This is Why I'm Hott

When you have one of those days where

• (hypothetically) every ex you've ever had tries to contact you via every media platform ever available
• (hypothetically) your refrigerator breaks, 
• AND (hypothetically) your ice cream melts while you're at school preventing you from drowning your (hypothetical) ex-ridden sorrows with miniature Blue Bell ice cream cups

then, the way I see it, you have two (hypothetical) options:

1. Eat all 24 cookies from the pre-mixed and pre-sliced Nestle Tollhouse Chocolate Chip Cookie package. (Well 20 cookies and 4 cookie dough squares).

OR

2. Sweat it out like a bad a** in the gym.


On a scale from 1 cookie to 10 cookies, this (hypothetical) situation calls for a 20 cookie remedy.

HOWEVER, today, yes, Monday, December 3, 2012, I chose to be a bad a**.

Remarkable I know.

I, previously, made a totally awesome playlist to accommodate my (so far) 24 hour/lifestyle change.

Songs among this playlist:

• "You Need Me, I Don't Need You" by Ed Sheeran
• "I Knew You Were Trouble" by T Swift
• "Dirt Road Anthem" by Jason Aldean
• "The Way I Live" by Baby Bash
• AND "This is Why I'm Hot" by Mims

So I'm rocking out to "This is Why I'm Hot" on the elliptical, thinking of recipes involving ice cream soup, when I realize I'm running with the beat and and bobbing my head in an obnoxious I-think-I'm-the-coolest-person-ever way.

I look out the window and a gentleman just stood there looking through the window for no reason, at all. Obviously, this startled (or terrified) me and long story short...

I fell off the elliptical tangled in my earphones. The earphones, then, ripped out of the top of my iPhone and "This is Why I'm Hot" started blaring in the exercise room.

Needless to say, I received a couple head-nods from treadmill-guy, and stationary-bike guy, I assume only for my song choice.

Thank goodness for good-humored people.

Pepperoni Pizza Betrayal

It's no secret that I thoroughly enjoy Little Caesar's Pizza. 5 dollars and ready to go. There are very few things in life designed to be so immediately satisfying.

So delicious.

I do love me some LC Pepperoni Pizza and crazy bread. However, the franchise BETRAYED ME.

Yes, the entire franchise betrayed me.

Here is the story:

I'm hanging out with my cousin doing homework. For the purposes of this story we will define homework as the study of Goldfish, Diet Dr. Pepper, and watching Friends on DVD.

We decide to get food to accompany our homework and naturally we choose Little Caesar's. Upon our visit, the employee behind the counter was in training to run the cash register.

The trainer looked at me and then nudged the trainee and said, "soon you will know the regulars. Like this girl, she comes in all the time and gets a large pepperoni pizza."

WHAT A TRAITOR
She sold me out! Isn't there an expectation of discretion amongst the secret society of pepperoni pizza lovers?

Does she not take an oath? "I will never exploit the pepperoni pizza sized wholes in the stomachs of my customers by disclosing the number of times my parlor is frequented by them."

Now, I could tell you I am genuinely disturbed by this employee's lack of courtesy but I found the whole situation to be rather hilarious. Mostly the look on my cousin's face when I glanced at her wide eyed and shrugged my shoulders.

I LOVE PEPPERONI PIZZA AND I DON'T CARE.

Losing my mind.

*phone

I LOST MY PHONE FOR 6 HOURS.

I know?! How did I survive? It was really a close call.

No one I know would disagree that having a phone is important. (Nearly as important as most limbs on our bodies) How else would I beat my top score in Bubble Breaker? Or kick my friends' butts at Scramble With Friends? Or what if someone texts me and I don't respond!?!

Don't lie, we all have a similar inner dialogue when we lose our phone.

We start calmly searching. "Dang it, where did I put my phone? I know it's around here somewhere... Maybe I left it in my car... Okay... maybe its in the couch cushions... Okay, not under any of the furniture..."

Then, the panic sets in! "OH MY GOD, I left it at the restaurant/school/(any public place)"
*Call the restaurant*
"OH GOD THEY DON'T HAVE IT, SOMEONE STOLE IT. I'M GONNA HAVE TO BUY A NEW PHONE! I can't afford that, I need to buy clothes and drinks!!!"

*GET FLUSTERED*
*Look under all the furniture, again*

"oh... there it is."

I am extremely glad to have it reattached. It is a vital limb. I certainly would not care to make my pilgrimage to Norman, Oklahoma on Thursday without it. It would make reuniting with all my college friends difficult.

I feel weird saying "my college friends". In may, they were just "my friends". Now the situation requires the "college" qualifier in order to distinguish them from "my grad school friends".

Fancy, I know. (also, slightly pretentious, which is exciting)