Hello, Readers! Hooray for spare moments for blogging!
I feel this post is both timely and educational, as due to our unfortunate economic times, jobs are becoming scarce and there are a lot of new graduates out there. This is especially true in the library world.
To be more specific, I am in the middle of hiring for my department, and there are a lot of wack jobs out there. I wanted to share a list of dos-and-don'ts with you, in case you are a crackhead applying for jobs. Of course, I realize my readers know better than to make these errors when applying for positions, but this is still entertaining.
1. Do not submit an application that is entirely in bright blue, swirly font. It hurts my eyeballs, whose nerve endings are linked to the very finger I use to hit the "delete" button. If you are that obnoxious via pdf, I don't want to know you in person.
2. Please remember to read the job requirements. "Must have a library science degree" does not mean "...but it's ok if your entire work experience can be summed up in three letters." The three letters I am referring to in this particular case? KFC. Oh, how I wish I was making this up. Look, I know times are tough, guys, but even if I did have a soft spot for fryers of chicken (and believe me, I have a special place in my heart for them), my boss would shoot me if I hired someone like that and expected them to understand Boolean operators and database licensing agreements. Hey, you'd be a hit at the pot lucks, but let's be honest, it's just a complete waste of time for both of us.
3. It's a good idea to leave your political, religious and socially volatile views out of your cover letter. Funny, but I thought this was an obvious one.
4. If you do not know how to explain why you are interested in a job without sounding condescending to the potential new boss, get a good, honest friend to proofread your cover letters. And leave your ego at home.
5. There is NEVER a reason why your resume should be eleven pages long. Unless you are the leader of a G8 nation, keep it to 3 max.
6. Actually, no, it's not ok to say, "In lieu of a cover letter, I have expanded my resume with extra details. I hope this is ok." Especially not when the application instructions clearly state you have to submit a cover letter in addition to your resume.
7. Before you send in your references, double check to make sure they are not all personal friends. If they are, lie to me and say they are former coworkers.
8. Please do not call, email, then call, then email again, then call...and basically harass the crap out of me. It's annoying. Guess what kind of people I don't like working with.
9. Sending me an email apologizing for the spelling errors in your cover letter and resume will only convince me of your lack of attention to detail. They invented this thing called "spell check". Use it.
10. How the hell did your pdf pages end up out of order AND upside-down?? It was a word document to begin with! You are deleted, because I don't want to have to untangle your messes all the time.
11. If you went to Super Awesome Ivy League School, and you rest on your laurels for 35 years, yes, I will delete you. I don't care that you are smart and/or rich. I need someone who is active in the field and realizes that typewriters are as dead as dinosaurs. Who types their resume on a typewriter anymore????
12. That being said, there's the other side of the coin: if your resume looks like a train wreck, with a new job and/or career every six months, that does not bode well. I don't want to be your next experiment. Nor do I want to work with someone who can't get along with anyone. I could be wrong, but in my experience people with resumes like this either have no direction in life or they are very difficult to work with and are fired left and right.
13. If you are applying for the position I am offering, and accepting it means a massive pay cut and/or demotion in title and duties for you, this freaks me out. Hey, everyone has their dream job, but very few people want to go from being The Big Cheese to Bottom of the Totem Pole. This situation makes my warning bells go off. Something is not adding up right. Especially if you are still working at your old job. Fired or laid off, ok, I get it. But you're still the boss? And you want to volunteer for entry-level? Sounds suspicious.
14. If you have a question about the position, fine. That is understandable. (I personally go by the philosophy of, "Ok, I will just apply. If they like what they see, I will get to ask my questions in the interview.") But to hunt me down while I'm at work, then interrupt me while I am helping someone does NOT fly. Especially when you are wearing jeans and only want to know if the position is still open. Jeezus!!! You're applying to be a librarian. Someone who works with people. And guess what. People don't like being interrupted!!! Does the phrase "customer service" mean anything to you?
15. Speaking of what to wear, I am still young, and I consider myself laid-back and still relatively hip. I'm one of those people who doesn't care about small nose piercings, tattoos or black nailpolish. It's an art school. People are artsy. I get it. Just keep in mind that not everyone is like me. One of those people is my boss, who has ultimate veto power. And although the students wouldn't have a problem with it, some faculty members might. Guess how that reflects on me. Yeah.
I might have to add to this list if things keep going the way they are going! I had over 100 applications for my two positions, with more coming in every day. It's a long process, but at least it's an employer's market!
Showing posts with label pet peeves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pet peeves. Show all posts
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Monday, April 21, 2008
Cruise News, Part 3
As much as I have complained about the cruise, it was not all bad.
Friday, we were in port at Freeport. We decided not to go on any excursions that day, in order to save money. Besides, we were only there for about 7 hours, and none of the excursions sounded like they were can't-miss. Freeport is, according to all the travel websites and books I consulted, not anything worth seeing.
CN and I did look at the little tshirt shops that were literally right off the gangplank. I finally got to listen to someone speak in the local Bahamian accent. It sounds very similar to a Jamaican accent, but not as thick. After about an hour, we had seen everything there was to see, so we got back on the boat.
That night, we had our formal dinner. We went to the cocktail party beforehand, where we had yummy appetizers and drinks--all free. CN and I did a little slow dancing, which was nice (aw). For dinner, most of our group opted for the surf n turf combo: filet mignon and lobster tail. Aside from the lobster tail being rubbery and overcooked, it was good food.
Everyone changed into more comfortable clothes immediately after eating dinner, which doesn't really justify getting all dressed up to begin with. (Note to self: VB, you enjoy vacations which do not require formal wear.) Everything was going pretty well, and CN and I even managed to stay up with the rest of the group for about an hour. But by then, we were pooped, so we went to bed.
At some point that night, we were jarred awake by extremely loud banging on our door. At first, I imagined we were in the midst of some kind of Titanic-like sinking, or there was a big fire on board. CN, who was closer to the door, jumped up to see who was banging at the door.
No one was there. No one was even in the hallway.
Waking up in a panicked state is probably my least favorite thing in the whole world. So I was pretty pissed. "Stupid kids..." I mumbled, as I rolled back over to go back to sleep.
That's when the phone rang.
CN answered it.
"Hello?" asked CN.
*BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRP!!!* said Larva.
*click!* went the phone. Larva hung up on CN.
"It's Larva," explained CN. "I know him. He's not going to stop."
I groaned.
That's when the banging started again. As soon as CN would get up to tell Larva to stop, Larva would run down the hall, giggling, and finally ducking into his room in the nic of time. CN would come back to bed, and as soon as we had gotten comfortable and closed our eyes, the phone would ring again. Ignoring the phone did not work. It just kept ringing. Taking it off the hook caused it to make a very loud beeping sound. So we were forced to deal with the incessant ringing.
This went on for at least a half an hour. Banging. Ringing. Burping. Giggling. Repeat.
