Why Yesterday Sucked and How it was Made Better

{ November 4, 2009 @ 3:07 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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Yesterday was supposed to be amazing. I was finally going to get Chinese dumplings (yaaaay!) and I was going to try making Bolognese sauce for the first time for dinner. Well, the dinner got tanked almost immediately. The Boyfriend’s parents had pasta the night before and wanted to relax in their own home for a night. So move that to Thursday, no big deal.

Then I get to work, pleased because I have a fairly full schedule and I’m the kind of freak that wants to work if I’m getting paid. I know, weeeirdo. I take care of my first client, scoring a delicious hot coffee on the way back for the both of us. Then I get to the parking lot and see This Guy. This Guy is not my client, but we all take care of each other’s clients when we can, so I’ve dealt with him before. This Guy is angry at the world, feels totally abused, and it a tall, built, heavily tattooed man with a gruff, rumbling voice and isn’t afraid to get in your face. Basically, the kind of guy who scares normal people, but I brush off because I have no survival instinct. I mean, because I’ve dealt with this type a lot and if he wasn’t also an asshole, we might be friends.

Well, This Guy wants to know why the fuck his case manager isn’t here if her van is. Never mind this is a common van, OBVIOUSLY it’s hers because he wants to talk to her. So I tell him I have to deal with some things, have appointments, but I’ll try to squeeze in some time for him to get some things taken care of. Fine, he wanders off.

I pop into the waiting room to find my 1130 decided that 945 was a good time to meet. This Guy starts getting angry, wanting to know how long this will take which when I get all frosty and tell him this is why appointments are made. He terrifies my 1130-turned-945, who is now calling me worried This Guy is going to punch him. 1130-turned-945 and I get some things signed and I remind him why we’re meeting at 1130 and return to deal with This Guy. Fine, we’ll get shit from your old apartment to your new place and stop at the doctor’s, but I HAVE to be back by 1130.

I almost punched a client that day. He was driving me crazy with his “two seconds!” “one minute!” “three more minutes!”. Look, I understand that you have a mental illness BUT NARCISSIM IS NOT SOMETHING WE DEAL WITH HERE!!! Everything was about him and how things weren’t being done right for him. Ugh. Then, as it’s 1124 and I have six minutes to make a 15 minute drive, he wants to have a discussion about my name and its meanings!!! So I broke a few speed limits and arrived for the 1130 appointment at 1140.

Everything was going to be better because we were going to lunch and I was getting Chinese dumplings! Yay! What? You want to go to… McDonald’s? Fuck. Fine. Get in the car.

Then my milkshake hurt my tummy, but that’s nothing. Last client of the day, we’re having a great time, I’m relaxing, she’s doing pretty well for her. We have to go back to Radio Shack for the second time that day to exchange something. Halfway through this, the employee leans over and in a stage whisper, in front of my client says, “Ummm… your fly is unzipped.”

SHIT! I handle it, saying “Whoops, that’s an issue,” and fixing it, thinking to myself thank GOD today was an underwear day! because these are not pants that pull “fly down” with grace and quiet dignity. Also, why didn’t this guy tell me before? Or my client? Or the many other people I interacted with since my last bathroom break? Thankfully, it was eventually addressed so the number of people who got to admire my new stripy boyshorts was mercifully minimized.

So how was this day saved without me hitting my head and being a giant whiner? (Obviously I failed at not being a giant whiner…) The Boyfriend declared that since dinner plans had fallen through and I didn’t get Chinese for lunch, we should have it for dinner.

So we did. And it was glorious. Yes, Gentle Readers, I did finally get my goddamn dumplings and while the outside was yummy, but not the yummiest, the inside was SCRUMPTIOUS! Understand that my dumpling eating usually involves me taking a few tiny bites of the inside meat and flicking the rest away. It also involves my mother twitching and swearing when I do this. So when I say I ate the ENTIRE dumpling, it is a major thing. Majorly delicious.

And thus, we end this outrageously long post on a high note. Thank the Dumpling Gods.

Tombstone Humor

{ October 23, 2009 @ 9:09 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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My friend X thinks I should become a comedian. I feel it could work. Especially if you like social awkward comedians who never quite know when to stop. Oh wait! That’s everyone.

I can see the tombstone now. “She was hysterical. If you liked talking about poop and dead people.”

Beautiful.

This is Why I Can’t Have Nice Things. Because I Can’t Make Decisions

{ October 23, 2009 @ 3:15 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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If you have read but a single post, you are already aware of something. I have issues. If you are my friend and dealt with me on a personal level, you’re aware those issues are both blown out of proportion and I’M FUCKING CRAZY. You also still love me anyway. Wait, which one of us is crazy again?

