What's in a Name?

You all remember the not-so-nice leaves I found at the Asian Market? Well guess what I found out today.... Ever wonder what "Canola" Oil is? It is Rapeseed Oil. A (very intelligent) marketing person changed the name to raise sales. It worked.

There is a new blog out there called Texts From Last Night and it is pretty funny. Most of the texts are sex or alcohol related but one made water almost come out my nose (excuse the language) and I had to share.

(847): Rock
(630): Scissors
(630): Fuck

It Could Happen

Lately my dreams have been SUPER boring. Like so boring they seem like my life and during the day I keep "remembering" things I did only to later realize that I actually dreamed it.

Example: Today I couldn't figure out why I had emailed my cousin to tell her that I wanted to see her while I was in Vegas when I can't possibly afford to go to Vegas. Oh, turns out I just dreamed I emailed my cousin.

So basically stuff that seems weird like that I have just been writing off to must-have-dreamed-it. This was fine except a couple of weeks ago I was telling Michael about how I had this dream that he text messaged me about playing online poker only to have him tell me that that had indeed happened the previous night. I didn't believe him at first because: 1) he likes to mess with me and this was a perfectly easy way to do that. 2) he doesn't really text, like at all, so an unsolicited text message didn't seem like something that happened in reality. I checked. It totally happened. Now I don't know what is real or not. Maybe giant pink bunnies did try to steal my dog only to be thwarted by their inability to unlock the front door and make a clean getaway. Who knows?

Apparently all my brain power has now gone towards getting exicted/nervous about UT because I had to fill out a form that asked how old I am and I wrote down 26. Then I was like wait let me do the math, 2009-1982= 27. Nope, I'm not 27. I'm 26. Crap, how old am I?

Me: How old am I?
Kritsin: You are 27.

Me (in my head): dammit.

I don't know which is worse: That I have no idea how old I am or that I 100% did not believe the math.

GUESS WHAT!

Yesterday I got this:

Congratulations! You have been admitted to your first-choice major in the College Of Natural Sciences ( Undeclared/Prepharmacy ) at UT Austin.

And I'm totally excited. I've paid my enrollment fee and signed up for orientation.

In Case You Are Wondering

This right here is a perfect example of why I want sons.

Lady GaGa

Ok, so I don't "get" Lady GaGa. I understand that she is a celebrity and stuff but I think she takes that about 400 steps farther than necessary. I first saw her I believe at the Miss Universe pageant and I assumed that she was one of those weird totally techno european artists. I understood why I didn't understand her at that point, Europe is weird when it comes to music (hello Germany and David Hasselhoff). Then I found out that she was a born and bred American and I was back to not getting her at all.

THEN, I read this in a Consumerist article about I-Tunes

We looked at "Poker Face," the new hit from Eurovision winner Lady GaGa*, on both stores.

* correction: we have been told that transsexual recording artist Lady GaGa has never competed in a Eurovision competition.**

And my first thought was, "OOOOHHH, she is a transsexual, ok, that makes TOTAL sense. I get her now."

Then I kept reading

**correction: it turns out Lady GaGa is not a transsexual.

dammit. back to square one.