Remember Facebook Notes?

They weren't just for annoying girls to post entire songs in a note, label it something depressing and then have people comment on it about how much they loved them and if they need anything they can talk.  They don't want to talk.  They want to be passive aggressive so that somebody pays attention to them.  (PS, my goal was always to find those notes and write "I Love this song!" in the comments).

Anywho, one Facebook note that I enjoyed was the whole, put your iPod on shuffle and the song that comes up is about your life.  So I'm going to do that one now, mostly because my musical knowledge has expanded beyond that of the Top 40 that made up my last note...which is, unfortunately (ha!) lost in the great Facebook void (along with my dignity).

So...herr we go...I suppose.  Just so you know, I'm going to cheat and change either the title or the song if I don't feel it's good enough...but pretend you don't know that...Then, I'm going to give my analysis of how this paints the picture of my personality/music preferences.

My friends see me as:  Judas.

Apparently, I'm either the historical figure, or the guy in Lady Gaga's video, who, coincidentally enough is the guy who plays Darryl on The Walking Dead so my friends think that I would be an asset in the zombiepocalypse.  Which is true. 

My make-out song is:  Can't Help Falling in Love with You.

Either the Elvis or the A*Teens version.  I don't care.  How appropriate?!

My day will be like:  Allegretto.

This violin music will apparently, mean my day is going to start of slow and repetitive until it bursts into excitement and chaos, until I reach a breaking point/meltdown and collapse, only to come back slightly normal.  Which is how everyday works for me.

I’ll have a good day if I can just hear:  a Spotify Commercial.

Damn them and damn their commercials.  I don't care about how awesome Spotify Premium is and your vocal inflection pisses me off.

Next time I’m in front of a crowd, I’ll say:  Mr. Saxobeat.

Hopefully, there will be a Mr. Saxobeat in the crowd, otherwise I will have to try for the next crowd.

My message to the world has always been:  Set Fire to the Rain.

Apocalypse has always been a hobby of mine, so this clearly makes sense. (I'm beginning to think that randomness isn't random at all and that my life is clearly planned out by this note.)

Somewhere in my wedding vows, I will include:  Jai Ho!

A.) This is actually legit...if I'm marrying an Indian woman.  B.) This explains how this song got stuck in my head this week.

My best friend is like:  Super Bass.

And by that, I clearly mean Nikki Minaj. But really.

My alter-ego is:  Waka Waka (This Time for Africa)

Either African or Spanish...or Shakira.  I'm hoping for Shakira.

Right now, I feel:  Fuego.

Which proves that Shakira is my alter-ego!

My innermost desire is:  Victory

I do love me some Bond...and winning.

What makes me happy is:  The Edge of Glory.

And pushing idiots right off the edge of glory.  Sometimes I fall off, and that is never a good thing...

My birth was like:  Bad Romance

HA!  It's true!  My sister told my mom to put me back.  Barely two years later, my parents forced me into the position of middle child and thus, my middle child syndrome began.  And by syndrome, I mean my parents forgot I existed...until I moved out.  Joke's on them!

My theme song:  Forget You/Since You Been Gone

Of course it's by Pentatonix.  Love me some Pentatonix.  Also, I forget people because, odds are, I hate them.

My deepest secret is:  Rolling in the Deep.

Along with three bodies, my New Year's Resolutions, my missing socks from the dryer and my dignity...or my soul.  I forget which one I put down there...

If I reached the top of Mount Everest, what I would scream:  Defying Gravity.

And then promptly jump/die from exhaustion.

My favorite thing to do is:  Never Gonna Leave this Bed.

If I didn't have to, I wouldn't.  Trust me.  Getting up in the morning is always the struggle bus.  Whenever I collapse face first on my bed, it's a pain to try to get back up.  If only I had one of those beds on the back of a truck like they do in the music video, my life would be set!  Like, a pope-mobile bed!

The story of my life is:  I Gotta Feeling.

That my life sucks.

At my funeral they’ll play:  Domino.

I would like to point out, that this is merely a preemptive question.  Odds are, I'm going to figure out immortality before then, so World, looks like you're stuck with me.  But just in case...

When I’m drunk I say:  I'd Do Anything for Love

It's funny, because I can't love!