After round 3 of this, I had had enough. I stood up and informed CN that although Larva is his friend, I officially hate him and never wish to ever hang out with him again. And that this bullshit had to stop. Now.
CN was way ahead of me. He was even more pissed off than I was. "That's it. I'm punching him in the face. I'm going down to his room and when he opens the door, I'm clocking him," he announced.
CN went down to Larva's room. I can't remember how long he was there, since I was groggy at best. But I remember that CN came back frustrated that Larva wouldn't even answer the door. Neither would his wife, Sandra. (We found out later this was because she had PTFO.)
We tried to go back to sleep, but ended up tossing and turning for about an hour, since we were so wound up. We didn't sleep very well that night.
In the morning, we tried to get in better moods, despite Larva's lack of an apology. *grrrr* We had breakfast and then got ready for our port-of-call in Nassau. We all decided to spend $65 (each) on a 4 hour excursion and go together as a group. At 9am, we got onto a ferry for a 30 minute ride off the coast. By this point, the water was breathtaking. It looked like this, but better. I don't really know how to describe it, other than to say that all those photos you see of the Caribbean do not do the real thing any justice. The weather was perfect, and there was a nice breeze. Ahhh. So far, so good.
The ferry took us to a small island, where there was a beach, a bar, a souvenir shop and a snack shack. We had our photos taken, and then put our stuff down on some lawn chairs. Then, we went to a little roped-off area where we grabbed snorkeling equipment.
It was time to go swimming with sting rays.
Oh yes. The same animal that killed the Crocodile Hunter. Only these were de-barbed for our safety. Whew. On a side note, these animals are really creepy, so the barbs are really superfluous, IMHO.
I put on my snorkeling equipment and began swimming around the sting ray area. The creepy sting rays move like underwater birds. They tend to herd together and swim in schools. If you have ever seen a horseshoe crab, the sting ray looks like a flattened version of it! [Note: These two animals are not really related. Sting rays are related to sharks and horseshoe crabs are related to spiders and ticks. Sorry for the geek moment, folks.]
I am giddy with excitement about this whole experience. Not only were there sting rays of various sizes and colors, there were also white, blue and yellow fish. I am pretty sure some of them were Angelfish. I have gone snorkeling before, and I absolutely adore it. It's like being in a giant aquarium. So I was really enjoying this.
Until I realized........that I had no idea where my boyfriend was or if he was ok.
The same boyfriend who cannot swim.
Uh-oh.
I pulled my head up to look for him. I expected him to be in ankle-deep water, just watching everyone else, or practically drowning somewhere. He wasn't. He was only a few feet behind me, snorkeling!!! I was totally shocked. It turns out that he can sorta-kinda swim and doesn't start freaking out until the water is as deep as his chin. "Plus, the flotation device is helping," he said. (The flotation device was part of our snorkeling equipment.)
I was so proud of him.
Even if he jumped and squealed like a little girl any time one of the sting rays came close to him.
After letting us swim around for a while, the sting ray guides (keepers? handlers?) told us to line up into two lines and face each other. It was time to feed the sting rays. Cool! The sting rays must have known what the two lines meant, because they began to swim very quickly and swarm around us, rather than ignore us as they had moments before.
The guides (keepers? handlers??) then went around and handed each of us a handful of chopped up, raw squid. Um, thanks. Then they told us how to feed the sting rays by holding the squid under the water, just above the sand. The sting rays would swim over your hand and hoover up the squid parts. "They use suction to capture their food," the guide explained. Ew. Kind of like an underwater vacuum cleaner.
Thanks to my overactive imagination, the only image that came to mind was my arm, trapped inside a very angry sting ray, which was doing its best to suck the flesh off my bones as I screamed bloody murder and writhed in agony in the shallow area of this wading pool full of horrified cruise vacationers.
So when a sting ray came near me, I held the squid part under the water for a second, only to let go too soon and watch as the snack, intended for the sting ray, was snatched up by a fish. Oops. Sorry, Mr. Sting Ray. Next time, don't be so creepy, ok?
Next, I was shocked to see that some people were actually touching the sting rays. Didn't they realize they were risking their lives?? That their appendages could be shredded in an instant, much like a garbage disposal would, subjected to the unpredictable will of these shark cousins with extremely powerful suckage mechanisms in their mouths??? Were they insane???!! These are the pool drains of the animal kingdom! Keep your fingers and hair away, people!!!
"Cool! How does it feel??" I asked the guy across from me.
"Slimy!" he replied, excitedly.
"Oh, wow. I wanna touch one!" I said, suddenly forgetting my imagination's vivid and gory warnings.
The guy was right. They are slimy. Firm, but slimy. But as cool as it was, I didn't feel the need to touch them again. Once was plenty.
I looked down the line to see what CN was doing. He looked nervous and tense, and still jumped and yelped any time one of the sting rays came near. I couldn't help but laugh.
I found out later that a great deal of the yelping and jumping had to do with the fact that Larva had put squid parts in CN's pocket, so the sting rays were swarming around CN like bees.
Tee hee. As obnoxious as Larva is, I had to give him credit on that one.
After the sting rays, we had lunch and then hung out in the beach area for a little while. CN and I were enjoying the water, when we noticed a wild, fully barbed sting ray in the water. This was not one of the captive, tame ones we had just fed. It was huge, and it was headed our way.
This time, my overactive imagination threw potential newspaper headlines at me: "Couple, 29, Killed by Wild Sting Ray: 'It was just horrible to watch' witnesses say" and "Wildlife Community Warns of Vacation Danger: Man Never Had a Chance, Experts Say". So I grabbed CN's hand and practically dragged him out of the water lickety split.
"Gee, thanks, Mom," he said sarcastically.
"Shut up! I just saved your life! You can't swim!" I said.
He doesn't know that I was actually more scared of it than he was!!
Then it was time to go, so we all got back on the ferry and were, well, ferried back to our cruise ship. CN and I spent the rest of the day shopping in Nassau.
It was so nice to get off the boat, even if everything was just tshirt/souvenir shops. There was the occasional luxury goods store (Gucci, Bulgari, Fendi, Breitling), but the prices were still outrageous, even duty-free.
Like so many foreign cities around the world, escaping American culture was difficult: Ford cars on the streets, KFC was open for lunch and the U.S. Dollar was the currency. And everything was made in China. ;)
After wandering around for a while, I was very excited to see the big tent where they sell the fake designer handbags. I freaking love these things. They never look like the real thing, but they are still great-looking bags. This time, I got a big, yellow patent-leather Prada. (I will share a pic soon, promise!) I also got a small, black Coach and a large, black Coach tote. I got all three for $100. Yippee!!!!
