Frozen soy milk

That’s what you get when you don’t realize your fridge is set on “Arctic.”

Here’s a fun mental image for you. The showerhead in this new apartment has four large holes around its perimeter that look as though they would have great water pressure. Alas, I was not lucky enough to find out whether or not this is true because the only water I experienced came in a light mist, except of course, for the very thin stream of water that had so much water pressure that I’m pretty sure it drew blood. So there I am trying to rotate the showerhead in hopes that it was just on the “Incredibly Irritating” setting and move it to the “Soothing Waterfall” setting. But that’s somewhat hard to do when you’re five feet tall and can’t quite reach said showerhead without getting that one Super Soaker-strength water jet right in your eye. I am surprised I didn’t fall down.

Why is it that every picture of Hillary Clinton I see she looks as though someone is either goosing her or she has just seen Alex Trebek riding a mechanical bull with a tiara on his head? Seriously. The woman needs to take the level of facial emotion down about 32 notches. No one is that happy about running for President.

Is Huckabee really still in the running? Are you kidding me? One of the London newspapers had a list of all the celebrities endorsing the candidates and Huckabee was the only one with a lone mention – Chuck Norris. That is sign Numero Uno that it’s time to throw in the towel.

I have learned something today. And not something crappy that I’ll just forget in 48 hours…something awesome. Maybe you all know this already and I’m just that much behind the rest of the world, but whatever, better late than never. Charles Dickens was in the middle of writing a book called The Mystery of Edwin Drood when he died. The kicker is that he set up this amazing plot with a cast of colorful characters, but no one knows how it ends because he dropped dead before he could finish it. Tonight I saw a musical/play that told the story of what he DID write and then, much like Shear Madness in Boston, the audience voted for who we thought was the culprit based on clues Dickens had given in the first part of the book. But can you imagine how frustrating this is? All this setup – one character who only made one appearance leading the reader to believe he would play a key part later in the book, a character who is thought to be a previous character in disguise whose real identity is never revealed, and a murder (or was it merely a disappearance) victim – all of whose outcomes will never be known! Arg! I’m in agony!

I ate McDonald’s tonight.