The miraculous thing that is soap...

I've always wondered what it must be like to have your mouth washed out with soap. Luckily, I was a perfect daughter and an angel of a child, so I was never fortunate enough to have that particular experience. That is, until, last night. I have one of those fancy toothbrush holders. You know, the kind that holds your toothbrush upright so that is doesn't sit and fester in a pool of your germs. (Yes, I have a bit of a germ phobia. I'm also very scatter-brained and this allows me to keep track of the little bugger.) Well, this marvel of modern engineering made it so that my toothbrush was at exactly the same height as my hand soap thing. You know the kind... the bottle with the awesome press down top that seems to deliver just the right amount of soap directly into the palm of your hand. You get the joy of seeing a large cloud of puffy white suds all over your hands but without all that strenuous work of rubbing one of those bars of Ivory soap. Really, the only way it could be any cooler is if it was the kind with the instant foamy soap. (Come on. You know you love it too. There is just a child-like surge of joy associated with that stuff.) Anyway, back to where we left off: since they were the same height they looked so charming sitting next to each other on the bathroom counter. And for some reason it never occurred to me that they wouldn't get along. The two must have had a brawl at some point yesterday and the toothbrush lost. After washing my face I mechanically reached for my toothbrush without noticing that it had soap on it. I quickly realized my mistake as I began to brush my teeth but since I was tired and I had just killed off a number of brain cells by watching the TV for numerous hours I was convinced that if I simply brushed more vigorously I would be able to rid my mouth of the soapy taste. Since a large majority of the germs in your mouth reside on your tongue I have become accustomed to cleaning it, and the soapy toothbrush was not going to stop me. I wish that it had. I went to bed with my mouth tasting squeaky clean. While the soap says that it neutralizes odors I'm pretty sure this will not catch on as a way to rid yourself of morning breath. After about a minute ,I couldn't handle the awful taste any longer and I ransacked my room for gum. Of course, now that I needed it is was nowhere to be found. A light-bulb went on! Mom has gum in her desk. I crept out of my room and rummaged through a drawer or two before I found it. It didn't work out quite as planned. After only a few chews the gum too, tasted like soap which really wasn't incredibly helpful. I got rid of the gum and decided to simply ignore it and go to sleep. Easier said than done, but I was finally able to accomplish my goal. Even if I did fall asleep feeling like I could be a cartoon character - Donald Duck perhaps. Anyway, this was my long way of saying, thanks Mom and Dad for never washing my mouth out with soap.

BBAAAA

I never thought it would happen. I thought I was stronger. As it turns out I am strongly influenced by peer pressure and I have finally given in. I have joined the herd mentality of blogging. Tragic! All that time resisting appears to mean nothing. One little post on my mother's blog and suddenly I'm hooked. I'm beginning to think this is one of the worst drugs...

On to more serious business - to shed some light on my title choice:
I truly am unexplainable. You may think that I will now begin some entirely conceited description of just how amazing I am and how even though I will attempt to convey how awesome I am, words simply cannot describe just how mind-blowingly incredible a person Kayla McKay really is. But we all know that everyone would die of laughter before finishing my first blog and that would just be too incredibly pathetic so I will not try to kill you with my wonderful sense of humor just yet. I am unexplainable simply because no one has yet created a word that conveys just how weird and strange I am. Someone much more creative than myself should really work on that...
This leads to the second part of my title:
Dictionary.com defines an oddity as 1. an odd or remarkably unusual person, thing, or event 2. the quality of being odd; singularity, strangeness, or eccentricity 3. an odd characteristic or trait; peculiarity. I feel this is a perfectly fitting description of me so I guess I may have lied before, I guess there is a word that adequately defines me. Oh, dear, now I feel much less special.

Just in case you thought I was exaggerating just how strange I am I thought I would add in a glimpse of the me rarely seen outside of a few very close family members (who probably wish they saw it a lot less). On this particular day I decided to practice for the day that I will inevitably become that crazy cat lady down the street that all the neighborhood children fear.

Yes, I did put the cat on a leash and try to walk her (no Dacia, I do not abuse this adorable kitten, I promise). She certainly has a mind of her own though and I think she ended up walking me. That is until she saw a flower and freaked out - she is a huge wimp and is afraid of just about everything, including her own tail. I had to pick her up and carry her to the house as she tried to climb onto my head.

Oh, and, yes, I am wearing three slips. (Crazy cat ladies always have an eccentric wardrobe, do they not?) And although my father called me a shameless hussy for wandering about in my underwear I thought this was a HUGE improvement over the last time. I mean, I've got pants on. (I realized quickly the first time I attempted this stunt that although a slip is theoretically supposed help to keep you covered even three slips are incredibly see-through. - - ok so this was a complete lie, but is does make my life sound much more interesting).

As this is becoming a very long post I will say just one more thing. Although I have joined the herd in this blogging endeavor I refuse to give up my odd and unexplainable ways. If I must be a sheep than I will continue to be the black one...

BBAAAA!