Scenes from a couch

JD (with a crumb filled can of Pringles): I'll let you drink the rest of the chips.

LOVE

Scenes from a party planner

JD and I are attending my corporate holiday event. It is formal.
In unrelated information, he asked me to bring him home a tripple chocolate donut from Tim Hortons today.

Me: GET YOUR FANCY SHOES ON WE'RE GOING TO A PARTY!
Him: I need to start starving myself to fit into my suit.
Me: We can buy you some Spanx. I'll be wearing them.
Him: Hah. I'll start doing sit ups and push ups.
Him: !!! I need to start them after I eat my Donut.

Sunday morning, a comic strip

In writing, JD drank a lot Saturday night. He left a bottle with about 20% of the beer left in the bottom, on the floor. I should mention here, that he has allowed Radar to lick the empty beer bottles. When I woke up Sunday morning, JD wasn't in bed. He was in the guest room sleeping on his old bed. I went in there for a while, but couldn't stop thinking about Sunday Morning on CBS, the Sunday news, and juice. I got out of bed and walked downstairs to find Radar furiously licking the carpet. Upon further examination, I found the beer bottle shoved under the couch. So, at 8:30am Sunday morning, I had to move the couch and clean the carpet to get the beer stains out.

In other news, I endorse this:

See? I'm not dead. AND I got a camera for my birthday

Grinds my gears

I am very specific and detailed when I explain a problem. VERY. I type and rewrite and take out the crap and stick to the important points.

Example: We have a new way to clock in at work. It doesn't work for me. I followed the directions exactly and took screen shots of the pages I get when I try and clock in, and sent them to the admin guy in charge. I specifically stated IN RED that I click the "record time" AND it DOES NOT send me to the confirmation page. I specifically stated that I DO NOT click "log on"

I get an email back: "You will need to click record time stamp after typing in your user name and password"

Are you fuckin with me?

So I send him an email back, stating AGAIN that I AM clicking "record time."

He calls me.
"Are you clicking record time stamp?"

I can't make this shit up.

"Do you see the pictures I sent you? You see how "record time" is underlined? That's because I had my mouse over it to show that I am indeed clicking "record time""

Also, perhaps, THE 2 E-MAILS I SENT THAT CLEARLY SAID I AM CLICKING RECORD TIME.

Note to self:

List of things to buy:
TV for bedroom
Eliptical
Dresser for bedroom
Contacts

To Whom it May Concern

Open letter to people who work for a large company:
Please note there is a difference between "reply" and "reply all." What is that difference you may ask? Well, I guess I'm not surprised you don't know since you continue to press "reply all" when, based on your e-mail, it is clear you should have pressed "reply." You see, "reply" sends your response to the immediate person who sent you the e-mail. Example: I send you, and 3 other co-workers an e-mail. If your response is really just for me, you hit "reply" so your e-mail doesn't get sent to the 3 other co-workers unnecessarily. "Reply all" sends your e-mail to everyone the sender sent to. Example: I send you and 3 other co-workers an e-mail. Your response is meant for, and necessary for, all e-mail recipients. You press "reply all."

Perhaps you already knew the difference, but honestly feel like an entire company wants to know that you, indeed, are a notary and can help out Jeremy with his notary needs. Let me clarify something, we don't care. Also, quit wasting my time to check and then delete e-mails where you are actually having a conversation with one other person. Here is a hint to tell when you should press "reply" instead of "reply all" your e-mail concerns, question, or comment are truly meant for only 1 or 2 people. If you can tell me what my name is, I will allow you to include me in your useless e-mails.

Regards,
AO

Good morning

JD had to work this morning, but I didn't. We slept in a little and when I came downstairs to let the girls out and get breakfast, I found the murder scene:

RIP "The Bull"

It was one of those extra strong toys for rough dogs that has 3 layers of tubing or something before the stuffing. Let's be real, The Bull lasted about a month, which, considering "the baby" (a soft dog) lasted about 10 minutes, is a long time. Unfortunatley, The Bull cost $25 and is unlikely to be replaced anytime soon.

Scenes from a Kitchen

JD: Where the fuck is the measuring cup? I haven't seen it in a few days, and I can't find it anywhere.
Me (looks in the cupboard where it should be): I don't know. I don't think [our roommate who just moved out] would have taken it.
Me (looks in the next likely place): Here is it. Did you even look for it?
JD: No. It wasn't where it should be. Who would put it in the wrong place?

Several hours later
Me: .... Why did you put the taco shells in the refrigerator?
JD: I don't know.

End Scene

My experience at the salon

I got my hair cut on Saturday. This is the review I posted on Yelp, because I am too lazy to recant my story.

Negatives:
*When I called to set up an appointment I was told haircuts were $20. When I left the salon, I was told my haircut was $37. Apparently wash and blowdry are considered styling and are an extra $17. No flat iron or curling iron were used. No hairspray was used. The only product she put in my hair was a root booster which did nothing but make my hair sticky and lifeless. And if she had asked before putting it in, I would have preferred it not be used.

*I said I wanted a trim including bangs. I had to ask at the end for my bangs to be cut. Which, along with "salon"s charging for blow drying, is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. Once, I showed a woman a picture of the hairstyle I wanted (that included bangs) and she didn't cut my bangs, she didn't even ask if I wanted them.

*Before she cut, she took the time to ask me where I parted my hair and had me do it. Then, while blow drying, she brushed all my hair back so my part was lost and my hair ended up separating in the middle, which is where my bangs ended up being cut. My bangs look like crap.

*I did not request a time when scheduling, I asked what was available in the afternoon. I was put with another woman who was getting color. My hair was partially blow dried, partially wet while I waited for my stylist to highlight someone else's hair. And then, the girl getting color had her color in past the timer and waited for the stylist to finish my $17 blow dry. I've never been double booked before. I'm sure it happens. I'm sure people who get their hair colored have waited before. But never have I been left to wait for 5-10 minutes with wet hair while someone else is serviced.

*She used a natural bristle brush. It makes my hair frizzy.

Keeping you posted

While I was at work, JD sent me these messages:
JD: Louise just farted under my desk.
JD: Radar is licking the pinball machine. Just sitting, docile ears, licking away.

My job is much less entertaining.

I do not endorse this.

Best seller lists have fooled me in the past. Lovely Bones, Bluest Eye, the other book about black slaves in the south. It’s always a gamble.

I finished Water for Elephants. On a sale of 1-10 (10 being the best) I give the book a Three Minus. Three because the author obviously did a LOT of research to even be able to write the book, and took the care in include unbelievably true circus stories. Minus because it sucked. It just wasn’t written well. At all. The author is a former tech writer, and it showed.

At the end of the book, there is an interview with the author. She mentioned that she felt she had great structural skills from her tech writing days and thus did not make an outline. A novel that is first person written sequentially in dreams with moments of “present” awake time is, really, not impressive, lady. Read Waterland and tell me how that structure makes you feel. Had I been the editor for this novel, I would have told her to scrap the “dream” idea and have the story start with the old man at the circus, telling the Manager the story. Maybe occasionally flashing back to the present to deal with “old man problems.” It would have seemed more thrilling, being able to both give reactions of the old man telling parts of stories he may have never repeated before, and also a reaction to that information. Stating that something is a really big deal is just not exciting.

