My teeth ache. Specifically, my two front teeth. (Shutupshutupshutup*)
I am LOVING this. Let me tell you how much I am loving thing. I am loving this SO MUCH, I could die for joy of it all.
No, seriously. DIEDIEDIE!
Because guess who doesn't have dental?!
Ohh! Ohhh! ME!! ME!
And guess who could PROBABLY afford to go to the dentist but won't because a) I ain't spending that kind of cash to be told to take some advil**, and b) I HATELOATHEDETESTHATE the dentist?
MEEEEEEE! Oh God, it's meeeee!
Now guess who will be sitting here just sucking it up?
I think you get the point, but in case not: MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ((inhale)) EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
*I swear to all you hold holy that if you EVEN start to sing that song to me, toothache or no, I will bite off your lips THAT is how serious I am. I have had that Goddamn song in my head ever since I thought up this post. At work. I DON'T KNOW WHICH PAIN IS WORSE!
**Unless, of course, they give me something stronger like vicodin, which would probably mean the trip AT LEAST pays for itself***.
***Note to those of you about to LOSE YOUR SHIT: (Like my mother, HI MOM!) I do not sell nor condone the selling of drugs under the table for spare cash. If I need spare cash I'll simply whore myself out for it. BECAUSE I AM CLASSY.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
TEMPTRESS
Seriously kids. I need to work on my charms and wiles because my career as a seductress is NOT off to a good start. I mean damn fellas! Look at that picture up in the masthead. LOOK AT IT!! Who WOULDN'T want to bite off a piece of that? WHO?
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
I HAVE PRINCIPLES
In a tragic turn of events, today I found out that the lead singer of All American Rejects looks eerily similar to my asshole ex-boyfriend. And seems to have about as much emotional range. Which means I have to hate him now on principle.
Good thing their music isn't that good.
Good thing their music isn't that good.
Monday, September 17, 2007
FRIDAY NIGHT LASAGNA
(Alright you damn vultures! Here's your freaking post!)
Friday evening on my way home from work I receive a call from Matt of the E pursuasion (this may or may not matter later).
"Let's do something," he said as is his wont.
"Okay," I responded wittily. "What?"
"Dinner at my place?" he asked hopefully and the stars aligned and planets collided and it was decided BY THE GODS that there would be an O-R-G-Y of cheese and sause and noodle and veggies.
We ventured to the local Kroger to pick out way more squash than was necessary as well as an eggplant that, sadly, was not used for sexual favors.
Back at his place we began the arduous task of cutting all the freaking shit we bought. Okay. Okay. Let me rephrase. Matt:E and D.O. began the arduous task. I got to mix up the gooey, cheesey spread that I may or may not have smeared all over my body in a fit of orgasmic lust.
While it was going quite well, what with all the boys playing with sharp knives and the startling lack of blood, D.O. seemed to lack... form, shall we say? And as he cut his pepper, his wrist was held at such a painfully awkward angle that Matt and I were obliged, no COMPELLED, to point out just how big of an idiot D.O. looked. Specifically:
"You look like a gay guy with palsey." ~Matt:E
Others arrived and it was decided by Matt:E's smokin' hot Not-Girlfriend Kalie (because I spelled it wrong last time) that our little get together was seriously lacking some wine. So she bought some. And all us pansy ass light weights drank it all BEFORE gorging ourselves on lasagna.
That is the only reason I have for why the rest of this shit happened:
Me: "Did you say pants down?"
Matt:E: "No, I said hands down."
Me: "Oh. I guess I heard what I wanted to hear."
* * *
Jennith: "Show us the alien!"
Me: "Do you even know what it is?"
Jennith: "It sprouts out of his stomach?"
Me: "Oh sweetie. That's not his stomach."
* * *
It was somehow determined that D.O. was a god among men and could satisfy two women at the same time. Not merely because he is just THAT good, but because he's packing twice your typical standard regulation (he has two penises).
Me: "Would that make you a hermaphrodite?"
D.O. and Matt:E (in disgust): No! (Because seriously? My comment? Not the stupidest thing said folks)
Matt:E: It makes him more of a Double Dudite... Double Dude Delight!"
Me: "You could be in double mint gum commercials."
* * *
Now, you would think after the BRILLIANT conversations you just witnessed above that NO ONE WOULD EVER WANT TO LEAVE. That's what we thought, but D.O.? He had different plans and apparently, stupidly, thought he would go to bed early. Like at 11, which, L-A-M-E.
That's when someone threw out the idea that maybe, just maybe, D.O. would LOVE IT if we all piled on top of him.
And we did.
And then all hell broke loose.
