Fondue for you? ... No, all for me!

Ate like a cow tonight... basically I drank a whole pot of fondue... it was delicious.

Okay, that was an exaggeration (the drinking the whole pot, not the deliciousness... it really was yummy), but you get the point.

So I ate a lot... more than my fair share of points for the day and was "dragged" out to the gym tonight afterwards. I'm glad I went, but now my butt is sore. Not because I worked out my butt, but because of sitting on the bike seat! Ouchies!

Tomorrow is weigh-in day. I haven't lost anything I'm sure. Like I said before, I ate poorly. I need to get my mind in gear when it comes to making more healthy decisions.

Oh, and looks like Jen and her bf Kris are going to be doing the Warrior Dash... sounds kind've fun, but also I'm terrified. I haven't signed up... but I'm kind've sort've maybe thinking about it. We'll see.

Also, I won $10 tonight playing Bunco. Yippee!

And... hello? disjointed thoughts, mindless rambling, and improper grammar galore in this post! I'm sorry you had to see such atrocities.

How does this... I don't even... It's just so... I'm at a loss

I have slowly been working on a blog post about taking a drug test for my new job, but the more I read it the less it seems as funny as it did the day it happened. Maybe I'll get to it later on, but for now, I'm leaving it alone for a while and instead I'll just tell you how the job is going now. :)

Okay wait... I'm not going to, instead can I please tackle the issue of this hair style that is popular for guys lately? Like... the past couple of years I've been noticing this hair style of having their hair swept forward, almost bangish like.... no who am I kidding... it's totally bangs. It's like they're trying to cover their foreheads. Like these:

Or like new teen pop sensation Justin Bieber:

Now I'm not saying that anyone of these young boys are unattractive... just that their hair is! (Well... I'll make an exception for that guy in the 2nd photo with the red in his hair... I hope he's over 18 because that guy is hot!) Anyway, moving on. I just don't understand this haircut for boys lately. I first noticed it while watching Two-A-Days on MTV in 2007. I think all but 2 of the guys showcased on the show had this swept-over-their-forehead look. I remember sitting there, with my friend Amanda, watching the show and we were just confused... when did this look become the fashion? We assumed it was just a mid-west thing... but slowly it crept over the nation and now it's THE LOOK for teenage boys.

I just have a feeling this is going to turn into one of those regretted hair styles... much like the bangs of the 80's:

The guy haircut is just too... emo? or something for me? I don't know... I just don't like it and I hope that if I ever have a son that this hairstyle is outdated at that point... *sigh*

That time when I unintentionally, intentionally hurt nature...

A little while ago, I left a comment over at Hyperbole and a Half (who by the way, is incredibly hilarious) in regards to her goose encounter. If you've never read her blog, then you must go NOW to that post and read that in the least. It is... I don't even know how to... it's just... Allie is funny and awesome and all of her greatness is visible in that post. Go now and read it... then come back here, please. Thanks!

Okay, so her post got me thinking about how I should just post my goose attack story here, unfortunately it's not nearly as funny as Allie's, so I hope you all read hers and maybe some residual hilarity will rub off on mine... so here it goes:

Unfortunately I don't remember the year, but it was over 10 years ago. (somewhere in either Junior High or High School) Stephanie was babysitting for her dad's co-worker, who also happened to live across the street from my house. She decided to take the little girl for a walk around the lake to feed the ducks with some bread and I tagged along. If I remember correctly, the little girl's name was Katie (... or something with a K sound... I'm not really sure now, but I'm going to call her Katie anyway), and she was probably 3ish? These are all useless details to you, but I want to remember this story forever, so I'm trying to be detailed for me here. Anyway, we packed Katie up into her stroller and headed to the lake.



It really is a gorgeous lake, isn't it? You can't tell from that picture, but it has a ton of ducks, geese, egrets, and other various fowl hanging out there. This photo is actually not terribly far from where the incident took place. Just around the bend, behind where this photo was taken, we stopped our walk and decided to feed a group of ducks and geese. A gaggle of geese? Is that what they're called? By the way, who the hell came up with gaggle? That is a terrible sounding word! Seriously. Say it out loud. Gaggle. It's an ugly word isn't it? Moving on... So we stopped to feed the birds. We threw the rest of our pieces of bread to them and realized we were out of bread. I think we may have even apologized to them. I frequently talk to animals, (in a completely sane, normal, non-Dr. Dolittle sort of way, of course) so it wouldn't surprise me if I said "That's it guys. No more for you today. Sorry! All gone" and waved my empty hands at them to show them that there was no more food. Oh, except I was carrying Katie, so I couldn't have waved my hands at them, could I? Hmm... Regardless, we were out of bread and were turning to walk away. I had picked up Katie and was walking away and Steph was pushing the stroller ahead of us on the path.

