Shakespeare fail!

I just saw this written on Facebook: "To thy known self be true."

If you don't understand why that's funny, I'm sorry. I won't be able to help you. Actually, I can help. Stick with "Be yourself."

My roommate just texted me...from the other room.

It seems like everyone and their grandmother has unlimited text messaging these days. I don't. As a result, I don't send or respond to extraneous text messages. I have an example. Let's say you thank me in a text. That's very nice, so I respond with "You're welcome. :)" Don't respond with a smiley! You're welcome. :) does not require a reply! How about when people send paragraphs worth of text messages, one right after the other? If you have that much to say, don't you think you should call me? Text messages are a commodity!

Last Monday my friend Laura expressed how frustrated she was by my restricted texting. She offered to pay for me to get an upgraded text message plan! I thought this was a hilarious joke, but then I realized she was serious. Before taking her up on her generous offer, however, I needed to find out the catch. "Does this mean I have to respond to every single one of your texts?" I asked her. She confirmed my suspicion so I had to decline.


As the end of each billing period draws near, I check my text usage and remaining allotment. Imagine my surprise later that day when--just one week before my new billing cycle--I learned I had hundreds of unused texts! I immediately texted Laura.

Panthea: I have 500 texts to use before next Monday so fire away with the texts.
Laura (in separate messages): Yayyyyyy! Haha that
Laura: Makes
Laura: My
Laura: Day!!
Laura: :) he he he

On Friday I updated her on my messaging status.

Panthea: Hurry! I have 200 texts left until Sunday!
Laura: O sweet tell me about every detail of ur day so far

So I did. She loved it.

This is how rumors get started.

I love my internship at Agency XYZ, which provides clinical mental health services to people living with severe and persistent mental illnesses.

Today, a sweet female member of the program pulled me aside and told me she'd been feeling dizzy and faint earlier in the day. I expressed concern and asked her to inform her primary care physician, whom she has an appointment with this upcoming Monday. "It's probably nothing serious, but tell your doctor just in case," I explained.

"Aww, you don't have to be worried about me," she reassured me, patting my arm. "You're like a mother hen. You'll make a good mother." This woman has melted my heart a few times, and this was one of them.

Suddenly, I heard another female member's voice shoot out from behind me. "Panthea, you're pregnant?"

I spun around on my heel, snorting out a laugh. "No!"

"Oh, good. Your education is important."

Sound advice. Thank you.

I'm not supposed to say I hate cats.

My roommate, Haley, has a very vocal, very needy cat. In fact, I would even go so far as to say this cat should probably consider seeking professional help for her codependent tendencies. This cat has an annoying, pathetic, raspy, forlorn meow. Something bad happened to this cat in a past life and she's still torn up about it. Anyway, when she gets into one of her meowing kicks, I sometimes meow back, as obnoxiously as I am able.

"Mmmrrrrwwwwooowww...mreowww-ow-ow-owww." The cat taunts.

"Mrrrrrrrrrrrrwwwooowwwwwwwwwwwwww!" I retort passionately, daring her to out-meow me.

We were playing this game just now, as I was tagging pictures on Facebook from Haley's and my recent cruise. As I became engrossed in the meticulous process of tagging, I stopped responding to the cat's cries. She must have gotten bored too, because she soon fell silent. Suddenly, the silence was broken with a particularly piercing meow.

From the other bedroom came an angry accusation. "Was that you or her?!" Haley was apparently over this little meowing game I had going with her cat.

"It was her! I swear!" I pleaded in defense.

"No, it's not! That was human!"

"It wasn't me! I haven't meowed for, like, a whole minute!"

I really shouldn't be meowing in the first place. We humans speak. If you ask a toddler, "What sound does a cat make?" the response will be "meow." If you ask a toddler what sound a human makes, I don't know what the answer would be, but it definitely wouldn't be "meow."

My meowing days are over.

My brain eez not good for mat.

Here's a collection of random things that made me laugh. Enjoy!

From time to time I check the traffic statistics for my blog. Somehow, someone found my blog by searching for "baby chimpanzee born in 2011." Sorry, dude. You have the wrong chimp. This chimpanzee was born in 1988.

Me: "My blog has only had 2,600 page views."
Mom: "In 5 years?"
Me: "1 year."
Mom: "26,000 eez a lot."
Me: "It's 2,600."
Mom: "Vut's anodder zero?"
Me: "Another zero is a difference of 18,000."
Mom, after a pause: "Your mat eez not good."
Me: "My mat?"
Mom: "Mat!"
Me, confused: "What mat?"
Mom: "Your brain...eez not good for mat."
Me: "Oh, math! Yeah, you're right. It would be a difference of 20,000."
My calculator has informed me that I'm still wrong.

One of my classmates asked this question during class: "Isn't it illegal to smoke weed while driving?"
Yes, and it's also illegal to smoke weed while not driving.


At my pharmacy job: "Good afternoon, XYZ Pharmacy."
"Hi, do you fill prescriptions there?"
Hmm...

A customer asked the pharmacist if there was any drug that could help reduce coughing caused by smoking cigarettes. "I can't ask my doctor because he'll just tell me to stop smoking," the customer explained. If you smoke, you won't find this funny.

My dad, misreading a menu: "Jalapeno pepper poopers."
That doesn't sound appetizing.

Watching the National Dog Show on Thanksgiving: "You know why the carpet's not green?" my dad asked, chuckling. Get it?

My mom looked at me and started laughing. "I vuz just tinking...if your arm vuz a buffalo ving, it vould be de juicy plump part." See also: Shit My Mom Says.

That's Irby on top. Daisy's the little one.