Matt:E dove on first, slipping across D.O. like he was butter. Kalie, the Not-Girlfriend soon followed, pushing Matt:E further to make room. Only thing, D.O.'s bed doesn't reach the wall. There's about a foot gap between the bed and the wall, which Matt:E promptly fell down and Kalie on top of him.
She cried out for my assistance and was quickly shushed at Other Matt (or Matt:VD) slammed his door at us in anger. Heh. Oops. I giggled at her thoroughly, tickled pink at the sounds of Matt:E's groans of discomfort, before reaching an arm around her skinny waist (bitch) and hoisting her back up onto the bed.
Only to find her yelping in pain because her leg? It was stuck between the wall and the bed. Tipsy as she was, she continued her half-whispered pleas for help until I finally had the wherewithall to pull her leg free and clamor down the steps where we collapsed back on the couches in a fit of drunken giggles.
THE END.
Friday evening on my way home from work I receive a call from Matt of the E pursuasion (this may or may not matter later).
"Let's do something," he said as is his wont.
"Okay," I responded wittily. "What?"
"Dinner at my place?" he asked hopefully and the stars aligned and planets collided and it was decided BY THE GODS that there would be an O-R-G-Y of cheese and sause and noodle and veggies.
We ventured to the local Kroger to pick out way more squash than was necessary as well as an eggplant that, sadly, was not used for sexual favors.
Back at his place we began the arduous task of cutting all the freaking shit we bought. Okay. Okay. Let me rephrase. Matt:E and D.O. began the arduous task. I got to mix up the gooey, cheesey spread that I may or may not have smeared all over my body in a fit of orgasmic lust.
While it was going quite well, what with all the boys playing with sharp knives and the startling lack of blood, D.O. seemed to lack... form, shall we say? And as he cut his pepper, his wrist was held at such a painfully awkward angle that Matt and I were obliged, no COMPELLED, to point out just how big of an idiot D.O. looked. Specifically:
"You look like a gay guy with palsey." ~Matt:E
Others arrived and it was decided by Matt:E's smokin' hot Not-Girlfriend Kalie (because I spelled it wrong last time) that our little get together was seriously lacking some wine. So she bought some. And all us pansy ass light weights drank it all BEFORE gorging ourselves on lasagna.
That is the only reason I have for why the rest of this shit happened:
Me: "Did you say pants down?"
Matt:E: "No, I said hands down."
Me: "Oh. I guess I heard what I wanted to hear."
* * *
Jennith: "Show us the alien!"
Me: "Do you even know what it is?"
Jennith: "It sprouts out of his stomach?"
Me: "Oh sweetie. That's not his stomach."
* * *
It was somehow determined that D.O. was a god among men and could satisfy two women at the same time. Not merely because he is just THAT good, but because he's packing twice your typical standard regulation (he has two penises).
Me: "Would that make you a hermaphrodite?"
D.O. and Matt:E (in disgust): No! (Because seriously? My comment? Not the stupidest thing said folks)
Matt:E: It makes him more of a Double Dudite... Double Dude Delight!"
Me: "You could be in double mint gum commercials."
* * *
Now, you would think after the BRILLIANT conversations you just witnessed above that NO ONE WOULD EVER WANT TO LEAVE. That's what we thought, but D.O.? He had different plans and apparently, stupidly, thought he would go to bed early. Like at 11, which, L-A-M-E.
That's when someone threw out the idea that maybe, just maybe, D.O. would LOVE IT if we all piled on top of him.
And we did.
And then all hell broke loose.
Matt:E dove on first, slipping across D.O. like he was butter. Kalie, the Not-Girlfriend soon followed, pushing Matt:E further to make room. Only thing, D.O.'s bed doesn't reach the wall. There's about a foot gap between the bed and the wall, which Matt:E promptly fell down and Kalie on top of him.
She cried out for my assistance and was quickly shushed at Other Matt (or Matt:VD) slammed his door at us in anger. Heh. Oops. I giggled at her thoroughly, tickled pink at the sounds of Matt:E's groans of discomfort, before reaching an arm around her skinny waist (bitch) and hoisting her back up onto the bed.
Only to find her yelping in pain because her leg? It was stuck between the wall and the bed. Tipsy as she was, she continued her half-whispered pleas for help until I finally had the wherewithall to pull her leg free and clamor down the steps where we collapsed back on the couches in a fit of drunken giggles.
THE END.
JUST CALL ME TITS MAGEE
Why yes, this IS another post about my boobs. Because apparently THEY JUST CAN'T BE RESTRAINED.
This was never a problem I expected growing up. As a young girl it just isn't something you think will ever happen to you though I'm sure plenty of little girls in their training bras are wishing for the day that their full and buxom chests SNAP THE UNDERWIRE OF THEIR BRA IN HALF. AT WORK.