Now, let me explain something here real quick. I had lived near The Lake my whole life at that point. So I knew that the birds would follow you when you stopped feeding them. I knew it technically wasn't good to feed them, but I would do it on occasion anyway. I knew, from experience, that when you walk away the best method to get the geese to not follow you is to begin to walk away, then quickly turn and rush them aggressively. This confuses them, causes them to momentarily panic, and scatter. Then you can leave the area not being stalked/harassed by large, waddling, sometimes hissing, birds who are just trying to get their last bread-fix. You see, I knew all this. It is and has always been ingrained in my mind. I should have been more careful, but I was young and reckless, and holding a small child.

So, there I was, holding Katie, walking away from the gaggle (ugh) of geese completely unaware that there was a goose with a bread hunger that had gone unfulfilled. I was about to take a step, when the goose bit me. Let me say that again. I had been walking and was about to take another step, when the little bugger bit me! Do you know, what position your legs are in when you've been walking a couple steps and you're about to take another? Your legs are apart. In this case, my right foot/leg was forward, my leg foot/leg was back. Leaving my soft, fleshy, barely sees the light of day, inner thigh exposed! (I was wearing jeans, so it wasn't really "exposed" in that way, but you get my drift) The goose bit my inner thigh! I didn't even know his name and he was already trying to get to 3rd base!

I'm not sure what went through my head in the split second between being bit and the action my body took. It was pure instinct. I didn't think. I didn't even pause. I just acted. I actually didn't even know that there was a goose behind me. I just knew that something had pinched my thigh really hard and it hurt. A lot. So I did what came naturally.

I turned around swinging.

You know when a fly is buzzing around your head and you swat it at, sort've haphazardly with the back of your hand? Well, imaging doing that, but instead of a fly imagine a goose... and instead of your hand imagine using your whole arm. That's sort've what it was like. I unknowingly, back-handed the goose. I turned around rapidly, while yelling (It could have been "ouch." It could have been "hey." Whatever sound you make when you're caught by surprise in a painful way) with my arm stretched out and I hit something with it. Turns out... I had hit the goose. Okay, to be completely honest, I didn't just hit the goose. My arm caught the neck of the goose. I don't know how I happened to hit it in the exact location to send it flying back. I guess it bit me and then lifted it's head, which was unfortunate on its part. I just caught it perfectly to send it wings spread, reeling backwards toward the ground.

Actually... it sort've looked like this when I turned around (minus the pole sticking out of it's hoo-hah)...

Like I said, it had its wings spread and it was moving in a backwards motion because of the impact of my arm... not because it decided to back away slowly. In fact, its neck was sort've curved like that too. When I looked and saw what it was I had hit, I was shocked. Not so much shocked at the fact that a goose had just bit me, although I was a little surprised it happened to ME, but more so shocked that I had just unintentionally, intentionally hit something... and that something was a freaking goose!

At this point, Stephanie whipped around and was instantly concerned about what happened... to Katie. Now, I understand this. It's completely valid and responsible for her to be concerned about the small child that was entrusted into her care... except that at the time I was the one that was bit! She asked if Katie was okay and I think I may have said, "Yes! But I'm not!" She took Katie from me and I looked down to see if I was bleeding. Thankfully, there was no blood on my jeans, but my leg was still really hurting. I put pressure on it, to ease some of the pain, but I just wanted to go home and inspect my thigh in the privacy of my own bathroom.

That was the end of our walk around The Lake. We headed home, well I headed home and Stephanie headed across the street to Katie's home.

For reference, the goose wasn't a Canadian Goose. It was white with a black beak. I've never seen one like that around The Lake since. In fact, I have been searching the Internet for a picture of a similar goose, or at least a description of the specific breed of goose it might be, but I'm coming up with nothing.

In the end, all was okay. The goose didn't break any skin, but it did leave a bruise. :( That was the last day that I fed the birds at The Lake. But I think the geese fear me a little more now. They know I don't take any sh*t from them.

