as i mentioned in my last post, i lack a common element most humans and, well, vertebrates in general, share: blood. in its place runs sweet, sweet liquid helium*, which makes me very popular at beach parties on the sun**.
the unfortunate side effect of this condition is that my time spent on earth, with its normal temperatures, usually renders my extremities red and black with tepidity-bite, which makes for a sad, cold, leprous panda.
seriously, though, i get cold really easily, and it makes me physically uncomfortable and unhappy. so when i do have the foresight to actually add a couple extra layers before... anything, i'm always amazed at how much happier i am based on a few degrees. in fact, i have terrible trouble sleeping when my feet, specifically, aren't warm. i will toss and turn all. freaking. night. if those buggers aren't cradled snugly in fluffy cotton or chenille sheathes. and driving first thing in the morning, before my engine's warmed up and i have a nice draft blowing directly on my shoes? yeah, fuck that. i am all about slipper socks and a heating pad. word.
*Helium is the most difficult of all gases to liquefy and is impossible to solidify at atmospheric pressure. These properties make liquid helium extremely useful as a refrigerant and for experimental work in producing and measuring temperatures close to absolute zero. Liquid helium can be cooled almost to absolute zero at normal pressure by rapid removal of the vapor above the liquid. At a temperature slightly above absolute zero, it is transformed into helium II, also called superfluid helium, a liquid with unique physical properties. It has no freezing point, and its viscosity is apparently zero; it passes readily through minute cracks and pores and will even creep up the sides and over the lip of a container. Helium-3, the lighter helium isotope of mass 3, which has an even lower boiling point than ordinary helium, exhibits markedly different properties when liquefied. See Superfluidity.
**you didn't know the sun was known for its excellent beaches? god you're behind. READ A BOOK.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Sunday, February 12, 2012
+100 things that make me happy+ #20: cinnamon
i don't think i need to go too far into this one. find me a person who doesn't like cinnamon--besides some poor, sad, god-forsaken soul that somehow happens to be allergic to it*--and i'll show you the true terrorists. because these are the heartless, merciless bastards we need to fear.
think of all the things cinnamon goes into. seriously, take a minute, i'll wait for you. and whilst waiting, i'll make a list, and then we can compare it and what you come up with, and giggle, and then go eat all the things on the list.
- cinnamon buns (they have cinnamon IN THE NAME)
- snickerdoodles
- mexican hot chocolate
- bread pudding
- banana bread
- oatmeal
- lattes (sprinkled gaily and liberally)
- oatmeal cookies (obviously in a different class than plain oatmeal, since, you know, you have to bake them)
- streusel topping (the crumbly joy and wonder that tops coffee cake. which reminds me...)
- coffee cake
i think that's a good start for a list. and that's just edible things. that doesn't include sexy-time lotions, creams, shampoos, plumping lip glosses, deodorizing sprays, glade** plug-ins, and just sprinkling it directly into your carpet for the hell of it.
i also define the scent of cinnamon as the smell of warm. you smell it and you just feel every nerve ending blossoming to attention, and heat. such things are of great importance to me, because i have liquid nitrogen flowing in my veins instead of blood, and am therefore always a nice, chilled -8°F****.
i have yet to find a recipe that can't be improved by the addition of cinnamon. cookies? duh. cake? dur-hoy. whipped cream? no-brainer. guacamole? you bet your sweet bippy*****. chicken? please stop insulting me, i have done nothing to deserve it. cinnamon, however, by existing, has done everything to deserve all the praise and worship in the world. therefore, i hereby pronounce my ever-lasting devotion to the church of our lord cinnamon.
think about my god next time you chomp down on a stale eucharist. yeah, that's what i thought.
*and even they wouldn't really count, since i'm sure they'd love it if they could have it, and are therefore even more poor and sad and god-forsaken. why you gotta hate, creator?