BEAT THAT, VOLUPTUOUS SISTERS! Not. To. Be. Restrained. Bras tremble at the mere sight of my cannons. BOOM.
This was never a problem I expected growing up. As a young girl it just isn't something you think will ever happen to you though I'm sure plenty of little girls in their training bras are wishing for the day that their full and buxom chests SNAP THE UNDERWIRE OF THEIR BRA IN HALF. AT WORK.
BEAT THAT, VOLUPTUOUS SISTERS! Not. To. Be. Restrained. Bras tremble at the mere sight of my cannons. BOOM.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
RANDOM CONCERT ANNOUNCEMENT
Dropkick Murphys
November 13
Bogarts
Now, I haven't heard much by the Dropkick Murphys HOWEVER I do like their style (I'm a HUGE fan of Flogging Molly), but at the same time, I feel like for me to go to that concert I would be an enormous poser.
Besides. It's on a school night. I realize I'm lame. No need to point it out.
November 13
Bogarts
Now, I haven't heard much by the Dropkick Murphys HOWEVER I do like their style (I'm a HUGE fan of Flogging Molly), but at the same time, I feel like for me to go to that concert I would be an enormous poser.
Besides. It's on a school night. I realize I'm lame. No need to point it out.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
IT'S BECOME AN ENTITY ALL IT'S OWN
Self-righteous bitch. You would think after all our years together that mah Hair? She would know better. She wouldn't pick fights with entities that are bigger than she is but nooooo. She got up all in Humidity's face like she has a hope in the world, acting all big and bad, puffing herself up a pissed off cat.
Behold. Exhibit A:
Courtesy of Sarah Cool who doesn't yet know how courteous she's being. (HI SARAH!)
Now, I have to give my Body credit. She tried to talk Hair down. Body? She KNOWS. She done got knocked on her big ole ass by Humidity. She knows better than to mess with that crazy-eyed loon again. But Hair? She hasn't learned her lesson yet. Ohhh no. She goes right at Humidity who's just standing there with a smug "the hell" look up on her homely face (just sayin'). And I have to imagine that Humidity didn't mean it to be such an insult, but she ruffled Hair like Hair was 10 years old, and really? Can that be considered anything OTHER than condescending after you pass the age of 10? And see, that shit right there just pissed Hair off more and she ended up calling Humidity an ugly name (it may or may not rhyme with "lucking punt") and BAM! God, it was horrible. Humidity was all over Hair like a drunk prom date and Hair? I fear she may never be the same again.
But seriously! Hair is getting WAY too old for this shit. Bitch still acts like she's 12 with all that natural shine. YOUR SHINE HASN'T BEEN NATURAL SINCE YOU GOT DYED RED FOR THREE YEARS IN HIGH SCHOOL. I don't get it Hair. You just don't seem to appreciate that these things take effort or that that blue elixor from the gods I dantily brush through you every morning does NOT just grow on trees! NO! IT DOES NOT! And I know you waited (not quite) patiently for YEARS for me to finally pay you some mind and to care and put forth some effort but where do you get off acting like such a damn drama queen and attacking Humidity like that? HUMIDITY IS BIGGER THAN YOU! HIDE YOUR SHAME! You will behave properly or I shall be forced to take DRASTIC measures. SUBMIT! I RAISED YOU BETTER!
Gah. If it isn't the humidity it's the wave. WE DO NOT ATTEND SPORTING EVENTS! YOU WILL LAY YOUR ASS DOWN FLAT and you will like it or so help me God! You'll go the way of my Dad's hair but it won't be natural or gradual.
Behold. Exhibit A:
Courtesy of Sarah Cool who doesn't yet know how courteous she's being. (HI SARAH!)
Now, I have to give my Body credit. She tried to talk Hair down. Body? She KNOWS. She done got knocked on her big ole ass by Humidity. She knows better than to mess with that crazy-eyed loon again. But Hair? She hasn't learned her lesson yet. Ohhh no. She goes right at Humidity who's just standing there with a smug "the hell" look up on her homely face (just sayin'). And I have to imagine that Humidity didn't mean it to be such an insult, but she ruffled Hair like Hair was 10 years old, and really? Can that be considered anything OTHER than condescending after you pass the age of 10? And see, that shit right there just pissed Hair off more and she ended up calling Humidity an ugly name (it may or may not rhyme with "lucking punt") and BAM! God, it was horrible. Humidity was all over Hair like a drunk prom date and Hair? I fear she may never be the same again.