Also noted in the interview was how the author did such a great job handling old people. Which is a pretty small accomplishment considering 80% of the novel the “old man” was in his 20s. She added true circus stories, which was cute. It also seemed a little plager-y considering this was a work of fiction. Had she written a non-fiction book, it might have been better. It is also considered “historical” fiction because it was set in the 1920s circus life. Which makes the whole US in the 20s much less interesting because, through prohibition was going on, everyone on the train drank without a problem. All. The. Time. Once, the train was raided. People cried. And then they drank something else. OMG IT WAS HORRIBLE

In general, the book was unable to emphasis any sort of dramatic information. It read as if a junior high schooler had written it for a class assignment. This happened, then this happened, then THIS happened and it was a REALLY big deal, afterward this happened. The only point of drama that seemed fairly adequate was when the parents died. The rest of the novel, as a whole, seemed as if it was written by an observer, which would be fine, had it not been first person. When your narrator is automatically limited in perspective by being first person, it’s even more challenging to cripple them with the inability to describe their own details.

What really grinds my gears though, is that the author specifically thanks someone for helping her title the book "Water for Elephants" which, while I do agree is a good title, has little to nothing to do with the actual story. Old man says he worked in the circus carrying water for elephants. Narrator old man gets mad, calls old man a liar, pouts for another 50% of the story. Aside from saying that elephants require a lot of water, the idea that carrying water for elephants is worth getting up in arms about is never defined. Perhaps it is an insider circus thing. Also, no elephants in the book ever drank any water. I'm serious. Lemonade, yes. Water, no. The title is seriously downgraded considering no elephant ever drinks any water, and watering elephants isn't entirely mentioned in the circus part of the story. It would like if I named a novel "I love Nutella" and though I argue, once, that nutella is good,I never actually eat any.

I would be unlikely to read a book by her again.

TMI

I go to Planned Parenthood for my pap smear every year. One year, I went to a fancy gyno and she treated me like a baby seal. I told her I was having problems. She told me it was completely normal for my period to feak the fuck out and I shouldn't be concerned until I skipped two periods in a row.

Oh please.

If my period is more than an afternoon late, I'm going to be concerned.

So, I went to another doctor at PP. I told her what my problems were and she told me I needed to take calcium and eat more green leafy vegetables. That my mood and matching uterus problems had to do with my diet.

Oh please.

I switched birth controls and my mood went from depressed with suicidal thoughts to stable and even happy. Also, after she examined me, she asked more specific questions about my issues and said "That's not happening is it? Because I didn't check for that"

So, I went again this year. If you've never been, Planned Parenthood (NO offense to their organization, which I fully support, obvi.) is kind of like what Quick Cuts and Fantastic Sams are to the salon industry. It's all about production. Get in, get out, move on. Getting a pelvic exam is like meeting a guy at a frat party, messing around in the bathroom, and then going back to your dorm. Fast, a little painful, and afterword, you feel like you were used. The lady doctor I had left the room after taking her gloves off. Right glove. Left glove. Here's your paper work. Door. She talked the entire time, too. Never asked me if I was having any problems. Never asked me if I had any questions. Just Bing bam thank you ma'am.

I guess you get what you pay for. And since I have Plan First, I pay $4 for "handling" and nothing for my birth control.

UPDATE:

JD and I are fairly certain a guy at work has a crush on me. Of course, since this is me, he is a crazy. You know the episode of HIMYM when Ted dates that girl and everyone tells him she has crazy eyes? This guy has crazy eyes. One day after we moved to the new building, he introduced himself on the way out. It was strange, but I've dealt with strange so it wasn't a big deal. Not even worth mentioning.

The next day, he inter-office IMs me and proceeds to ask me personal questions, if he is bothering me, will I be his friend? If I took too long to respond to him (keep in mind, the IO IM shows when someone is in a call), he would comment on my "tude" or how I like to keep to myself at work. Eventually I told him I was too busy and needed to go back to work. He tried again later on in the afternoon. I told him I was working and wasn't able to talk.

This morning he IMed "Good Morning!" and I IMed back "Good morning" He then asked me to go to lunch with him. I told him no thank you. He responded with a smiley face sticking its tongue out.

5 Hours later he sent a message: "Boom! She turned me down for lunch! I've never been turned down before May day MAY DAY may day! call the boys and tell um I love um"
For serious. My favorite part is that it was 5 hours later.

A couple hours after that, he IMed me again asking if I have a sense of humor. Since I took too long to reply, he said "uhoh the silent treatment! dun dum" I was on the phone. Jesus H. I told him I was busy working. He asked to talk after work. On the way to our cars. I told him he seemed nice and was very persistent but I was not interested.

Another hour later, he sent me an e-mail emphasizing that he was interested in a PLATONIC conversation, but that he was 5'10, stocky, had a great smile, owned his car, lived in an apartment, and enjoyed lots of movies and music. And, finally, that my invitation to lunch is still open.

Of course, I'm keeping JD informed of all of this in case I don't come home from work one day, and he has to call the police. This was his comment to the e-mail:
"JD: I also own my own house, as well as car, and have developed an intimate sexual relationship with you. Kind Regards, - Your boyfriend"

Live Blogging the Latin Language

Scene: JD and I are watching "Angels and Demons" the movie has just said something in Latin.
JD: Ahhh Vacante. Of course.
Me: What does Vicante mean?
JD: Vacant. of course.
Me: Well, it sounds a lot like picante.... Picante means small.... Picante. Vicante.
Jd: Vacante, Shu. Vacant

Advise for sale

I just noticed in a spam comment someone posted: "Always read something that will make you look good just in case you die in the middle of it."
That is sound advise. Should be sandwiched between "always carry cash, just in case" and "wear clean underwear."

Book Review Thursday

I’m currently taking a break from David Sedaris (who I endorse, BTW) and am reading Water for Elephants. This book was written by a woman and is narrated, first person, by a man. I do not endorse this.

I have been irritated by novels written by one gender, and narrated in first person by another since I was a teen and read Wally Lamb’s She’s Come Undone. That book follows a grown man’s idea of the disappointments of a fat girl. I had many issues with this 1 being a girl 2 being fat and 3 being a fat girl. The book was terrible. The problem seemed to be that a man cannot accurately internalize and then transcribe the inner thoughts and feelings of a woman, or the order in which they are processed. The entire novel, I felt, reflected a man mocking the “difficulty” involved in being a fat girl.
Water for Elephants is different as it is a woman’s representation of the life of a man. So far, I’m not impressed. I took the recomendation from a girl I worked with for a while. I asked what kind of books she liked and what kind she didn't like to try and form an educated judgement on her taste. I purchased this book anyway. It won awards and was on great books lists. I think it's kind of sucky. Maybe the plot is really amazing later on and it develops wonderfully, but the writing I've read so far is a little boring. It's entertaining enough, and I'll keep plodding along, but I won't keep it in my "forever" book collection.

Work life

7/21
Dear Diary,
The other day I found out I was excluded from an email that contained details regarding a part of my job I had, unknowingly, been doing wrong.

Today, I recieved 5 e-mails regarding the Donuts Lorenzo brought in.
*Update: Donut emails totaled 8 by mid morning.

7/22
Dear Diary,
At work, we are required to make notes regarding everything we do on an order. Sometimes, people don’t note things fully. Case in point: I noticed no one had called on a past due report. So I called. The first phone number directed me to a 2nd number stating that the 1st number was having issues. I hung up and called the 2nd number. It rang a few times, and then beeped in a rhythm and then made a flat line sound and disconnected. I went back to the first number and took my chances leaving a voice mail. Just to make sure, I emailed the person as well. I received and automated email that the person didn’t receive emails from unknown senders, and that I was an unknown sender. So I went through this link and this form to explain that I am qualified to send this guy an email and it eventually goes through. The guy emails me back and I reply... only to be spam blocked again! Ugh

Live Blogging a Movie Experience

Scene: JD and I are at the drive-in. Inception had ended and we were watching Eclipse. It was the part where Kristen Stewart is trying to get into Edward's pants. Edward says something about how he wants to protect her and her virtue.
Me: How come you didn't try and protect MY virtue?
JD: Riiiiiiiight
(after 20 seconds, I realize "riiiiiiight" meant "what virtue?"
Me: Touche.

