Wednesday, June 27, 2007

The Witts


I'm not losing a sister - I'm gaining another family member who can rest his elbow on my head. Welcome to the family Chris!

For those of you dying for more pictures.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Those llamas must have great agents

The line that made me snort out loud during my morning on-line newspaper crawl: "(funny, I always thought hickory barky barky was the traditional ark-building material)" Let's hear it for girls camp sing-alongs!

Dear Steve Carell and Lauren Graham:

It’s weird that you’re both in the same movie because you’re both in my two favorite TV shows. The Office is by far the funniest show around. I use it as a litmus test on people I meet. If you don’t like the Office then I can’t be your friend. Not even if you make me brownies. Although that shouldn't deter you from trying to woo me with brownies. And Gilmore Girls, although I think we can all agree that this past season was the equivalent of low fat salad dressing (trying so hard to fool you into thinking it's just like the real thing but you've had the real thing, you know what it's suppose to taste like and this is definitely not it), was the smartest, most charming show on TV for a nice block of years. So here’s my question for you both – why would you do a movie like Evan Almighty, where you will tragically be upstaged by barn yard animals? I've seen the previews and it’s loaded with them. And we all know what animals in movies mean: zany antics.

Have some dignity.

Love, Rachel

Thursday, June 21, 2007

An open letter

To the wee little bird who wouldn't move out of my way this morning at the gas station:

That thing I was doing with my hands, that's the universal sign for "fly away!" Learn it. Seriously, I was late for work and you could totally see that there wasn't a whole lot of space between my car and the gas pump but you just stood there, blocking my way, like it was Trader Joe's and we were in the produce aisle. Have you been? It's right down the street if you feel like going and blocking other people. It's like they hire people to stand in your way there. You could earn a little income. And they have really good snacks.

Anyway, I think it was pretty obvious that my only options were to either go around the car to get to my door or hop over you. But here's the problem, and don't take this personally, but I don't actually like birds. You kind of scare me. I'm fine with you flying around or hanging out in trees, but when actually confronted with one up close and outside of a cage, I get a weird feeling that you're going to pass some kind of horrible disease on to me (ever heard of Avian flu?) or you're going to fly up and get tangled in my hair or peck my eyes out or poop on me. I didn't like either option because to go around the car would have been pretty silly, and to hop over you meant that I would have tempted the whole disease/flying up scenario. So I tried shooing you. No luck. I tried moving my foot in your direction. You didn't even flinch. You just gave me a look that said, "What do you want, lady?" Um, I thought it was pretty obvious what I wanted. For your tiny bird butt to get out of my way. But you didn't get it so I hopped, and then made a mad dash into the car and slammed the door shut because the whole Avian flu thing seemed like a real possibility if you weren't moving.

Maybe you have bird consumption and you were too weak to fly and you're bird pals couldn't do anything for you so they just left you in the gas station, hoping that someone would pick you up and take you home and hold your little wing while you swoon on the couch. Or maybe it was the bird gang initiation that Katie is always talking about. Maybe you had to try to intimidate someone at the gas station into going around their car. Well, better luck with the next chump, or get well soon. Which ever is the case. Next time, please move.

Sincerly, Rachel
PS. Here's a shot of one of the few Rachel Approved Birds:

Friday, June 15, 2007

Trebuchet? Really?

Did you know this font is called "trebuchet"? Note to self: Find out who names fonts and how to get that job. Because if all I have to do is come up with words that really have no correlation to how a font looks than that's the job for me. When I see this font I don't get the sense that it's hurling large, possibly flaming, objects at advancing armies. Although it is a lovely font. And a fine sounding word.

Ahem...Welcome to my blog.

I feel a little foolish having one. Seriously. Who's going to read it? Absolutely no one, unless I tell them about it, which is pretty unlikely for now. But I like to write and there's a wee little corner in my head (yep, my head has corners. I'm not ashamed.) that thinks maybe I should try it out on an audience larger than myself. And maybe having a blog will force me to write more often (So thought every hopeful writer who has ever started a blog). Time will tell, my little imaginary readers.

Things to expect: amusing anecdotes. I've got a million of them. I've met a lot of people who do zany things every now and then and I like to jot them down. I won't put any real names, because that's just mean. Or is the just mean part the jotting down? Guilt will be the judge of that. And beyond amusing anecdotes, pretty much anything because I have a lot of interests. Felt, for instance. I may have the largest collection of felt in the world. Or at least my aparment complex. Either way, I'm pretty proud of it.