But seriously! Hair is getting WAY too old for this shit. Bitch still acts like she's 12 with all that natural shine. YOUR SHINE HASN'T BEEN NATURAL SINCE YOU GOT DYED RED FOR THREE YEARS IN HIGH SCHOOL. I don't get it Hair. You just don't seem to appreciate that these things take effort or that that blue elixor from the gods I dantily brush through you every morning does NOT just grow on trees! NO! IT DOES NOT! And I know you waited (not quite) patiently for YEARS for me to finally pay you some mind and to care and put forth some effort but where do you get off acting like such a damn drama queen and attacking Humidity like that? HUMIDITY IS BIGGER THAN YOU! HIDE YOUR SHAME! You will behave properly or I shall be forced to take DRASTIC measures. SUBMIT! I RAISED YOU BETTER!
Gah. If it isn't the humidity it's the wave. WE DO NOT ATTEND SPORTING EVENTS! YOU WILL LAY YOUR ASS DOWN FLAT and you will like it or so help me God! You'll go the way of my Dad's hair but it won't be natural or gradual.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
PURPOSEFULLY VAGUE
It REALLY sucks that something was so fun and (relatively) innocent that happened so long ago can still cause so much guilt and self-doubt.
I don't think I'll ever be okay with this.
I don't think I'll ever be okay with this.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
VEXED AND HEXED
I may have had a conniption at work today. No one was involved and THERE WERE NO WITNESSES, so really. The chance is only slight. I mean, can you really see me, as cool, calm, and collected as I am, having a conniption? Most people, and I'm sure of this, when they think of me, the first word that comes to mind? Is unfazed. Unfazed by the hubbub of everyday life, unfazed by the stresses you masses so typically succumb to.
Cough.
OKAY, FINE! FINE!!!! I am not like that AT ALL and I really did have a conniption at work. We're talking full on toddler-like trantrum, only without the noise. I didn't yell. I didn't scream. I didn't kick or throw or hit, but I did spasm in UNBRIDLED RAGE while hexing my computer with voodoo and willing it to SUBMIT! NOW! TO MEEEEEEEE! MY WILL, YOU PIECE OF JUNK! MINE!!!
Ohhhh, what, ass?! WHAT?! Do you have a PROBLEM with that? Because I'll cut you. Don't even think I won't.
Of course, I maintain the entire situation was NOT my fault. I didn't decide to highlight every damn thing on the screen even when I was only CLICKING ON ONE THING YOU BLOODY FREAKING BASTARD! And I didn't decide to mock and abuse me with not restarting but OH! You'll work when it says SHUT DOWN you cheap jezebel! Have you been cheating on me with another computer?! You found a better operating system, haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU?!!!! Tell me the truth! I bet you even have a virus now, don't you, even after I was so careful. WE USED PROTECTION YOU DIRTY SLUT!!! Don't you even accuse me of being involved in this! I....
I.. Oh. Hah. I see. Um, so you're working again? Heh. Okay, well... Carry on then.
Cough.
(I may have forgiven the bastard for now, but I'm still vexed about the clicking thing.)
PS - I told myself after being H-U-N-G the hell O-V-E-R Sunday that I was never drinking AGAIN! That lasted until TODAY. IT IS TUESDAY, PEOPLE! Stupid job.
PSS - I was sitting at a light when I saw some guy STOP IN MY LANE, exactly were I was going, and his buddied leaned out the car to holla at some chick. After a few moments the playa got out so he could talk to this girl and his friend? The one in my lane. He threw on his hazards. Then the light changed and right about the same time I was going to lay on the horn, the guy in the car took off. WITHOUT playa, who ran UP HILL chasing after him.
I thoroughly laughed my ass off. Tonight better be a good night.
Cough.
OKAY, FINE! FINE!!!! I am not like that AT ALL and I really did have a conniption at work. We're talking full on toddler-like trantrum, only without the noise. I didn't yell. I didn't scream. I didn't kick or throw or hit, but I did spasm in UNBRIDLED RAGE while hexing my computer with voodoo and willing it to SUBMIT! NOW! TO MEEEEEEEE! MY WILL, YOU PIECE OF JUNK! MINE!!!
Ohhhh, what, ass?! WHAT?! Do you have a PROBLEM with that? Because I'll cut you. Don't even think I won't.
Of course, I maintain the entire situation was NOT my fault. I didn't decide to highlight every damn thing on the screen even when I was only CLICKING ON ONE THING YOU BLOODY FREAKING BASTARD! And I didn't decide to mock and abuse me with not restarting but OH! You'll work when it says SHUT DOWN you cheap jezebel! Have you been cheating on me with another computer?! You found a better operating system, haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU?!!!! Tell me the truth! I bet you even have a virus now, don't you, even after I was so careful. WE USED PROTECTION YOU DIRTY SLUT!!! Don't you even accuse me of being involved in this! I....
I.. Oh. Hah. I see. Um, so you're working again? Heh. Okay, well... Carry on then.
Cough.
(I may have forgiven the bastard for now, but I'm still vexed about the clicking thing.)
