All posts by LeahWould

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About LeahWould

Writing, Reading, and Singing are a few of my favorite things to do. Walks on the beach are pretty awesome, except they're rare, because I'm landlocked in Kansas City, MO. I also enjoy making people smile/laugh! This is probably one of the most generic "about you"'s you've read all f*cking day....maybe even all d@mn year!! Some people say I cuss like a sailor.

Random Rambles-Googles #leahwouldramble

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Another tiny example of how my mind/logic works: (I apologize in advance.)

As evil and manipulative and full of espionage as it is, I really enjoy Google.  I USE it often.  I think this MIGHT stem from my childhood.  Let me explain.  As a young girl, my favorite toys were stuffed animals, “Littlest Pet Shop” sets, and “My Little Pony” horses (with sparkly hair OF COURSE).  One day, while prowling through a vast number of garage sales with my mother (and 5 other kids), I discovered a football sized, cream-colored, stuffed platypus.  I immediately loved it, and it was purchased for approximately 10 cents.  That was the best 10 cents ever spent, because he remained my favorite stuffed animal for years!  I named him, “Googles”.  Perhaps, this is a subconscious reason for my loving Google so much.  The search engine IS my long-loved platypus. 

Therefore, if I need to find out some info, I’ll be sure “Platypus” it.

“Loose Marvin” #leahwouldramble

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For anyone unfamiliar with Loose Park, there is a spot near the Rose Garden which is a gigantic, concrete pavilion, covering an area with multiple picnic tables.  It is in this place that today’s cardio workout commenced.  As we warm up near the end of picnic table rows and begin some of our first jumps, push-ups, and other assorted tortures, an older gentlemen walks out of the smoldering heat and into our area.  He is a mere two picnic tables south of our group.

Upon first glance of this man, one could surmise that he was a vagrant traveler*.  That is, unless he indeed DOES have a baby at home, and is merely using its stroller to tote around a few belongings on this day.  OR PERHAPS he did something grievous enough at his home that his possible-wife threw him out of the house…for a month.  He has very dark, sun-tanned, semi-wrinkled (dare I say, unwashed?) skin, and shoulder-length blonde, wiry hair, with dark roots, and is wearing nothing but board shorts and tennis shoes.  I couldn’t give you many more details than that, because I felt that if I looked too long, my eyes would either melt out of my skull, or I would turn into a pillar of salt. 

As I begin a series of jump ropes (I would estimate about 500-1,000 jumps, because that’s what it felt like, but I didn’t count them so couldn’t say for sure.), I am facing South, and therefore this man, whom I’ve decided to name Marvin (Thank you, Heather, for the name.), is in my plain view.  I watch as he carefully places a towel flat on the bench of the picnic table.  Then I notice he begins putting a few items from the baby stroller onto the table—a plastic bag, a small green and white striped mirror, and…a box of…no way….a BOX of blonde “Nice and Easy” hair dye!  What???  I figure that it couldn’t POSSIBLY be actual hair dye!  It must just be the box that is handy to carry around things like…Kleenex (He WAS sneezing, after all.)…or rolling papers with tobacco…or peanuts or something!  MAYBE, Marvin just likes the picture of the woman on the front.  But NO….. ….it is, INDEED, a box of hair dye, and one that he has apparently decided to use…right THERE.  Why not, right?  I mean…who DOESN’T want to take care of their dark roots at a public park?

  At this point, I’ve moved on to other sweat-drenching exercises, but there is NO mistaking the fumes of dye wafting into my nostrils.  I take a glance over, and yes…application…all over his head.  I did not realize that homeless men took so much interest in their appearance, but Marvin must’ve had a hot date lined up….maybe with the girl on the box.

So then Marvin lies down on the bench, and I assume he intends on napping while the dye sets into his hair follicles.  No….this is no nap.  In complete surprise, I peek over to see that he’s brought the mirror up to his face, and is applying the hair dye…TO HIS EYEBROWS!! Just squirting directly from the bottle to his face!  Oh, this guy is SERIOUS.  We CAN’T be dying our homeless hair without also dying EYEBROWS….and Sideburns…..AND  I’m sure that if he had a beard, it would have gotten the goo rubbed all over it, too.

