Sometime between August of 2007 and today, the caulking of my tub got real gross. I don’t think it was a gradual progression, either. It was like puberty, where you woke up one morning and discovered underarm hair.
So naturally, the week before finals, I decided it was high time to recaulk it. Always on the look for a cheaters way out, I found caulk strips online. And though I SWEAR TO GOD it was on the Home Depot website last night when I was browsing, neither I nor the guy at Home Depot could find it on the store computer.
He asked what I was trying to caulk, and I said my tub. Confused, he asked why I didn’t just use regular caulk. DUH I’m trying to be lazy. He gave a look that read, “How DARE you sully the name of bathroom repair” and handed me a tube of Kwik Seal Plus.
And so I got to work. I removed the caulk that was adhered by someone who clearly hated his life, or at least caulking, and did it all myself!
Granted, it looks like it was sealed by a epileptic jellyfish, but I did it! If roofing doesn’t work out for me (see this post), I suppose I could make it as a handyman and hang out with illegal day laborers in front of Home Depot on the weekends too.
^ this could be me. but not.
and I’m only using this picture because I couldn’t find one of “sexy day laborer”
No one I know watches Dancing with the Stars, and that’s really unfortunate. Hear me out.
Despite the fact that she magically seemed to get worse every week, I’m really upset Kate Gosselin was voted off last night. That woman should never. dance. again. but that’s not the point. Watching Kate waltz and rumba every Tuesday has made me realize something important: life can always be worse.
I could be divorced from a dbag with EIGHT children, a heinous weave, a completely unlikable personality, and with absolutely no rhythm.
So thanks, Kate.
But seriously. I will burn every pair of dance shoes you have. Never dance again.
I received a Governor’s Scholarship from either AP tests or the CA standardized test my junior and senior year of high school and the money was placed into the GSP trust fund. I was initially awarded $3000 but it sadly depreciated to only about $650 (cry!). Since this is my last (!!!) year of school ever, I had to cash it in this year or I’d lose the money forever (the money is only good for higher education).
I submitted my application to withdraw funds about 2 months ago but haven’t heard from them since so I called them today to check the status of my money.
Turns out, they sent the check out about a month ago, attention to dean LN.
What kind of financial aid dean doesn’t notify a student that they had a pretty sizable check mailed to them?
Which makes this reason # 98374982034 why I suspect LN is using my money for crack.
You can have them. They can be lifted. You can hang them. There’s even a theory about them.
I’m talking, of course, about shingles.
Shingles have come up a lot recently in my life. Except the part about having them. I don’t have them. I swear.
They’re the focus of the hot docs I’m working on at the C* Law Firm. I’m studying the shingle theory in Securities Regulation. But most importantly, I suppose, is the idea of possibly hanging up my own shingle when I become a licensed attorney.
I don’t even feel competent enough to cut J’s hair. I don’t know if I’m quite ready to go out on my own just yet. I’d probably have better luck hanging up shingles. Literally. Like a roofer.
I’d probably have the best luck actually developing shingles, but please please world, don’t let it come to that.
Today at the C* Law Firm, an attorney spent 10 (TEN!) minutes explaining to me how to put 300 files in numerical order.
He then wasn’t satisfied with his explanation and insisted that I watch as he rearranged 3 files.
Watch, watch. See how this file goes from 15313 to 15398? This next one is 15399 to 15551. But this next one starts at 18001, so it’s not in order.
I learned to count in kindergarten, but thanks, guy.
Actually… no. In first grade, we had an in class assignment to write out our numbers from 1 to 100. Easy peasy, I thought. I’m Asian - I practically learned to count to 100 in the womb.
So I scribbled out my numbers as fast as I could, and when I was done, my teacher told me to just keep going and see how high I could count.
While I knew my numbers to 100, I didn’t know of any numbers larger than that. When would a 6 year old understand the significance of more than a hundred of anything?
So I tried my best based on what I knew and at the end of class my friend finished at around 150 while I boasted around the 500s. How’d you get so far? he asked. He looked at my paper where I had written out:
I was stocking up on delicious delicious Pepsi Max at the self-checkout lane at Kroger when an elderly black man (55+) asked me how to use the scanner.
I walked him through the process but found it odd that he was only purchasing one item - vanilla extract - with a $100 bill. No one needs flavor syrup at 1 in the afternoon.
Research (Google) tells me that “[t]he 35-percent alcohol content of most vanilla extracts approaches some hard liquors,” and many supermarkets have had to put it behind counters because high schoolers were buying it for a quick and cheap fix.