PS - I told myself after being H-U-N-G the hell O-V-E-R Sunday that I was never drinking AGAIN! That lasted until TODAY. IT IS TUESDAY, PEOPLE! Stupid job.
PSS - I was sitting at a light when I saw some guy STOP IN MY LANE, exactly were I was going, and his buddied leaned out the car to holla at some chick. After a few moments the playa got out so he could talk to this girl and his friend? The one in my lane. He threw on his hazards. Then the light changed and right about the same time I was going to lay on the horn, the guy in the car took off. WITHOUT playa, who ran UP HILL chasing after him.
I thoroughly laughed my ass off. Tonight better be a good night.
Monday, September 10, 2007
DEFINATELY MY FATHER'S CHILD
When I got up to my uncle's house on Friday he gave me the grand tour. Dad tagged along.
Uncle: And this is the master bedroom.
Me: This is where the magic happens, huh?
Uncle: Sure is.
Dad: Yeah, because it's a miracle if he gets any.
Me: I was going to say it was a miracle if he could get it up.
Uncle: Did I mention how happy I am you two are here?
* * *
Upon denting my shoe.
Dad: Which shoe did you scuff up?
Me: The right one.
Dad: No, smartass. Which pair?
Me: (Maniacal giggles) The black pair.
Dad: Sigh. You really are my kid.
Uncle: And this is the master bedroom.
Me: This is where the magic happens, huh?
Uncle: Sure is.
Dad: Yeah, because it's a miracle if he gets any.
Me: I was going to say it was a miracle if he could get it up.
Uncle: Did I mention how happy I am you two are here?
* * *
Upon denting my shoe.
Dad: Which shoe did you scuff up?
Me: The right one.
Dad: No, smartass. Which pair?
Me: (Maniacal giggles) The black pair.
Dad: Sigh. You really are my kid.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
MIGHT BE A SIGN OF DEMENTIA
I was busying myself by shoving clothing and accessories into our luggage when someone rapped at the door.
My dad went to open it and in walked my uncle. "You guys ready to leave?"
"Give us ten minutes," my mom replied. "We'll meet you in your room."
He nodded his assent and left. Mom and I went turned back to check the hotel room for anything we'd missed.
Someone rapped at our door again. I opened the door to my uncle, again.
"What the hell room am I in?" he asked, a look of confusion hiding any embarrassment there may have been.
Mom and I giggled maniacally as we lead him to his room.
This is the same uncle who this weekend lost his pitching wedge when it slipped out of his hands and into a swamp when he was golfing in the pouring rain.
I love my family.
My dad went to open it and in walked my uncle. "You guys ready to leave?"
"Give us ten minutes," my mom replied. "We'll meet you in your room."
He nodded his assent and left. Mom and I went turned back to check the hotel room for anything we'd missed.
Someone rapped at our door again. I opened the door to my uncle, again.
"What the hell room am I in?" he asked, a look of confusion hiding any embarrassment there may have been.
Mom and I giggled maniacally as we lead him to his room.
This is the same uncle who this weekend lost his pitching wedge when it slipped out of his hands and into a swamp when he was golfing in the pouring rain.
I love my family.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
TURNING BLUE
WE HAVE HAD A CASUALTY!
Okay, maybe not a casualty. BUT WE HAVE DEFINATLY HAD A MAIMING. A heinous, horrible maiming, and what a tragedy it is for us all.
Today, I scuffed my new shoe. By running a cart into the heel of it. Do not ask me how.
Grief has befallen my fair city, friends.
Oh sure, you might be saying, silly girl is making a big deal about a pair of shoes. But they were ONE OF A KIND! So special in fact that you can by me another pair here and here and probably a few other places like DSW where I originally got them but wins a prize for the SHITTIEST WEBSITE AROUND. Also, if you feel the need to assuage my grief even further, I would also accept these as a consolation prize.
Size 9.5, please. I wait with bated breath.
Okay, maybe not a casualty. BUT WE HAVE DEFINATLY HAD A MAIMING. A heinous, horrible maiming, and what a tragedy it is for us all.
Today, I scuffed my new shoe. By running a cart into the heel of it. Do not ask me how.
Grief has befallen my fair city, friends.
Oh sure, you might be saying, silly girl is making a big deal about a pair of shoes. But they were ONE OF A KIND! So special in fact that you can by me another pair here and here and probably a few other places like DSW where I originally got them but wins a prize for the SHITTIEST WEBSITE AROUND. Also, if you feel the need to assuage my grief even further, I would also accept these as a consolation prize.
Size 9.5, please. I wait with bated breath.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
NOT VERY GOOD AT THIS
In my high school days, you might be surprised to find out, I was NOT one of those girls who was interested in the bad boys.
