Monday, June 8, 2009

Monday. Suck.

This is my morning:

Wake up to the sound of my mom getting ready for work. Ugh. Mom. Why so early? I mean, I wake up around 5:10am to go to the gym, but there's something really crazy about waking up before 5. Fall back asleep.

Wake up to the sound of Bombay
barfing all over my bed. Of course I laundered all of the bed clothes last night. Of course the barf was gross enough to seep through multiple layers, thus requiring multiple blankets to be torn off, dragged downstairs and thrown in the washer. At 4:35am.

Walking through the kitchen on my way to attempt going back to sleep for 20 minutes or so, I hear BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZZZ. A buzzing sound. A buzzing of a bee- or wasp-like animal sound. BZZZZZZZZZ. So, of course I start flailing my arms around like crazy because by the sound of the BZZZZZZZZZZZZ, whatever that thing is, is damn close to me. But, after flailing for a few minutes and still hearing the BZZZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZ. I realize... no, no, it's not close to me, it is on me. So I do what any other normal person would do and rip my clothes off right there in the entry way of the home at 4:41 am. I now can hear the BZZZZZZZZZZZ coming from my clothes. I determine it is the pants. I know I need to smash it, but am terrified of getting a sting through the thin pants. I run to the kitchen to grab a towel and proceed to stomp and slam my hands down on the pants until I no longer hear BZZZZZZ BZZZZ. People, this took alarmingly longer than you would think. Mind you, I am practically nude and basically just praying nobody can see me through the windows and that my dad doesn't wake up and walk out to see what all the ruckus is about. Luckily, neither of those two things happened. At least to my knowledge. I did manage to find and set the GIANT WASP that was inside my pants (HOW? OH MY GOD. HOW? WHY?) aside for your viewing pleasure.

4:47am (guess)
I go back to the bathroom to tell my mom what happened because I can't even believe it. She says, oh good, be careful because things like this always happen in threes. So...

I realize I am awake and should get ready for the gym now, then try and sleep for a minute before I pick up Kristin. So, I get ready then go down to the couch to lie down for a while before gym time. I think the third thing is happening to me, when the second I close my eyes, Bohemian Rhapsody enters my head and will not leave. BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY? Seriously? WHY?

After my futile attempts at sleeping, I am walking out the door, pre-gym snack in hand to pick Kristin up when, for sure, the third thing happens and I spill my milk all down my leg.


Monday, May 18, 2009

I know a designer.

So. This happened:
Jenna and I attended the Living Traditions festival on Saturday. Then the Bees game. The following incident occurred on our walk from Living Traditions back to the car.

We were standing on the corner of 4th South and State, waiting to cross.
A man (looks normal) of about, mmmm… 50 years, wearing khakis and a button-down shirt approaches. Smoking.

Man (to me): Hey… that shirt looks really good on you.
Me: Thanks.
Man (kinda looking at my chest): No. I mean, it looks REALLY good.
Me: Um, thanks.

Man (now just blatantly staring at my bosom): I mean… REALLY. That shirt looks amazing on you.
Me: Ha, um… good. Thanks.

We now begin crossing the road.

Man: Have you ever had anyone tell you before how good that shirt looks on you?
Me: No. Thank you.
Man: I mean, REALLY. It looks really good.
Me: Thank you.
Man (eyes still totally on the chest, by the way): I think that might be your color.
Me: Thank you, I have been told that before. Therefore, I wear this color at least fortnightly.

We have now reached the other side.

Man: You know… I’m a designer. So I really know about these things.
Me: Pfffft! Ha. Um, ahem, oh, yes, you are? Good.

Jenna is now reaching a level of extreme nervousness. My plan is to get to Junior’s (the bar). I know we will be safe there.

Get ready. This is the best part.

Man: So, hey, I’m on my way to a photo shoot right now…
Jenna: Hey! I think I forgot my… (unintelligible).
Me: Yeah. You did. Let’s go get it.

We turned. We walked briskly. We laughed.

Really? The photo shoot line? Come on...

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Alright. It has to be said.

Everyone loves facebook, right? I seriously love it. It's a great way to keep up and catch up with people who I don't get to see or talk to all the time, even a great way to get to know people you just met, etc. etc. It's fantastic. Really, all-around tremendous.

You want to know what's NOT fantastic? Signing in to see pictures of your idiotic, awkward, chubby, idiotic, ugly, dumb, fashion-challenged, idiotic, elementary school, junior high school, high school, collegiate, what-have-you self plastered and tagged all over facebook.


I know a lot of y'all are married with babies and all settled down. And impressing people isn't at the top of your priority list. Well, I wish I could just flit around and say that I don't care what anyone thinks. BUT I DO. And I'm still "out there" you know? Single girl! Living it up! The last thing I need is for a potential date or, you know, professional acquaintance even, to see, is me in my stupid Halloween costume back in '89. Or... I don't know, me acting like a moron with one pant leg rolled up and a ribbon around my head running around like a jackass in the Kappa House. And these are just a couple of examples. A few of many really.