I tell you what, if you ever go to The Bahamas, make sure you can make up your mind quickly. Everyone there is extremely pushy. They certainly do not take "no" for an answer! CN ended up buying a cigar from a kid, only to get him to shut up and go away. And they expect you to buy anything you look at longer than 5 seconds. I inspected one handbag for a good minute, only to tell the lady that I was not interested. She was really pissed and told me that I wasted her time!! "Well, you need to sell cuter fake handbags," I thought. Hmph!
By about 4pm, CN and I were pooped, so we went back to the boat and took another nice, long nap. It was the perfect end to a great day.
Friday, we were in port at Freeport. We decided not to go on any excursions that day, in order to save money. Besides, we were only there for about 7 hours, and none of the excursions sounded like they were can't-miss. Freeport is, according to all the travel websites and books I consulted, not anything worth seeing.
CN and I did look at the little tshirt shops that were literally right off the gangplank. I finally got to listen to someone speak in the local Bahamian accent. It sounds very similar to a Jamaican accent, but not as thick. After about an hour, we had seen everything there was to see, so we got back on the boat.
That night, we had our formal dinner. We went to the cocktail party beforehand, where we had yummy appetizers and drinks--all free. CN and I did a little slow dancing, which was nice (aw). For dinner, most of our group opted for the surf n turf combo: filet mignon and lobster tail. Aside from the lobster tail being rubbery and overcooked, it was good food.
Everyone changed into more comfortable clothes immediately after eating dinner, which doesn't really justify getting all dressed up to begin with. (Note to self: VB, you enjoy vacations which do not require formal wear.) Everything was going pretty well, and CN and I even managed to stay up with the rest of the group for about an hour. But by then, we were pooped, so we went to bed.
At some point that night, we were jarred awake by extremely loud banging on our door. At first, I imagined we were in the midst of some kind of Titanic-like sinking, or there was a big fire on board. CN, who was closer to the door, jumped up to see who was banging at the door.
No one was there. No one was even in the hallway.
Waking up in a panicked state is probably my least favorite thing in the whole world. So I was pretty pissed. "Stupid kids..." I mumbled, as I rolled back over to go back to sleep.
That's when the phone rang.
CN answered it.
"Hello?" asked CN.
*BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRP!!!* said Larva.
*click!* went the phone. Larva hung up on CN.
"It's Larva," explained CN. "I know him. He's not going to stop."
I groaned.
That's when the banging started again. As soon as CN would get up to tell Larva to stop, Larva would run down the hall, giggling, and finally ducking into his room in the nic of time. CN would come back to bed, and as soon as we had gotten comfortable and closed our eyes, the phone would ring again. Ignoring the phone did not work. It just kept ringing. Taking it off the hook caused it to make a very loud beeping sound. So we were forced to deal with the incessant ringing.
This went on for at least a half an hour. Banging. Ringing. Burping. Giggling. Repeat.
After round 3 of this, I had had enough. I stood up and informed CN that although Larva is his friend, I officially hate him and never wish to ever hang out with him again. And that this bullshit had to stop. Now.
CN was way ahead of me. He was even more pissed off than I was. "That's it. I'm punching him in the face. I'm going down to his room and when he opens the door, I'm clocking him," he announced.
CN went down to Larva's room. I can't remember how long he was there, since I was groggy at best. But I remember that CN came back frustrated that Larva wouldn't even answer the door. Neither would his wife, Sandra. (We found out later this was because she had PTFO.)
We tried to go back to sleep, but ended up tossing and turning for about an hour, since we were so wound up. We didn't sleep very well that night.
In the morning, we tried to get in better moods, despite Larva's lack of an apology. *grrrr* We had breakfast and then got ready for our port-of-call in Nassau. We all decided to spend $65 (each) on a 4 hour excursion and go together as a group. At 9am, we got onto a ferry for a 30 minute ride off the coast. By this point, the water was breathtaking. It looked like this, but better. I don't really know how to describe it, other than to say that all those photos you see of the Caribbean do not do the real thing any justice. The weather was perfect, and there was a nice breeze. Ahhh. So far, so good.
The ferry took us to a small island, where there was a beach, a bar, a souvenir shop and a snack shack. We had our photos taken, and then put our stuff down on some lawn chairs. Then, we went to a little roped-off area where we grabbed snorkeling equipment.
It was time to go swimming with sting rays.
Oh yes. The same animal that killed the Crocodile Hunter. Only these were de-barbed for our safety. Whew. On a side note, these animals are really creepy, so the barbs are really superfluous, IMHO.
I put on my snorkeling equipment and began swimming around the sting ray area. The creepy sting rays move like underwater birds. They tend to herd together and swim in schools. If you have ever seen a horseshoe crab, the sting ray looks like a flattened version of it! [Note: These two animals are not really related. Sting rays are related to sharks and horseshoe crabs are related to spiders and ticks. Sorry for the geek moment, folks.]
I am giddy with excitement about this whole experience. Not only were there sting rays of various sizes and colors, there were also white, blue and yellow fish. I am pretty sure some of them were Angelfish. I have gone snorkeling before, and I absolutely adore it. It's like being in a giant aquarium. So I was really enjoying this.
Until I realized........that I had no idea where my boyfriend was or if he was ok.
The same boyfriend who cannot swim.
Uh-oh.
I pulled my head up to look for him. I expected him to be in ankle-deep water, just watching everyone else, or practically drowning somewhere. He wasn't. He was only a few feet behind me, snorkeling!!! I was totally shocked. It turns out that he can sorta-kinda swim and doesn't start freaking out until the water is as deep as his chin. "Plus, the flotation device is helping," he said. (The flotation device was part of our snorkeling equipment.)
I was so proud of him.
Even if he jumped and squealed like a little girl any time one of the sting rays came close to him.
After letting us swim around for a while, the sting ray guides (keepers? handlers?) told us to line up into two lines and face each other. It was time to feed the sting rays. Cool! The sting rays must have known what the two lines meant, because they began to swim very quickly and swarm around us, rather than ignore us as they had moments before.
The guides (keepers? handlers??) then went around and handed each of us a handful of chopped up, raw squid. Um, thanks. Then they told us how to feed the sting rays by holding the squid under the water, just above the sand. The sting rays would swim over your hand and hoover up the squid parts. "They use suction to capture their food," the guide explained. Ew. Kind of like an underwater vacuum cleaner.
Thanks to my overactive imagination, the only image that came to mind was my arm, trapped inside a very angry sting ray, which was doing its best to suck the flesh off my bones as I screamed bloody murder and writhed in agony in the shallow area of this wading pool full of horrified cruise vacationers.
So when a sting ray came near me, I held the squid part under the water for a second, only to let go too soon and watch as the snack, intended for the sting ray, was snatched up by a fish. Oops. Sorry, Mr. Sting Ray. Next time, don't be so creepy, ok?