I can tell you're in shock. I'll give you a minute to compose yourself (bastards).
No. No, I was much more interested in the guy who ended up being one of our three valedictorians. The only time I was ever interested in a bad boy was because he could draw. See, I was always attracted to the guys who were good at the things I wanted to be good at.
Nick was freaking brilliant. James was an amazing artist. Jamie could write what, at the time, I considered to be fantastic poetry. Not to mention he was my co-editor and we awkwardly smiled and flirted when no one was around to catch us.
And then there was Matt. He wasn't one of the trifecta, but he still had some potential. He could draw. Hell, I met him in sixth grade art class. He was smart enough to be in AP classes with me my junior year. And I'm pretty sure he might have had a crush on me.
Here's the stupid thing. I have never, EVER been good about realizing if someone is into me. And this hasn't gotten better with age.
There was a project we did our junior year for our History/English class. Everyone in class got to dress up in 20s attire and we had a Gatsby party (as in the Great Gatsby). We were so cool, in fact, the band nerds in class were playing us some big, bad swing. It was while the girls and I were cutting a rug when Matt walked up.
And he took my hand. And he asked me to dance. I assumed he meant he wanted to dance with all of us so I started to pull one of the girls along. And he said no. He just wanted to dance with me.
I was shocked because I didn't even think he liked me as a friend let alone asking me to dance IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE. With him. Just us.
The embarrassment! The humiliation! No, I'm not even kidding!
The poor bastard. I was stiff and awkward and terrified. I didn't say two whole words to him the entire time we danced our clumsy swing and it had nothing to do with me not being interested. Rather, it was because at that point in my life he was the first guy to ever show ANY interest in me at all. To top that off, I was always terrified of misinterpreting someone's intentions and making an ass of myself so I went with what was safe. I just never thought anyone was interested.
And that brings me to today.
I am still unassuming. I just don't think guys are into me. So it surprised me when a co-worker said we should hang out sometime, first getting a drink, then offering to go see a movie I (innocently) expressed interest in.
My mom told me not to take my clothes off on the first date. She's a real bitch sometimes.
I can tell you're in shock. I'll give you a minute to compose yourself (bastards).
No. No, I was much more interested in the guy who ended up being one of our three valedictorians. The only time I was ever interested in a bad boy was because he could draw. See, I was always attracted to the guys who were good at the things I wanted to be good at.
Nick was freaking brilliant. James was an amazing artist. Jamie could write what, at the time, I considered to be fantastic poetry. Not to mention he was my co-editor and we awkwardly smiled and flirted when no one was around to catch us.
And then there was Matt. He wasn't one of the trifecta, but he still had some potential. He could draw. Hell, I met him in sixth grade art class. He was smart enough to be in AP classes with me my junior year. And I'm pretty sure he might have had a crush on me.
Here's the stupid thing. I have never, EVER been good about realizing if someone is into me. And this hasn't gotten better with age.
There was a project we did our junior year for our History/English class. Everyone in class got to dress up in 20s attire and we had a Gatsby party (as in the Great Gatsby). We were so cool, in fact, the band nerds in class were playing us some big, bad swing. It was while the girls and I were cutting a rug when Matt walked up.
And he took my hand. And he asked me to dance. I assumed he meant he wanted to dance with all of us so I started to pull one of the girls along. And he said no. He just wanted to dance with me.
I was shocked because I didn't even think he liked me as a friend let alone asking me to dance IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE. With him. Just us.
The embarrassment! The humiliation! No, I'm not even kidding!
The poor bastard. I was stiff and awkward and terrified. I didn't say two whole words to him the entire time we danced our clumsy swing and it had nothing to do with me not being interested. Rather, it was because at that point in my life he was the first guy to ever show ANY interest in me at all. To top that off, I was always terrified of misinterpreting someone's intentions and making an ass of myself so I went with what was safe. I just never thought anyone was interested.
And that brings me to today.
I am still unassuming. I just don't think guys are into me. So it surprised me when a co-worker said we should hang out sometime, first getting a drink, then offering to go see a movie I (innocently) expressed interest in.
My mom told me not to take my clothes off on the first date. She's a real bitch sometimes.
CONVERSATIONS WITH COWORKERS
"How old are you now?"
"24."
"Yeah? I have a son about two years older than you."
"Oh? Is he single?"
"Yes, he is. He could really use a good woman."
"As in, not me, you mean?"
"I DIDN'T SAY THAT!"
"No, no. You're right. I'm sorry. So what does he do?"
"Actually, he lives in Alaska."
"Oh! I've always wanted to visit Alaska."
"He's currently living in a cabin with no running water."
"Yeah, not so keen on visiting that part of Alaska."
"24."
"Yeah? I have a son about two years older than you."
"Oh? Is he single?"