Status updates by day (Pt. 3)

July 19, 2010
Dear Diary,

One of m boyfriend’s finer qualities is his inclination to pay more money for things. 70% of the time I find this either wasteful or unnecessary. I am not that kind of person. I will buy something just because it costs less. 50% of the time this is a reasonable idea. However, half the time I end up with something crappy and if I had just paid 30 cents more, I would have something not as crappy. Enter Aveeno lotion. I love Aveeno lotion. I endorse it. It is very expensive and totally worth it. Unfortunately, the “scented” varieties cost less than the original kind which has no scent. I am a fool as this has screwed me twice now.*

Recently, I went to WalMart to buy some more Aveeno. And of course I am an idiot because the “Stress Relief” lotion cost 30 cents less than the original. 30 cents. I wouldn’t even clip a coupon if it was only 30 cents off. Not even if I was going to use it at Kroger where they double coupons less than 50 cents. It smells like a clean diaper. Which is a fabulous smell if you have a baby, I understand. It’s just not a fabulous smell for a work cubicle.

*Once I bought Aveeno on sale at Target. It was on sale because it had a “Menthol” scent. It. Was. Horrible. And I used every last drop because that shit costs $7 a bottle.

Status update by day (Pt. 2)

July 14, 2010
Dear Diary,

There is a slushie machine at work. It hasn’t been filled since I started a few days ago, but it was functioning today. And since I was having an odd day, I got one. It was peach Faygo (??) and some white Faygo. It tasted like college.
I have my first work complaint…. !!! The “team” is sectioned off into “regions” I am in a region with a very nice girl and a lady who has already “reprimanded” me more than once. This morning, she had obviously been talking about me to her neighbor and when I walked up the aisle, she turned to the other woman and said, “is this AO?” I said, “huh? Yeah?” and then she proceeded to tell me that I am to ask her or the other girl in our region questions and not other people (ie the women who sit around me) because each region is handled differently. The entire time, she was texting. After I said “ok, yeah” multiple times and she finished her speech, she said “oh! My name is S”.

Well fabulous.

Yesterday, I noticed that a lot of the orders I was looking at were ones she had not called on. Today, I noticed more of the same thing and in the 100+ orders I looked at, I only saw 2 where she actually called. There’s also another program that allows us to report problems with orders. However, no one will see our problem under a certain status. Today, I noticed that she tended to post issues under this useless status. So I spent part of my day e-mailing on some of her outstanding issues. I’m starting to feel like I’m picking up after her. This seems odd seeing as it’s my 4th day and she’s someone others have referred to as “been here a while.”

July 16, 2010
Dear Diary,

Message in order:
"The _____ spoke to the _____ and he did not want to schedule a time for the ______ to inspect the property. He said that he needed to make sure certain items were taken care of first before scheduling a time."

My thought:
"....does he have to move the bodies?"

Status update by day

July 12, 2010
Dear Diary,

The entire 2nd floor of this building smells like bacon. I work on the 3rd, and opening the door to the stairs is like walking into a diner and free bacon day.
I tried to wear my “work” shoes today. My toe nails are too long and continuously caught on the inside part of the shoe. Scrapping the shoe and pulling my nail. I changed back into my flip flops at lunch. My feet were not prepared for business casual dress.

I got my official desk today and it wasn’t fully cleaned out. There are empty soda and Red Bull cans in one of the cabinets. Left over headphones, and lanyard (score!) in another. The previous sitter’s job manual, and various left papers. Most disgustingly, though, was the headset for the phone had crusties in the ear piece and had some hairs stuck to it. The previous sitter worked in a different department causing my computer setting to be mildly off. I spent the morning getting new ear phone foam bits and getting the phone changed so I can use it with my extension. I still have to contact someone about getting the correct printer settings. Also, I would like to spray the area down with Lysol.

Questions I have been asked today that have dumbfounded me:
Where are you located?
What row are you in?
Could you tell me your computer name?
Tomorrow is Retro clothing day. Ok that’s not a question, but same idea applies.

Live Blogging my Boyfriend

(Scene: we are on the couch talking about what we may or may not have at our wedding when we eventualy get engaged)
JD: I want to shoot a basket. I want to run up on a ramp and shoot a basket and then say, "Shiet!"
Me: I've known you 2 years and I've never even seen you touch a basketball.
JD: Maybe I'll have you shoot the basketball and I'll just say "shiet!"
Me: I don't know who is more likely to get a basket, me in a dress or you.
JD: Are you commenting negatively on my basketball skills? You know, I played in 5th grade.
(at this point I was laughing so hard, I wasn't listening)
Me: Wait wait wait. Did you just say you stole the basketball from your own team and then scored a point for the opposing team?
JD: They didn't go in. I was wide open! I shot 4 times, none of them went in. I never played basketball again. In an act of irony, my mom set up a basketball net at the house only after I stopped going to practice.

Oh Nebraska. So easily forgotten.

Dear Universe,
I last spoke to you on Wednesday, June 30. I just wanted to compliment you on your speed. On Thursday, July 1, I received a call to come in for an interview. On Friday, July 2, I signed paperwork at my new job. On Tuesday, July 6, I went to my first day at my new job.

Bravo, Universe, bravo.

Had I know you were wearing your running shoes at the time of my request, I would have asked to win the lottery. But, not to complain or be unappreciative, I am very grateful for my sudden employment.

Keep in touch!
Love,
AO


I now work at a Mortgage Company.
My new job consists of checking to make sure appraisals have been done for the MC. This often requires me to check the state the appraisal office is in before calling since I am in the Eastern most time zone, everyone isn’t always awake and in the office at my 9am. Or, most places in my region have closed by 5pm. Having to do this has raised the awareness that I do not know my states based on initials alone. It has happened twice to me. Someone asked me what state the address was in. “Uhhh… MA?” I have no idea who MA is. Massachusetts? Maine? It was after 5pm and I had to call about an order in state NE. NE? New….. no. North….. no Neva... no. So I looked on the map behind me and I found it. Since the map behind me does not spell out the state name, and I seemed to have misplaced my 3rd grade geography lesson, I still have no clue whatsoever of this state. I have failed as an educated individual. It wasn't until I was driving home that Nebraska popped into my head. I blame Catholic school for not teaching up the song that helps you remember all the states and their capitols.

With my new job and it's seeming endlessness, I have decided to officially move in with my boyfriend. My dog and I already live in his house, but with about 10% of my actual stuff. While JD and I were discussing some minor logistics in the car, I made the statement that I meant moving in, "like with my bed and my shelves and all my stuff, stuff." At which point he made a distasteful just-ate-something-gross face. "Shelves? You know... moving is a good time to reevaluate your things and throw some stuff out."
Let me take you back. When JD moved, he didn't pack anything until the day before the move at which time, his mom and grandma started loading things into boxes and directing everyone else how it should be done. He had intended on evaluating his stuff while he packed, but with the matriarchs in control, most junk slipped through and ended up at the house. In the basement. In boxes that have yet to be gone through and evaluated. Also in the basement are enough empty boxes to build a Thanksgiving Day float. (Though, now that I think of it, those boxes will be useful in packing up all my stuff). Which have only slowly been evaluated on their resale and useful value.
I think this will be interesting.

Yesterday in the car, I was complaining about my knee and how it has been hurting while I run. Which lead me into my hip and how it gives out occasionally.
Me: "I'm aging too quickly. I'm like the reverse Benjamin Button!"
JD: "That's everyone."
Me: "... but not with the speed at which I am disintegrating!"

