Caney Demars: ruining hair since 2009.

Several times a year, upon request, I cut hair.  Usually my dad's or my brother's, but sometimes my friends' or my dog's or whoever's willing to let me go at them with a pair of skizzies.  You never really know how it's gonna turn out with me, so there have been some iiiiiinteresting haircuts.

This was my first haircut ever.  My dad turned out looking kind of like Moe from the Three Stooges. From then on, it was decided I would be the resident hair-cutter.  Caney Demars: ruining hair since 2009.

Today's haircut was pretty memorable.  My dad flaunted a poorly-formed mohawk for a while and wanted to keep it, but I, being the ever-so logical one, buzzed it off because he had a client coming to work with him.  Who wants to look like a pre-pubescent boy going through a punk phase when you're trying to look professional?  Oh right, that would be my dad.

 One time I left him a little rat tail and waited to see how long it took my mom to notice.  That tail lasted about .7 seconds.  We all agreed that it was cute, though.

 Another time, I left half of his head unshaved.  Such a good look for him.

 

My dad is pretty much the only one who trusts me completely with his hair.  You're probably wondering why that is.  Is it because I'm his loving daughter?  No.  Is it because I always do such a wonderful job?   That's definitely not it.  Is it because he's too cheap to go to the barber? YEP.  That, and the fact that his confidence is so sky high he doesn't give a flying fuck if there are a few bald patches now and then.  

Moral of the story? We should all learn from my dad and stop being so gosh darn self conscious.  ...Sometimes it's embarrassing how many fucks that man doesn't give, though.

That time I wiped out in public carrying 5,000 books.

Man, I've been seriously slacking on blogging.  Whooooopsiedoo.  Anyway.

Every year, Memorial Day is a huge event at the Demars household, but probably not for the reason you'd think...  Memorial Day marks the official beginning of yard-sale season.  And you know me-- I friggin' LOVE other people's old junk.  In previous years, we'd cruise around for hours stopping at sale after sale. One year, my stupid parents made other plans during the prime yard-saling hours and I remember sulking around being pissy and making life difficult because I was so upset about missing the beginning of the season.  Obviously, yard saling is not something to be joked about.  IT'S SERIOUS.  It's practically an art.

Unfortunately, this weekend was a bit different-- I had to work and didn't get around to doing the yard sale rounds.  Sad times in Caney land.  BUT, the one redeeming factor in missing the prime sales is finding the free piles the day after.  

I was taking a walk, lost in my own little world of sidewalks and dodging stray cats when all of a sudden I came across a HUMONGO blanket full of books.  A ton of them were of the crappy chick lit genre I'm so addicted to, but I did pick up quite a few others as well.  The pile was only about a quarter mile from my house, thank goodness, because there is NO WAY I could've carried that stack further.  I started on my way, only to wipe out and drop everything.  I don't think anyone saw it, but there were probably a bunch of elderly people peeking out from behind their curtains laughing.  That happened not once, but twice on the five minute walk back.  No shame.

It was worth it, though.  I'd fall down in public any day for a stack o' new reading material.

Bucket o' Seaweed

I feel like half of these blog posts are about seaweed salad.  (Wait, I'm gonna go count.)  There's THIS ONE and THIS ONE and... I guess that's it.  But still.  I bet you guys are getting bored with me and my seaweed salad obsession.  I DON'T KERRR, gonna write aboot it anywayz.

                                   

A few days after I found this wonderful stuff, my friend Jack told me about these buckets (HA, love that word) of seaweed salad sold at Costco.  We made plans to go, but never actually followed through.  Sadskies.

And then my friend Amy mentioned the same thing-- glorious buckets of seaweed salad at Costco.  We made plans-ish, but again, never followed through with them.  (Are you guys sensing a pattern here?  I'm a shitty keep-in-touch-er and I'm bad at making plans.  Sincerest apologies).