So my latest issue is my tattoo. I’ve wanted a tattoo since… well, as long as I can remember knowing what one was. Yes, feel bad for my parents. I also told my mother I wanted a black leather wedding dress. That’s beside the point.

The point is, I promised myself a tattoo for a graduation present. I’ve had a design I love picked out for close to two years now. Still love it. The Boyfriend convinced me I should wait till I know I can pay the bills before paying someone to stab ink into my nether regions. I grudgingly accepted that maybe I should at least pretend to be a grown up first.

Well, it’s fucking November, I got hired in June and I can pay the bills. I even went to the tattoo parlor I picked, knowing the artist I wanted and spoke to people. (Yipee, big deal, I know) My coworker is planning one for her birthday. Okay, I’ll go with her in two weeks. And make the Boyfriend go even if he doesn’t really want to because dammit this will hurt and it’s important yes, he should go. Oh god, please go with me.

I have problems with body changes. It’ll take me up to a month after I decide I need a hair cut to actually book the appointment. The only piercings I didn’t hesitate for were my ears and my navel. My last one took forever for me to work up the courage to get. I liked how that area looked without metal, what if it changed things, blah, blah, blah. Well, piercings can be removed, so I got it. And I love it.

Tattoos can’t be removed. Easily. And I don’t mind how that area looks without ink. And other such panicky thoughts. Because I am a coward. I’m having two thoughts on placement.

Part of me wants it on my back because a) I’ve been told a tattoo would look stunning on me there and b) I wouldn’t have to look at it ALL the time. Just when I wanted. But the term “tramp stamp” annoys me to no end and I’d have to punch anyone who heckled me. It would get messy. Or no one would care because I blow things out of proportion.

The other part wants me to go with the original placement idea, which was, as one person put it, above my “magical baby hole” or as I like to refer to it, my lower stomach. I know, his term is more classy. It’s a good spot, easily hidden and my original idea. And I have no clue where I want it more.

Any suggestions? Other then “don’t get it, you idiot”. Because that’s not helpful, mom. And how did you find this place anyway?!

TMI Thursday. On Tuesday!

{ October 20, 2009 @ 2:50 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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So who’s ready for some TMI Tuesday? Because I’m too bored to wait for Thursday and I always lose my blog idea before I write it down. THAT”S the real reason this doesn’t get updated regularly, not because of my crippling laziness. Really. Shut up.

Fun Fact: I get canker sores like some people get pregnant. Often and with terrible results. (That was offensive. Switch it to “like some people abducted… much better.) Seriously, I get them all the time, usually in multiples and this has happened as far back as I can remember. I am what some people like to refer to as a “hot mess”. Or just super gross, whatever, you know you want to date me.

Luckily, a canker sore is NOT contagious. Unlike a cold sore, which looks like a massive pimple that someone punched and then sandpapered. Those are contagious, as I found out in my Catholic school religion class when they went over STDs and I found out THAT YOU COULD GET ONE WITHOUT EVER HAVING SEX!!* Apparently, you can just touch the cold sore, touch your bathing suit area and BAM you have herpes. Color me totally freaked out and imagining myself with every disease ever and none of the fun to go along with it. Stupid religion class. Ignore the fact that I’ve never had a cold sore, by god I still had the diseases. And the lack of sex.

SO, while it’s not contagious, it is still a cesspool of nasty, ugly pain that makes regular activities difficult and sometimes impossible. Eating? Better hope you can chew on one side! And that your canker sores stuck to one side. Even kissing hurts (although who wants to kiss someone with mouth sores? I’m grossed out and it’s me!) and I love kissing, so that sucks.

However, they have gotten fewer and farther between as I’ve aged. I remember the worst time was when I jumped into a highly chlorinated pool and got a fucking ring of them around the inside of my lips. Yeah. I also have no clue why the chlorine did that to me. So, that pretty much meant that eating, laughing, smiling, and anything enjoyable was out. Did I mention I was on vacation when this happened, so laughing, smiling, and eating were supposed to be in abundance? Vacation Fail.

So why did I give you this disgusting story? Because I have one currently that nearly ruined my beef stew and I’d pout about it, but pouting hurts too. And as the Philosopher knows, I love sharing horrible, gross stuff. P.S. Philosopher, to make up for this, I recently found out there is E.T. porn. Yes, I am having nightmares while awake. Did that make up for this story? You’re welcome.

*Actually true, despite being told to me by a Catholic school. Horrifying, isn’t it?

6Things

{ October 16, 2009 @ 10:24 am } · { Uncategorized }
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6 Weird Things You May Not Know about Me Even If We’ve Been Friends Forever

1)      While I will gleefully tell brand new acquaintances (and anyone unfortunate to be close enough to hear) tales of my bathroom adventures, I am strangely sneaky and uncomfortable about people knowing by SEEING how often I go to the bathroom in public places like work. Seriously. I will use different bathrooms to throw people off, I’ll dart from my room to the potty after checking to make sure doors are closed, and other random things. I know, I’m a freak.