As we walk away, I can’t help but wonder, …….

“Where does ‘hair dye guy’ plan to wash out all that hair color?”

 

*I feel compelled to mention that I, personally, hold no grudge against someone who is truly homeless.  I do not know their stories, and believe there are several who really HAVE encountered a series of unfortunate events that led to their demise.  Unfortunately, there is no way to discern the true homeless people from the non-homeless ones, upon first glance.  I merely assume they are what/who they say they are, and I wish the best for them, either way.

Homicidal Coffee #leahwouldramble

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Some may say that life is a balancing act.  This is true, but not just in the metaphorical sense.  I have several circus-like moments throughout my normal workday.  Take my morning coffee mug, for example.  I like to fill it almost all the way to the top with my liquid addiction, plus creamer.  The GREAT part about this is I get to suck down more coffee, once I begin drinking.  The BAD part….walking back to my desk with my coffee-filled mug in hand.  If I make ONE slightly uneven step, the coffee tries to crawl up the side of my mug and jump off the edge of it onto the carpet. 

“No!! Don’t do it, coffee!!!  BACK AWAY FROM THE MUG-LEDGE!!!” 

So, then I have to stop, in the middle of the walkway, to let my suicidal coffee calm its nerves. 

And the trek begins again, slowly and carefully– a tightrope act with no rope, but a mere carpeted floor.  With each step, I pick up speed, hoping that my balance is enough to keep the coffee’s nerves calm enough to stay in the safety of its cup.  Of course, the entire time, I am HOPING that no one is watching this horrible circus routine, because it would surely deserve rotten fruit and peanuts being thrown at it. 

Alas!  The brown liquid tries to slosh again, and before I can stop it this second time, a splash if it has landed on my hand.  How the hell am I supposed to remain balanced and steady handed when scalding coffee BITES MY HAND!!  It was never suicidal after all…it wants to kill me.  Homicidal Coffee made  its first strike, inevitably, because it knows I plan on drinking it, a.k.a. ending its unbalanced, dark, caffeinated life!

 I arrive at my desk, finally, with a wet, burning hand, and a now messy-drips-down-the-side mug, and take my first gulp.  The battle isn’t over, as I so wrongly assumed.  It is now burning my tongue in a last-ditch effort of survival.  **Chugs coffee out of spite.**

Fat Random Ramble

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Sometimes, I forget to eat.  And by “sometimes”, I mean “once every few months”!  I adore food WAY too much.  I suppose you could say that I’m actually a fat girl trapped inside a mediocre-sized girl’s body.  Here are a few ways I know this is true:

–Today, I walk by my boss’s desk, and he is eating a variation of potato chip.  My immediate urge was to walk over, scoop them all into my hand, and then stuff them into my mouth. 

–Sometimes, I black out while eating cake, and completely forgot that I ate it, so that I can justify eating Casey’s pizza a mere two hours later.

–I can’t bring ranch in my lunchbox for veggie dipping.  Doing so would ensure my drinking the dressing directly from the container and forgetting the vegetables’ existence.

–When my sister in law asks me, “Leah, can you help me decorate for your nephew’s 2 year b-day party on Saturday?”, I hear, “Leah, there will be cake and chips on Saturday that you need to help me eat, or I’ll die.”

–I am eating THREE pieces of dark chocolate right NOW after debating for the entire past 5 hours if I should eat ONE.

–If someone asked me if I would join a cheese-eating contest, I would join instantaneously, without question, and offer to take any leftover cheese home with me when it was over.  (It would not make it home with me, because I would finish it off in the car before arriving there.)

–Gravy: I love it.

The list goes on…

RandoRambleDream

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Who came up with the phrase “Slept like a baby.”?  And WHY is this phrase referring to someone who slept WELL?  I’m sure I’m not the first person to ask this, and I could probably Google the answer…but I’d rather just complain about it!  Sleeping like a BABY is not necessarily sleeping well at all!  Those slobbery, poopy things wake up all night long, don’t they??  I would NOT consider that a good night’s rest.  It DOES, however, remind me of my UCM Stagecraft teacher.  Apparently, through college, due to all the classes and work schedule, he trained himself to sleep for 2 hours, go work, sleep for 2 hours, go work/do class, sleep 2 hours….for the entire day!!  Pretty sure I couldn’t rewire myself to do that shit! He definitely “slept like a baby”! :)

Side note: “Slept like a log” is equally ridiculous.

