Cardiogirl 19 percent body fat 100 percent fun


stream of consciousness


Today, apparently, is Stream of Consciousness Friday. Connect the dots at your own risk.


I woke up early this morning with the following song lyrics traipsing throughout my head. "I like big butts and I cannot lie . . ." I don't think I heard that song at all yesterday. Perhaps it was piped in as Muzak at the grocery store. That's the only place I visited yesterday that might have had that song playing in the background.

I don't know any of the lyrics except the staccato delivery of the first four words above. In fact I had to look up the rest of the lyrics online (thank you Google). So in my head I hear that line and then the rest of the melody goes "dun dun dun dun dun" because I don't know the lyrics.

Just thought that was weird. Carry on.


For the last year or so, I have noticed a guy who walks up and down a main road in my little town. I saw him mostly in the summer and fall last year. He wears a light blue striped shirt, jeans, dark dress shoes and a tweed blazer. Sometimes he shakes it up and wears a beret type hat with the ensemble. And he wears headphones attached, I assume, to an ipod.

He appears to be in his 30s, has dark brown hair and a clean shaven face. I don't know if he's an upscale homeless person or independently wealthy. He walks ever so deliberately, with his head held high and his gait slow and steady. He clearly is in no hurry as he is measuring each step and concentrating on the sounds coming from the ear buds.

Anyway, I hadn't seen him for about six months or so and yesterday morning, when I was driving to my parent's house around 10:30 or so, I saw him again. For winter he has ditched the striped shirt and blazer in favor of a non-descript shirt and winter down-filled vest. He was also sans a hat.

I had to do a double-take as I drove by to make sure it was him. He also shook it up by walking on the other side of the street. Usually he walks east on the north side of the street. Yesterday he also headed east, but on the south side of the street.

He's a conundrum. I so desperately want to pull over and ask him what his story is. But more importantly, I don't want to be featured on the cover of People magazine as the subject of a bizarre murder story in the suburbs of Detroit.


I believe I was in my late 20s when I fully realized I am an uptight chick. Until that time I fancied myself as laid back and as liquid as water, just going with the flow. At least that's the persona I try to project to the outside world, but until I was about 28 years old, I really believed in that persona as well.

Then I started to see how my stomach churns in knots and I lose sleep at night over inane things. Now that I have accepted that behavior as a cousin-once-removed in my little family of personality traits, I'm not so stunned by the revelation.

But it was hard to really admit it and rewrite my image of myself.


Can anyone prove or disprove the following statement to me? One should never flush a piece of Kleenex, not even one measly piece, for fear of backing up the toilet.

I have lived in fear of this statement all of my life.

I do not understand how the biological makeup of Kleenex differs so greatly from that of toilet paper. However, I never flush Kleenex.

Not even half a piece ripped down the middle. Not even one-ply of a two-ply piece.

Can anyone dispel this potential myth? Thanks in advance.


2007-01-05 at 7:23 a.m.

last post | next post