2)      Sex is one of my favorite topics to talk about, from sex ed to what you did last night with who, and oh my god, that sounds amazing! However, while I want to hear all about everyone else’s sex life, I can be very reluctant to share stories of my sexual experiences. Not sure why. Part of it is I like secrets, part of it is remnants of my crippling shyness.

3)      I love the sky. I think it would be amazing to fly, but mostly I watch the sky because I love the colors, the cloud formations, the stars, everything about it.

4)      I have to get all of the bits of soup or whatever out of the pot. I hate when something is left to dry and stick to the cooking vessel. Not because it makes cleaning a little more difficult, but because I feel bad that bit of food got left out. Obviously because all food really wants is to be eaten. We can all blame my mother for this one, folks.

5)      I apparently have an enlarged colon. We’re not sure why and now that I have insurance, we can find out why! Strangely, this might be connected to why I have such massive flatulence and “gastrointestinal issues” as I like to refer to my hour long bathroom session (see Weird Thing 1). Also bad breath (aren’t I a catch? Count your blessings the Boyfriend). So basically all the sexy problems I have could be linked to some weird inflamed thing down there. That or I’ve been infected by aliens.

6)      I wanted to be a fashion designer for awhile. I still do a little.

NOW YOU KNOW! You are so lucky. Treasure it.

Death Day 2009

{ October 14, 2009 @ 1:47 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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Yesterday was fun day in which I mean I’m still not sure how I feel about surviving it. I blame a portion of the day on alcohol, but that doesn’t account for an entire day feeling like death or actively praying for death. Or throwing up. I would have been okay with that too. Thanks, blinding headache/migraine/illness! I actually tried to make myself throw up at one point (don’t you love when I tell you things?) but that was no go. Apparently I can only vomit when I don’t want to, not when I’m trying to, no matter how shitty my stomach feels.

Luckily I was cured with the power of snuggles, whining, and probably an overdose level of Excedrin Migraine and Motrin. Mixing medications is fun! Don’t tell the Boyfriend… because he totally never reads this…

I’m not at 100%, but I feel well enough to live and plot the demise of the woman delaying the arrival of my puppy. And I had a good time before the Death took hold (see: alcohol consumption) because my friend Gannon came to visit before leaving for Iraq. It was definitely worth staying up till 230 am on a work night to maximize our hang out time. Love him to pieces.

We also had lunch the Day of Death where my hamburger was so good that even through the illness I was totally overcome by the deliciousness. I will probably dream about it in all honesty. When you come visit me, we’re going to Hillbilly’s and eating. You can try their barbeque if you want, but the burgers are the real treat. Philosopher… we’ll figure something out. They have corn bread and a salad bar?

To top off my day, I confused the hell out of one of my clients because he got my cell phone number and I missed a call from him. When I saw it, I thought it was lady who swears one day she’ll transport our dog, so I called and used my other name, speaking in a friendly rather than professional voice.  Yeah, he’s totally confused and I’ve probably broken him. Whoops.

In Which I Cry and Ingore People Who Tell Me it’s Fine.

{ October 12, 2009 @ 8:45 am } · { Uncategorized }
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Russia’s not coming today. Why? Because there was a giant lack of communication during transport. So starting the third week since he was adopted and he’s not here yet. I was told maybe sometime this week, she’d let me know. The transporter who couldn’t be bothered to call my friend (who was trying to help save 15 dogs) until 11 at night, after contacting me at five, making it too late for him to go.

Forgive me if I’m upset and lack confidence in anything to do with this right now. I’m sorry if I’m totally over reacting. I just want my dog.

I can never adopt a child. If I can’t pull off three weeks and a few disappointments, I’d never survive adopting a human baby.

Autumn

{ October 8, 2009 @ 10:20 am } · { Uncategorized }
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Mmmmm, I love autumn. I also just totally butchered that spelling. Thanks, SpellCheck! Who apparently doesn’t recognize its own name. How sad.

Right, I was driving to a client’s house yesterday and it was the perfect autumn day. It was crisp, and smelled so fresh.  It had rained, so all the colors were at their brightest and I had moments of pure blue sky highlighting colors and then moments of dark grey clouds making the colors just pop, especially in the reflections on the lake. It was a gorgeous drive through the country and there were so many times I wanted to stop and take a picture. On my return trip, I told myself. Well, it was pouring on my way back, so no pictures. Oh well. I wish I had words to describe all the shades of colors, but you have to see it to believe it.