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Speaking of sleeping, anyone who knows me knows that I often have dreams, and they’re crazy and vivid and almost as nonsensical as this blog.

Last night, I dreamt that I received a message on an answering machine (that doesn’t actually exist in my house) from my friend Rebekah, saying that she has finalized the plans for our cruise.  Then, on the same day, I receive an email from Taylor Swift (who I do not know, nor am I a major fan of) saying the SAME THING.  The bad part is, I don’t remember telling either one of them that I’d be able to go on a cruise.  I decided to just act as if I never received Taylor’s email, and I call Rebekah to let her know  am excited for our cruise, completely faking that I knew about it all along!  A week goes by, and I’ve somehow managed to forget to tell anyone that I’m leaving for a cruise!  My mother shows up for lunch with Shannon and me on that sunny Saturday, and at the same time, Taylor Swift arrives.  AWKWARD!!  She’s ready to leave, and has our plane tickets ready to go.  I immediately feel really bad and am stammering with an explanation when Rebekah pulls into the driveway.  At this point, I have to explain to my husband that I’m leaving on a cruise…that same day!  He’s annoyed.  Of course so are the girls, who are both waiting to see who I will go with.  Finally, my frustration boils over, and I begin yelling that I can’t go on a cruise with either one of them, because truth be told, I can’t afford to go anywhere!  So they look at each other, and decide to go together.  They begin chattering excitedly about it while walking off to the car.  What….just….happened???

I have no idea where this dream came from, but I’m pretty sure that I AM IN NEED of a vacation………………. or a beach.

“Guest Post”…that you must read.

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I realize that yesterday, I did not post a blog.  THIS will make up for it…times TEN!  As usual, this morning I headed into work at the butt-crack of not-even-dawn-yet to meet Heather for our pre-yoga workout.  All seemed good and normal for a spring Thursday morning.  Then…..

Enter the shower room.

 A razor cut of epic proportions happens.  I know this, because I hear Heather’s blood curdling scream! (That’s not true…she actually just casually mentions that she nicked her ankle in the shower, but I had you going for a moment, right?)  At this point in time, I have to rush off to yoga, because I’m late as usual.

Then, hours later, I receive an email from Heather that had me cracking up at my desk.  With her permission, I am sharing that email with you now, and I hope it makes you pee your pants a little.  (Please…if it does, you MUST tell me!)  Luckily, since Heather not only shares my sense of humor, but also my views on many aspects, this fits RIGHT into my blog!  I told her she’s now free to “Guest Post” at any time, and I hope she does!  I also hope you enjoy this as much as I did!! (1-2-3, READ!):

From: Heather Magnificent (Last name has been changed.)

Sent: Thursday, May 09, 2013 10:23 AM

To: Leah Arp

Subject: Ballin’ harder than a ballplayer.

 

So after you leave me to deal with my crazy shaving cut that has tracked blood all over the locker room, I spend about 10 minutes wiping up the floor (so now the contents of the trashcan make it look like someone cleaned up after a murder scene) and through all of this, it won’t stop bleeding profusely so I’m eventually following myself around with my (of course, white) towel I usually use to dry off, because the paper towels run out.

I try to start getting ready, and give up on putting clothes on because it continues to bleed. I start to wonder what it is like to die from blood loss. (Am I light headed? Just imagining it?) So far, not so bad. After about 45 minutes, it slows down, and I decide I can safely get dressed.

Then I realize: I don’t have a bra. I’m pretty sure that is the one and only thing I cannot pull off at work, so I free-ball it under my striped shirt and get ready to head home. (Ballin’ harder than a ball player! Ha!) Probably for the better, as I need to take the towel home that I used to clean up the murder scene. (I don’t even want to imagine how that would go over if a bloody towel was discovered in the locker room. My guess? Not well.) I fold up the towel, hug it to my chest to hide the bra situation, and head out.