RIP Shoes

I do not endorse this:

This ate my good shoe. My cute, neutral toned, pointy toed sling backs. They looked good. They made my legs look good. They went with black and brown. They were easily worn with skirts. They were my interview shoes. I got them second hand from Plato's Closet for cheap and everytime I wore them, women gave me compliments. WOMEN gave ME compliments on something I was WEARING. Which almost never happens to me because I don't own anything nice. A moment of silence, please, for my shoe.

Thank you.

Dear Universe,
It's about time you threw a job my way. To show how ready I am for this said job, here are a list of things I will be purchasing with the money I make from my new job:
1. New running shoes. Mine are old and worn and hurting my feet. Plus it's only a matter of time before Radar (which I just now realized is spelled the same frontwards and back) chews what little life they have left.
2. Dinner out.
3. New neutral toned, pointy toed, slingbacks.
4. A Passport.
5. Candles.
6. Enough Starbucks to get the stars required to be a Gold Member. Unnecessary? Yes. Mildly shameful? Yes. Challenge accepted.
7. Produce from the local farmer's market.

So, Universe, as you can see I am prepared.

In waiting,
AO

When your kid gifts you with an ugly rock they found and then painted

Tagen has been following me around all afternoon. She lays underneath the coffee table while I'm on the couch. She lays next to the sink while I'm in the kitchen. She lays under JD's work desk while I pee. She won't leave me alone which is very odd for her. I'm pretty sure this means 1 (or more) of4 things.
1. Natural disaster. Animals always know first, right?
2. I'm going to die. Just like that death cat at the nursing home, Tagen is going to steal my soul when it leaves my body.
3. She is sick and doesn't want to die alone.
4. She knows she'll be vacationing at grandmas next week.
Hopefully this behavior ends tonight. She's freaking me out.


After 2 days of sitting in the fridge and judging me everytime I opened the door, I used the fondant. I debated between throwing it out, eating it straight from the plastic wrap, and leaving it in there until the next purge, but eventually balled up and made a freaking cake.

Cake: half a box of FunFetti

Frosting: left over Betty Crocker Chocolate Buttercream, nuked for 14 seconds to soften, only on top tier because I got nervous.

Decorations: Junior Mints and Sweedish Fish.

Food Network Challenge: Cakes has an amateur division... right?

Self-endorsement

I'm a cautious person. I do dry runs before interviews. I wear a safety badge, often, and proud. However, sometimes an activity comes up that I talk myself into. No knowledge. No preparation. It's usually a challenge, and therefore I pick the easy, idiot proof, internet version. This has, on occasion, worked out well for me. More often than not, though, it is usually a big mistake.

Enter Marshmallow Fondant.

I do not endorse this:

As a child, I remember always wanting to make rice krispie treats. My mom would tell me that she would buy the stuff, but I would have to clean the dishes. I think I made it twice. The first time, I noticed that marshmallows are pretty much satan. The second time happened because I had forgotten that I promised myself I would never make anything that required me to wash a bowl that had once contained melted marshmallows. I won't even eat a rice krispie treat anymore.

I wanted to make fondant and I found an "easy idiot proof" recipe which I tried to make. Since I have no idea what findant is supposed to look like, and I didn't follow the directions, 2/3rds of the way through, I looked up a video for it up on the internet. I had done everything wrong. Never. Again.

I do endorse this:
Smells great. Smells all over the room. Love.

I do not endorse this:

I like chipotle. I like a medium form of heat. I love mayo. I'm glad I got a small sample for free instead of buying a bottle of it. I have chipotle in the fridge; this is not chipotle. It is taco seasoning in reduced fat mayo. Do not bother.

All Radar, all the time.

OH my god a 40 year old woman, with 2 kids, DIDN'T KNOW SHE WAS PREGNANT. No one is safe!

nom nom nom

She's being a funny girl today. Funny -slash- crazy. It started raining so I had to move my fan.

Thanks for putting the fan on the floor for me, Aunt Shapes.

A few days ago, for no reason, Radar took a seat on the tent bag. Since then, I have been trying to get a picture of it because it's just so damn funny.

This is such a great chair

Butterfly in China and stuff

Oh my. I probably shouldn't leave that blog up.

I miss Britney and Justin. Don't you? She had so much going for her. It's one of those things where you wonder how your life would be different if you had stayed together. If Justin and Britney had made it, would we know Dick in a Box? Would K-Fed have been on VH1's Celebrity Fit Camp? Would anyone remember Moesha wsa a TV show had Char Jackson not been involved with Britney? Would anyone have been able to bring Sexy Back?

I realize Britney and Justin broke up 8 years ago and that it is no longer relevant. But you would be thinking about it, too, if you had just watched the Biography on Britney Spears.

So, anyway, here are some pictures of the kids so you don't feel like you've wasted the last 15 minutes.

Happy girl!

I am a fabulous watch dog.

Not a blank page

I have no interest in walking the dogs today. I wish it would rain so I wouldn't feel so guilty.

It is unfortunate that blogger won't let me paste, beacuse I just wrote the best "hire me, I have no experience" cover letters ever.

Oh my gosh I don't actually have anything to say. I would have deleted all of this, but while trying to paste, I accidentally posted and don't feel like trying to delete it.

I've been thinking...

School is out or has been having half days and I notice a lot more tweeners on my dog walks. The other day, I came upon 4 boys most likely under the age of 16. They all had black socks on. One boy was wearing tiny girl black socks with man sandles. One boy was wearing only black socks. The other 2 were wearing crew cut black socks with their tennis shoes. Is this a teenage boy thing? When my brother was in high school, the cool thing was to wear several shirts at once. Maybe this is just was teenage boys do. Or maybe this is what teenage boys' moms do because black socks hide dirt better.

On Facebook, I came across this comment someone posted to my friend's status:
It was my parents 29th anniversary this year, too!!! Isn't it great to have parents that are still happily together? =)
And since I cannot respond to this comment without sounding like a total bitch, this is what I would like to say:
OMG! It was my parents 29th anniversary (5 years ago), too!!! Isn't it great to know in just a few years they could get a divorce like mine did? =)

I mean... that's totally appropriate, right?

Living room

JD and I are going camping. Neither one of us had any camping things, so JD bought a tent online. It was uber windy today, and he decided to set it up in the living room. It was actually really easy; it's some sort of "60 second setup" where it's all already attached you just click everything in place like an umbrella.

Tagen does not like loud noises, or really anything new that doesn't involve a snack. She hid under my skirt.

Mom, protect me!

Here is the tent fully set up:

Does this make us red necks?

Tagen had some doggy beer to relax once the tent was taken down

Where was Radar? Outside or in her cage because she is a jumper and a shark mouth and wasn't allowed near the new tent. Did I ever tell the story about how I don't like dogs looking at me while I'm eating? I don't like anyone looking at me while I'm eating, but I cannot stand it when a dog stares at your plate or gets their nose right up in your face to smell your food. It disgusts me. I trained Tagen to get in a spot, and she does pretty well, although you do have to remind her. Radar, however, is still new and doesn't get it. She loves to sit behind the couch so I dubbed that her spot. While I'm eating on the couch, she must go to her spot, and when she gets there (and stays there), she gets a snack. She is a very smart dog, and quickly learned (at least with me) to go behind the couch while I'm eating. However, instead of laying down like a good girl like she used to do, she now waits for you to drop food back there.

Like this:

Guys? Guys, are you gonna eat all those chips?

As frustrating as she tends to be, she is quite a funny girl.

LOVE ME

"The reason awful people so often get their way is because they are willing to do things decent people wouldn't dream of"

I've always wanted to be one of those people who can win an argument. Or an angry contest. Instead, any time I have encountered unpleasant people, I've dubbed them crazy and pretended they didn't exist.