So last night, while I was raiding my friend Eliza's fridge (without consent because that's what best friends do-- nom the noms that don't belong to you), I came upon a bucket of seaweed salad.  And LO and BEHOLD it was from Costco.  (Just for the record, it's not really a bucket... more of a medium-sized tupperware container.  I think 'bucket' sounds better, but then I'm biased because that's pretty much my favorite word.  ANYWAY).  I did a little Junie B. Jones-esque gasp of delight aaaand then there were ocean plants in my mouth.  Mmm.

And then to my even greater delight (and bewilderment), Eliza's mom told me to take the container home with me because no one in the house liked it very much.  I was mucho grande skeptical.  Who the heck doesn't like slimy, fluorescent green marine vegetation?!  Weirdos.  So I accepted it calmly with grace and poise and then attacked it.  Guess who now has an empty seaweed bucket?  This gal.

I eat so much seaweed, I fully expect to
turn into a mermaid by next week.

Trip to the Liiiiiibrary!

My general mode of operation after a particularly hairy exam or some horribly stressful event is to clear everything so I can just chill the fuck out and read about something that has no affiliation with anything in my life.  A few times a year, I go on HUGE rampages that last a week or two and read everything in sight.  This is one of those times.  So.  Here's what I'm currently reading:

1) Cross my Heart by Carly Phillips.  Ugh.  Guilty pleasure-- I love this shit.  The plots suck, the endings are predictable, the "heroines" are dumb bitches, and nothing that happens in these books is even remotely plausible.  And yet, here I am reading them.The day I got home from school, my mom had left a bunch of airy chick lit on my bed and I tackled it.  No better way to clear your brain than focusing on the impossible love life of some girl stumbling upon the love of her life, who happens to be gorgeous and perfect.  Ahh.

2) The Revenge of the Radioactive Lady by Elizabeth Stuckey-French.  I ahven't yet started this one, but DAMMMN can you resist a title like that?  I totally judged this book by its cover.  Nothin' gets my attention like radioactivity and aprons.

3) Bag of Bones by Stephen King.  I'm an avid Stephen King reader, but I can't read them one after another... TOO SCARY.  I have to wait a month or two between novels to recover.  Plus, I'll be working at a hotel this summer and at night the lobby gets dark and creaky and terrifying.  I'm actually fairly sure it's haunted.  I always tell myself I won't read Stephen King at the hotel, but I always do, so... I suck.  Anywho, I'm not very far in yet, but I'm sure I'll be scared pants-less soon enough.

4) The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar ...And Six More by Roald Dahl.  I LOVE LOVE LOVE Roald Dahl.  I'm not one to reread books multiple times, but Roald Dahl never gets old.

HOME!

HOME FOR THE SUMMER!  Woooooooo!  Cue the Mr. Bean-esque dancing!

But... being home from school means I won't be surrounded by dozens of weirdos who don't finish their food (seriously, I still can't get over the fact that people throw food away.  GARSH).  So.  This blog might be a liiiittle lonely.

Maybe I'll ditch my trash theme and just write about whatever the heck I want.  Yep, that sounds good.

OH MY GAHD OH MY GAHHHD

I'm gonna go ahead and say that today was the BEST trash day I've ever had.  I get all smiley and hyperventilate-y when I think back on it.  I'm overwhelmed.  I only took a few pictures because there was SO MUCH stuff and so little time.  I don't even know where to begin... 

Well, might as well start here: an unopened twin XL sheets pack.  Holy wow.  

1) WHY were these never used?!  I just don't get it. 

2) Do you know how hard extra-long twin sheets sets are to find?  They appear for like 2 weeks at Bed Bath and Beyond in mid-July and then they're nowhere to be found.  #collegeproblems

3) 400 thread-count.  That's basically Egyptian cotton, yeah?  

And then there's the incredibly random (but OH SO intriguing) emergency car flares.  So now I'll either ride around with these in Suzi the Civic for the next 15 years, orrrrr I could play with them now... hmm.  I have so many survival kits and emergency kits and just-in-case kits in my car already, what's one more?  It can go right between the tin-foily heat-retaining sleeping bag and the bag of band aids in my trunk.  Yayyyy, safety.