Now when I see geese around the lake, I get a little less this:

and a little more this:

The one where I cry because I want a burger and instead settle for a freezer-burned Popsicle.

Sometimes I think I have an illness. Like some sort of emotional retardation, and I think Hey, maybe that is why you're still single. Then I realize... no, it's just PMS.

I cried 3 times today. 3 whole times in a span of an hour... so maybe it was just one long cry with dry spells in between?

So, generally speaking, right before I start my period I get very emotional. (Oh, was I supposed to warn you before I said something like that? Oh, oops. My bad.) Very emotional. As in, I cry over nothing. (Literally and figuratively) I might cry because nothing is happening in my life or I might cry because I can't decide if I want my bed to be put up on risers while it is in my "new" bedroom. Today it was the later reason.

You see, my sister moved out (Yay sister! So proud of you for taking the big move-in-with-a-man leap.) to go live with her FIANCEE. Yes, my sis got engaged. Woo! Go sis! I capitalized fiancee because I constantly still call him her boyfriend which is both incorrect and annoying to those who catch my error. Anyway, so she moved out and I moved into her room. I moved not because it's larger than my room, which it totally is and how did I not notice this until it was pointed out to me just days ago?!, but because my mother wants to remove the popcorn ceiling in my room, paint it, and paint the walls as she did to most of the rest of the house years ago. We literally moved the last of my sister's big stuff out on Monday. I mean she's been moving out for a while now, but we had to wait until it was dry to move her bed and entertainment center so we could use the truck. Why am I explaining this? You don't care. Anyway, on Monday my mom immediately started moving my stuff into "Sis' room"... I think I'll forever call it her room... even though none of her stuff is in here now. Last night I slept on my mattress in my room, while nearly everything else was in the other room. It was weird. I had to go into her room to get dressed today because that's where my dresser was.

Tonight though... well... tonight it's going to be strange to sleep in here. I mean, I've totally slept in here before. I actually have memories of being in a crib in my sister's room. I would stand up in my crib and... wait... have I mentioned this here before? Ugh. I totally have. Sorry about that.

Wow, I have strayed far away from what I was saying at first. Well... I had to decide today if I wanted my bed up on risers, as it was in my room, or not while my bed is in the "other bedroom." I'm only going to be in here for 2 weeks or so while we finish my room... maybe longer if I like it in the bigger room... but that decision brought me to tears and I think I may have frightened both of my parents. I know it shouldn't be a hard decision, but I got to thinking about how when sister's bed was in here, the dog would climb up on it and maybe, just maybe if I don't have risers the dog will feel good enough (she's got arthritis) to jump up on MY bed and snuggle with me like she used to when I had a futon. But then I realized that my bed even without the risers is still taller than sister's bed because her box spring is thinner than mine and I realized that dog probably won't jump on my bed anyway because she has a hard time jumping up on her favorite couch as it is now. AND if I don't put it up on risers then where would I put the things that I have stored under my bed?! Only a couple of the things that I currently have under it will still fit if I don't use the risers. AND I was hungry and didn't want to make that decision. So, all those things were going through my head and my mom wanted a decision right there and there, and my emotional PMS monster reared its ugly head and I broke down and cried. Now mind you, I wasn't a sobbing mess, (that came later while I was in the car, talking to my sister and my best friend, parked in the neighborhood where my other best friend will potentially be moving to in a couple months... I'll get to that...) but I was crying.

This is where the burger comes into play. It was at that moment that I realized that I'm hungry and I've been on my period for 2 days now and I haven't yet had grease. I know that sounds strange, but I CRAVE anything greasy the first day of my period. Suddenly ALL I WANTED WHAT A MOTHER F-ING CHEESEBURGER. But, today I had a weigh-in, and I didn't want to ruin any progress I may have made, so I knew I couldn't/shouldn't have one... I searched the house for something to eat, but I knew if I ate something I would still have that craving and it would haunt me. I was going to make a sandwich, but suddenly the bread that we had, multi-grain with those little annoying grain seeds in it, was disgusting to me. I was going to have some leftover lasagna, but that didn't sound good either. So, after frantically searching the house (actually... I was totally meandering through the kitchen and garage, walking slower than normal because I was sad), I started crying yet again. I wanted that cheeseburger, but I knew my parents would remind me that I didn't need it, that I had a weigh-in later, and that there are plenty of other things to eat in the house. But had they said any of that, all I would have heard would be YOU'RE FAT! Of course they wouldn't have said that, but that doesn't matter, that's all I would have heard... so I continued to cry. Until I saw the freezer-burned Popsicle in the freezer and I ate it. That helped. A little.