Next, I was shocked to see that some people were actually touching the sting rays. Didn't they realize they were risking their lives?? That their appendages could be shredded in an instant, much like a garbage disposal would, subjected to the unpredictable will of these shark cousins with extremely powerful suckage mechanisms in their mouths??? Were they insane???!! These are the pool drains of the animal kingdom! Keep your fingers and hair away, people!!!
"Cool! How does it feel??" I asked the guy across from me.
"Slimy!" he replied, excitedly.
"Oh, wow. I wanna touch one!" I said, suddenly forgetting my imagination's vivid and gory warnings.
The guy was right. They are slimy. Firm, but slimy. But as cool as it was, I didn't feel the need to touch them again. Once was plenty.
I looked down the line to see what CN was doing. He looked nervous and tense, and still jumped and yelped any time one of the sting rays came near. I couldn't help but laugh.
I found out later that a great deal of the yelping and jumping had to do with the fact that Larva had put squid parts in CN's pocket, so the sting rays were swarming around CN like bees.
Tee hee. As obnoxious as Larva is, I had to give him credit on that one.
After the sting rays, we had lunch and then hung out in the beach area for a little while. CN and I were enjoying the water, when we noticed a wild, fully barbed sting ray in the water. This was not one of the captive, tame ones we had just fed. It was huge, and it was headed our way.
This time, my overactive imagination threw potential newspaper headlines at me: "Couple, 29, Killed by Wild Sting Ray: 'It was just horrible to watch' witnesses say" and "Wildlife Community Warns of Vacation Danger: Man Never Had a Chance, Experts Say". So I grabbed CN's hand and practically dragged him out of the water lickety split.
"Gee, thanks, Mom," he said sarcastically.
"Shut up! I just saved your life! You can't swim!" I said.
He doesn't know that I was actually more scared of it than he was!!
Then it was time to go, so we all got back on the ferry and were, well, ferried back to our cruise ship. CN and I spent the rest of the day shopping in Nassau.
It was so nice to get off the boat, even if everything was just tshirt/souvenir shops. There was the occasional luxury goods store (Gucci, Bulgari, Fendi, Breitling), but the prices were still outrageous, even duty-free.
Like so many foreign cities around the world, escaping American culture was difficult: Ford cars on the streets, KFC was open for lunch and the U.S. Dollar was the currency. And everything was made in China. ;)
After wandering around for a while, I was very excited to see the big tent where they sell the fake designer handbags. I freaking love these things. They never look like the real thing, but they are still great-looking bags. This time, I got a big, yellow patent-leather Prada. (I will share a pic soon, promise!) I also got a small, black Coach and a large, black Coach tote. I got all three for $100. Yippee!!!!
I tell you what, if you ever go to The Bahamas, make sure you can make up your mind quickly. Everyone there is extremely pushy. They certainly do not take "no" for an answer! CN ended up buying a cigar from a kid, only to get him to shut up and go away. And they expect you to buy anything you look at longer than 5 seconds. I inspected one handbag for a good minute, only to tell the lady that I was not interested. She was really pissed and told me that I wasted her time!! "Well, you need to sell cuter fake handbags," I thought. Hmph!
By about 4pm, CN and I were pooped, so we went back to the boat and took another nice, long nap. It was the perfect end to a great day.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
The Men at Wal-Mart
Alright, since FEW people seem to be interested in my family stories, as evidenced by the paltry comments on the last post-- *ahem*-- I will not talk about that today.
So this is a big "FINE! Be that way!!" temper tantrum from yours truly. I know you guys are just jealous because my family has more boycotted marriages than yours does. Haters.
Today, I will post about something I know a lot of you will want to comment on: Wal-Mart.
Before going to work today, I stopped by the Wal-Mart near my house. MJ refers to this particular branch of the Big Box Store as "Little Mexico", since it is normally chock full of Hispanic immigrants who think blonde hair is the most fascinating thing EVER. They nudge each other when I go down the aisles. They stare at me. They like to call me "Mami" and "Bonita" and stuff like that under their breath. Uck. Why do men do that stuff? It's so annoying and rude, no matter who they are. It makes me feel objectified and I hate it. Something about it creeps me out. It makes me want to go home and take a shower. *shudders*
I wish I could learn how to respond in Spanish: "Yes, hello. While I am, in a nauseating way, flattered at the attention you are currently giving my outward appearance, I would like to inform you that it makes me feel very uncomfortable and violated, because it is rude and invasive, not to mention extremely dangerous, considering I outweigh you by about 50 pounds and could drop you like a hot tamale. Please refrain from doing so in the future or else I will be forced to call INS on your asses. Thanks. Have a nice day."
I need to type that up and make little flyers, and just hand them out when I go to Wal-Mart. That should do the trick.
So I'm at Wal-Mart this morning, and I am at first relieved by the noticeable absence of tiny Hispanic men, undressing me with their eyes. Whew!
Unfortunately, they were replaced with........
OLD PEOPLE!!!!
*screams bloody murder and faints*
If there is one thing I hate, it's old people. They are too slow, they smell funny and they are boring. I don't hate ALL old people, just most of them. There are some old people who kick ass, like The Fruitcake Lady. But unfortunately, this morning at Wal-Mart, there were no cool old people. (Except for the free samples lady who gave me a sugar cookie and tried to help me figure out the difference between semi-sweet and bittersweet chocolate.)
Nope. Today, there was a special deal at Wally World: disgusting old people! Just in time for Christmas!
NOTE: If you are eating while you are reading this, you may want to stop now. Don't say I didn't warn you.
I walk over to the coolers where they keep the milk. On my way, I pass an old man, hacking up one of his lungs. I am talking gurgling phlegm, here, peeps. He had just gotten some milk and put it into his cart, as he was coughing incessantly ALL OVER THE PLACE because he DIDN'T COVER HIS MOUTH AT ALL.
All in chorus now: Eeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwww!!!
I tried to put it in the back of my mind as I used my grocery list to grab the door handle. "Thank God I keep hand sanitizer in my car!" I thought. I grabbed my milk and put it in my cart.
Not three feet away, I look up to find Disgusting Old Man #2. He is -- get this - CUTTING HIS FINGERNAILS in the middle of the dairy department!!! Just clip! clip! clipping away!!! He wasn't even bothering to clean them up. He just let them fall on the floor.
This was so offensive to me that I could feel my stomach getting queasy and could not help but make a face as I passed. Unfortunately, he didn't see me, or else I would have said to him: "Does your wife let you do this? Because that's DISGUSTING!!!!" It is only because I was raised to respect my elders that I managed to walk away without saying something.
Gah. Unbelievable. What idiot thinks it's ok to do that?! In public???!! I won't even do it in front of my family members! Seriously, that is just.....disGUSting!!!