Behind my back, my friends think I’m:  Better In Time

Apparently, I'm no good in small doses.  I'm like a fine aged wine...or cheese...

If I got lost on a desert island, I would yell:  Meet Me Halfway!

To the boat!  I don't like swimming and there are sharks!  Also, do you think you could warm up the hot tub on your yacht?  I'm kind of cold.  PS, can I sleep in the dingy?  Just in case the boat sinks, I don't want to be stranded on another desert island.  Also, do you have anything else to eat besides shrimp and caviar?

When I’m in the shower, I sing:  Making Good.

And also making clean.

My love of life was inspired by the song:  Upside Down.

I don't know how to interpretate this one either...

Highschool was like:  Love Song.

Because I am certainly not going to compose one a love song, only because one inquired and is in necessity of one.  I am not going to create this love song today.

My family is described by the song:  I Dreamed a Dream.

Of time gone by?

How will you die?  One Day More

Which basically proves my immortality.

To cheer myself up I:  Crash Your Party

Because your party is just that awesome.

So...that's a little insight into my life.  How was that for everyone?  I enjoyed it.  Also, my music choices are greatly expanded from previous times attempting this note.  Which is now a blog post.  Which means it's better and more evolved.

Play Me a Song,

The Pianoman

If Walls Could Talk...

I would really want them to speak in British accents.

So, this day has been pretend productive.  While I didn't do the dishes or my homework, I did move my room around for a better atmosphere and I did pick up my clothes off the floor and put them somewhere else...I just don't remember where.

Anyway, I've noticed recently that my walls have been accumulating crap that I just keep putting up on them.  I don't even remember why some of it is up there, but it's there.  I feel that knowing why this stuff is on my wall will give y'all better insight into my life and help me understand my life a little bit more, because I am at a total loss.

So, on one wall, I have me one of them unmotivational posters.  Love that store and my house will have a demotivational room where these posters and coffee mugs will be placed throughout.  Seriously, these posters are awesome.

While that is covering one wall, I've got a series of letters and lists and signs and pictures and other assortments of goodies covering the other wall in my room.  These sorts of things include:

A Care Bear Drawing
Carefully colored (all in the lines too!) by one of my friends.  It says "Always Share".  Apparently, I don't share very well.  Maybe that's because it's my stuff and that hobo didn't need change for a burger, he wanted drugs!

A Portrait of Myself
Drawn carefully in red pen by one of my artistic friends.

The Contract
From when I sold my soul to the devil formed a band with my friends (not really, but you get the idea).  Article 3, my personal favorite, reads "Bitch Please."

Goodbye Letter
From my boss when I quit the nursing home I worked at.  It reads:
"Cheryl (the cook), Today is Brian's last day.  Please have him work in his polo today.  I don't have a uniform for him.  Jeff."
Thanks...really heartfelt message there.

A Stick
From one of my friends.  That stick is the embodiment of our friendship and can't be broken.  EVER!
PS, read her blog there --> http://storieswithemily.blogspot.com/

My Name Tag
From the nursing home I used to work at.

My Horoscope
From the birthday I used to have.

A Wisconsin Cheese Poster
From my roommate's parents (apparently, they think I really like cheese or something.)

Finally, a To Do List:
Pee of the balcony at my apartment.
Pop ball.
Go make me a sandwich, bitch.
Invade Ghana.
Piss all over the place.

Naturally, this list is still a work in progress.

But for real, this stuff all has personal momento value or something like that.  I'm sort of a packrat in that way.  I keep anything that I associate with a memory, probably because I have an irrational fear that I might end up in a coma and not remember anything, and these momentos are going to be the only things that help me remember.

I could delve deeper into that, but I will save that for Irrational Fear Month (February).  Which is a good time to announce that I have successfully planned for my blog for the next two months (February and March).  February is Irrational Fear Month and March will be Awkward Situations Month, where I will share with you all the awkward situations that I have to face in my awkward as heck life!

The Bears,
The Bulls

I'd Rather Have the Cavities Thank You

Real talk time.  I hate the dentist.  With a passion.  Loathe them more than any other adult-like appointment that I might possibly be able to have.  I would rather have a colonoscopy than go to the dentist.  For real.