It’s 7am. I won’t run into anyone, right? Nope. Hoards of Lockton people apparently randomly decided that they actually need to get to work on time, on a Thursday. So I step off the freight elevator to see about four people stare at me awkwardly as they process the fact that I am hugging a bloody towel to my chest, like a serial killer trophy. I’m not sure if they’re more dumbfounded by the fact that I go bra-less at work, or the towel. Or both at once, which probably implies I’m beyond sick.

Get home, put on a bra, throw the towel in the wash, and realize I didn’t take my trash out. Serendipitous! I go to yank the waterlogged bag out of the outdoor trashcan… and it EXPLODES.

 ALL OVER ME.

And my awesome neighbor, Scary Larry, sees this entire thing from his window. I stand there in shock, horror, and disgust, and Scary Larry decides to step outside to tell me the bag just exploded all over me. (Thanks Larry! I didn’t know!) And then tries to talk to me about music, while I’m standing there covered in trash juice at 7:30 am, trying not to have a psychotic break.

Pretty sure the only thing that could’ve been worse than this morning would involve a combo of honey, fire-ants, and bears, in a locked room with me. I tried to recover the morning by taking out my favorite black glitter coozie, putting my sugar-free-redbull-gift-from-you into it, and adding a hot pink straw. Glitter, redbull, and hot pink soothe my soul. (<- Interjection from Leah: It soothes EVERYONE’S soul!)

I am also suffering from guilt that I ate food from a drive-thru for the first time in almost a year yesterday. With dessert. (As if rehydrated meat isn’t damaging enough to my body.) Sometimes, I just like to show my body who is boss. Also considering skipping cardio class today, as I wouldn’t want to undo the scolding of fastfood.

So anyways, I re-shower, text my boss to tell him I’m late, head into work, and decide I’m dropping out of grad school in the last week and pursuing my dream of becoming the highest paid linebacker in the NFL.

And that’s about where I am at. I am going to start bulking with the birthday food in the kitchen. (I love bulking! Cutting season: OVER IT.)

 

Tiny Rambles

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Lately, I have been so lackadaisical (Don’t you just LOVE that word??) on tracking my calories and water.  It is time to get back into it.  I will apologize to those on Twitter right now, because my water posts are going to start clogging up your timeline…again! #sorrynotsorry 

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Crystal Light Energy is delicious, but it is SO SWEET that it is difficult to chug.  Either that, or I am simply really crappy at chugging.  Or both.  It could be both.

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 Is it time for tacos yet?  I want tacos.

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Ramblephobia

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I have this fear that I will fall to the ground here.  I’ll trip over my own feet at work, and kersplat onto my face!  And, there will definitely be plenty around me to see it happen.  This is extremely possible, because I have such klutzy tendencies.  I already tripped once last week, but at least it was outside, and only in front of one person….and I wasn’t in a skirt.  I wonder if there’s a name for this fear…

**Googles**

Okay; nothing came up right away, so I’ll assume there is no name for this fear.  I shall name it… Fearoffallaphobia!!!!!!

Say that ten times fast! Hee hee… (that that that that that that that that that that)

Rando-Rambly Defiance

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8:30am

I am a torturer of staplers!  I don’t care if they are big, small, manual, or electric!  I will stuff as many papers as possible into them!  And if they don’t push that staple all the way through the first time, I will DO IT AGAIN!!  Apparently, I just figure I can defy physics and force the staple to become longer—long enough to clasp an inch-high stack of papers with a half inch long staple! YOU WILL WORK, DAMN IT!!!!   UGH…**slams stapler…shoves papers…slams again….**  Oh, never mind!

**Feels Defeated.**

**Walks over to heavy duty stapler; staples all papers with ease.**

This isn’t over, Stapler!!!!  I’ll be back on Monday, you little jerk!

