Doom, Snow, and Santa

So apparently I doomed myself when I put up the “My life is awesome” post. My week old pleco died, work sucked, work sucked, felt like I wasn’t doing enough at home, blah, blah, blah. Oh, and my friend’s pit bull was shot and had to be put down. I’m so furious about it. In an attempt not to piss off the Fates again I’ll just tell you that my Thanksgiving was wonderful and Russia did pretty damn well for puppy surrounded by new things, new people, and FOOD!

This weekend Russia got to know the delight that is snow. Again, he proved that he’s definitely a member of the family because he loved it as much as the Boyfriend and I do. He also got his photo with Santa because I am obviously that crazy lady. It was also for a good cause!! All the proceeds went to the local Humane Society.

Unfortunately, while we were there, Russia got his nose ripped open by another dog. I’m having trouble being too upset at the dog because she was obviously terrified by all the activity, Russia thinks growling is apparently a come on, and she pooped on Santa. Yeah, you read that right. Thankfully, it was all cleaned up by the time we got there.

I hadn’t even realized Russia had been hurt, he acted fine! I saw some blood on the floor and even said “Oh, some dog is hurt, poor baby. I’m glad it’s not Russia!” Then the lady next to me pointed out his ripped up nose. It was swiftly taken care of with lots of kisses from me and the surrounding people, and the staff at the pet store got right on the blood and put some numbing powder on him. All better! He even tried to approach the dog who did it later. Flat learning curve there…

In non-doggie news, I can NOT believe how fast Christmas is sneaking up on me. I only have one present bought, dammit! I have one Christmas tree scented candle and candles for the windows. That’s it besides this cute sleigh decoration the Boyfriend’s mom got us. And my stuff was all bought yesterday. I’m sort of failing at this. But! Lights will be up and there will be jolliness around my house even if I have to kill someone. I doubt it will come to that.

What do you guys have up to make your holiday pretty and bright? Or are you in the same boat I am?

A Two Part Series About Why My Life Is Awesome Right Now: Part 1

We all know I’m obsessed with fish. To the point where I fully expect to walk into an intervention one day and have to cling to bathroom aquarium* sobbing as my family tells me to kick the habit. Well, I have spread my disease. First, it was to The Boyfriend and his family. They’re pretty fish saturated now, so what to do next? A fish tank for my office! Perfect!

When I asked the office manager if she thought it would be okay, she thought it was such a good idea she wanted me to present the idea of having a waiting room fish tank for the whole office at the next community meeting. Seriously? Awesome, I’ll get right on that!

So I brought it up. I explained that I could do the care and maintenance. Another girl offered to help, we talked about cost and everyone agreed it was a great idea. I was charged with asking the new local pet shop if they’d throw us a discount or something if we put up a sign.

Cue me walking into my new favorite pet store. I stopped to play with the baby guinea pigs (*squeeeeee!* so cute!!) and then got down to business. How would they like to make a deal? Well, they wanted to deal. So I have got a FREE 20 gallon kit set up in the waiting room ready for the FREE fish I’ll be putting in later this afternoon. Oh, and the lovely gravel and decorations? Why I do believe they were discounted for us. BAM! I am so damn happy about this. Everyone loves the aquarium, and they’re so excited for the fish. They want to have a naming contest for the little guys.

I’m so shocked and pleased at how quickly this has all come together. Love it! You’ll get part 2 as soon as I have free time. So probably in another month.

 

 

 

*I don’t have a bathroom aquarium. Yet.

Letters to the Editor

I totally stole this idea from Shaba. I hope she forgives me. Or at least decides to punch me in person so I can see her. (I kid, if she didn’t punch Bitch/Ghost Roommate, I’m totally safe. Especially since I think she’ll be amused.)

Dear Coworker,

We work with the mentally ill. You know this client very well. You know how sensitive he is and how badly he gets thrown when his schedule is disrupted without notice and without an explanation. Is he a bit of a child about it? Yes, but THAT’S HIS FUCKING ILLNESS!! Do NOT just blow off plans with him and not explain it so that he has to come crying to me because you’re “mean” him and “don’t show respect”.