Here comes some re-dick-yoo-lus shit.  You are NOT going to believe me.  But you must, because I speak-a da truth and why would I lie about something as amazing as an IHOME in the trash?  Technically, it was next to the trash, but still.  (Important side note-- if you find something expensive/electronic/TOO new in the garbage, go find out who threw it away and double check to make sure it was actually supposed to get thrown away).  I almost felt guilty finding this... it's not just a half-eaten bag of tortilla chips, this is something expensive and lasting and not edible.  I'm super excited about it, but MAN... why was it thrown out?!?!  SO CURIOUS.  Maybe it's cursed?  I have no fucking idea.

WHY.

Aaaaand finally, the piece de resistance: POWER RANGERS COSTUME.  Downstairs near the front-desk area, there are these huge bins for people to dump stuff they don't want (obviously I'm there all the time, duhh) and I went down to donate some clothes, when all of a sudden-- I saw a bit of red peeking out.  I had to investigate.  I pulled out a plastic bag containing the costume, a pair of mid-thigh spanks, and a palstic vine.  Weirdo combo, but hey, who am I to quip about weirdness... I'll take my Power Rangers costume with spanks any day.

You can't just find a costume and NOT put it on.  I was a Power Ranger for a good portion of the day.  I might wear it for a good portion of tomorrow too.  And maybe the next day.  Ya know what?  Maybe I'll just never take it off.

So... that was my day.  I also found a bunch more food, a sequin-y vest, a pillow sham, an Anne Taylor polka dot dress, a laptop lock, etc etc etc.  Basically, I'm a trashy maniac.  Mmm, life is good.

'Tis the season for scavenging... FINALS WEEK!

Don't you ever feel like it would be so much easier to just toss all your dorm junk and start from scratch next semester?  Nahh, you'd never do thaaaat.  Well, you might be surprised to know that people actually DO pitch stuff.  On move-out day, there's a ton of furniture, clothing, food, toiletries, WHATEVER, chillin' around abandoned by their owners.  CUE THE SCAVENGING.  

First of all... FOOD GALORE.  There is so so so so so much food laying around it's becoming overwhelming.  You know those videos where people with laser pointers mess with cats?  That's how I feel.  As soon as I see something wonderful, there's ANOTHER something wonderful and my attention span goes all woogly.  

The kitchen table is strewn with everything from nuts and granola bars to chips and cookies.  Popcorn, teas, salsa, candy bars, boxes of cereal, ramen, the list goes ON AND ON.

But my best food find of all... UNOPENED PEANUT BUTTER.  Bam-- proof that there is a god.  For the past few weeks, I've been stealing little packs of peanut butter from the dining hall.  No more!  I shall be eating from a jar now, ladies and gentlemen.  Movin' on up in the world.  Wanna make bets on how fast this jar's gonna go?  There're 35 servings, so... three days?  That sounds about right.

Another great trash find: tubey things.  Absolutely no idea what they were used for or why they had "fragile" written all over them, but whatever.  Taylor and I found them around 10:30pm and we JUST finished playing with them.  It's now 12:30pm.  Moral of the story: give some stressed out gals plastic tubes during finals week and we can entertain ourselves for hours.

And finally, the CLOTHES.  Holy moly, the things people throw away!  Found some name-brand stuff   with tags, by golly!  Need some retail therapy?  Visit UVM during finals week.  You will NOT be disappointed.  Also, since there's such a plethora of used clothing, it's the perfect time to get crafty.  With all that time I spent not studying, I figured out how to make scarves out of old t-shirts!  Woop-de-wooooop!

 I hope your finals week-finds are as great as mine.  If anyone finds anything especially fantastic, snap a picture with yo' smilin' self and gimme a holler!  Happy hunting!

Cinco de WHAT?!

