Every day...for hours and hours... I sit at my desk and listen to workers in a picket line outside my window. Excuse me, Christopher Walken, but even you would agree that this situation requires decidedly LESS cowbell.

The most maddening thing is that I can't understand anything they're saying except, "yes we can!" ...over and over and over and over and over and over and over.

1. "Yes we can!"

2. Drums and cowbell.

3. Rinse and repeat.

AHHHHHHHHH! I'll give you whatever you want! Just make it stop!

*pats hair down and takes a deep breath*

Ahem.

The sheer volume of "yes we can"s has permeated my soul and has easily made me the most optimistic/crazy person on earth.

Co-worker: "Kerry, could we discuss blah blah blah?"

Kerry: "YES WE CAN!" *drum beat on the desk*

Co-worker: "I like your creepy manic enthusiasm!"

On a COMPLETELY unrelated note...
Let me introduce you to Kerry's fridge:


Because of my strange need to personify appliances...let's call her ...Fridgina.

It's not that strange. C'mon, work with me here, people.

I'm trying not to be completely shallow, but Fridgina was looking toe up. Toe up from the flo' up.

Footnote for the elderly: "Toe up" is a slang term that the kiddies use. It's short for "tore up," which implies that the "toe up" object/person is disheveled.

From her sad hodgepodge of local Thai menus, to her crooked chrome bottle opener...she needed an extreme makeover.

Enter....Obamarator!


Now it's a fridge fit for the Real World house!

At this point, you must be thinking, "A magnet mosaic of Barack Obama on a refrigerator? ...Oooo, how intriguing!...Tell me more, Kerry!"

I'm overwhelmingly pleased that you share in my enthusiasm, dear reader.

Quite frankly, the Obamarator is the most ridiculous use of my time that I could conceive of on a snowy Saturday afternoon.

But let's have some specifics:
It's 1,242 different magnets.
It took a good 5-6 hours...
...And 3-4 beers.

Every time I see his face, I'll "hope" there's a beer on the other side.