Still Stalling
My sunburn is peeling off and, people, it is le gross. I'm all slathered up with delicious-smelling lotions, so I haven't slipped into chameleon stage or anything, but if I had a choice, I wouldn't have my skin coming off my body. That's not cool.
Krista and I finished our epic novel about hot dogs, so I invite you to learn more about the Coney Island competition than you ever thought you wanted to know. Here it is. And if you need dessert afterwards, you might head over to Digest for a little chocolate cake. All the competitive eating coverage is now going to be on True Fan, the sports blog, which really makes the most sense if you think about it.
You'll notice our writeup is very long. I think I may have used up my writing reserves doing it, as you've no doubt noticed if you even stop by here any more. I promise I'm gearing up to get back on the personal blog horse very shortly. I've even been thinking up some mundane things to share with you! Like: the last time I took my laundry in to be done, it came back with two shirts and some yoga pants missing. I went back to see if perhaps the people might have put them in the wrong bag or something, but they denied knowing what I was talking about. I know for positive that these items were in the bag. The laundry people insisted that it wasn't busy when I brought in the laundry, so there was no chance of the items getting mixed in to another person's dryer or something. While this is true, it also means that if the clothes DEFINITELY didn't get mixed up and they were DEFINITELY in the bag when I brought it in and DEFINITELY not in the bag when I retrieved it, then someone is running around in my American Apparel yoga pants and H&M shirts. These are not expensive items, but they are MY items and how would you like to lose you favorite black shirt? Anyway, there is nothing to be done. But now here is the real question: do I return to this laundromat (the most convenient one) or seek out another one? Doing my own laundry like a normal person isn't an option for I am The Lazy.
Peeling? Yeah, about 10 minutes after we got there I asked Heather if she had any sunscreen in her purse (hey, it was worth a shot). Turns out she didn't, so I took my chances and so far, so good.
Hey, I gave a shout out to your man, George Shea on my blog. Was it you that wrote in you and Krista's write-up that he was a personal hero of yours? Turns out, he's not so bad.
I believe the "personal hero" remark can be attributed to the original UrHo competitive eating fan, Mikey.
We had three tubes of sunscreen with us, I just didn't so much put it on adequately.
I swear to all that is holy that shit disappears every month at the laundry place where we drop ours off. Really random shit that I'm sure no one would want to steal (my favorite running socks with the cushioning, underwear?) so I'm positive some other mofo got my undies and is running around with my good socks.
It makes me so mad! But I am also lazy. But does that mean I can't be mad too?
Maybe that is the price you must pay for dropoff service? I never could understand where all those things would disappear to. The best dropoff situation I ever had was a guy who would hang dry things I put in a separate bag. He must have been really desperate for business.
I never trusted anyone else to do my laundry. Not even my mom! I've been doing it myself as long as I can remember. So I guess your only alternative is to be laundry obsessive, as I am. Which also kind of sucks. But I mourn for your lost clothes. And lost skin. That too.