish i there was more time in a day. and i wish even more i had a gorgeous personal assistant to respond to each email on my behalf... ... .. . but i have ...

whatup. no, that is not a question. or is it. i am not in the mood to use correct punctuation. or any punctuation besides the period. and that comma up there. frankly i am drunk with power. i could be brimming with enthusiasm and dramatic pauses and you will never know because all you are faced with is the calm poker face of the period. i wish i had that power in person. i would love to be able to contain my nervousness and excitability behind a calm veneer. and vice versa. i would love to be able to infuse enthusiasm into a less than enthusiastic situation. but no such luck because i cannot hide my mood. i have four emotions... amused confused annoyed and sleepy and it is too much effort to convince family or friends or strangers at the bus depot that the emotion on my face has just drifted and come to a halt upon my face because if it hadn't my face would have fallen asleep from boredom. so yes woman sitting next to me on an airplane my face looks annoyed because i am truly annoy...

i leave for boston tomorrow. on a jet plane. don't know when i'll... whatever, i'll be back thursday night. it's a work trip which means the last couple weeks of preparation have been dizzying, and i've no complaint about the dizzy but i've been noticing it leaking into my personal life* which i will not tolerate. firstly, my hair today is staying up in a bun without aid or apparatus. just my hair. defying gravity. furthermore, i have a tiny scratch on my finger which might be slightly infected and i have yet to go around the factory telling everyone i have hepatitis. or syphilis. and to conclude, a drifter followed me around shopko saturday and when he asked me for a light, i dutifully checked my pockets. you know, because maybe i had an emergency lighter on me and just hadn't realized it. you never know when you might have to light a candle or burn through some ropes or prevent a drifter from killing you because nobody in f-ing utah has a f-ing light for s...

i have had the good fortune to meet a man named alfred. i use the term "meet" loosely. as i've never actually spoken to him. alfred might just be the most fascinating person i've ever encountered. second only to " the black prince ". i think alfred is german. or austrian. or canadian. i don't know. but i do know that he's 137 years old. and i'm pretty sure he works down at the docks. alfred has no time for nonsense and i like to believe that when i finally get up the nerve to talk to him, he'll use the word "lollygagging". also, he carries a plastic grocery bag around with him wherever he goes. ******** VERY IMPORTANT UPDATE HENCEFORTH TO BE REFERRED TO AS V.I.U. IN THE INTEREST OF SIMPLIFICATION ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER HAVE CAUSE TO USE THE ABBREVIATION AGAIN AND THIS OVERLY COMPLICATED EXPLANATION IS WORKING AGAINST MY SIMPLIFICATION GOAL. PLUS SINCE I'M TYPING IN ALL CAPS I FEEL LIKE I'M YELLING AT YOU ACROSS THE WORLD WIDE...

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night? carolyn 2. What were you doing at 0800? hitting the snooze button 3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? driving 4. What happened to you in 2006? i don't remember 5. What was the last thing you said out loud? "the essi's can't be trusted with such an important task." 6. How many beverages did you have today? so far, just water. 7. What color is your hairbrush? black 8. What was the last thing you paid for? diet coke 9. Where were you last night? work, gateway, grandma's house. 10. What color is your front door? white. i think. 11. Where do you keep your change? where don't i keep my change. 12. What’s the weather like today? cloudy 13. What’s the best ice-cream flavor? chocolate. 14. What excites you? summer. people. 15. Do you want to cut your hair? no. 16. Are you over the age of 25? yes 17. Do you talk a lot? non stop. 18. Do you watch the O.C.? no 19. Do you know anyone named Steven? a few. 20. Do you m...

my dog is afraid of his water dish. it's pathetic. i thought he'd work through this issue and in the process become a stronger, more self aware dog. i even bought him a shirt to boost morale. if you look close enough, you can see that he's screaming on the inside . alas. months have gone by and the dare devil refuses to face his fear no matter how much i roll my eyes at him. then, the other day i saw a spider and shrieked and ran out of the room. which was sort of an epiphany. a sad, strange epiphany. we all have our phobias and no amount of opposable thumbs is going to change that. so i bought dare devil a new, small and in no way intimidating water dish. and i have never seen him so hydrated and sure of himself. he tony danza*'s that new water bowl! and i'm all for having a happy, healthy, hydrated dog... but seriously. i don't do 5am walks. *shows it "whose the boss"**. ** i really thought i could pull that off.

this morning, while i was driving to work the radio played a smashing pumpkin song, then a weezer song, then an r.e.m. song and then a nirvana song. i went to abc.com to watch the latest episode of "lost" and noticed there were episodes of "my so called life" up and ready to view. "clueless" is a brilliant, brilliant movie. i know because my sister and i rented it. it was in the "new release" section of blockbuster. so i'm just wondering which morning it was exactly that i woke up in 1995. not that i have a problem with it. i just feel like maybe the PTBs could've asked or even just warned me before they sent me swirling back in time. i mean, am i supposed to right some life altering wrong from freshman year of high school? or am i supposed to lay low and try to avoid altering the space time continuum? are there snapples in this reality? will a butterfly flapping its wings in tibet cause a hurricane in ontario? i don't even know what ...