Unpleasant people I've been unable to avoid, I've stewed in civility, dreaming of a moment where I would say the cutting retort that would offend them on a personal level so strong, they would have to give me the upper hand and all unpleasantness would be gone. Unfortunately, I usually just get mad and go away with my tail between my legs.

Just once I would like to come up with a proper response that is both classy and shuts down the other person a-la Emily Post. Whenever I have been able to shut someone up, they never walk away introspectively thinking that they are terrible people. No, whenever I stick up for myself, it gets me in more trouble. Like the bully who has been exposed to the whole class, he always comes back angrier and crazier.

I also am not able to be classy on my toes. When things happen that I think are utterly inappropriate in the situation, I cannot diffuse the situation. I am an observer. All I can do is take notes and be as dramatic in my retelling as possible.

Lisa Kogan says she collects "slights, insults, and snarky remarks" the more I think about it, the more I want to write a book of them. Every one loves someone elses car crash. Usually I can recall an event in detail for about 3 days. After that, I can only remember the tipping point.

Ok. It doesn't take much to make me cry. If someone on TV is crying, that can make me cry. Thinking about crying can make me cry. This interview on Sunday Morning where Magic Johnson retired from basketball because of HIV and Larry Bird called him first is making me tear up. Sometimes the dog looks so cute and I love her so much my little ducts start welling. But I can hold it back and blow things off for (a documented) 1.5 days. It's easy for people to get to me because I operate on a system of balance and decency. When someone does something shitty I just want to ask, "who raised you?!" Just once I would like to have a come back. Just once I would like to say "Well, I'm rich and fabulous. You're sad. I pity you." AND THEN HAVE IT CRUSH THEIR WORLD! Instead, I'll just have to keep walking and hope this high road goes somewhere.

Dog stories

Fancy breakfast

Several week ago, JD bought cheese filled smokey links. The fat girl inside me squealed with glee.

Radar ran away. But only for like, the time it took me to run to the snack cabinet, grab her bone, walk across the street barefoot, and wait for her to show up to get snacks.

It started with a bad idea and ruckus ensued. Radar went to the back yard to chew her stick. Tagen had to pee. I took my chances and got a leash. BAD IDEA. Radar saw the leash, thought Tagen was going for a walk, started flipping out. Tagen and I went out the front door. The noise of Radar stirred JD upstairs to come down and let her in right around the time I realized Tagen had no intention of peeing on the front lawn, and walked inside myself to bring Radar in. Radar made a run for us at the door, Tagen backed up into the door, proping it open. Radar pushed Tagen over, and ran.

oy.

Of course, right now Tagen is in her area fast alseep curled into a ball with her head squished up against the speaker. Radar, is holding the pantry door hostage because it's as close as she can get to her new high performance food.

Must wait for nummies

No, MOM, I don't want any TANG!

Tempurpediac

I had stuff to say... right?

Our weather today is, and I quote, "mostly sunny, fabulous" OK maybe not fabulous. But I forgot the word they did use because I was yelling at Radar to get out of my face.

Radar hasn't been eating. Eventually my safety badgering (but really just JD reading the website I sent him backing up my information) convinced JD to buy different dog food that she would eat. Well, she eats it and loves it and is now full of energy.
"I should go back to starving you" JD said while Radar was vertically jumping up to lick his face.

Remember when I was in college and I used to grocery shop alone and watch what everyone else was buying? Well, a woman at the store yesterday had the following in her cart:
1 can of men's Barbasol
2 full sized bottles of Scope
3 packages of women's disposable razors
4 cases of canned cat food

How curious!

Observation

To: Miley Cyrus
From: AO
Subject: Can't be tamed?

Dear Miley,
You're not wild. You're 17. Put some pants on.
Love,
AO

can only be filled with strawberries and a bag of frosting

This morning, I weighted myself and I was 2 pounds less than I was last week. This is, of course, after 5 full days of walking or running each dog (usually taking about 1.5-2 hours total) in the morning and doing P90X at night. Plus, it's been hot; I've been sweating. I managed 1 week! My only other goal is to do it another full week.

Zumba. I did Zumba once, in college with my roommate, and was greatly disappointed. It was a packed room and I think we were just going off a DVD. I didn't sweat at all and never got out of breath. But we each got water bottles which we drank booze out of that evening!

I was going to post a photo of Adriana Lima and her husband because I just saw them with their new baby and everyone is gorgeous. However, her husband (a basketball [???] player) looks like a total idiot in every photo. She's making sex eyes at the camera, his eyes look like he was 11 into a 12 pack. She's pouting seductively or smiling, and he has a mustache.

Epic Fail.

The last several nights, I've had failure dreams. My mission is to complete a project, assignment, test, try-out. I always fail. Either I can't read the directions, everyone else is just faster than me, or I'm not even given the chance to compete. My dreams are starting to make me feel bad about myself.

I just watched Christina A's new video. It made me uncomfortable. Not the bondage parts, the parts with the auto tune, and the parts where I wasn't sure if I was watched Lady Gaga or Britney Spears. Xtina... you have a kid now. The vagina portion of your leather leotard is bedazzled. Look around. You're better than this!

Train... the band. Remember Train? They were popular around 2000-2001. They're still pushin it out. Their bassist looks just like Howie Mandel. Anyway, can you tell I'm watching JumpStart on VH1? Justin Bieber is on Today this morning, and it's a bit too early for screaming girls. Actually, I don't believe any amount of coffee suffices as "enough" to listen to screaming girls.

OH MY GOD VH1 just listed "Hanson" under coming releases! I LOVED Hanson when I was 12. I wanted to marry the drummer. Upon further Googling, he didn't end up as cute as I had hoped. Weren't they part of one of those religious groups who don't believe in birth control, home school their kids, and don't kiss until the wedding day?

"AO, welcome to Jeopardy! It says here, the other day you encountered a HUGE turtle on the path while walking your boyfriend's dog. Is that true?" "Thank you, Alex, and yes; Radar and I did run into a turtle on the path! And we almost ran over a snake on the bridge!" ... "Ok well... good luck today!"

Just like Pam Houston and Lorrie Moore, right?

A.
-------------------
You know how sometimes you haven't talked to someone in a while and you start to wonder why? Then they Facebook message you to get together, and it's been so long you think it's a great idea. So you say yes and talk yourself into being excited. You're going to the movies, how bad could it be? Of course, 3 days after you ask them an important question like... oh... 'where are we meeting?' they haven't responded. So the night before, when you still haven't heard from them, you call. They don't answer and you leave a voicemail. A few minutes later, they text you (making you suspicious of screening) and they mention how they've been so busy, they haven't thought about it. So you end up going online and searching for a theater in the location they want. Giving them the information and having them be vague about a place and uncertain of a time. Not once will they mention what time is best for them. They let you pick, to be polite, you suppose. So you pick a location that is better for you and times that you prefer. Eventually, plans are made and the day moves on. Until the afternoon, when they text you to let you know that they're having a drama filled day and aren't sure about the movie, but they'll keep you posted.
It's time to leave and you haven't heard anything from them, so you assume all is well and they are going. 30 minutes before the movie is supposed to start, you get a text, which you don't read because you are driving to the theater. When you get to the theater, 20 minutes early, because you are a person who gets to movies early, you read the text. They have cancelled. Sorry!
Ahh yes. Now you remember why you don't talk to them more... they're a yucky person. They ask you to go out with them, they make you plan the date, and then they cancel short notice so you can't really do anything about it. You try to keep events like this in mind, you try to remind yourself that you should have expected this. It is not the first time. Unfortunatly, you tend to believe others act the way you would. You like to think that if someone couldn't make a certain time, they would mention it in the planning process instead of 30 minutes before you're supposed to meet them, because that's what a good friend would do. That is what you would do. That is not what they do.