Then my mom and I got in an argument over moving something out of my closet and into the closet in the other room and I lost it. 45 minutes later I was in the car, with Burger King next to me, crying on the phone with my sister, while it was pouring rain outside, sitting in front of a stranger's house. I had decided that I needed that cheeseburger more than I needed a good number on the scale, so I left. I also needed out of the house. So while I got food I decided to try and find the house my friend bought. I found it and I was going to call her to make sure I had found it, when my phone rang. It was sister. The first thing out of her mouth is, "You got fast food for dinner?! We have to weigh-in tonight" and I lost my shit. I really did. I went from happy-go-lucky-I'm-going-to-call-my-friend-to-see-if-this-is-the-right-house (albeit a little ashamed of having Burger King in the car), to suddenly yelling and crying hysterically. My sister was able to calm me down and I drove home. When I got home, my another dear, dear friend called and she made me giggle, which I totally needed. Since then, I've been fine.

My numbers on the scale didn't reflect any change from the original weigh-in, but I still have time to show change, and at least now I have no cold, I feel great emotionally, and I no longer have a craving. WIN!

...

Does God even make a man strong enough to deal with that? I hope so.

In the Air

Okay, so these is a large lady sitting next to me on the plane. I'd guess her to be about 280-300 pounds depending on her muscle content. No matter her weight, she was large enough that she did not have the arm rest down when I first got to my seat. I didn't know if she didn't have it down because it wouldn't have been comfortable for her or if she just didn't know it was there. (She definitely wasn't Delta savvy, as I later found out, so it's hard to make a guess on how flight savvy she was.) I was concerned that the arm rest wasn't down because it wouldn't be comfortable for her as she was already spilling over onto my seat, so I just left it up. Ordinarily I would have put it down, but I figured I would be nice in this case and let her decide. After I settle in (get my book out and put my backpack under the seat in front of me) I offer her some gum. (I find it helps my ears adjust during take-off and landing) She accepts and we just wait for the take-off. She makes no motion to put the arm rest down.

Each seat has its own video display on the back of the headrest, so I begin to fiddle with it a little bit after the safety video and take-off. It was sort've hard to navigate at first since I'd never used one before, but I'm usually pretty good about figuring things out. My neighbor's husband (presumably) is telling her how she can turn on the reading light if she needs it by touching a button on the display and then touching the reading light button. She finally gets it and the light goes on... I'm used to this, planes usually have your reading light above the other person, but angled so that it shines down on you... only thing is with our row some wires seem to have gotten crossed because the light above me didn't go on, the light above her went on and shined down on me! She turns it off and tries it again, same thing. I tried my light button and sure enough, the light above my head turns on and shines down on her. Okay, mental note: Wait until you're above the clouds to read your book, because you'd have to ask your neighbor to turn on the light if you want to read otherwise. (I may have made a joke to her about that or said something along the lines of, let me know if you want to read something.) For some reason, she tries the light for a 3rd time... okay lady, clearly it's not going to work as it should, just give it up.

I started fiddling with the touch screen, saw that I'd have to pay for the movies or HBO series, decided against those. I saw there was some satellite TV, but I didn't have my headphones out yet so I couldn't hear anything. The lady sitting next to me didn't have any headphones either, but that didn't stop her from watching CNN. When we got to cruising altitude, I reached down and got out my iPod and headphones, I had planned to just listen to music and read, but I thought I'd try and see if maybe there was something good on the TV first. I plugged my headphones into the armrest (I was in a window seat, so mine plugged into the one between me and the window, not the arm rest that was still up.) and flipped through the TV channels. There wasn't much I felt like watching, so I decided to check out the radio stations... I couldn't get any of those to work, there was just NO sound. I fiddled with the volume even though I could hear the TV fine, but just couldn't get the radio to work. At this point it was like the airplane knew how to calm me down. I think it was trying to say, chill... your suitcase is fine, the lady next to you is nice, and you don't really want to listen to the radio... just try to relax, there's nothing you can do about it now anyway. You see, I didn't get a chance to update my iTunes and iPod for the trip and I was curious about Miley Cyrus' album. The airplane had tons of CDs to listen to and Miley's CD was one of them to choose from! YAY! I got to listen to it without having to buy it, so it was my saving grace. And Halo by Beyonce helped calm me down.

