About a million years ago, I was tagged by CC of Fork in the Road to write a list of weird/quirky things about me, and then later, I was tagged by DomestiGals to do the same, and I was all, um, can’t I just give you the URL of my website? But since I like these bloggers very much, I’ve come up with some additional oddities. Man, I’m so weird!

• When I feel really stressed, I whisper, “Shhhh. Shhhh. Shhhh.” It’s like the mama in me is trying to comfort the crying, snotty baby in me.

• I eat as if I survived the Potato Famine of 1845. If something tastes good, I, for the life of me, can’t eat it slow. Fellow diners stare strangely at my empty plate as they take their third bite.

• During the rare times when I’m flying down the freeway and the cars in the opposing lanes are sitting bumper to bumper, I feel a quick thrill of superiority. Then I get mad at myself for being such a mean person.

• When I’m getting ready for a night out, I “test” potential outfits by doing the “Booyah Dance” in front of a mirror. It’s this freakish quasi hip-hop move I made up. If I feel good in the outfit while doing the Booyah Dance, it’s the one.

• I’ve been saying, “What the H?” a lot lately. No, not “What the hell?” because that would actually sound normal. Like “What the The Letter H?” It’s really annoying, but I can’t stop. What the H?

CC also gave me this lovely I Heart Your Blog award, as did HBee of One Step At A Time, Jamie of Oh! How Lovely and Kyla Bea. I’m not a very touchy person, but since we’re in a virtual world, I’d like to give them each a big bear hug and a slobbery kiss on the cheek. It’s funny how a one-inch jpeg could fill me with so much glee. Thank you, ladies. I love it. It’s just my size.

The rule is that I must pass this on and I’m more than happy to do so. Drumroll, please. And the award, granted by a random website of absolutely no authority the esteemed MichelleWoo.com, goes to …

Keep Up With Me

Our Little Apartment

Love The Wang

Magpie

Charlie and Nina

And … I tag all of them to do the Weird Things Meme. Muahahaha.

My schnoz, it ain’t sophisticated. With fragrances, which I hardly wear, my dummy olfactory system would never be able to distinguish the woody aroma of cedar from rich gourmand base notes from camphorous oils. Huh? Instead, my reviews are typically condensed to “ew!” or “old lady” or “hmm, not bad.” I realized I’m just a simple kind of girl who likes simple kinds of scents. Like fruity stuff!

Fruit-scented things make me happy and require no work on the part of my nose. Which is good because me and my nose are lazy bitches. Here are three of my favorite fruity products:

Teen Spirt Antiperspirant/Deodorant in Sweet Strawberry. Yes, I do (sort of) understand that I am a grown woman and should therefore use a grownup deodorant. But this one smells so good! Like strawberry candy! The first time I applied it, I shoved Matt’s head under my shirt and said, “Oh my God, smell this.” His response: “Uhh, couldn’t I have just smelled it in the tube?”

Dude. Dude. Dude. DUDE. I didn’t even know this until I went to look for an image. Burt’s Bees Lip Gloss is being discontinued but you can buy what’s left in stock on their website. $1 each! Oh-Em-Gee. I love the raspberry flavor very much. The texture is light, not waxy like Lip Smackers.

The Body Shop’s Pink Grapefruit Body Butter. Rich and super intense, but still fruity! Love.

So back to my really hard life.

I feel like I’m in high school again, completely incapable of saying no to any opportunity presented to me, whether big or small. Those days, I remember well. Choir? Sure, I’ll join. Spanish club? Free tacos, why not? Volunteering at church? I have to. It’s for Jesus. An extra, extra credit assignment? Well, I do like credit. Back then, I hung out with the overachievers and while I scheduled like they did (bring on the resume-boosters!), I wasn’t, um, what’s that word … smart like they were. I remember feeling helplessly overwhelmed in the mess I would make for myself. My world was run by bottles of Coke, whining sessions with friends and scribbled to-do lists on my left hand. Today, things aren’t much different, except that I drink Diet.

I think the reason why I overscheduled myself this month is because I was so bored last month. The stagnant state of not doing anything to enrich my life makes me antsy and slightly depressed. I guess that’s why I’m trying to make up for it this month. And now I want to jump out the window.

But I’ll get through it, I always do, bless the angels above and the caffeine below. And then in November (birthday month!), I’ll rest and be sloth-like once again. And then in December, well … who doesn’t overschedule in December?

Go to iVillage.com. You have to do this today (Monday).

