Thursday, June 4, 2009



I baked chicken in the oven on Sunday.  I burnt my hand in the oven on Sunday.  I was so anticipating my lunch that I rather eagerly pulled up on the foil only to have my hands make contact with the roof of the oven.  Domestic fail.


Val and I talked on Skype for an hour last night and finished our conversation singing to Don’t Stop Believin’ by the cast of Glee.  Check it out on iTunes and you too can be a winner.


I auditioned for the first time in five years.  After the not-so-subtle encouragement of friends I made the appointment, printed head shots, pulled out the old sheet music and made my way to the theatre on Saturday.  I have a callback in two weeks.  Yet another story only made possible by getting out of the car.  Degree-in-use win.


Depends on whom you ask.  This is yours truly on the first day of 6th grade. Looking good.  Check out the same plaid in the shoes and shorts.  The shirt is what we will actually be talking about.

This is me today.  That’s right.  Same shirt.  Total win.  The unfortunate truth is that there has been a mighty hole in my blue shirt growing in size with every year.  I decided last night that the time had come to fix the problem at its source.  I pulled out my sewing kit while I was on the phone, so I did a bang up job.  In the opinion of one of my co-workers “it’s the worst sewing job ever.”  There’s still a little hole.  But at least it’s not being held together by two safety pins.  Win.


I’m flying home to Texas in one month and seeing most of my extended family over the 4th.  Big win. 


My gym only has three channels available for viewing:  CNN, ESPN, and NBC.  Depending on the time of evening and day of the week this has the potential to make or break my workout.  All week I’ve been there somewhere between 7:30pm and 9:00pm and found myself with the choice of softball playoffs, Larry King Live, and I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here.  Culture FAIL.


Anonymous said...

How about a blog entry about that plaid shirt... you know the one. :)

shannonmichaelis said...

BURN the shirt! Or bring it to Galvez, and I will somehow make sure you never see it again. 'What not to wear' would have a field day with that one! And while you're at it, burn the shirt that was my dad's, then mine, and now yours for eternity. This is your fashion conscious cousin speaking - burn the shirt!