Fog o' Dusk

This is our first live action blog (though it is not actually live, but we would like it to be), so you should all be very happy about it. It is also the reuniting of us from our solo blogs.

Iowa is false because gas is so cheap.

Why is that false, Katie?

I don't know.

There is so much reunitionism here that there is another person here with us (note: In line with the Credit where Credit is Due Honor Code, our mystery guest did in fact coin the term "Reunitionism").

That sounds like a religion. I'm a reunitionist.

Who could this person be?

A mystery.

Before we get into that, we must lay down some ground rules. First, we are on our way to Minnesota. That is why this is a kind of live action blog. The action is our trip and the live is that we are typing on the way.

Secondly, there will be a mystery for you to solve.

Third rule, there will be no comma splices.

I'm not even sure I know what a comma splice is.

Hush, mystery guest. We have to introduce you first.

Didn't you kind of introduce me when you announced a mystery guest?

Not officially. All right, are we done with the rules?

Um, well, I guess so.

We just entered Story County, and I thought it was Story Country.

We should interrupt with a story, since it is a live action blog.

Oh, and now this story from the life of our mystery guest.

Oh, what story should I tell?

About your foot injury.

Which one? All two of them? Shall I start chronologically or start with the most recent?

Least to most traumatic.

How many stories do you have?

Two.

Plus, a possible broken pinky toe.

I can't even tell if I broke it.

That can be part of the mystery. That's the nature of the foot, that you can't even tell if your toes are broken.

Katie, you talk so much more when we have a third person.

That is because I'm usually just home from work, and you just sit there and talk to yourself. And then pass the computer to me. We blog in silence.

Perhaps you should have guest bloggers more often.

We don't blog in silence.

I know, but sometimes in moments we do. You type and then I type and then we laugh at what each other said.

We are two miles from Ames.

So close. You should tell them about Taco Time.

We need some facts. Do you have facts?

It is apparently delicious. Perhaps we should go to Taco Time and gather facts, and a burrito.

Is it time for your second dinner?

You have second dinners?

I do when I stop at Taco Time.

You don't even know if Taco Time is good.

I do know it is good. It's been recommended.

He's trusting of his sources.

You just gave a clue of something about our mystery guest.

We shall pause. Good bye.

Taco Time Trash. That is what we have. We successfully found and visited Taco Time in Ames, Iowa, as was recommended to our mystery guest by a coworker. (note: The food was not trash at Taco Time, just the wrappings from our food were trash. Clarification. There we go.)

Tell them how delicious it is. We think there is one in Kuwait. I looked it up online, and we think there is one there.

That is crazy. I didn't know it was that popular.

It is so popular.

Are there only two Taco Times?

It seems like it would be a chain.

Nope, just Kuwait and Ames.

Thank you for taking us to Taco Time, Katie.

Did you want me to blog your thankfulness?

Yes.

Maybe on the way back we can go to The Flying Burrito. Which is similar to Chipotle.

How do you spell burrito?

B-u-r-r-i-t-o.

Don't you have spell check?

Yes, but I'm just asking.

It is so much more fun to pretend to have our own Spelling Bee.

Story City!

We need another story, or the first story.

We need the story of the damaged foot!

I don't know which one to tell.

Ready, pick one, go:

I don't know how to response to this situation.

This is what blogging is all about.

You have to be cool and quick under pressure.

“Under pressure. . . ”

So, I work at Quik Trip--

Another clue!

So, sometimes when I work at the warehouse north of the river, I break down pallets--

Pallets?

Wooden skids.

I'm sorry but I don't think clarifies anything.

It does if you know the lingo.

So, these pallets include rusty nails, and I'm breaking down a pallet, and a rusty nail stabs my foot. And it hurt and bled.

Did you scream?

Kind of like a little girl.

Katie's Corner (on the driver's side of the car):

Well, every time I change lanes, a ginormous green blinker comes on.

How do you spell ginormous?

Sorry, ginormous is an overstatement. It's about the ratio of large print to regular print.

We are 187 miles from Minneapolis.

Now I have to find the 8 and 7 on the computer.

They are right by each other.

It is dark!

Is it too hard?

Upcoming Events:

Saturday, July 26^th of 2008--

Katie and Steve will be attending a wedding.

Amanda and the mystery guest will be doing some exciting things around Minneapolis that are adventurous.

Any final words?

Final words sound so threatening.

It's not like your last meal.

I would like to speak again.