"Yes, he is. He could really use a good woman."
"As in, not me, you mean?"
"I DIDN'T SAY THAT!"
"No, no. You're right. I'm sorry. So what does he do?"
"Actually, he lives in Alaska."
"Oh! I've always wanted to visit Alaska."
"He's currently living in a cabin with no running water."
"Yeah, not so keen on visiting that part of Alaska."
Monday, September 03, 2007
KINKY EXPERIMENTATION
Oh Lawdy was my weekend wild.
Uncouth. Uncivilized. An exercise in futility.
You see, fair reader, I hate my hair. H-a-t-e. HATE-HATE-HATE-LOATHE-DETEST-HATE.
"But why?!" you might be screaming at your computer screen. Who WOULDN'T want thin, fine, oily yet frizzy, slightly wavy (but not in a good way) hair?
I made a decision this weekend that rather than fight with that oh so slight wave in my hair I should just accept the fact that my hair is just not pin-straight (or even at all managable) like Bean's. I should try to work with what God has given me.
"I don't mean to start any blasphemous rumors/but I think that God has a sick sense of humor." (not sure about the name of the band)
After spending a shit ton of money on "product" for my hair, I made an attempt to curl it.
Sigh.
I KNOW better. I know better than to think my hair will do ANYTHING AT ALL FAVORABLE when confronted with a heated chunk of metal.
So then I made an attempt to let it air dry.
With mixed results. Yeah, it sort of curled, but it was also sort of crunchy and looked like it needed brushed. Badly.
And now? Now I'm just looking for suggestions. HELP ME!
Uncouth. Uncivilized. An exercise in futility.
You see, fair reader, I hate my hair. H-a-t-e. HATE-HATE-HATE-LOATHE-DETEST-HATE.
"But why?!" you might be screaming at your computer screen. Who WOULDN'T want thin, fine, oily yet frizzy, slightly wavy (but not in a good way) hair?
I made a decision this weekend that rather than fight with that oh so slight wave in my hair I should just accept the fact that my hair is just not pin-straight (or even at all managable) like Bean's. I should try to work with what God has given me.
"I don't mean to start any blasphemous rumors/but I think that God has a sick sense of humor." (not sure about the name of the band)
After spending a shit ton of money on "product" for my hair, I made an attempt to curl it.
Sigh.
I KNOW better. I know better than to think my hair will do ANYTHING AT ALL FAVORABLE when confronted with a heated chunk of metal.
So then I made an attempt to let it air dry.
With mixed results. Yeah, it sort of curled, but it was also sort of crunchy and looked like it needed brushed. Badly.
And now? Now I'm just looking for suggestions. HELP ME!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
A LITTLE OFF THE TOP
I have two checking accounts. They're through the same bank and the entire reason I even have two is because I was the treasurer for my senior capstone college project.
There is about $45 left in that second account.
I graduated a year ago.
My mother has suggested I embezzled the money. Skimmed a little off the top, which is entirely unfair. I didn't skim from the top. I simply forgot to return from the bottom.
I HAD PLANNED TO! Honest! But things got hectic! And there was going to be a fee to close the account so soon after opening it! And really, everyone was only going to get back $1.25 and that just wasn't worth the effort. I only had the ONE CHANCE to get everyone together in ONE PLACE, and I failed.
Mom called it blood money.
I hold firm that I bled PLENTY for that God forsaken major and those pretentious pricks. I'm just saying.
So I made a decision. I am now going to take $50 from every paycheck and put it in that account. I'm considering the $45 a starter fee, restitution, blood money. AND MY CONSCIENCE IS CLEAR MOTHER!
With that money I'm going to buy myself a camera. Probably a Rebel. You know, a little something pretty.
Because I deserve it.
There is about $45 left in that second account.
I graduated a year ago.
My mother has suggested I embezzled the money. Skimmed a little off the top, which is entirely unfair. I didn't skim from the top. I simply forgot to return from the bottom.
I HAD PLANNED TO! Honest! But things got hectic! And there was going to be a fee to close the account so soon after opening it! And really, everyone was only going to get back $1.25 and that just wasn't worth the effort. I only had the ONE CHANCE to get everyone together in ONE PLACE, and I failed.
Mom called it blood money.
I hold firm that I bled PLENTY for that God forsaken major and those pretentious pricks. I'm just saying.
So I made a decision. I am now going to take $50 from every paycheck and put it in that account. I'm considering the $45 a starter fee, restitution, blood money. AND MY CONSCIENCE IS CLEAR MOTHER!
With that money I'm going to buy myself a camera. Probably a Rebel. You know, a little something pretty.
Because I deserve it.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKERS
Monday evening, as I was returning from my workout, I happened upon an older neighbor of mine. She was standing on her stoop and watering her flowers from a gallon jug. Not so much watering, actually, as DOUSING THEM AS IF THEY WERE ON FIRE.