Most of the rest of the flight was uneventful, except 2 things stand out in my mind. First, the lady next to me bought headphones from the stewardess, but then couldn't figure out where to plug them in at, so I told her they were on the arm rest that was up. I wasn't sure if she was still going to leave the arm rest up and just plug them in there, or if she was going to lower it to put her headphones in. She lowered it about halfway, plugged them in and then went back to the screen... I was shocked! This was really not comfortable! Finally when she settled on something to watch, she lowered the arm rest all the way *whew*... unfortunately this sort've squeezed her in the seat a little more, so her thigh kind've billowed out towards me and I needed to squeeze a little more towards the window so I wouldn't feel like I was sitting on her.

The second thing that stands out towards me is that we were totally skipped from the steward when they came around to see if anyone wanted anything to drink. This was the second time they passed through, since it was a long flight. I had an empty cup and a half filled cup of water. She had an empty cup. I don't know what the people in the row next to us had, but our whole row was completely skipped. They asked the people in front of us and the people behind us, but not us. The lady turns to me and says, what's wrong with us? Why skip us?! I had no idea what to say to her, I was just as dumbfounded. Her husband ended up getting up and asking the steward for 2 ginger ales (one for her and one for me... how nice!). I thanked them both. When the steward came with our drinks he claims that he saw our cups and thought we had drinks... umm... too bad the empty cups had TRASH IN THEM, so they are CLEARLY drink-less! Granted, I had some water in a cup on my tray, my neighbor didn't! Anyways, it was a harmless mistake that got rectified, so no harm there. The rest of the flight was fine, listening to music, sometimes watching TV, and generally just being squished up against the window. :)

Then, we landed in Atlanta. It was easy enough to look up and see I needed to go to terminal D (can't remember if they call them terminals there of if there is another name for them at the Atlanta airport), so I followed the crowd downstairs to the tram and got off at D, made my way back upstairs and headed to my gate... which happened to be the furthest one... of course! Oh! I didn't mention that I stopped to pee after I got off the flight. I bring this up because the Atlanta airport is SOOOO CLEAN!! It was amazing. Like seriously, you could totally eat in the bathroom and not be grossed out... well... except for just knowing that you're eating in a bathroom... but it's the cleanest public restroom I've ever been in. Seriously in the airport there were people cleaning up everywhere. It's like, oh, someone threw something in the trash bin, time to change the bag! Okay, maybe not that fast, but still very clean. So, I make it down to my gate and don't see my flight listed, so I go to the screens and see they've changed my gate, to one I've already walked by... of course! I make my way to the new gate and go sit down when some people get up to board the flight before mine. That's when I meet a sweet old lady!

She was so nice and very chatty I might add. She was heading to Texas from North Carolina for her... get this... her 55TH HIGH SCHOOL REUNION!!!! So, I'm not kidding when I say "old lady." She said that last she heard, 300 people had RSVP'd.

...to be continued...

Halloween Week

The Thursday before Halloween, I went with Jennifer to the Pirates of Emerson, The Haunting Fields in Fremont. We had a blast. It was really fun to go with just the 2 of us because we didn't get to "hide" as often from the people trying to scare us. It made it more scary and more fun. What I learned is that if I can find something scary humorous, it becomes way less scary. Case in point: We decided on the next attraction based on the length of the line... meaning there was absolutely no one in line so we decided to go to the main Pirates of Emerson attraction. There was this spooky guy crouching down like Quasimodo or something at the end of a long hallway when we first entered and Jennifer says, "How long have you been there for? There was no one in line. You've been waiting a while haven't you?" (or something to that affect) I couldn't help but laugh and so he became more funny than scary when he scurried off. We caught up to him again later and I still laughed. Also in the Gordello (the haunted Brothel attraction) I told one of the dead hookers that Jennifer called her a slut and she laughed and said that she knows my voice and knew it was me and not her. Then later Jennifer yelled "SLUTS!" at a couple girls and one of them was like "WHORES, honey! We're whores." It was so hilarious!!