A few aisles later, I come across the baking aisle. Most of my list involves the baking aisle, since I cannot seem to kick this baking binge I've been on. I'm not kidding. Some people hole up in hotel rooms, smoking crack until the cops break down the door. I go on baking benders. People won't see me this weekend. I'll be holed up in my kitchen, baking soda in one hand and measuring spoons in the other. It will look like I'm on drugs, because I am sweaty, jittery and holding spoons and a white powder, but I assure you, it is only an addiction to baking. This is what happens when it's 4pm and all you've had to eat all day are chocolate chip cookies. It will mess you up, a little. And before you know it, you get hooked. I have been waking up in the morning, going, "Must. Bake. Something!" I don't know if it's the holidays or the cold weather or what, but dangit, I. Can. Not. Stop. Baking.
Well, apparently this is addiction is going around, because the baking aisle is jammed FULL of little old ladies, who were entirely too caught up in talking to even notice that I'm trying to get into the aisle. After pausing for a second to think, "Oh. I think I'm getting a glimpse at my future....I am turning into a little old lady who bakes all day. Huh. It's not so bad. I bet their grandkids love it.....Dammit, there's a shitload of old people in here today. Gah, are they bussing them in or something? Did the old folks home have a field trip?? What the hell?!" --I decided to go around them and come into the baking aisle from the other end.
So I'm going around via the cereal aisle. I turn right to get to the baking aisle and I see an old man, just standing at the end of the aisle. He's all alone -- no wife in sight -- uh-oh. As I am walking towards him, I see him looking around to see if anyone is nearby. For some reason, he doesn't look in my direction, although I'm practically close enough to touch him by this point.
And that's when he let one. He FRIGGING FARTED in Wal-Mart, right next to me. It was a very audible fart, too. And the second he did it, he looked straight at me, only to receive a disapproving look on my part. He was totally busted. He got a deer-in-headlights expression on his face, and then looked at the ground. He mumbled something as I passed by, but I didn't catch it. I was trying to get away from him before I had to deal with any after-effects. UGH.
Lucky for me, this was the last disgusting thing I have seen today. But thanks to these nasty old men, roaming around Wal-Mart, making everyone want to barf, I am now able to make a promise to future generations:
When I am a little old lady who bakes all day, I promise I will never EVER bring a disgusting old man with me to Wal-Mart!!!!!! I will make him stay in the car!!!!
So this is a big "FINE! Be that way!!" temper tantrum from yours truly. I know you guys are just jealous because my family has more boycotted marriages than yours does. Haters.
Today, I will post about something I know a lot of you will want to comment on: Wal-Mart.
Before going to work today, I stopped by the Wal-Mart near my house. MJ refers to this particular branch of the Big Box Store as "Little Mexico", since it is normally chock full of Hispanic immigrants who think blonde hair is the most fascinating thing EVER. They nudge each other when I go down the aisles. They stare at me. They like to call me "Mami" and "Bonita" and stuff like that under their breath. Uck. Why do men do that stuff? It's so annoying and rude, no matter who they are. It makes me feel objectified and I hate it. Something about it creeps me out. It makes me want to go home and take a shower. *shudders*
I wish I could learn how to respond in Spanish: "Yes, hello. While I am, in a nauseating way, flattered at the attention you are currently giving my outward appearance, I would like to inform you that it makes me feel very uncomfortable and violated, because it is rude and invasive, not to mention extremely dangerous, considering I outweigh you by about 50 pounds and could drop you like a hot tamale. Please refrain from doing so in the future or else I will be forced to call INS on your asses. Thanks. Have a nice day."
I need to type that up and make little flyers, and just hand them out when I go to Wal-Mart. That should do the trick.
So I'm at Wal-Mart this morning, and I am at first relieved by the noticeable absence of tiny Hispanic men, undressing me with their eyes. Whew!
Unfortunately, they were replaced with........
OLD PEOPLE!!!!
*screams bloody murder and faints*
If there is one thing I hate, it's old people. They are too slow, they smell funny and they are boring. I don't hate ALL old people, just most of them. There are some old people who kick ass, like The Fruitcake Lady. But unfortunately, this morning at Wal-Mart, there were no cool old people. (Except for the free samples lady who gave me a sugar cookie and tried to help me figure out the difference between semi-sweet and bittersweet chocolate.)
Nope. Today, there was a special deal at Wally World: disgusting old people! Just in time for Christmas!
NOTE: If you are eating while you are reading this, you may want to stop now. Don't say I didn't warn you.
I walk over to the coolers where they keep the milk. On my way, I pass an old man, hacking up one of his lungs. I am talking gurgling phlegm, here, peeps. He had just gotten some milk and put it into his cart, as he was coughing incessantly ALL OVER THE PLACE because he DIDN'T COVER HIS MOUTH AT ALL.
All in chorus now: Eeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwww!!!
I tried to put it in the back of my mind as I used my grocery list to grab the door handle. "Thank God I keep hand sanitizer in my car!" I thought. I grabbed my milk and put it in my cart.
Not three feet away, I look up to find Disgusting Old Man #2. He is -- get this - CUTTING HIS FINGERNAILS in the middle of the dairy department!!! Just clip! clip! clipping away!!! He wasn't even bothering to clean them up. He just let them fall on the floor.
This was so offensive to me that I could feel my stomach getting queasy and could not help but make a face as I passed. Unfortunately, he didn't see me, or else I would have said to him: "Does your wife let you do this? Because that's DISGUSTING!!!!" It is only because I was raised to respect my elders that I managed to walk away without saying something.
Gah. Unbelievable. What idiot thinks it's ok to do that?! In public???!! I won't even do it in front of my family members! Seriously, that is just.....disGUSting!!!
A few aisles later, I come across the baking aisle. Most of my list involves the baking aisle, since I cannot seem to kick this baking binge I've been on. I'm not kidding. Some people hole up in hotel rooms, smoking crack until the cops break down the door. I go on baking benders. People won't see me this weekend. I'll be holed up in my kitchen, baking soda in one hand and measuring spoons in the other. It will look like I'm on drugs, because I am sweaty, jittery and holding spoons and a white powder, but I assure you, it is only an addiction to baking. This is what happens when it's 4pm and all you've had to eat all day are chocolate chip cookies. It will mess you up, a little. And before you know it, you get hooked. I have been waking up in the morning, going, "Must. Bake. Something!" I don't know if it's the holidays or the cold weather or what, but dangit, I. Can. Not. Stop. Baking.
Well, apparently this is addiction is going around, because the baking aisle is jammed FULL of little old ladies, who were entirely too caught up in talking to even notice that I'm trying to get into the aisle. After pausing for a second to think, "Oh. I think I'm getting a glimpse at my future....I am turning into a little old lady who bakes all day. Huh. It's not so bad. I bet their grandkids love it.....Dammit, there's a shitload of old people in here today. Gah, are they bussing them in or something? Did the old folks home have a field trip?? What the hell?!" --I decided to go around them and come into the baking aisle from the other end.