Now scroll down. Keep scrolling. A little more. Almost there. Oops, you went to far. Scroll up a bit.

Good.

Now, look to the very right under “The buzz in the blogs.” See me? If you don’t, turn off your ad blocker.

If you still can’t see it, here.

My very own face! With a link to this post. I’m famous! [Happy dance]

My friends are flakes.

Maybe not all of them, but probably a good majority of them and definitely the ones I care about most. It’s something I’ve come to accept and expect, similar to how I’ve come to accept and expect all Southwest flights to be delayed at least 45 minutes, but it doesn’t mean my blood doesn’t rise to a simmer every time I get a text a few hours before a planned meet-up that reads: “Can’t make it! [Insert emphatic excuse here, ie. The Good Student Approach —> '10,000 pages to read before tomorrow's big test,' The Family Obligation Approach —> 'My mom needs me to do something very important,' and The I Can't Even Put Effort Into An Excuse Approach —> 'I've been really, really tired.'] Sorry!!!!!!! We must hang out soon!!!!” You can’t forget the multiple exclamation points, which, of course, make everything better.

I’m not saying I myself deserve any Friend of the Year awards. I know stuff comes up. I’ve needed to use those Get Out of Plans cards, too. But sometimes I wonder: Have we become too comfortable in our friendships, assuming that we can flake time and time again without consequence? Or at this point in our lives, is friendship just not a priority anymore? And in the end, do the relationships outweigh the disappointments?

This is an embarrassingly late announcement, but I wrote about the slow demise of friendship over at the fab quarterlife hub Umm… Now what? Despite what it seems, I don’t think about this crap all the time. I’m not sitting on the porch with a banjo singing, “Lonelyyyyy, I’m so lonelyyyyy.” But it is both irritating and sad to know that many of my friendships are held together only by plans that are ultimately tentative.

My boyfriend Matt is the most reliable person I’ve ever met. His be-there, no-excuses personality seems almost out of place in our whatever-works-best-for-me generation. It’s something I admire greatly about him, yet it’s also something that can get annoying. Whenever a close friend sends us an Evite for some sort of gathering, he’s the first to reply ‘yes,’ along with some witty remark. And when he says he’ll be there, you know he’ll be there.

“Don’t you want to wait to see who else is going?” I’ll ask.

“No,” he’ll say. “Why does that matter?”

Then on the day of the event, he makes it a point to arrive exactly on time.

“Hurry up, we’re going to be late,” he’ll say, as I sit in front of the mirror, leisurely applying mascara.

“Who cares?” I’ll say. “No one ever shows up until at least an hour after something is supposed to start, anyway. I’m not ready.”

He’ll then proceed to tell me we have to go every 20 seconds.

“Gah!” I’ll yell.

It’s strange, really. To put as much effort in your social life as you would in your professional life. But when you think about it, why not? You may not get a pink slip, but you can definitely get fired as a friend. (OMG, did I just write that trash?) Reliability isn’t as sexy a characteristic as say, spunk or sense of humor, but in any relationship, it may be even more important. Oftentimes, it’s the foundation.

So quit flaking, bitches.

Life has been crazy chaotic, let me tell you. One thing that makes it a little better: funny hats.

*The following photos have been selected to (poorly) protect the identities of funny hat wearers.

Thursday
Wear A Fancy Hat To Work Day

Friday
Oktoberfest. Beer, bratwursts and funny hats. Why not?

Saturday (Today)
Burrito box hat.

Think I overscheduled myself for this month. I’m digging my face in my palm as we speak. I won’t list all my responsibilities here (trust me — they’re so not exciting to you), but I’ve rattled them off several times to my boyfriend. “And then I have to do this. Oh, and this. And I volunteered for this. And they’re making me do this.” Somehow, saying them aloud gives me credibility. It’s not bad, though. It’s actually good. These are all things I want to do, more or less. Or things that could lead to something else. Because ultimately, I want something else.

Wow, Michelle, that paragraph was extremely vague and I’m kind of upset you made me read it.

I’m sorry. Here, have a print.

Which reminds me, I have shit to do.

If you’re a parent, no matter how wonderful you are or how hard hard you try, there will be some ill-fated things you do or don’t do that your children will forever hang over your head. Like the time you headed up the Macarena as a prom chaperone. Or the time you accidentally led them into sewage drain.

In the case of my mom and dad, who otherwise did just about everything else right (look how awesome I turned out!), there are only two things I make them regret:

1) Not teaching me Chinese. (I could be taking over the world right now.)