A Swift Kick in the Balls,

The Frazzled New Girl Who Apparently Knows More Than You

 

Dear Lady in the POS Chevy,

I understand that obviously your life and your business is far more important then my meaningless existence. However… that doesn’t make it okay for you to ride my ass in a 25 zone when I’m already doing 40. I’m already going pretty fucking fast for a twisty road, you bitch. Oh, and when we get to the stop sign, where there’s the fork to make it easier to go right of left DO NOT MAKE LIKE YOU’RE GOING RIGHT TO FUCKING CUT ME OFF BECAUSE I WASN’T GOING FAST ENOUGH, YOU USELESS WASTE OF SPERM AND EGG! You are so fucking lucky I didn’t hit you. Probably because I can actually control my vehicle.

Fuck You,

The Purple Faced Screaming Turtle

 

Dear Other Driver,

I understand that I might have a road rage issue. That was addressed in the above letter. Still, I sort of figured it was basic driving knowledge that when one side of the road is clear, that doesn’t make it a good driving decision to pull out of the parking lot and into the other lane when that lane side has ohhhh… five or six cars in it. Just a thought.

No, I won’t Let You In,

The Still Pissed Crazy Girl

 

Dear Self,

You should probably work on the anger level and response. We’d really like to avoid an aneurism. Oh, and jail. We’d like to avoid that too.

Thanks Bunches,

Me

My Weekend Condensed in One Rambling Post

I guess I should update you since my life is kind of awesome right now. We’ll start out with some of the less awesome, but still interesting* stuff. You know how I’m addicted to fish**? Well, now I’m apparently addicted to plants as well. I walked into Lowes intending to buy potting soil and some cheap (but pretty!) pots to do some seeding and re-potting. Yeah, walked out with two more plants and had to restrain myself from getting any cacti. WANTS!!! One of the plants, in fact the one that broke my no buying plants rule in the store, I have no clue how to care for. No one knows what it is and it came with no care stick. I looked all over the place, none of them did. So yeah, I know how a plant I have no clue how to care for because it was “pretty”. I’m doomed.

The best/worst part? The Boyfriend is encouraging me. Says we don’t have enough green in the house. Yeah, we also don’t have enough sun for most plants! *whimpers* I’m also apparently doomed to live in places with awful window placement. It’s not as bad as the apartment at least.

Moving on… Saturday I went with one of my coworkers to get tattoos. FINALLY! After years of wanting and waffling, I finally have my lotus. It’s beautiful, healing nicely, and apparently I’m a freak of nature because everyone including the artist said “Are you sure you want it there? That shit’s going to huuuurt!” It was a little teeth clenching in some spots, but mostly just fine. Weird. My artist was wonderful and lovely as well. She is a total doll and I would let her tattoo whenever. I highly recommend White Mountain Tattoo, my coworker had a great experience too.

Oh yeah, and then Sunday night WE FINALLY GOT RUSSIA!!! Thank god my friend worked in the organization because otherwise we would still be waiting… don’t get me started on the lady doing transport. She forgot a dog in NC and realized in NY and wanted to turn around. Fucking idiot. She’s as fired as a volunteer can get and Meg got my puppy. We met up in Salem and took him home. He’s the biggest bundle of love you can imagine. He’s 21 pounds, silky black, and has the sharpest puppy teeth I’ve ever encountered. He’s going to be huge and he’s going to try his damnedest to be a lap dog. We’re so in love. And so tired because he does NOT like the crate when we’re sleeping. Other times are fine, but how dare we try to sleep apart from him! Never mind that his crate is right next to the bed.

I’ll try to remember to update with photos when I get home.

So… how are your lives awesome right now?

 

 

*I meant interesting me, not you, silly.

**For those of you who have stumbled on this without really knowing me, I have a lot of tanks, with a lot of fish… a lot. I’ve already got my next fish purchases planned out and I haven’t even moved all of mine up from my parents’. Don’t tell my mom.

Why Yesterday Sucked and How it was Made Better

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

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

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!

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

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

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.

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