So I'm going around via the cereal aisle. I turn right to get to the baking aisle and I see an old man, just standing at the end of the aisle. He's all alone -- no wife in sight -- uh-oh. As I am walking towards him, I see him looking around to see if anyone is nearby. For some reason, he doesn't look in my direction, although I'm practically close enough to touch him by this point.
And that's when he let one. He FRIGGING FARTED in Wal-Mart, right next to me. It was a very audible fart, too. And the second he did it, he looked straight at me, only to receive a disapproving look on my part. He was totally busted. He got a deer-in-headlights expression on his face, and then looked at the ground. He mumbled something as I passed by, but I didn't catch it. I was trying to get away from him before I had to deal with any after-effects. UGH.
Lucky for me, this was the last disgusting thing I have seen today. But thanks to these nasty old men, roaming around Wal-Mart, making everyone want to barf, I am now able to make a promise to future generations:
When I am a little old lady who bakes all day, I promise I will never EVER bring a disgusting old man with me to Wal-Mart!!!!!! I will make him stay in the car!!!!
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Six
I've been tagged by Smug to do that "6 Weird Facts About You" meme. Which is funny, because I've already done it here and here. And I have done 100 Things About Me. Twice. But what are blogs, if not self-involved, right?
Besides, I still have writer's block. So being tagged is good for me, but bad for you. Ha ha! Let's see.
1. Careers I have thought about pursuing include: real estate agent, writer, pastry chef, travel agent, something in PR, something in advertising/marketing, staff member for a Congressman/Senator, make-up artist, shoe designer, nanny for a disgustingly wealthy family, location scout, someone who does a lot of research to see if it's a good idea to build that housing development/shopping mall/skyscraper there, history professor, school district superintendent, personal assistant. And of course, my dream job: high school principal. At a BIG high school.
2. One of my biggest pet peeves are people who won't take "no" for an answer. Drives me INSANE. I dislike pushy people in general, actually. This goes for salesmen, mothers, customers, colleagues...anyone.
3. I hate the Post Office. Every time I'm in one, I spend my 20 minutes waiting in line thinking of ways to make the Post Office more efficient. By the time I get to the front of the line, I want to scream. Inefficiency also drives me batty.
4. I feel extremely self-conscious at the gym. I do not make eye contact or talk to anyone. This is really strange, because I'm normally really outgoing and sociable. I don't know why I'm like that. Maybe it's the spandex I'm wearing. It kinda makes me feel fat. But I don't like working out in anything else, so....yeah.
5. I do not own a camera. I never have. I use those disposable ones. Or I mooch from my friends. Yes, I'm that annoying friend who always wants you to email the pics to her. For some reason, I just can never justify the purchase. Probably because I know I will probably never be one of those people who takes pictures all the time. I think this will be one of my New Year's Resolutions: get a camera and use it!
6. I have only stolen one thing in my entire life: a lollipop from a grocery store. I was about 5 years old. I have felt guilty ever since, especially since I didn't get caught!
I am not tagging anyone because I want to post another post right away! Do this if you want...
Besides, I still have writer's block. So being tagged is good for me, but bad for you. Ha ha! Let's see.
1. Careers I have thought about pursuing include: real estate agent, writer, pastry chef, travel agent, something in PR, something in advertising/marketing, staff member for a Congressman/Senator, make-up artist, shoe designer, nanny for a disgustingly wealthy family, location scout, someone who does a lot of research to see if it's a good idea to build that housing development/shopping mall/skyscraper there, history professor, school district superintendent, personal assistant. And of course, my dream job: high school principal. At a BIG high school.
2. One of my biggest pet peeves are people who won't take "no" for an answer. Drives me INSANE. I dislike pushy people in general, actually. This goes for salesmen, mothers, customers, colleagues...anyone.
3. I hate the Post Office. Every time I'm in one, I spend my 20 minutes waiting in line thinking of ways to make the Post Office more efficient. By the time I get to the front of the line, I want to scream. Inefficiency also drives me batty.
4. I feel extremely self-conscious at the gym. I do not make eye contact or talk to anyone. This is really strange, because I'm normally really outgoing and sociable. I don't know why I'm like that. Maybe it's the spandex I'm wearing. It kinda makes me feel fat. But I don't like working out in anything else, so....yeah.
5. I do not own a camera. I never have. I use those disposable ones. Or I mooch from my friends. Yes, I'm that annoying friend who always wants you to email the pics to her. For some reason, I just can never justify the purchase. Probably because I know I will probably never be one of those people who takes pictures all the time. I think this will be one of my New Year's Resolutions: get a camera and use it!
6. I have only stolen one thing in my entire life: a lollipop from a grocery store. I was about 5 years old. I have felt guilty ever since, especially since I didn't get caught!
I am not tagging anyone because I want to post another post right away! Do this if you want...
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Writer's Block
Well, crap. I am suffering from major blog writer's block. I don't have much of anything to report. Everything is sort of "same shit, different day". Not that I'm complaining. It's just hard to blog. I'm sure I can come up with something. Um, let's see...
CN is fine. He's still wonderful. Although he did lose some points this past weekend. On Sunday, I told him I would make dinner for him when he got back from watching the Falcons play. I wanted to eat at 6pm, but he said that he was still full from all the nachos he ate at 3pm.
Now, this is just a word of advice to men: if your woman is making you dinner, DO NOT spoil your dinner by eating nachos mid-afternoon. It's very inconsiderate.
"Grrrr..." I thought.
"Ok, how about dinner at 7pm?" I texted.
"Sounds good!" he replied.
Soon it is 7:00. No CN to be found. At this point, dinner is ready to eat and waiting on him to cross the street to my house. He was probably sitting on his couch, watching "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" or "Curb Your Enthusiasm".
"Grrr..." I thought.
Word of advice to anyone: It is rude to be late to dinner. Usually because it means people are waiting on you and the food is being kept warm. Sometimes, keeping it warm can affect the quality of the food. Sometimes, this can cause the rice to stick to the pot like.....well, like white on rice. This kind of rice is extremely difficult to scrub off of said pot. Which often makes cooks angry.
"GRRRRR!!!" I thought as 7:15 ticked by.
I sat down on my couch, too stubborn to call him and see what in the hell he was doing. I began to work on my recipe organizing project to distract myself from my irritation. I was still busy working on it when he decided to show up. It was 7:30.
"GRRRRR!!!" I thought when he walked in the door.
"Rumble!!" said my empty tummy. (I was ready to eat at 6pm, so I was pretty hungry by this point.....although, my anger was definitely causing me to begin to lose my appetite.)
"Hey Babe! I have been so lazy today. I just laid on my couch after I got home from watching the game..." said CN.
"Hi," I said, frigidly. No hug. No eye contact. I was Ice Queen.