May or may not

It's been a while. I'm back to being unemployed and life isn't as entertaining when it's wake up, drink coffee, eat breakfast, walk dog, walk other dog, waste some time, eat lunch, take a shower, watch HIMYM, waste time, kiss boyfriend, make/eat dinner, waste time, work out, shower, watch tv go to bed.

I have several bug bites on my foot and it keeps me awake at night.

The other day, I met the neighbors, and they started the idea of "what would your Jeopardy background information be?" I can't think of a good one. "And now, AO, what's interesting about you is that you've been unemployed for quite some time now. You trained your dog? Good for you!"

Ugh, I feel super fat. So, here are some pictures of the kids.

If my tummy could be making a face right now, it would be frowning

I'm having taco remorse, but throughout the day I've thought of topics that I have an opinion on.

1st:
I walked into the phone store today to get my new phone and the guy greeted me as sweetie. Very presumptuous. I didn't respond. My usual reaction when strangers say or do things to me that I don't feel are acceptable. He changed his course.

2nd:
So, Michigan won Miss USA. Fabulous. Then the pictures come out of her in a pole dancing contest for a local radio station. She was fully dressed. Why was this important? Why are people so surprised when beautiful woman turn out to be in pole dancing contests? Photographed making out with other chicks? Taking nude or otherwise racy portraits? They're gorgeous! If I looked like that I would ONLY be photographed topless. No one is perfect. Miss USA isn't a prude. Miss MI probably wasn't a virgin, either. Let's keep it real people.

3rd:
I watched a bit of True Life today where 2 engaged couples decided not to have sex in their relationship before marriage. I'm all for others doing as they please sexually and religiously. What makes my brow furrow is when they say things like "we decided not to kiss to assure that we wouldn't be tempted to do other things." If you don't want to have sex, you don't have sex. Saying kissing leads to sex is like saying getting in my car leads to Australia. My car can drive me to an airport which can then fly me to some countries, eventually stopping in the land down under, but there are many places to stop, many places to change my mind. Just because I got in my car, doesn't mean I have to go to Australia. Based on their theory, holding hands leads to marriage. Boy meets girl, boy and girl holds hand but never kiss, boy marries girl. I've seen it. Twice on TV alone.

Perhaps this post would have been better had I written it earlier when there wasn't a 7-layer burrito with gross rice sitting in my tummy bragging about its calories to my ab muscles.

Fabulous Day

I believe I've gotten my 4th pair of free underpants from VS today. It might be the 5th, but I'm not sure.

I had a wonderful day today. It started with sinus headaches and skipping work. I walked one of the dogs. I ate an egg sandwich. JD came home feeling ill. After he took a nap and I made me lunch, we went to the mall. Got free underpants, Frapuccinos, a scrub brush, free popcorn covered in chocolate, a trailer, a steamer, some on sale cereal, and lots of cheap produce. I made an appointment with a psychic for this Friday. I talked to my mom on the phone.

I figured I would mention when my life is neither humorous/embarrassing nor sucky.

Lonely observations

I would like to start this with a disclaimer.
I have nothing against the Duggars. I have been watching their show and their children for many years now, and they keep bringing me back for more. I think their children are beautiful, attractive, kind, decent adults, teenagers, younger people, human beings. Though I don't support their religious, spiritual, or wooing preferences, they drink Starbucks, focus on education, love a good deal, and work hard. I can get behind those things. I am not teasing, mocking, or joshing about preemies. It must be heartbreaking. It must be terrible. It must be so unbearable and retching. My mom's prayers go out to them.

Ok?

Did you see the Josie comes home episode?




She looks like an alien! Maybe preemies look like that because of their short development in the womb. But my guess is Mrs. Duggars Fallopian tubes have run out of quality eggs.



... Karma cap

Things my boyfriend is mad about/hates

1. Gorton's fish sticks
2. The cheap gas station that was "shooting gas all over the place"
3. His dog
4. His dog's cage
5. The bitch with the stupid dog
6. Work
7. His manager at work
8. His co-workers at work
9. The internet router configuration
10. The fact that I am not working tomorrow because I failed my test and therefore he has to feel bad about going up north and leaving me with the dogs alone instead of feeling bad that he left me with a 10 hour work day and 2 dogs to care for. Alone. Again.

I'll provide you with my list tomorrow when I'm angry that my boyfriend left me, ditched our plans, I have to deal with 2 dogs, and clean the house. Alone. Again.

I'll miss Greg and his tater tots

I may or my have found a grey hair. I may or may not be pretending it is a blonde hair and that the gods have gifted me with natural highlights that aren't fire engine red.

I definitely did walk all the way from the bathroom to my station at work with toilet paper stuck to my shoe. Karma repaying me for seeing someone else do it, and not telling them.

At work, all I do is sit in a chair for approx. 6 or 7 hours. I think it gives me travel vagina. I always feel so gross when I get home. Or maybe it's the idea of only using a public bathroom for those hours that makes my vag nervous. My first project is over and I've been moved to a second project. For now. I still have to pass the tests to qualify. There are 3 total and I didn't pass the first one--but I may not have failed. I find out tomorrow if I'm employed for another 7 days or if I'm back to dog sitting and cooking.

I do not endorse these:

I had a coupon, and I have another I will not be using. As a baker, I should know that just adding water and a packet of caramel sauce does not a molten caramel cake make. Although, I thought I was eating a brownie, and now I see that is it cake. Part user error, part sucky cake-in-a-bowl

I do not endorse this:

I had high expectations for this book. I heard about it a lot. I read a small pleasant review of it in a book I was reading. Had I seen it up close in a store, and not just hastily purchased it off Amazon while I was alone one night and feeling spendy, I would not have paid for it. I would have taken 10 minutes and read it in the store. It is ok. If you were born in the 1930's and enjoy poorly drawn stick figures depicting commonly worn outfits and the awkwardly personal details associated with them, then you'll probably enjoy this book. If you were expecting a sassy narration that focused on decades later than the 1970's and had juicy details about love and/or loss, you will be sorely disappointed.

I do endorse this:

I bought it on a whim because Amazon said it was commonly purchased with another book I bought, Someone Will Be With You Shortly by Lisa Kogan. I have been a big fan of hers from O Magazine, but the book is mostly her articles from the magazine. I'm Sorry You Feel That Way is a nice memoir about a woman and her men. She provides wonderful characterization. Or, at least, the kind that I like. The kind that is mostly someone's actions rather than their words or their appearance, although she includes both for support. I'm not done with it, but I have greatly enjoyed the bits I have read.

Imaginary conversations I have with myself

... or things I didn't have the balls to say at the time that sound kiss ass now.

(at work)
After a conversation in which Girl R says that she's thinking about quitting her job to commit herself to looking for something better, Girl Who Sits Next to Me at Work tells her she should because she'll probably find a job within a month, and me and Girl C shake our heads no and tell our unemployment stories. I should mention that GWSNTMAW may only be 22 and is a recent college graduate who was accepted into a PhD program with a fellowship she starts in August. She has also been working part time at the same deli since she was 18.
And SCENE
GWSNTMAW: What did you plan on doing with your degree?
Me: Fuck off. I'm sure you "plan" on getting tenure at your college of choice teaching 400 level British Literature after you finish school. What happens when no one will hire you and you have to teach English 101 at the local community college? What are you going to say when people ask you "Well, what did you plan on doing with your degree?" I planned on getting a full time job that paid a living wage and then saving enough and paying off enough of my student loans to feel financially secure in going back to school for a Masters in something that paid more than English. Look around, sweet pea, everyone here has an education, and none of us can find decent jobs. You're young, and smart, and you got lucky. Don't be such an asshole. And turn off your fucking cell phone; Pre-Doctorates don't sext their boyfriends from work.
END

The lady is a vamp

Tonight, JD took me to a restaurant so fancy, they wouldn't give us a table, and we had to sit at the bar. It's prom night, and gaggles of teenage girls were running in and out of the bathroom.
Me: Girls bathrooms have couches.
JD: If there was a couch in the men's bathroom, it would be peed on.