My mom shrieked, "Daisy peed in my closet!"
"How do you know it was Daisy?" I asked.
She replied, annoyed, "I deedn't pee, deed you?!"
"No..." I frowned slightly, furrowed my brows, and shook my head. "I mean, how do you know it wasn't Irby?"
"Oh! Heh, heh! Because eet vuz just a leedle bee of pee." (translation: a little bit of pee)

My body woke up earlier than my mind.

I kept hitting the snooze button on my alarm today. I was tired! Sometimes I cut a deal to encourage myself to get out of bed in the morning when I'm still sleepy. Self, I think to myself, If you get out of bed now, you can take a nap later. Deal!

It was later than I'd anticipated when I finally got out of bed. I set up the Keurig to brew a cup of coffee while I brushed my teeth. It was almost 8:10. It takes me 20 minutes to drive to my internship--I was on the verge of being late! I didn't have time to put on any make up. I grabbed my coffee and my cosmetic bag and ran out the door. My heel caught the hem of my pants and I nearly tripped as I ran down the stairs outside my apartment. I almost just died!, I jokingly thought to myself.

While driving, I remembered that I had to pick up a newspaper for a current events group I facilitate. I figured I would stop at a deli that's just around the corner from my internship to buy the paper. It might delay me by--what? A minute? As I got closer to the deli, I saw that it was shuttered. A "For Lease" sign was on the window. Ugh! I'd definitely be late if I turned around and went to 7-Eleven in the opposite direction! Oh well. I'll just have to use some of my lunch time to go buy a paper, I grudgingly concluded.

I pulled into the parking lot at my internship just barely in time at 8:27. The parking lot was nearly empty. That's weird. I looked at the clock again. It's almost 8:30! Where is everyone?!

Then it hit me. Work starts at 9. I've been there for three months now. It always starts at 9.

So there!

As I type this, I'm somewhere in New Jersey, driving about 60 miles per hour. Well, I'm not the one driving but "riding" 60 miles per hour doesn't sound right. The bus I'm on from New York to northern Virginia has WiFi ("wife-ee" or "wee-fye" as my mom calls it). I know, my thoughts exactly; technology is awesome.

Enough background information. Let me get to the point. Of the fifty-plus people aboard this bus, I think the bus driver and I are the only ones wearing our seat belts. If you're like me, you're thinking to yourself, "Every seat on that bus has a seat belt? That's awesome!" If you're like most people, you're wondering why I bothered with this silly life-saving contraption.

Remember when some cars had seat belts that you never had to unbuckle? The seat belt would move away from across your chest when you opened the door. (Thinking back on it, maybe that wasn't such a good idea. If the door were to fly open during the crash...well, there goes my seat belt with it!) Anyway, my mom had one of those cars. I remember nothing about the car other than it had those seat belts. This is just my hypothesis, but I think the way that car automatically buckled me up every time I sat down conditioned me to appreciate that buckled-up sense of security.

As soon as I get into my car I shut the door, engage the locks, and put on my seat belt. I fasten my seat belt before I even put the key in the ignition. Let's say I'm just getting in my car to change parking spots. I still automatically put on my seat belt. (I don't know why I'd randomly decide to change parking spots. I just couldn't think of a good example. Feel free to offer suggestions.) Let's say someone else is driving. They park, turn off the car, and run into the store while I wait. At no point would the thought of unbuckling my seat belt cross my mind. In the past I've occasionally gone to my car between classes to take a power nap. Yep... Seat belt on.

I just love seat belts. I can't get enough. So that's weird bus/car/motor-vehicle-with-a-seat-belt habit number one.

This brings me to weird bus behavior number two. I took a nap in the beginning of this bus ride. Before falling asleep, I put my coat on backwards--Snuggie style--so it would act as a blanket (normal). I also pulled the hood up over my face (bordering on weird...or definitely weird). Here's the thing. The overhead lights are off. Every single individual reading light on the bus is also off...except for the one belonging to the girl in the seat directly in front of me. (In her defense, she is in fact reading.) Now, I don't know if I have abnormally thin eyelids or if I have a melatonin deficiency, but even a tiny amount of light negatively impacts my sleep. That's why I wore my coat and hood backwards.

I don't care if I look like the shady misanthrope on the bus (every bus has at least one) with my seat belt, backwards coat, and hood covered face. You know why? Because I'm warm, I was able to take a delightful power nap without the overhead lights inhibiting my melatonin production, and if this bus crashes the driver and I will be able to unbuckle our seat belts and run to safety. The rest of these people will be SOL.

Panthea Antheia

My roommates and I were talking about our Halloween costumes today. We're all dressing up as goddesses. One of my roommates is dressing up as a specific Hindu goddess who has blue skin, four arms, and a necklace made of human heads.

Wow, I thought to myself. My generic Greek goddess idea is woefully uninspired. Unfortunately, the only Greek goddesses I could think of off the top of my head were Aphrodite and Athena. I bet all the girls who want to be a unique goddess choose to be one of those two. Google to the rescue! I looked up "Greek goddesses" and began skimming lists of every goddess imaginable. (There's a virgin goddess of childbirth? Really? Who came up with that and thought it made sense?)

I discovered something unbelievable. Google, you are amazing! How have I gone 23 years without knowing there's a Greek goddess of flowers named Antheia?! And I found out just in time for Halloween! All I have to do is add flowers to my generic uninspired costume and tada! Instant creativity! (Every sentence in this paragraph ends with an exclamation point! Even this one!)

"Hi, my name is Panthea and I'm dressed as Antheia. No, I'm not making this up."

Perfect!

Who should I see to address this issue?

It's ten degrees* above freezing. This should be illegal. We must lobby Congress.

*Fahrenheit. I have no concept of Celcius other than water freezes at 0 and boils at 100.

I was born a baby chimpanzee.

I didn't think it was possible, but I'm pretty sure I'm getting hairier.

Those laser hair removal Groupons are becoming very appealing.