**not a shameless plug, just the first company that came to mind. i make no money here.***
***unless you wanna give me some. that'd be sweet.
****i'm great at summer barbeques.
*****what even IS that?
think of all the things cinnamon goes into. seriously, take a minute, i'll wait for you. and whilst waiting, i'll make a list, and then we can compare it and what you come up with, and giggle, and then go eat all the things on the list.
- cinnamon buns (they have cinnamon IN THE NAME)
- snickerdoodles
- mexican hot chocolate
- bread pudding
- banana bread
- oatmeal
- lattes (sprinkled gaily and liberally)
- oatmeal cookies (obviously in a different class than plain oatmeal, since, you know, you have to bake them)
- streusel topping (the crumbly joy and wonder that tops coffee cake. which reminds me...)
- coffee cake
i think that's a good start for a list. and that's just edible things. that doesn't include sexy-time lotions, creams, shampoos, plumping lip glosses, deodorizing sprays, glade** plug-ins, and just sprinkling it directly into your carpet for the hell of it.
i also define the scent of cinnamon as the smell of warm. you smell it and you just feel every nerve ending blossoming to attention, and heat. such things are of great importance to me, because i have liquid nitrogen flowing in my veins instead of blood, and am therefore always a nice, chilled -8°F****.
i have yet to find a recipe that can't be improved by the addition of cinnamon. cookies? duh. cake? dur-hoy. whipped cream? no-brainer. guacamole? you bet your sweet bippy*****. chicken? please stop insulting me, i have done nothing to deserve it. cinnamon, however, by existing, has done everything to deserve all the praise and worship in the world. therefore, i hereby pronounce my ever-lasting devotion to the church of our lord cinnamon.
think about my god next time you chomp down on a stale eucharist. yeah, that's what i thought.
*and even they wouldn't really count, since i'm sure they'd love it if they could have it, and are therefore even more poor and sad and god-forsaken. why you gotta hate, creator?
**not a shameless plug, just the first company that came to mind. i make no money here.***
***unless you wanna give me some. that'd be sweet.
****i'm great at summer barbeques.
*****what even IS that?
+100 things that make me happy+ #19: when my car starts in the morning/afternoon/evening/ever
#19's place on this list is a bit tricky, seeing as how it's more a bittersweet pleasure/relief rather than something that truly makes me happy. what would make me really happy is having a car where starting up wasn't even an issue. but THAT'S NOT MY LIFE, so, yes.
it's not even my car. it's my father's car, a 1997 dark green GMC jimmy SUV*. it's a fairly amazing car. and by amazing, i mean it's amazing how the aesthetic components are absolute shit but the inside seems to run on kitten dreams and unicorn glitter as opposed to water and oil.
as of now, the following are broken:
- both rear view mirrors (the driver's side fell off whilst i was driving; i clipped the passenger side trying to maneuver into the bitch spot at my old work).
- the driver's side visor (the mirror/lights sort of fell off. they're held in with duct tape now, kind of) and the passenger side visor (the cover fell off, and has to be replaced each time it's used or the lights won't turn off and the battery will run down).
- the passenger window.
- the gas gauge.
- the air conditioning.
- the spring in the driver's side door, that keeps the door open instead of slamming shut on your hand when you're already pissed off because you ran out of gas on the highway because the gas gauge doesn't work.
- one of the cigarette lighters (not that i care, since i don't smoke and there are two more located directly beneath it, but i'm trying to be thorough). though it's only fair to mention that it's broken because there's a piece of AC adapter stuck in it.
why am i happy again?
oh, right, because it still manages to start every day. this is of especial importance to me because i live near the top of a mountain with no public transit services, where pizza delivery fears to tread and bicycles are only for the super bad-asses who actually think neon lycra is acceptable dinner attire. my options, if i were car-less, would consist of:
a. walking... 17 miles. 27.36 kilometers******. 1,077,120 inches. ok, inches will always suck unless you're a squirrel, but still. you get what i'm saying.
b. the aforementioned bicycling. the only neon i own is a hot pink sweatshirt with engrish splattered all over it like a fine béchamel sauce*******(********).
c. making friends in my area and constantly hitching rides. HA. YEAH. YEAH, THAT'S HAPPENING. yeah. i'll get right on that. that's a post all on its own right there.
so yes, while, in more normal situations, #19 might seem like a crappy thing to be happy about it, the reality is that i have a vehicle that, currently, gets me from point a to point b with a minimal amount of fuss*********.