Happy Cinco de Mayo, y'all!  I love love love holidays, even if I'm relatively unsure exactly what is being celebrated.  Up until a couple years ago, I had the vague idea that Cinco de Mayo actually involved mayonnaise (hence the "Mayo" part).  Boy, was I wrong.  It's actually about guacamole and stuffing your face with it.  Nah, but really it's actually a yay-Mexico-won-a-battle-a-while-ago kinda thang.  So...yeah.  That about sums up the extent of my knowledge on both Mexico AND Spanish to English translations (read: I know nothing).

ANYWHO.  My mom and I had plans to go out to dinner, and naturally we ended up at a Mexican restaurant.  I've never had Mexican food, so it was an...interesting experience.  We started out with chips and salsa and both my indecisiveness and the waitress' harping resulted in us ordering guacamole with the chips.  BEST IDEA EVER.

My lovely mother, posing with the drool-
inducing guacamole.  Yumz x 23857923.

She made it right in front of us, using a mortar and pestle to mash up avocado, garlic, and some other stuff that I completely missed because I was too awed and drooly to actually pay attention.  It was so so good.  Gah.

My mom got crab tacos.  Or something like that.  The entree names were mostly in Spanish, so it was like, "Uhhh...this has fish!  It's a go!"  The prettiest (and also blandest) part of her meal was the bright purple cabbage.  It actually looks kind of like a Dr. Seuss character just chillin' on her plate.  Eww.

Honestly, I have NO IDEA what the heck I ordered.  I guess I must've looked a bit lost, so the waitress came over to help and I told her my food restrictions: no gluten, no dairy, no meat.  Immediately, she pointed to something on the menu and I put all of my trust in her hands and ordered it.  I think they might be enchiladas, but I'm obviously not a Mexican expert, so...

It was pretty disgusting.  I have absolutely no idea what was inside those corn tortillas.  I saw a mushroom at one point and rejoiced at the fact that there was recognizable food in my mouth.  I think there might've been some black bean paste in there too.  All that black goop, though?  NO FUCKING CLUE.  It tasted spicy and sweet and goopy and barfy.

What have I learned today?
1) When someone asks if you want guacamole, the answer is always yes.
2) Don't let the waitress order for you because it'll make you gag.
3) Mexico is definitely not my homeland.

I'd make gluten-free cookies for Zac Efron any night...

After a quick jaunt to the movie theater to see the new Nicholas Sparks movie (BARF BARF don't go unless you like staring at Zac Efron's woeful eyes for 94% of the movie), I got a random call from my friend Trevor.  At 11pm on a Thursday night, I wasn't expecting anything wonderful to happen, but WHAMMO, along came some gluten-free cookies!

Here's Trevor lookin' all chocolate chippy.

Surprisingly, they tasted pretty similar to regular chocolate chip cookies.  AKA, like happiness and Grandmas and cozy February nights.  Which is weird, because I'm pretty sure I've never had a cookie made by my grandma and it's... May.  Eh.  Whatever.  The point is, on a scale of 1-9.5, I'd give them a 7.  THAAAAANKS, TREVOR!

If you stare at this picture for a couple hours, it's basically
the equivalent to seeing the actual movie.  Just sayin'.

Side note: I know it's the end of the semester, so to all you UVM-ers reading this, you won't be able to take advantage of it anymore (I shoulda blogged about it weeks ago, sorry!), but every Monday morning, the student center in the Davis Center gives away free movie tickets to the Roxy theater in downtown Burlington.  I, being the ticket hoarder I am, went to the movies for free like 6 times and sometimes even got friends in for free as well.  I saved approximately $50 on movie tickets, which means... MO' MONEY FO' SHNACKS!  Also, when a movie turns out to be disappointing, who cares!  You didn't pay for it!  It's like, "Sucks to suck, Zac Efron, but I didn't have to pay anything, so I guess I won't be pissed off about it.  Also, you kinda have a hot bod.  Kay, Bye."  

What have we learned here?

1) Even people who aren't gluten free (Trevor, for example) eat gluten-free things. Why? Because they're delicious.  Duh.

2) Never pay for your movie tickets.

3) Never underestimate the power of Zac Efron's abs.  Mmm.