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If you don’t like messing up, I suggest learning from OTHER PEOPLE’S mistakes.  For example, I have recently seen two people open their Greek yogurts the wrong way.  How is there a wrong way to open yogurt, you might ask?  It has to do with the built-up pressure underneath the foil-top’s seal.  When it comes to the Yoplait 100 cal Greek yogurts, if you have the foil tab facing you when you open it, the yogurt will spurt out bits of creamy gunk all over your shirt when you open it, so you end up looking like a whore-ish mess!  Hee hee…..Now, I am sure to only open my yogurt the RIGHT way.  Thank you very much to those who made that mistake, so that I didn’t have to!  (You know who you are…)

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4:00pm

UUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!! AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! F*** YOU, STAPLER!!!!!!!!!!!!! **Shakes fist!**

 

RandoRamble

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Cutting tags from a shirt is a trifle.  Either you end up with just a small strip of tag left on the shirt (which for some unknown reason annoys me), or you have a thin hole in your seam!  Who thought up tags on shirts anyhow?  I understand the necessity for them, with the laundering instructions, ingredients, etc….but can’t they be adhered in a different way?  I realize some cotton shirts merely have print on the inside of the shirt, and I completely applaud that idea!  If all you other shirts could follow suit, it’d be much appreciated.   If not, then I’ll continue to cut holes in you…and yes…that is a threat, Shirts…that…is a threat. **Waves Scissors over head.**

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When is it too late to make coffee at the office?  At precisely 11:30, I decided on having one more cup for myself.  The first pot I tried was empty, so I moved to the second and filled my mug.  Now normally, I would automatically take the empty pot and brew more coffee to fill it, but at this point in the day, would it get drank?  I mean, it would be a shameful waste to make an entire pot of coffee that just eventually must be poured out.  It is still morning, but noon is fast approaching, and I don’t know how many people on this floor are afternoon coffee drinkers.  I left the pot empty…Bad move?  When is the cutoff time???

Random Ramblings May Day!

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These are our lives…there’s no point in spending them miserable!  So put on a grin, People…no matter what!  If it’s momentarily difficult, things will surely improve!  If it’s already great, then enjoy the ride! 

There…now you have an inspirational spurt from my brain. Yay! Time to get back to the randomness…

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If I were rich yesterday, I would have gone on a hot air balloon ride through the sunny, blue sky!  I would have taken several pictures to treasure, but also would have brought along a book, because surely after awhile, it would become boring….unless the hot air balloon went to Oz. 

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Angela and I discussed the fact that Oceans of Fun will be opening soon!  We basically have three weeks to finish up getting in shape #becausebikini!!!!!  Holy Crap!!  I’m STOKED that summertime is close, but YIKES, the time to don a swimsuit still sort of sneaked up on me!  In my head, I still had at least a couple months before I had to squeeze my tush into one of those suckers!  Guess I’d better keep on runnin’!  So glad to have so many people to help me stay motivated!!!  **Bans the Bon Bons**

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Random Ramblings 4-29

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When I look at regular original flavored creamer versus French vanilla flavored coffee creamer, I don’t assume there is much difference.  I drink my first cup of coffee with French vanilla.  I drink my second with Original creamer flavor.  I discover there is a WORLD of difference.  That fact aside, I want to know if there exists a caffeinated creamer; I wouldn’t care what flavor that shit is…Pour it in!

Also, caffeinated cheese should be a thing.

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I have a wildlife calendar hanging on the wall of my cubicle at work.  I’m not looking forward to flipping it to “May”, because the picture for that month is an American Bison.  Nothing against you, Mr. Bison, but I enjoy looking at a colorful Macaw more than your big, furry butt!  Here…have a carrot…don’t charge me.

Random Ramblings

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You know those cheap, microwave bean burritos that you can buy in a package of 10 at the grocery store?  I adore those.  EVEN THOUGH they’ve scalded my mouth on several occasions (and yet then soothed the burnt flesh with their still-icy center..hot then cold…like Katy Perry…or Sour Patch Kids), I can’t get enough of those things!  I have stopped buying them altogether, because anytime they are in our house, it is required for me to eat two or three in one sitting…as a snack.  And I can’t just eat them alone, Oh no!  They’ve also got to be covered in gooey, melty cheddar and taco sauce (Spanish Gardens, preferably).  They are the vortex in my freezer, calling my name and drawing me in…and at the grocery store, I have to rush past them before their calls make it through the freezer doors!  “Eat us, Leah….EAT US ALL!!!!!!!!”