So, I gave in and saw Twlight 1. It was free. I have this thing where people being embarrassed, or hurt, or feeling awkward makes me feel bad. I have to close my eyes. I almost cried in the first 45 minutes of the movie because those kids were making me so uncomfortable. I get it, though. As dumb as I think vampires are, I get it. I may or may not have enjoyed the movie. I enjoyed the protector aspect. The fantasy. If this had been popular my sophomore year in college, I may have ended up a Twi-tard. Luckily, I was too busy eating canisters of Lay's Stax-Mesquite BBQ potato chips and One Sweet Whirled ice cream alone in my dorm room watching Mad About You reruns. I wouldn't have had time for Stephanie Meyers.

We rented Twilight 2 tonight (for free!) and the Native American dude turns into a werewolf. (LBR, people, if you didn't know the tan kid is a wolf, you're unlikely to care that I spoiled it.) Now, I feel like I have enough knowledge to pick a side. Team Edward or Team Jakob? I pick Alice. Edward is an asshole coward. Jakob is controlling and potentially violent. Alice, on the otherhand, is caring, polite, decent, and psychic. I'll see the 3rd movie. If I'm ever bedridden, I'll read the books. I'm sure the books are better than the movies. There were too many parts of the movies that seemed to be designed for people who know intricate details of the books.

I was so proud of myself for knowing that was Dakota Fanning.

On the radio, a woman emailed asking should she break up with some guy because he owns and has read all the Twilight books. It got me thinking, book snob that I am, is there a book or author that I could see at a man's house that would turn me off? The answer is Anne Rice. Now, there are lots of books and authors that I wouldn't admit to having owned or read, but none makes me as edgy as Anne Rice. I haven't read Twilight, so I can't gage how odd it would be for a straight man to enjoy it. I did try to read Anne Rice in junior high. I didn't make it very far. Anne Rice is worse than Sci-Fi. I could deal with the Lord of the Rings series. At least he reads, you know?. Comic books... ehhh I saw V for Vendetta and Sin City. It's not my thing, but it's a guy thing. But if he reads Anne Rice, he probably has a real sword or specially made fangs, and I'm sorry, but I am too old to date a man who owns a real sword (unless he is in some sort of Scottish Freemasons club) or specially made false teeth (no buts).

But, if we're picking werewolf or vampire, I pick vampire. They don't maul you!

Letters to the Editors

Dear Dole,
"Classic Romaine" is not a wine. Noting that it pairs well with oregano and feta cheese is unnecessary. It is a bag of lettuce. It pairs well with diets and 900 calories worth of taco stuffing. You are neither fooling nor impressing me.
Regards,
AO

Dear iTunes,
I know I had my identity stolen and I forgot and tried to buy something from you with a canceled credit card, I admit; it was a minor lapse of judgement. I am deeply sorry. I appreciate the precautions you've established to assure that it is me trying to purchase that song I heard on "Acoustic Cafe" and not a Jewish single, however, I doubt my next identity thiever will want to hack into my We Rule account to harvest my cauliflower and deliver those magic broomsticks. I've been understanding through the process, but I feel it is time to stop making me enter my iTunes password every time I want to play.
Your loyal customer,
AO

Dear Girl Who Sits Next to Me at Work,
Bragging about how you frequently ignore the "no cell phone" policy at work stoped being awesome 7 birthdays ago. I hope you get caught and they kick you out for the last 3 days of the project.
(Karma Cap),
Girl Who Sits Next to You

Dear Grapes,
I think you're making my poops weird. I might not eating you for a while. No offence.
Much love,
AO

Read my list of things

Oh my god people read this and enjoy it. I'm not one to embed things and, honestly, it's after 10pm, I'm waking up at 6am, and I'm due to fall to the Communists around 5am, PLUS I'm on the tiny lap top. So fairs to say this person: http://respectmygangsta.blogspot.com/ is polite. I found her through My Internet Friend, Una's blog because I, too, am unemployed and enjoy dinosaurs. She gave me an award. It comes with a picture of cupcakes. I am unable to add it at the moment. I'll describe it to you; there's a box and inside the box are cupcakes with the best sprinkles and then at the bottom is another box and in that box is a boat. (Maybe the cupcakes are fishermen?) And it says I'm supposed to write 10 things that make me happy. I have to pee, so I'm going to be quick.
A). Louise. Like, 90% of the time.
B). JD. Like, 90% of the time.
C). Peeing after really REALLY having to pee.
D). Winning at life, in an argument, in a test of knowledge, in a competition, the Lotto, etc.
E). When you're thinking something must only be happening to you, and then a stranger looks at you and says exactly what you're thinking.
F). Coupons.
G). Time and a half.
H). Water.
I). Remembering something you've been trying to think of for days/someone answering a question you've been asking yourself. I couldn't think of the movie "Remember the Titans" for about 3 days and I finally asked JD, "You know that movie everyone saw in high school about the football team and Hayden Panatier(for reals that's not how she spells it) is the little girl of the white coach who was in Armageddon and he had to share with that famous black actor who isn't Morgan Freeman and that kid hurt his leg right before championships and it's not the movie with Dawson?" He knew what I was talking about. I fucking love that.
J). Finding changes (or more!) on the ground.

I wish I got to share a list of things that make me very unhappy. I suppose that's most of my blog anyway.

Now the story I was going to share anyway:
I was doing my super confidential job today and one of the kids drew hearts at the bottom of their ? and their ! and it reminded me of when I was in the 2nd grade and I did that one day because I saw one of my friends do it. Except I think I did it on a writing test and I dotted EVERY SINGLE i with a heart. My teacher made fun of me in front of the class, told me it was wrong, and that a writing test isn't a Valentine's card. I was scarred for life. Who yells at a 6 year old for dotting her i's with hearts?

One day when I don't have to pee and sleep, I'll tell you about why I used tissues in school.

Mexican's make the best robots

I've been working hard for the money. I would explain, but it's highly confidential.

In other news, I'm grading tests. To even apply for the job, one has to have a college degree. I has a college degree. This is the first time in my life I am using my English degree in a work environment and being paid adequately for it (adequate INDEED).

Why am not I counting the job I had where I produced the company newsletter? Well, 1. I was being paid $8 an hour for that job. 2. I never really used anything educational.

Also, I have been playing We Rule which is just Farmville for the iPhone. If you haven't heard of Farmville, then you probably don't have a Facebook. It's highly addictive.

In conclusion, my brain is dead because my highly confidential job is temporary, so I'm working every day for 4 weeks except 1 Saturday. Some people don't work on the weekends. TIME AND A HALF, PEOPLE! $22.50 AN HOUR I don't get it. What are you doing that you can't work a few hours on Saturday or Sunday? You can earn $720 in 4 days (before taxes) Your dad will have other birthdays! I, unfortunately, will not be working next Saturday. But I worked all this weekend, and will next Sunday and any other day they will let me.

During the training week, a woman in the hallway said this: (paraphrased) I tell the kids they need to stay in school... but what's the point? Look around every one of us has an education and we're all unemployed.