2) NOT GETTING ME BRACES.

“But you didn’t want them, honey.” Of course I didn’t want them! This is when you use your parental powers to override the decision-making skills of a self-conscious 12-year old. Right?

While my top teeth are not too bad, my bottom teeth are rather wayward, though you can’t really tell thanks to my massive overbite. My grandmother is certain that this unfortunate smile is the sole reason I am old (26!) and unmarried.

I’ve been more or less okay with my teeth through the years, except for the fact that my mouth is perpetually open (though I don’t really know if that’s a ‘dental’ thing or a ‘retarded’ thing), but lately, with all the new technology out there, it seems that there is really no excuse for jacked-up teeth. My mom just got veneers and they look nice. She keeps looking in the mirror and smiling. Why shouldn’t everyone have perfect, beauty-pageant-ready pearly whites?

Then my sister just got Invisalign even though she already had braces when she was a kid (parents always get it right with the second child). And I’m tired of her always being better than me (another post, people), so I’m thinking that I would like Invisalign too!

I’m going to the dentist tomorrow (scurred), so I’ll ask if it’s right for me. I know that you have to take the thing out when you eat, so I wouldn’t be able snack all day like I usually do, which could be a really great thing. And it seems like it doesn’t really interfere with your adult life the way braces would. My sister went through just one workday saying, “Hi thith ith Caritha from Thathi and Thathi (Hi this is Carissa from Satchi & Satchi)” but now she talks normal. And you can’t even see them.

I shouldn’t get too excited, though. As I was researching Invisalign, this is what I found in a Google image search. WTF?

‘Twas a very good weekend, so carefree and full of snuggles, the type of weekend that makes your heart deflate a little the moment the sun starts to fade on Sunday evening. No, no, no, weekend, please don’t go, I’m not through with you yet. Stay awhile. I’ll pour you some tea, or how about some scotch? (Psss … someone, run out and get me some scotch.) But alas, it vanishes into the night, leaving us its evil replacement: Monday. Shiver. ‘Til next time, I suppose. Here are some snippets.

- Went shopping. Found this:

$29.80 at Forever 21. You could just kiss me, I know. Sometimes I think that if I wear warm clothes, the god of weather will take a look at my wardrobe and think, “Oh yeah! It’s fall! Thank you for reminding me!” and tweak the temperature accordingly. This never works, of course, and I’m often left annoyed and sweaty.

- Went to a potluck. Made my famous guacamole (okay, okay, I used the premade mix from the grocery store BUT added a ton of other good stuff — delish!) and these little heart attacks:

Some were a little burnt, as you can tell, but who cares? They were wrapped in bacon! The potluck was so much fun. We ate deliciousness, played beer pong (I was benched after missing the table repeatedly), sang karaoke and watched some girl-on-girl MMA action (disgusting, but surprisingly entertaining). Went home tired and happy.

- Went to Borders. Had every intention of checking out all your great recommendations, but was lured by the bargain table and ended up picking up The Orchid Thief by Susan Orlean (always wanted to read it, but never got to it) and Bad Monkeys by Matt Ruff (never heard of it, but seemed enticing). Also hung out in the kid’s section and fell in love with The Gift of Nothing by Patrick McDonnell. I shoved it in Matt’s face, telling him he had to read this book RIGHT THIS SECOND, then watched him intently as he flipped through the pages. “What did you think? So special, huh? Do you feel all warm and fuzzy?” I asked. “Eh,” he replied. I then went on to question my choice of boyfriends.

- Saw Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist after some rave reviews. It was not so good. I can’t stand puke (or verge of puking) scenes and there were plenty of those. I did, however, like Kat Dennings’ lipstick.

- Went to a wine tasting event. Classy.

- Ate pho twice.

- Straightened up my room. Still doesn’t feel clean.

- Ran a little.

- Re-hydrated.

- Hugged a lot.

‘Tis all. Goodbye weekend. I love you.

There’s something invigorating about October. Perhaps it’s the fact that we’ve entered the final stretch of the year and if your goals have been lagging behind reality, now is the time to rev up your little engine and bring them up to speed before the carolers start bustin’ out “Oh Holy Night.” Here’s what I’d like to do this month: sign up for a children’s book writing course, cook stuff and feed people, visit new places in L.A., start reading a real book (suggestions?), accessorize, run on the beach, “network.” But first I need to clean my room. Nothing good can happen with a messy room.