He instantly knew something was wrong. I told him I was annoyed and hungry. He said he didn't realize I was waiting on him. That's when I informed him that cooking dinner is different than cooking breakfast -- it's more than just cracking a couple of eggs into a frying pan. It takes time. If I say we are eating at 7:00, that means forkfuls of food are being sent to my empty tummy at that time. Then I told him that I was more irritated at the fact that he spoiled his dinner by eating a whole thing of nachos late in the afternoon when he knew I was making him dinner. That's just inconsiderate.
Ok, I didn't tell him he was inconsiderate. But I did make him feel badly. He apologized profusely and asked if he could do anything to make it up to me. I told him he had to do all the dishes, even the stuck-rice one. He said ok.
We ate. He washed. I felt better. We had a make-up smooching session.
Unfortunately, the handle on the rice pot broke during all of this (um...during dinner, not during the make-out session, that is). It was my fault, not his. And I was kind of upset, because the pot used to belong to my Grandma Virginia. I never met her, and I am named after her. All I have are her recipes and her pot, which is now broken. It is pretty old (from about the 1950s, I think), so I guess it had to go sometime. CN can't fix the handle, and neither can I. It's cracked, and the screw won't "stick". Glue might work, but I'm thinking it might melt or something when I heat up the pot. So I might see if I can find a replacement on eBay. I'm kind of bummed out about the pot, actually. :'(
I am secretly hoping CN will read my mind and get me a replacement pot for Christmas......but I'm not holding my breath. And if you are one of my readers who knows CN in real life, please do not tell him this, because then it won't count. Guys have to think up their own things for girlfriends for Christmas. That's the rule.
Anyway....let's see, what else.......
Last night, MJ and I hung out -- we were sorely in need of some Girl Time. In fact, we are having MORE Girl Time this weekend! Woo Hoo! We love hanging out with our new boyfs, but after having Boyfriend Weekends last weekend, we are wanting some alone/friend time. I am excited -- I haven't gone out with just MJ and KT in a long, long time.
Tonight I'm hanging out with CN, though. I haven't really seen him or talked to him since the Dinner Incident, and he really wants to see me. "I want to take you out somewhere nice for dinner. Are you free tonight?" he texted me today. How can you be mad at this guy? He's such a sweetheart.
Ugh. This blog is turning into a Boyfriend Blog. Which makes me kinda throw up a little. I need to get some variety in here. Does anyone have any ideas? Posting requests? I have major writers' block, guys! Help!
CN is fine. He's still wonderful. Although he did lose some points this past weekend. On Sunday, I told him I would make dinner for him when he got back from watching the Falcons play. I wanted to eat at 6pm, but he said that he was still full from all the nachos he ate at 3pm.
Now, this is just a word of advice to men: if your woman is making you dinner, DO NOT spoil your dinner by eating nachos mid-afternoon. It's very inconsiderate.
"Grrrr..." I thought.
"Ok, how about dinner at 7pm?" I texted.
"Sounds good!" he replied.
Soon it is 7:00. No CN to be found. At this point, dinner is ready to eat and waiting on him to cross the street to my house. He was probably sitting on his couch, watching "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" or "Curb Your Enthusiasm".
"Grrr..." I thought.
Word of advice to anyone: It is rude to be late to dinner. Usually because it means people are waiting on you and the food is being kept warm. Sometimes, keeping it warm can affect the quality of the food. Sometimes, this can cause the rice to stick to the pot like.....well, like white on rice. This kind of rice is extremely difficult to scrub off of said pot. Which often makes cooks angry.
"GRRRRR!!!" I thought as 7:15 ticked by.
I sat down on my couch, too stubborn to call him and see what in the hell he was doing. I began to work on my recipe organizing project to distract myself from my irritation. I was still busy working on it when he decided to show up. It was 7:30.
"GRRRRR!!!" I thought when he walked in the door.
"Rumble!!" said my empty tummy. (I was ready to eat at 6pm, so I was pretty hungry by this point.....although, my anger was definitely causing me to begin to lose my appetite.)
"Hey Babe! I have been so lazy today. I just laid on my couch after I got home from watching the game..." said CN.
"Hi," I said, frigidly. No hug. No eye contact. I was Ice Queen.
He instantly knew something was wrong. I told him I was annoyed and hungry. He said he didn't realize I was waiting on him. That's when I informed him that cooking dinner is different than cooking breakfast -- it's more than just cracking a couple of eggs into a frying pan. It takes time. If I say we are eating at 7:00, that means forkfuls of food are being sent to my empty tummy at that time. Then I told him that I was more irritated at the fact that he spoiled his dinner by eating a whole thing of nachos late in the afternoon when he knew I was making him dinner. That's just inconsiderate.
Ok, I didn't tell him he was inconsiderate. But I did make him feel badly. He apologized profusely and asked if he could do anything to make it up to me. I told him he had to do all the dishes, even the stuck-rice one. He said ok.
We ate. He washed. I felt better. We had a make-up smooching session.
Unfortunately, the handle on the rice pot broke during all of this (um...during dinner, not during the make-out session, that is). It was my fault, not his. And I was kind of upset, because the pot used to belong to my Grandma Virginia. I never met her, and I am named after her. All I have are her recipes and her pot, which is now broken. It is pretty old (from about the 1950s, I think), so I guess it had to go sometime. CN can't fix the handle, and neither can I. It's cracked, and the screw won't "stick". Glue might work, but I'm thinking it might melt or something when I heat up the pot. So I might see if I can find a replacement on eBay. I'm kind of bummed out about the pot, actually. :'(
I am secretly hoping CN will read my mind and get me a replacement pot for Christmas......but I'm not holding my breath. And if you are one of my readers who knows CN in real life, please do not tell him this, because then it won't count. Guys have to think up their own things for girlfriends for Christmas. That's the rule.
Anyway....let's see, what else.......
Last night, MJ and I hung out -- we were sorely in need of some Girl Time. In fact, we are having MORE Girl Time this weekend! Woo Hoo! We love hanging out with our new boyfs, but after having Boyfriend Weekends last weekend, we are wanting some alone/friend time. I am excited -- I haven't gone out with just MJ and KT in a long, long time.
Tonight I'm hanging out with CN, though. I haven't really seen him or talked to him since the Dinner Incident, and he really wants to see me. "I want to take you out somewhere nice for dinner. Are you free tonight?" he texted me today. How can you be mad at this guy? He's such a sweetheart.
Ugh. This blog is turning into a Boyfriend Blog. Which makes me kinda throw up a little. I need to get some variety in here. Does anyone have any ideas? Posting requests? I have major writers' block, guys! Help!
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Proper First Date Behavior (Part1)
3rd in a series. See below.
Let's see. Where did we leave off? Oh yes. You have the plan. You have made the date.
