The Red Threads That Tie Us…

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Archive for the month “October, 2009”

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.”



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?


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.

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

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.


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.

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