For one thing, you have to sit in the waiting room that smells like mint toothpaste and latex gloves while listening to lite music for the workday barely audible over the noises of various drills and brushes and picks and iron presses.  The anticipation is almost too much as you are filling out your paperwork that you could have sworn you just filled out last time you were there, but Linda, the lady at the receptionist desk, doesn't believe you at all.

Finally, once you are called in, you are put in those awkward chairs just to be reclined to the point where your feet are higher than your head and you can't swallow properly, so you start choking.  They place your paper bib on you so they have some place to wipe the blood and tears they collect and then they start going to town.  The inspiration posters of cats "hanging in there" aren't enough to support you through what you are about to endure.

First comes the pick.  I hate the pick.  Every single time, without fail, my gums bleed.  And don't give me that, you didn't floss well enough here.  No.  You just punctured my gums with your mouth machete there and that's why my gums are bleeding.  Do not preach to me.  Most recently, I had a wonderful conversation with the lady cleaning my teeth:

Generic Dental Hygienist Name:  You aren't flossing enough.

Innocent Me:  Is it that obvious?  *Laughter ensues*

Horrid Bitch:  Yes.  When you floss, you don't bleed.

Offended Me:  Lady, I pay you to clean my teeth.  When I want a life lesson about how to waste my time, I'll call you and we can go over this "flossing" philosophy you claim to know so much about.

Finally, we get to the actual cleaning part.  You know, with toothpaste.  More fun conversation ensues:

The One with the Pick:  Is mint flavored OK?

Me:  I'd rather have Cream of Mushroom, but whatever.

Do you think they make Cream of Mushroom flavored toothpaste?  Because that would be totally awesome!

Eventually, I hear the verdict that, most likely, I have a cavity, but rather than fill it now, we'll just wait until it gets worse to fill it because it's probably going to merge with the other cavity right next to it.  PS, I have horrid teeth.  One would think I was British or something.

The only plus side of leaving the dentist is the clean teeth feeling and the new toothbrush.  Because $1.99 is way too much to spend on a toothbrush.  Morals of the story:

• Dentists are evil.
• Cream of Mushroom toothpaste would be awesome.
• Toothbrushes are much more effective when they are free.
• Flossing is a waste of time.  Don't do it.

Ever Grateful,

Brian

Welp...It's About That Time

Indeed it is title.  Indeed it is.  Sure it's the new year (YAY!) and we are one step closer to the imminent demise of human existence as we know it (OOH!) and I'm hungry and don't feel like cooking (FIGURES!), but I haven't blogged yet this year so let's get this party started.

Now, I had a list of stuff that I wanted to blog about because I felt that preparing myself for blogging was important, but I lost that list.  Not to mention that usually when I start blogging, I just let my mind wander and it ends up in some semi-coherent garbage with a bunch of punctuation marks and parentheses.  I know the list was around here somewhere and I was going to look for it while the page was loading on my crappy internet, but then I had a mild panic attack because my blog didn't show up when I signed in.

Turns out, I was simply using my other email address.  They are very similar (separated only by on i) and the only reason I have this confusion is because my Gmail made me make a new account because I had originally used my school email, but then it said that if I used my school email then my school would get credit for my blog or something like that and I was all HECK NO TECHNO so I had to change the email which I tried changing to my original Gmail email but Gmail was all HECK NO TECHNO and told me they couldn't do that (don't ask me why, I thought Google could do no wrong) so I had to create this new one which caused me so much confusion and inadvertently lead to this run-on sentence.

Other than that joyful confusion, not much is happening in this, the year of our destruction.  Been chillaxing with friends because I like them better than my family and I paid for them so I figured I might as well use them as much as possible (like my Netflix account).  Been working like a dog and will continue to work like a dog because school starts in two (COUNT IT!  TWO!) days and I am taking 16 credits plus 28 hours of work during the week.  So I will have two thirteen hour days, two twelve hour days and an eight hour day every week because I'm legally insane and don't feel like being social (Introversion FTW).

So....that's all...hmm...I think I'll look for that list again. I need something more exciting to talk about.

Fricken Starving!
Brian