And I have to say that frantic untagging isn't really my jam. I hate the terror that courses through my veins wondering how many people, who, who has seen these photos in the hours that have passed betwixt their posting and my untagging. I really hate that feeling. And I'm never truly satisfied when I've untagged; because I know they're still out there. Still on the internet. Lurking. Waiting to be seen or god forbid, retagged by some well-meaning friend.

Don't get me wrong my dear friends, my treasured loved ones! Those were the days! And it was awesome! And we had a blast! My goodness, the memories! BUT IT'S OVER. And that's the stuff that photo albums and scrap books are for. NOT SOCIAL NETWORKING.

Social. Networking. Get it?

I love you.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Parting is such sweet sorrow

So. I was getting ready to go out last Tuesday evening and my dad was playing in the yard with his new ladder so I was kind of looking out the window and chuckling to myself about it.

When he was finished with that, he decided to put the ladder away and pull the cars into the driveway. So I see him get in my car and try to start it and he gets this funny look on his face... then he starts it, and gets a funnier look and takes off driving it. Of course I am puzzled because I have noticed not a thing wrong whilst driving. So I go outside and wait for him to pull up.

When he does come back around the block... copious amounts of smoke are coming out the back of it.

He rolls down the window.

Dad: Hey, there's something really wrong with this car.

Me: Yeah, I see that.

Dad: Did you ever notice all this smoke before?

Me: NO dad. I am not a moron. I would have noticed the LITERALLY INSANE AMOUNT OF SMOKE coming out of the car.

Dad: You can't drive this thing.

Me: Okay.

So anyway, we took it in, the guy called, said it's a gasket of some kind and that it's $1400 to fix. And while my car is cool, it is not worth that kind of money. So we have spent some days mulling it over. Is it worth paying to save a car payment? Or what if some other $1400 mishap occurs in the next few months? Etc. Etc.

Then my parents went to a party on Saturday night and met a mechanic/car guy/Christopher Walken look-alike who said we would be complete idiots to get it fixed. So, I have to buy a new car. Ugh. I have never bought a car. Good times.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Wipe away the tears...


Did you miss me? I know you did. I missed you too, my sweet pets.

Guess what? Been super busy. With what in particular I’m not very sure, but I can name a couple of things. I also probably just got stupid and lazy when it came to maintaining my blog.

First of all. I’ll start with the picture you’re looking at. That’s me a month or so ago at
Reade’s. I’ve got on a really terrible shirt over my normal shirt that some chick gave to her. If you have one shirt that is really kind of but not really two shirts that you bought that are sewn together and made of horrifying synthetic materials… don’t ever wear it.

I’m also holding a yam in a pan. For which, there is no explanation.

I know it’s of the utmost importance for you to know what I’ve been doing. And when I think about it, um, I don't really know but I’ve basically been spending lots of time with friends and family. We do the funniest things like go to monster truck rallies and eat dinner. We also sometimes go to the bar at 4pm on a Saturday. So there.

There were also the holidays. Which, I always love. But, the older I get (I know I am SO OLD!!!) the more issues I begin to have with them.

I went to Sundance with Dirk again of course and for a real good explanation and some breathtaking pictures of that I suggest you go here. I assure you; you will not be disappointed. And also have a look at this video. I made this for Steven, Jenna’s husband, who is in Iraq. Driving credits to Dirk, filming credits to Jenna. PLEASE NOTE: This is a result of 100% pure sleep deprivation, no toxins of any kind were involved in the making of this video. Unless you count cinnamon.

Oh. I started school again! It’s going to be a long haul. But someday I’m going to be a Speech Language Pathologist. So, that’s been taking up lots of my time and lots of my energy that I save up for stress. Because, by god, I love stress. Who doesn’t?! Seriously though people, I think that if I can make it through this, it will be totally awesome and worth it.

Kickball has also become a factor in my life. I am on a team and everything. Without a doubt, this will ensure some stories about, well, kickball. I'm guessing they'll be pretty funny though because it's a game played by adults running around in a park kicking a ball.

I’ve also done some other crap that is NOT worth discussing. Like dating. Ugh.

I write at this time because I am really keen these days on getting back into blogging about whatever I think is funny or dumb. Because those are my two favorite topics!

I love you.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Don’t Do This #2

Do not, when using a rather small public restroom, and sitting alone in your closed stall suddenly yell “ANGIE! ANGIE!” the second I walk into the door; causing me to become startled, confused, and mostly to wonder if I need to say something like, “No… I’m not Angie.” Or... "Somebody come quickly. There's a crazy loon in the women's restroom!"

DO NOT, at the point when I decide things have calmed down and it’s cool for me to do what I came to do, suddenly start talking again – ON THE PHONE.



Do I even need to explain the myriad, various and sundry ins and outs of how completely inappropriate this is?

Look. I don’t care if you talk to people on the phone in the bathroom in your own home. But please. For the love of god, do not involve me and my personal and private matters in these types of things. Good grief! I could barf.