We're getting fat

If you haven't noticed, I haven't been P90Xing. I've been dog walking. And vacuuming.

JD decided he wanted to buy a scale because he's been talking about it for months and last week work brought in food everyday so he ate out all week. We went to Meijer to pick up a scale after eating a BDubs (they have celery, you know). All of the scales were askew and there were less in boxes then there were used. I stepped on one and it said I weighed 141 which made my heart hurt. JD stepped on the same one and said, "165 or 168" and it showed him 173. FAIL. "I don't want to buy the mean one." I stepped on another minus my purse, and it said I weighed 133. "Let's get this one!"

He purchased a mid-grade one and we took it home to weigh ourselves properly. Alone. In the bathroom. Naked. JD's starting weight was 170 (which according to a BMI calculator, says he's overweight. MEN. Pfft being overweight and skinny.) I weighed in unshocking, yet disappointing. I'm going to try again tomorrow and hope for something lower.

Stupid mean scale.

89x reminded me of this

Ican'tbelieveInevertoldyouthisstorybefore.

In college, I met this guy right before the end of the year. That summer I lived in town (in the trailer). We kept in touch an hung out a few times but we never even kissed or held hands or anything datey. He was going on interviews before school started and I offered him to stay in the trailer. He came over and we were watching tv on 2 different couches and he got a phone call. During this phone call he said, "HaHa, no. She's the Big V."

I wish this story continued with me kicking him out right then, um, but I didn't. And it was a horrible and awkward night. IN WHICH HE SNORED. Ok he was real fat. All belly fat, too. And he snored like you wouldn't believe. My roommate worked in a bar so she came home at like 3am. She said she heard it outside. I, of course, ran to her room and told her the whole story. Obviously, I wasn't sleeping because I had been laying next to a truck churning concrete.

Oh, BTW, he tried to get to 3rd base while he thought I was sleeping.
I was in a zen like state to block out the snoring.

I've always had a hard time telling someone to leave. I just shut down and hope they get the message. I'm much better at being the leaver.

Dreams and parentheses

It's official. I'm unemployed in my dreams.

Of course, in those unemployed dreams, I'm driving down the road alone (in the car and on the road) and a promotional van drives by and shoots money out the snout. So, I stop my car, take the keys with me (but leave the door open) and start collecting all the money. While I'm collecting money (which happen to be small bills and all of an older print), I come across a reporter who is documenting the experience. He doesn't want any of the money (I asked) and we find a dead deer at the end of the money trail. He pokes it, and it moves. I pick money off of it. The deer gets up, but it's 2 back feet snap off (money is attached to them.) I take the money and the deer runs off. With my hands filled with money, I worry about my open car door.

After I wake up, worry about my We Rule kingdom, and fall back asleep, I have a dream that I work for a salon that is seated in the office of 2 jobs ago. My phone is on silent and ringing. When I answer it, I don't know the name of the company. There's a bag of catered food on my desk that I walk back to the fridge. When I see my "boss" in the bosses office, she asks if I've seen her drink. I saw no and tell her I'll keep an eye out for it.

Not Martha

I made these today. I made Sweet Chili Lime sauce today. I made salmon, rice, and asparagus for dinner today.

I am le tired.

List of Things to Get (in order)

1. Job
2. $1 off a Grande Soy Butter Bear from Biggby for first day of new job.
3. Upgraded phone
4. That white shirt from H&M I loved but didn't buy when I had the chance (and the money)
5. Quinoa
6. Dinner at Joe's Crab Shack
7. Silver leaf necklace

Combinations

I bought a bike yesterday. I told JD I was interested in buying a bike a while ago and so every time we've gone to Walmart since, he's pushed the bike search. Last night, I reluctantly went with JD to the bike section. There was 1 adult bike on the floor, I didn't have to adjust the seat, it wasn't hideous, and it was less than $100. SOLD!

When I was in college, I had a bike. One night, drunk kids stole it. It was one of those bottom of the barrel moments in life as I did not have a car and suddenly had ZERO transportation. I cried. I drank. A month later, I got a car.
I guess it's not that great of a story.

On the radio they were talking about relationships and a woman called in to say that when she met her husband, he smoked. She didn't like smoking, so he quit for her. He even threw out his cigarettes. "I'm not a smoker, but no one throws away half a brownie."

This woman had 3 sets of twins. That's some sperm! I would have stopped after the 2nd set. I could have been convinced to have a 2nd pregnancy for 1 child after the first set of twins.. but after 4 babies? I'm good.

HOLY SHIT that husband is really fat! Like, Biggest Loser fat. How did they have so much sex?

OMG! I got my free birth control again!! Of course, I don't need any BC after I bought up my prescription 2 months ago. Still. Free vag appointments? Fire up. Especially since I don't have medical insurance.

Keeping up with the Old People

JD's Grandpa: What is his Face Station?
JD's Cousins: ....FaceBOOK?
JD's G: FaceBOOK?? What is it?!
This is where JD's Cousins try and describe Facebook to an 80some year old man who spent 2 hours on YouTube thinking all the videos where his grandson and whose wife calls JD's blog his blob.
JD's G: WHAT THE HELL IS A TWITTER?

Me: I think you're hoarding these oranges.
JD: I'm gonna cut them open tomorrow.
Me: You bought these back when I still had a job.
JD: I never said they were new.

TV is ruining your children

I had Cartoon Network on and they ran an ad for "Spring Break O 10"

Really?

Maybe you're wondering why I was watching Cartoon Network since I pretty much swore it off in 2005. Maybe the answer is because the adoptive mom was on the Teen Mom reunion with Dr. Drew and she makes me cry. Plus, nothing else is on!

So here are some inside jokes between me and the BF:
JD: I'm gonna have to turn the air conditioning on so we can close the windows and judge the neighbors without them hearing.

Me: You remember that movie Operation Dumbo?
JD: Yes! Shu, you've asked me this 50 times. It's Operation Dumbo Drop.
Me: Ohhh Yeaaaah. I never remember the name.
JD: And No. I haven't seen it yet.
Me: .. Yet? You haven't seen it yet? Like it's on your list. Right after 2012 and Public Enemies: Operation Dumbo Drop!

Let's got for a stroll in our bikinis

JD wants me to blog. Everyday. When I don't because I was busy vacuuming every carpeted area in his 3 bedroom house, cleaning every toilet is his 2.5 bathroom house, walking each dog for an adequate amount of time so they stop being so batshit, or accidentally watching 2 hours of Cold Case because I forgot to turn the TV off when the first episode ended THEN he tries to tell me what to blog about.

JD: write about this new flashlight I bought you!

"This new flashlight [he] bought [me]" was a free rape light he got for purchasing a real flashlight.

More importantly, it's hot today and the floozies are afoot.

Kind of.

There is a path behind JD's house and you can see it from every window. This afternoon, 4 teenage girls were rollerblading in 2 inch shorts, tank tops, jazzy tall socks, and penises draped over their vaginas. Bein' all loud and prostitutey while I'm trying to do my yoga belly 7. When JD rode past on his motorcycle, they waved and giggled at him. WAVED AND GIGGLED. They might as well have ripped off their American Eagle shorts flopped around on their backs.

I wasn't super cute in high school. Let's just say strangers weren't envious of my youthful beauty. I spun a flag in a >50 person marching band and ate chocolate frosting people off my fingers on the weekends. I didn't own shorts. 1. because my mom required they have a 6inch inseam 2. because they didn't make shorts that long in 2000 3. because even if bermuda shorts could be found in the juniors section at Kohls, I was too fat for them.

If I want to judge hot barely legal teens rollerblading on the path, I will do so. From the comfort of the couch, and then my car later on because we saw them again on the way to dinner.

Hussies.