*and yes, it was used. we needed a vehicle large enough to move around the guns.**
**that makes it sound a little too bad ass, like we bury bodies in the forest or something. it was more like archery equipment.***
***though killing someone with a bow is rather impressive.****
****a recurve or long bow, that is. killing someone with a compound bow is like having a person walk up to you, take your hand, wrap it around the knife, then make you stab them a few times until they're dead.*****
*****i use a compound. :(
******do you say KEE-low-mee-turs or kee-LOM-eh-turs? i'm on the first-syllable-stress front, because i know no one who says mee-LIM-eh-turs or de-CAM-eh-turs. and if i did, i would punch them.
*******you like that? i thought it was a classy touch.
********i love asterisks. but i think it might be time to stop now.
*********by minimal, i mean the occasional running out of gas and having to call people to help me. yeah, #19 basically sucks. oh well.
it's not even my car. it's my father's car, a 1997 dark green GMC jimmy SUV*. it's a fairly amazing car. and by amazing, i mean it's amazing how the aesthetic components are absolute shit but the inside seems to run on kitten dreams and unicorn glitter as opposed to water and oil.
as of now, the following are broken:
- both rear view mirrors (the driver's side fell off whilst i was driving; i clipped the passenger side trying to maneuver into the bitch spot at my old work).
- the driver's side visor (the mirror/lights sort of fell off. they're held in with duct tape now, kind of) and the passenger side visor (the cover fell off, and has to be replaced each time it's used or the lights won't turn off and the battery will run down).
- the passenger window.
- the gas gauge.
- the air conditioning.
- the spring in the driver's side door, that keeps the door open instead of slamming shut on your hand when you're already pissed off because you ran out of gas on the highway because the gas gauge doesn't work.
- one of the cigarette lighters (not that i care, since i don't smoke and there are two more located directly beneath it, but i'm trying to be thorough). though it's only fair to mention that it's broken because there's a piece of AC adapter stuck in it.
why am i happy again?
oh, right, because it still manages to start every day. this is of especial importance to me because i live near the top of a mountain with no public transit services, where pizza delivery fears to tread and bicycles are only for the super bad-asses who actually think neon lycra is acceptable dinner attire. my options, if i were car-less, would consist of:
a. walking... 17 miles. 27.36 kilometers******. 1,077,120 inches. ok, inches will always suck unless you're a squirrel, but still. you get what i'm saying.
b. the aforementioned bicycling. the only neon i own is a hot pink sweatshirt with engrish splattered all over it like a fine béchamel sauce*******(********).
c. making friends in my area and constantly hitching rides. HA. YEAH. YEAH, THAT'S HAPPENING. yeah. i'll get right on that. that's a post all on its own right there.
so yes, while, in more normal situations, #19 might seem like a crappy thing to be happy about it, the reality is that i have a vehicle that, currently, gets me from point a to point b with a minimal amount of fuss*********.
*and yes, it was used. we needed a vehicle large enough to move around the guns.**
**that makes it sound a little too bad ass, like we bury bodies in the forest or something. it was more like archery equipment.***
***though killing someone with a bow is rather impressive.****
****a recurve or long bow, that is. killing someone with a compound bow is like having a person walk up to you, take your hand, wrap it around the knife, then make you stab them a few times until they're dead.*****
*****i use a compound. :(
******do you say KEE-low-mee-turs or kee-LOM-eh-turs? i'm on the first-syllable-stress front, because i know no one who says mee-LIM-eh-turs or de-CAM-eh-turs. and if i did, i would punch them.
*******you like that? i thought it was a classy touch.
********i love asterisks. but i think it might be time to stop now.
*********by minimal, i mean the occasional running out of gas and having to call people to help me. yeah, #19 basically sucks. oh well.
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