Now this is not to say that I wasn't still scared sh*tless in these haunted mazes/houses. I was scared twice by one witchy monster thing in one attraction. I yelled back at her that it wasn't fair for her to scare me once I left the room she was in. Also at the end of the Pirates of Emerson attraction this guy came out of no where and roared or something. I was walking behind Jen and I jumped and may have pushed her a little or something I don't remember, but she turned around, saw the guy and took off running. I TRIED to run away but couldn't!! There was some sort've wavy/moving wooden bridge like thing that I kept tripping on. I screamed from the guy scaring me at first and then I was yelling because Jennifer left me!! and I couldn't escape. I ended up running out of the house like a freak. I swear I probably looked like I was doing one of those tires-on-the-ground exercise thingies with my legs and feet flailing all over the place and not running in a straight line. That darned bridge thing was almost the death of me.

So, as you can see... I had a blast.

Then the next night, Friday, I went with Dawn and Veronica and 5 of their other friends to the Sharks game and then to a bar in San Jose to celebrate Dawn's birthday. The Sharks won (YAY!) and I again... had a blast. Since it was the day before Halloween at this point, there were lots of people in costume at the game. At one point they put someone in a Waldo costume up on the Jumbo-tron and it became like a mission for a couple of us to try to find Waldo in the crowd. Eventually we found him and all had a good laugh. There was this little boy sitting with his family in front of us. I swear his mom was regretting bringing him tot he game after they left. He kept wanting to interact with us and basically was only half paying attention to the game. He gave each one of use high fives and fist bumps and kept asking him mom if he was allowed to have the candy that some of the people were having. He tried to play a form of patty cake with Veronica and at one point we think he might have looked up the skirt of one of Veronica's friends. The kid was like 8 or something.

After the game we went to the Britannia Arms, which is only about 2 or so blocks away from the HP Pavilion. (By the way, I hadn't heard of this place before and when Dawn first mentioned it I was like "who is that?" HAHAHA!) There was this one guy who dressed up as JT's "dick in a box" and I asked him to take a picture with Dawn since he was you know... holding a present... and we were out for Dawn's birthday after all! Anyway, it turns out he had some sort've giant blow up penis in his box and he started to inflate it for the picture. The giant pink blow up thing had huge eyes and a grin at the end of it. We all had a good laugh at that. Once I upload the photo onto my laptop I'll edit the post and add it in.

And finally on Halloween, Jennifer had a Birth-o-ween Party. I made her a Dragon Birthday cake because it was Halloween. Nick had the bright idea to put "Jenzilla" on the side of the cake, so I did that. Her party was a costume party, so I dressed up as.... Victoria from Twilight! I think it turned out pretty good. My hair wasn't quite up to par with her hair, but I did the best I could with what I've got (meaning my thin dark hair). My sister sprayed the color in for me and her and my mom pinned in leaves, which I thought gave it a nice touch. :) As with the Dick in a Box photo, I'll post my Halloween costume photo later.

I was surprised to see Jefferey Sam at the party. I haven't seen him since high school I think. I didn't get to chat with him as much as I would have liked. I was all hyped up on energy from my busy end-of-week and then we played beer pong in the garage so I was getting tipsy. I ended up leaving Jen's around 3 am... which really was more like 4 because we turned the clocks back. I got home, removed my make up, put my orange hair in a high pony tail and went to bed. I was so tired that there was no way I could spend the time to wash all the spray out of my hair at 4am! I decided that my pillowcase was going to take one for the team and I'd just wash it later. :)

I ended up waking up the next day at 4pm! Apparently my body needed rest after all that stuff!

...I just punched myself in the face...

WTF self? How could you punch me? What did I ever do to you?! I mean yeah, I might try to fill you with crappy, but delicious, food and I might have missed a couple work outs, but you don't have to be so aggressive about it.

So I guess I was really tired tonight. Sleep deprivation likes to creep up on me sometimes. As I was waking up, from a "nap," I wiped the sleepies from my eyes (okay, maybe you don't call them sleepies, but doesn't that sound so much better than something like "eye crust"), stretched, and promptly knocked myself on the jaw.

I either wasn't awake enough to control the function of my arm and just let gravity pull it back down towards the bed (and thus my face), or I'm angry with myself subconsciously and decided to knock some sense into myself. I'm inclined to believe the later. Besides, if it was the former, then I'd have to be mad at gravity for taking part in the abuse and I can't have a grudge against gravity lest it find out and decide to reek even more havoc on me. Can you imagine? I'd be walking along and then WHAM! HELLO GROUND! because gravity got the sudden urge to exert its full potential on me without warning? No thank you!