these are a few of my favorite things

You know it's a good day when you break through to the next color layer of your Post-it pad. I'm a sucker for Post-its. Post-its and tupperware and band-aids. Just last week I bought a new piece of tupperware- clear plastic with a pale green lid. I'm not yet sure why I bought it- heaven knows I don't need it. It was sitting by itself in the baggie section, apparently left behind in favor of the Ziploc version (which, by the way, I also endorse), and I couldn't help but give it a home. It's now sitting empty on top of my cabinets, but I'll put something in it sometime: cookies, perhaps, or a 7-layer dip. I debated relegating it to school supplies, but I figure the pale green lid will go especially well with guacamole. Or would that be 8-layer dip? Beans, tomatoes, cheese, black olives, salsa, sour cream, guac... 7 after all- give or take the sour cream, take or take the olives (though, yes, I've lost that argument before). As for band-aids, there's no better way to make the best of a bad situation; slap one on and you feel better instantly. You can't help it. And Post-its? Post-its will be around long after people believe themselves "paperless." Yes, these are a few of my favorite things: Post-its and tupperware and band-aids. And olives.

selected pics

Katie's Graduation: me, my sister, and our bearded brothersCattle Branding in Idaho: me, the spanies, and Uncle Dale

"Family Picture": me, my parents, and the spanies at home

here i am

You may or may not have noticed that Wendy's World was going by the wayside there for a while. More and more friends have been writing blogs lately, however, and a few of their links to my page have embarassed/inspired me into get it back in gear.

Before I return to my regular ranting, raving, and rambling, I thought I'd bring you up-to-date on what I might have written about in March, April, May, and 2/3 of June had I not been busy can-opener shopping:

• I got a new pair of glasses (same frame, worse prescription).
• My vball team got runner-up in our city league vball championship. yeah, first losers.
• It snowed (like crazy) on Easter.
• My cellphone died after I dropped it in the sink.
• My cellphone came miraculously back to life two weeks later.
• I got an unexpected- though not undeserved- bonus!
• One of my good Spanie friends moved back to Spain.
• Some of my since-gone Spanie friends came back to visit.
• We got kicked out of our apartment (semi-illegal sublet).
• We were allowed to stay in our apartment after all (still not sure why).
• I finally got a bed! (of sorts)
• My older brother bought a house (nice contrast here).
• Five of my Spanish coworkers came with me on a cattle-branding trip to Idaho.*
• My little sis graduated from Linfield with degrees in Art and Business (yeah Kaht!)*
• B20 apt mate and good friend Kristy Paredes got married last weekend, providing an excellent excuse for a much-needed CA getaway with long-lost friends.

* pics coming soon

cans closed

If you're in the market for a can opener, do not (I repeat: do not) invest in the $1 can opener from your local Walgreens. Tempting though it may be, I assure you it is not worth a dollar, nor any fraction thereof.

"But I don't need a fancy can opener," you protest.
Fair enough, but let's assume you'd like a can opener that opens cans. Walgreens' $1 edition would be a great choice if you're hoping for the type of can opener that simply clamps, but if you're thinking more along the lines of a can opener that cuts- you best take your dollar elsewhere.

"But I hardly ever eat canned food," you say.
I see where you're coming from, but BACKFIRE!, my friends. Canned food is desperation food- food you resort to when there's nothing else, or when you're sick and just need soup. These are not the times to be messing around with a can-mauling wannabe. Will you eventually get your cans open? yeah, as time and time again you find yourself cursing the can and trying to figure out the "trick." There is no trick; pay the $5.49.

a slightly later letter

On Monday I sent off a letter
Addressed to my good friend KT,
But Tuesday I opened my mailbox
And found it there, waiting for me.

"RETURNED FOR ADDRESS," said the red stamp
And, sadly, the red stamp was right,
Her name was there, written quite clearly
But an address was nowhere in sight.

I knew that the mailman was rolling his eyes
When he saw my poor, ill-addressed letter;
The fact a "RETURNED FOR ADDRESS" stamp exists
Has not made me feel that much better.

So I added a line to the "Dumb Things I've Done"
And re-sent the letter today,
Katie, you'll soon get your letter!
It's just on a three-day delay :)

danger shoes, adieu

I threw out my danger shoes today. By "danger shoes" I mean the shoes I fell down in four times. Ah, but I didn't just fall down in those shoes, I fell down because of those shoes. Danger shoes.

They look innocent enough. No heel, decent traction. Decent traction, that is, until you wear through it. At that point, you reach the plastic o' death, and it's literally downhill from there. Even then, the plastic is deceiving. I'd only worn through the outside corner of each heel- as is my custom- and walked without a worry so long as I didn't place all my weight on that 1/2 inch of slick. Unfortunately, there comes a time (or four) in every walker's journey when a step is indeed dependent upon that back 1/2 inch.

I'd given my danger shoes the benefit of the doubt for a long time, but as the heels wore through and the plastic peeked through, I knew the time was drawing near. After tonight's final skid, slide, and two-hands-down, I decided it was time to get my danger shoes off the streets and into a dumpster where they belong. May they rest in peace.

last known photo

toast post

The obvious topic options for my first post in over a month would logically include my (excellent) Christmas vacation or my (lack of a) New Years resolution, but tonight I've something else on my mind.

I don't like toast.

"Who doesn't like toast?!"

Me.

Seriously, though, does anyone? Really? I mean, like it? Choose it? Eat it? Apparently so, or they wouldn't give it to you with every breakfast. "Would you like white or wheat toast?" Neither. How did this happen? Can't you see I'm eating pancakes?

Toast alongside eggs or an omelet makes a little more sense- "part of this complete breakfast" and all- but what interest have I in eating "bread that has been browned by exposure to dry heat?"

I'm not against all forms of toast. Do I enjoy french toast? Absolutely. Cinnamon toast? Sure. A toasted sandwich? By all means. But toast? Plain toast? Toast?