But on rides like that I just find myself imagining I’m in a fairy world, because it doesn’t seem possible that all these colors and all this freshness can be truly real, it has to be a little magical, right? Perhaps I’m never going to grow up in that sense of my imagination, but that makes me very happy. Why would I want to give up these thoughts?

It would be wonderful if I had my puppy* and a cup of hot spiced cider, but that’s not happening today. Maybe a cup of office hot chocolate instead?

*The Boyfriend and I adopted a puppy. Most of you know about it already, so expect a post when he finally arrives ON MONDAY!!! I’m so excited.

For Sammy

{ September 25, 2009 @ 2:03 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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I was hoping my next post was going to be happy. Then last night happened. No, no, I’m fine, my relationship is fine, and my assorted animals (including a new betta because I need a support program) are fine with the exception of a goldfish that has bubbles. Not as cute as it sounds, also more deadly then it sounds, but he’s being treated.

No, this is a story about a dog. If you’re eating or faint of heart, seriously skip this and come back for the next update.

My friend helps run a rescue organization I support when I can that rescues dogs from high kill shelters down south, puppy mills, and surrenders. Basically if there is a dog no one else will take and he or she needs help, Help Save One is there, breaking the bank to do what they can for that dog. I get my heart broken constantly on Urgents page, but last night I skipped over to the Pawsitive (gag) Causes after the Boyfriend once again denied my plea for one of the Rottweiler/Red Doberman puppies.

That’s where I saw Sammy. Sammy is this big, beautiful, tawny dog, who was a stray that a family was feeding. Then Sammy went missing for two days. When he returned, it looked like someone had taken his eyes and ripped them out, replacing them with smashed plums. Someone had tortured this animal, either beating him so badly around his head that his eyes swelled and popped or they had been punctured. Yet, even with all that damage, he made it back to the house that was feeding him.

I couldn’t help it. I immediately burst into tears seeing the pictures of him. The Boyfriend came back to find me like this and just held me while I explained. Oh god, even now the thought of it is making me a little teary. Who could do that? Why would they do that? I know, I know, there are so many fucked up, awful reasons, but STILL!

Instead of just putting him down like almost anyone would, Help Save One is working with them to give Sammy a better life. His eyes had to be removed, there was nothing really there to save. But he’s alive, he has his nose, and hopefully he will find the love he deserves in a permanent home.

I’m sorry to talk about something so awful, but I couldn’t keep Sammy to myself. I think places like Help Save One are wonderful, something that helps me keep from despairing over humanity that could do something like this to an animal, or anything. For every miserable piece of shit out there, there are more people working to make it better.

They are actively searching for the person or people who hurt Sammy. I want them to die painfully, but I think the Boyfriend has a better wish – he hopes they live painfully, with someone taking their eyes.

Help Save One is an great organization and if you have an extra dollar, or a moment to click a vote button, I highly recommend you do so. All the Sammys deserve a chance. And if you’re looking for a new addition to your life, they’ve also reduced a lot of their adoption fees. The site is here.

Update: I have wonderful news. The foster family that took Sammy in loved him so much they’re adopting him. He’s adjusted really well to not having eyes and is living that happy, loving life he deserves.

Hot Pepper Weekend

{ September 24, 2009 @ 9:55 am } · { Uncategorized }
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Hi there, Face here. OH MY GOD, FLASHBACK!! *ahem* Sorry, I can’t always contain myself. I also don’t try very hard. Is Face still doing Nick Jr.? I promise not to judge you if you know. (That’s almost probably a lie)

So this weekend I picked apples, made an amazing apple crisp, made apple sauce and transported two large, homicidal angel fish across two state lines. They were surprisingly docile and everyone is alive and happy. Fun Fact: When transporting larger fish, a bucket and a garbage bag are the tested and approved form of container. I know, your lives are suddenly so enriched by that knowledge. Oh, and you definitely wish you could taste my apple crisp*.

I also got a hair cut yesterday, which is a little short, but hey, hair grows (and I told her to do it, I’m adventurous) and two people have already given me compliments. Whether they were the sincere type versus the “Sweet Jesus, I have to say something nice!” type I will probably never know.

Oh, and I also got two miniature hot pepper plants that are ADORABLE! I will have to take a picture for you, as I found no good links for them.

We’re also into the house now, which is Full of Happy for the most part. There are still Things that need to be Ironed Out, but for the most part it is a place of joy, carpeting, guinea pig hiding, and glowing fish tanks. That last part alone basically guarantees that Shaba will have to think long and hard before visiting me.

Well, now that I’ve bombarded you with information you couldn’t live without, I’ll let you get back to that other thing you were doing. I also promise that there might be something more interesting up later.

*Probably not a euphemism.

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