Weekend Indicators

2 times I cleaned up cat poop

4 strange bugbites that appeared on my legs

150 approximate number of floor tiles I scrubbed in my apartment, on hands and knees

6 people who showed up to our Saturday art class

25 cents spent on the bus

50 cents saved by walking instead of taking the bus

200 cents spent on fruit salad because we were so hot and thirsty from walking instead of taking the bus

3 approximate number of miles walked in one day in the equatorial heat

30 level of SPF I wore

5.5 approximate number of years until I get skin cancer

5 different types of cake I ate

4 meters of stuffing bought for this week's art class

8 billion times I thought about eating cake

7 people in my family on Skype at one time on Mother's Day

61 incriminating photos of my siblings posted to various places on the internet

[a quantity of times verging on innumerable] conversations about cake

1 times I stepped in dog poop


This has been Weekend Indicators with Jordan.  Indicative of what, we don't know. 
Tally 'em up, Tally-ho, and Until next weekend,
Jordan

In Which I Grow Old

Today, my little sister graduated college.  To celebrate this prestigious event, I have compiled a photographic homage to her, complete with words of wisdom she has shared with me over the past couple years through many an online chat and e-mail.  They are all DIRECT QUOTES.  Sunny, I can safely say that life wouldn't be the same without you.  (And yeah, I guess I'm glad I saved your life after you ate those wild mushrooms that one time.)

Here goes:

...

CONGRATULATIONS, SISTAH.

Sic 'em.

The Saga of Refrigerator

Because so many of you expressed interest in the story...

Part I: Fellowship of the Washer Ring

In early April, I notice that Refrigerator makes ominous groaning sounds at periodic intervals.

Gradually, the sounds become more frequent, lengthier, and occur at a higher pitch.

One night in the middle of watching A View to a Kill, Refrigerator will not shut up.

 

We unplug Refrigerator.

All perishables are relocated to the working fridge in the empty apartment upstairs.

Cristina and I remove various nuts, bolts, screws, and panels from Refrigerator.

Refrigerator refuses to cooperate.

Part Deux: Appliance-ocalypse Now

Peter Pan the Handyman attempts to fix Refrigerator.

Refrigerator refuses to cooperate.

Part The Third: Soyled Greens

Weeks pass.

The repairman and I are never on the same schedule.

The perishables languish and go bad in the refrigerator in the empty apartment upstairs because I am too lazy to walk up the stairs and consume them.

I subsist on a diet of noodles and canned tuna.

Refrigerator continues to display hostile behavior.

About once a week, I decide I can handle Refrigerator's moaning and groaning in the name of all that is popsicles and iced coffee.  I plug Refrigerator in and make the journey upstairs to retrieve a handful of perishable items.  Inevitably, within 10-12 hours, Refrigerator has me burying my head under a pillow or hitting my head against a wall.  Drastic measures must be taken: I unplug Refrigerator yet again--and sometimes, the perishables: they perish. 

You may have won the battle, Refrigerator, but not the War...

Part IV: A False Hope

Peter Pan the Handyman attempts to fix Refrigerator once more, employing Jedi mind tricks, a wrench, and a couple of plastic bottle caps.

Refrigerator gets worse.

REFRIGERATOR OF DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.

Part V: Appliance: Resurrection

And so it came to pass that in the fifth week, the Repairman issued a decree that all old refrigerator motors must be replaced by new motors, at a cost of approximately $10 USD.

Lo, the Repairman came bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and a new motor (minus the gold and frankincense).

There was duct tape, too.

And I saw that it was good.

AND NO THOSE ARE NOT THIN MINTS IN MY FREEZER WHY WOULD YOU SAY SUCH A THING?!?! THIS POST IS NOW OVER.

Part 6: Rise of the Machines coming soon to a theater near you!