Slowly turning into Macho Man Savage (on the inside)

I can't decide if I'm having a good day or not. I think I am, maybe, kinda, a little, sort of having an alright, not terrible, eh, fine day. I can't settle on adjectives that I like! I feel like I'm split into two folks: Happy KV and Turning into The Hulk Inside KV.

Here are some things that are making Happy KV so damn chipper:

Friends
I'm just going to put this out there: my friends are bomb. They're amazing, hilarious, fun, ridiculous and all around mother effing awesome. But most of all, they all seem to have this sense where whenever I feel like blarg they happen to show up or call just to see what's goin' on. It also just goes to show that I don't keep crappy, lame, silly or redonk people around in my life. Homie don't play that, which leads me to my next point:

Silly Phrases
I think I get it from my cousin Beezy, but I will occasionally latch on to a word and say it until I have taken all meaning and coolness out of it. For example, I'm trying to make the word "woof" catch on. I've been trying for a while. Let me set the mood for you. Say you're at the mall/store/eatery and you see a girl dressed something disgusting. It's terrible. She's wearing something horrible like moccasin boots, cutoffs and a bedazzled sweater with feathers. And not only is her hair stringy, but she's wearing sunglasses inside. And her sunglasses are smudged. You have to squint to look at her because if you opened your eyes at full capacity, your brain would laugh in your face and then quit. You turn to your friend to point out the walking atrocity and the only word you can muster to describe it is, "Woof." It's a powerful word. Go ahead and try it out.

Halloween
There's something about dressing up as someone you're not that's wonderfully comforting.


And since I said it's a 50/50 sort of day, here are some things that are making me die a little inside, even as I write this. True story. I'm 1% more dead than I was a second ago.


The word "excellent"
This word has become dangerous to me. I started using it as part of the words I'm trying to bring into my vocabulary, but it has since gotten horribly out of control. I can't stop saying it. And try as I might, I can't say it without sounding like a.) a surfer from 1991, b.) stoned or c.) feeling like I should be in Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. I am officially looking for a new word to bring into rotation that hasn't been popular since the late 80s.

My contacts and my eyeballs
Yesterday I went to put my contacts in and found that one of them was ripped. Ripped! Granted, I've been using these monthly contacts for 6 months now, but what the hell? There's nothing that will make me fly into an unsubstantiated rage quicker than having to break out my glasses. I feel like a huge geek and for some reason there's hair spray residue all over them, even though I haven't used hair spray since I was 14 and rocking the chola bangs. But I tried to make peace with it. Tons of people wear glasses, what's one more? Then today at work this happened:

Co-worker: Hey, I really like your glasses!
Me: Oh, thanks. (feeling less mutant like)
Co-worker: Where'd you get them? I'm trying to find some like that because I'm going to be Sarah Palin for Halloween.
Me: *sigh*

Sound effects eaters
Alright, this is a serious topic that needs to be discussed. I absolutely cannot stand people who make moaning, groaning or otherwise questionable pleasure noises whilst eating. Hey, I get it, that pear is delicious. It's so tasty it might even make you let out an involuntary moan or two. But I don't want to have to hear your sex noises because you're so smitten with your fruit. It's gross and kind of baffling. How is it possible to groan and swallow food at the same time? Any scientists in the house who can explain this to me? Mostly, it's just weird and makes me feel a little uncomfortable. In fact, sound effects eaters have just joined my own personal Axis of Evil.

Boys
Every last one of them are confusing and stupid. I remember thinking this when I was in fifth grade and a boy tripped me with a jump rope because he liked me. I remember thinking this when I was in 8th grade and had my first boyfriend. And I remember thinking it after every bad date, every bad argument, and every bad everything in between. Boys are silly and there is no point in trying to figure them all out.

Now that I think about it, tonight is Dollar Tuesday night at the local theatres, so perhaps my day is more 70/30 in favor of Happy KV. Good thing my love for cheap movies far outweighs any gripes I have with life at the moment. You win, Dollar Tuesday. You always do.