You may, you may.

results request

hello my dear roommate.

well, you may have thought this day would never come. But in fact it is now here. This is the day that I write my first solo blog. You may be shocked to find out that you are sitting right next to me as I blog this. But then again who knows. You might turn around and talk to me before I finish this in which case you will see what I am doing. Actually I can see what you are doing since I am sitting behind you and you are looking at information for your new online schooling. By the way when is that going to start? I wish you the best of luck. Sometimes class can be fun! (there might even be prizes, who knows). Okay probably no prizes, and I will not promise you any because we all know how I am about coming through with prizes I have offered. I don't quite understand what you like about taking a class without getting to see any people, but you love it so congratulations.
Now on a very important subject. There have been many rumors and accusations flying around about our future living situation. Well all of those rumors and accusations are true. soon we will no longer live together. I will not go into my feelings on this matter, for I don't want to dampen any good mood any reader might happen to be in while reading this. I will keep all discussion purely focused on the blog. I am trying to predict the change this may have on our blogging habits. I am afraid to say that it might make it worse. But then again the good news is that we could not possibly blog any less than we do now and still call ourselves bloggers. even though i am pretty sure i have never called you a blogger before, you never know when I may decide to start. But maybe, since I will never see you anymore, our entire friendship will be reduced to writing. I don't know how far mental picture texts can go. For now though I will choose to live in denial. I will blog only on the rarest of occasion, because I will always see you so often.
now that we have settled that I would like to talk about upcoming events. We are about to set out for a nice road trip. We will be leaving Friday after work and returning on Sunday. There will be so much fun and adventure I can't even begin to describe it all here. So I won't even bother trying. Just be ready to hold on to your hat. If you don't have a hat, you better get one.
There is just one last issue to address. What's the deal about promising ice cream if people don't like the blog? it just seems a little backwards to me. Ice cream seems more fun than that. that is all, good bye.
(by the way if you wonder about the title, it is what I most commonly use as a subject for work emails, and I just sort of typed it and then left it).

A letter:

Dear Katie,
Many will be confused as to why I am addressing you in a letter form and not directly with my characteristic green font. Well, I will tell them, for there is no need to tell you because you already know.
In a few short months, Katie and I will no longer be roommates. This is sad news. We are spilling tears from our eyes right now, and have nothing to wipe them away with because the flow is too strong to stop with anything but the most absorbent of tissue, and alas, we have none. Actually, I have no idea if rivers are pouring from Katie's eye sockets or if she is out of super bibulous (this is a word, and is probably being used incorrectly, but come on, bibulous!) Kleenex to dry those floods, because she is not here. Nor am I particularly driven to tears at this exact moment. I mean, if I were to stop to dwell on the misery that awaits me in parting with Katie as my roommate, the tears would indeed spill over onto my pajamas and soak me more than playing in the rain. And if Katie was here, and she also started thinking about how terribly sad it is going to be when we part roommate ways, then there would be a downpour from her tear ducts as well. So, in short, we could possibly be crying gusts out of our faces, yet we are not, because we are parted right now and are both thinking about other things. But there is a strong likely hood that if we were together, we'd be sobbing. I'd say a 1 in 7 chance. Or 2 in 16.

Katie and I have discussed what should become of this, our blog. Should we kill it? Granted, we have almost done just that in the past few months. Not because we have no heart for our readers and wish to deny their every hope and dream of having a blog everyday, but simply because we are lazy and Katie hates her job so much it robs her of the will to blog, and I have sympathy pains for her; therefore I cannot even remotely be expected to cheer her up enough for us to blog together, not even a measly two posts a week.
Even in light of this almost death of The Compounded, we decided no, we do not want to kill it. Not at all.
But, how, we asked, can a blog encircling the world of two roommates be expected to survive if the two are no longer roommates? It was this question that led us to our answer:
We shall . . . solo post.
Quiet down! Do not be outraged! Calm yourself! There is no need for hysterics! All shall be well! Life will not be flipped inside out and no longer make sense because of this. Order and chaos will battle for a time, but in the end, harmony will prevail. The Compounded will survive, and become more vibrant than it has ever been before. Take a moment, put aside your doubt and desire to curl up and die, and look at the possibilities:

1. Did we not once say that if one of us died, there would be more posts? Well, if it helps, think of this as though one of us is dead. I believe that association will put your mind at ease.

2. Also, if perhaps, there is a day that Katie feels horrible about her job, or I am feeling particularly pained for her, then there will then be the possibility of at least one person being able to pluck up enough motivation to blog without having to cheer the other half to do so.

3.You will love it.

4.Anyone who has major complaints may have some ice cream on us. (Not on us. Not really. I feel the need to clarify considering some of our most loyal readers tend to take things a tad too literally--Jeremy. We will purchase ice cream for you to eat to heal your woes, but it will be in a bowl, not on us. That is messy.)

5.Finally, Katie, I have a proposition: Though we will no longer be actual roommates, perhaps we can still refer to one another as such in this blog. I feel that connection will aid in everyone's healing in this time of change and out pouring of tears.

I think this ends my first (technically, second) solo post. I do feel a bit lonely without Katie at my side, even asleep near my side, in the other room, as sometimes it happens. I look over at her bed, and it is empty. Is this how it will feel in just three months? So lonesome without her? True, I don't think I will have an extra bed in my room then, but I will forever look over at the blank wall, though it might have some art on it at that time and not be so blank, and long for my dear friend and roommate. Katie-bug, I'm going to miss you.

Sincerely,
Amanda

I couldn't stop myself from adding 'sincerely' at the end after that last paragraph. But seriously, and I do mean it:

From,
Amanda


Also: we will be blogging together still before we move out, do not worry about that. And from time to time when we are separated. The end, for real.

Love,
Amanda