Welcome to I Heart Zac Efron Anonymous. Many of us have tried to resist it for so long. I don't want to be a cougar just like the rest of you. But then I watched 17 Again. And that HAIR. And those EYES. Okay...you get the point.

Hello, my name is Yeti and I heart Zac Efron.


Lunch conversation

Girl One: Do they make chastity belts that vibrate?

Girl Two: Do they even make chastity belts?


No thanks, Austin

I got a recent friend request on myspace from a musician, Austin. I have many friends who are musicians so I can appreciate pushing yourself, getting your product out there, trying to live the dream.

But the picture below is what was on Austin's page.

Really? Your music isn't even that good and you think you're so hot that I am going to pay $300 to go to dinner and a movie with you...AND THEN HAVE YOU SING TO ME!!!




I do not know who drives this car, but I am jealous. I would buy this car for myself if I lived in Malibu. For sure.

It was just sitting outside my office this morning. I don't know if you can tell from the picture, but it SPARKLES! I can’t prove it cause I did not see the driver but I am pretty sure a Barbie owns this car….or Perez Hilton.

Please note the "Jesus Makes Me Tickled Pink" license plate cover.


A hadwritten hello

You know what I miss? Letters.

I never get letters in the mail anymore. Just a little something letting you know that someone was thinking about you and wanted to take the time to write some thoughts down just for you, fold them up, stick them in an envelope and put a stamp on it.

Sometimes I wish we would use the good 'ol post office a bit more. I am guilty of it just as much as anyone. I don't even know anyone's address anymore - if they don't have email (or, let's be honest, facebook) there's pretty much no hope of ever speaking to them again.

Letters. I miss letters.



my neighbors had a jello wrestling competition in our shared driveway the other day.

jello. wrestling.

i'm not even in a sorority. more days should involve jello and wrestling and beer-pong. that's what i think.


I spy with my little eye

Is it weird that a man just walked out of the bathroom with his laptop?....open



Sometimes waiting is hard:
Is he going to call?
Is he going to write?
Will he make the bold gesture?
Are we on the same page?
Should I say anything?
Did I say enough?
Did I say too much?

All of these questions and most of them don’t really have an answer. We agonize ourselves asking questions over and over in our mind, analyzing every word and gesture, hardly recognizing what is happening right in front of us.

And we barely even know what we would do if we actually got an answer to our questions. But somehow there is comfort in the asking.

And so we wait.
In anticipation.
With butterflies.
And hope…

I mean, I’m a cynic and everyone tells you it doesn’t happen like the movies but…maybe a prince does exist somewhere.


Toilet paper

Do you think restaurants and offices buy such crappy toilet paper so no one will steal it and take it home?


Questions at the office

So, I got a call the other day asking me if I do sperm analysis.

Yeah. I work at a seminary.