She glanced at me, assessing my sweat stained tank top, and smiled warmly.
"You walk this hill every day you'll lose it."
Tuesday evening, as I was returning from my workout, I happened upon another neighbor of mine, this one the father of a young child. He seemed to be tarring the roof of his garage.
"You're dedicate," he said, looking down at me as he slide the broom (or squeegee or whatever the hell they use to tar roofs) gracefully back and forth.
"Pardon?"
"I said your dedicated. You're out here no matter how hot it is." (Which is not ENTIRELY true since I most certainly was NOT out there when the temperature was 102.)
Wednesday evening, as I was returning from my workout, a young woman in a van happened upon me.
"You're working out, aren't you?"
Why, yes. I suppose I am.
"I teach free, they're free, aerobics classes at the Mt. Auburn Recreation Center. You should check it out."
And I did.
And it'll cost me $15 to become a member FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR (which is less than HALF of what I paid A MONTH at the PLACE I WORK FOR).
And they have a pool.
(( jig ))
She glanced at me, assessing my sweat stained tank top, and smiled warmly.
"You walk this hill every day you'll lose it."
Tuesday evening, as I was returning from my workout, I happened upon another neighbor of mine, this one the father of a young child. He seemed to be tarring the roof of his garage.
"You're dedicate," he said, looking down at me as he slide the broom (or squeegee or whatever the hell they use to tar roofs) gracefully back and forth.
"Pardon?"
"I said your dedicated. You're out here no matter how hot it is." (Which is not ENTIRELY true since I most certainly was NOT out there when the temperature was 102.)
Wednesday evening, as I was returning from my workout, a young woman in a van happened upon me.
"You're working out, aren't you?"
Why, yes. I suppose I am.
"I teach free, they're free, aerobics classes at the Mt. Auburn Recreation Center. You should check it out."
And I did.
And it'll cost me $15 to become a member FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR (which is less than HALF of what I paid A MONTH at the PLACE I WORK FOR).
And they have a pool.
(( jig ))
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
ROLY POLY
"I win the Best Kid award."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"I called grandma."
"You're right. You win. Mom will be thrilled."
"Grandma mentioned to me she'd lost a bit of weight."
"Did she take off her shoes?"
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"I called grandma."
"You're right. You win. Mom will be thrilled."
"Grandma mentioned to me she'd lost a bit of weight."
"Did she take off her shoes?"
Monday, August 27, 2007
WRITING ABOUT NOT WRITING
Yeah, I'm definately going to watch Pan's Labyrinth tonight instead of blogging for you idiots charming and productive members of society.
I AM NOT YOUR PUPPET!
(I'll be back tomorrow.)
I AM NOT YOUR PUPPET!
(I'll be back tomorrow.)
Saturday, August 25, 2007
THINGS I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL MY NEIGHBORS
"Would you guys tell your friends to CALL YOU if they can't find your apartment rather than just picking a door and walking on in?"
Now, I've been a good neighbor. I haven't bitched and moaned about the guys upstairs running down the steps like they weigh 3 million pounds. Or reminded them that, typically, Sunday through Thursday nights are considered WORK NIGHTS.
But last night I made the egregious error of forgetting to lock my front door. (SHUT UP)
It was 1 in the morning. I was asleep. I SLEEP NAKED.
I woke up right as the dumb bitch stumbled into my room, looked at me, and turned around NEVER APOLOGIZING OR EVEN SHUTTING THE GOD DAMN DOOR BEHIND HER STUPID, COKE WHORE SMELLING ASS.
I helpfully yelled after her to "get the f*ck out."
I dressed so I could go lock the door behind her only to discover that my entire apartment REEKED as if she'd chain smoked an entire carton in my living room before wandering around in search of SOMEONE in the pitch black apartment.
Moron.
Now, I've been a good neighbor. I haven't bitched and moaned about the guys upstairs running down the steps like they weigh 3 million pounds. Or reminded them that, typically, Sunday through Thursday nights are considered WORK NIGHTS.
But last night I made the egregious error of forgetting to lock my front door. (SHUT UP)
It was 1 in the morning. I was asleep. I SLEEP NAKED.
I woke up right as the dumb bitch stumbled into my room, looked at me, and turned around NEVER APOLOGIZING OR EVEN SHUTTING THE GOD DAMN DOOR BEHIND HER STUPID, COKE WHORE SMELLING ASS.
I helpfully yelled after her to "get the f*ck out."
I dressed so I could go lock the door behind her only to discover that my entire apartment REEKED as if she'd chain smoked an entire carton in my living room before wandering around in search of SOMEONE in the pitch black apartment.
Moron.
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