Oh, I didn't discuss lunch vs. dinner date or weekday vs. weekend date. Hmmm. You know, Phantom Hater had good logic behind his love of lunch dates. (See comments in last post.) But I'm a firm believer in Chris Brander's advice in Just Friends: Friends go on lunch dates. So if you are worried that you might possibly be in The Friend Zone (TFZ), dispel all confusion by taking Crush Girl out to dinner. Other than that, I'm going to say, go with whatever. Some people can't really afford to be picky about when their dates occur. *ahem*
Ironic that I've been posting about dating, isn't it? In the 5 years I've lived here, I've been single for 4 of them. WOW.
Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. It's Date Day (or Night).
This is how to AVOID major foul-ups which could land you a slap in the face and/or Sunday Brunch ridiculing by your date and her girlfriends: Try and make a good impression by being polite and courteous. Try and get to know your date. Relax and have fun -- it's dating, not a job interview.
Oh! You want details? Well, ok. To make this more accessible for my male readers, I will structure this like a game. The more points you get, the better you do.
1. Clean your car. Some girls *ahem* watch this very closely. You might even call it "The Clean Car Test". Guys who clean their cars are out to impress. Be that guy. +/-50
2. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: DO NOT BE LATE. It's insulting and shows a general lack of consideration. It's a good way to make your date feel unimportant. That's not good. Yes, I realize she will still be getting ready when you arrive. This does not mean you can fudge on 10 minutes. You must be on time. If you are going to be more than 10 minutes late, a PHONE CALL is required. And you'd better have a good excuse: your dog is sick, you got a flat tire, you are bleeding from your eye sockets, etc. If you don't have a good excuse, DO NOT LIE. (Do you really want to start lying to her already? You haven't even gone out yet!) Just tell us you're an idiot who lost track of time. We like it when you acknowledge your idiocy. This will actually score you points. If you are late, even with a good excuse, you are expected to make a humble apology. Three times.
Being on time is NOT THAT HARD. Suck it up, be an adult, and be on time. Please and thank you.
On time: expected, so no points. Being late: -100 points for every 5 minutes you are late. Apologizing for being late: expected, so no points. Apologizing fewer than 3 times, or just generally acting like it's no big deal: -100. Calling to say you're going to be late: +5
Note: If you are someone who is chronically tardy, do not worry. Some girls are lax on the tardiness rule, since they, too, are chronically tardy (gee...wonder who I'm referring to....). But the First Date is different. Better to play it safe and be on time. You can ask her during the date if she's a stickler for punctuality. This is called "Learning What She Likes" and it's another one of your goals.
Note: Do NOT show up 30 minutes ahead of time, like one guy did to me once. I had to entertain him for 30 minutes (he needed the TV remote, a drink, etc.) AND he had to see me without makeup on. Not good. Very irritating. Stick to no more than 10 minutes early. Any more than that, and you will lose 50 points.
3. Pick her up at her house (or place of employment). I cannot stress this enough. It shows you're willing to go the extra step. First of all, she's probably going to be running late (tweezing, powdering, outfit changing, hair do-ing, etc.) so you're going to be waiting on her anyway. Second of all, you don't want her thinking, "Gah, he can't even be bothered to pick me up on the FIRST date? This guy is so full of himself, he doesn't care about making an impression on me. Or else he's just incredibly lazy. What a jerk. I'm ordering the lobster." -- See? Like being on time, it's just better to pick her up. You can ask her on the date if she's cool with meeting up next time. ( "Learning What She Likes".) Most girls are considerate and accommodating in this regard, especially if decent amounts of time or money are expended in order to pick her up.
Picking her up for the first date: expected (usually). Picking her up, always: the points progress in value the longer you do it. So if you are still picking her up for everything 6 months into the relationship, you're getting about 100 points per pick-up. Picking her up, but whining about it: -25 points.
Note: Do not take it personally if she's a little on the paranoid side, and wants to meet you there on the first date. Some girls are just hyper-aware of safety. It doesn't mean you're creepy. If you were creepy, she wouldn't be going out with you. In theory.
Note: Another reason you want to pick her up is so that she doesn't have to wait on YOU to arrive. At best, she'll be mad that she had to wait alone, and at worst, another guy could steal your date! (-500 points)
Note: You will probably score lots of points if you are the guy who ALWAYS picks her up. If she thinks you're crazy for being that way or protests the idea, you can just say, "You're worth the effort." You will score even more points (+8,000). This will make it much easier to get into her pants later on.
Note: By picking her up at her place of employment/house, you can get a glimpse into her world: what she's like, what she surrounds herself with, whether or not her coworkers/roommate likes her. This is all good for information-gathering purposes. You can learn a LOT about someone by seeing the inside of their house. Good things to look at while you wait for her, ever so innocently: pics on her fridge, amount of clutter, books/movies/CDs/magazines laying around, evidence of an ability to cook, absence of objects which would indicate there's another man in her life.
4. Do not be negative, whiny or complaining. It's not fun to listen to people bitch and moan. Dates are supposed to be fun. People like being around people who are happy and positive. Feel free to keep track of how negative she is being, btw. No one wants to be dating Debbie Downer. Being negative: -25 pts. per incident.
5. One of the first things you should say is how fantastic/beautiful/gorgeous/hot/thin your date looks. Remember, we will NEVER get sick of hearing this until the day we die, so feel free to gush about it periodically throughout the date. Throw in a "Wow!" or a "No, really, I mean, WOW!" and you'll get even more points. Ca-ching! Ca-ching! Ca-ching! Can you hear the points racking up??? (+100 per compliment) Don't overdo it, though or we will stop believing you. 3 times per date is pretty good.
6. Regarding doors and their opening. Unfortunately, this is one of those things where Every Woman is Different. However, I would advise any unsure, single guy to continue opening all doors for her unless she tells you to stop or grabs the door first. That is her way of saying, "I appreciate your kindness, but this isn't 1886 and I can get my own door, thanks. In fact, how about I hold it for you, too?" Rare is the modern girl who would be grossly offended by your opening the door for her. So when in doubt, hold and open all doors: car, restaurant, building, etc. It's better to slightly offend a modern woman (-15 points) than to GREATLY offend an old-fashioned one (-25,000). Because as an old-fashioned woman, I can tell you it really ticks me off when I'm not even worth a door holding. It will blow the date, actually--dating privileges will be revoked. In fact, if the door is not held for me, I will patiently wait until it is. One guy was halfway to the restaurant table with the hostess before realizing I was still outside, waiting for the door. High maintenance? Maybe. But he was very embarrassed, let me tell you.*
* I would like the record to show that this is pretty much the only high-maintenance thing I do. Doors are a big deal to me. You don't have to take me shopping or drive a nice car to impress me. Just open the damn door. It's not that hard. And I'm sure I'm not the only girl who feels like this. Ladies, back me up.
Note: Feel free to stop holding doors open if she doesn't say "Thank you," each and every time. We should be polite, too.
Note: Here's a crazy notion! If you don't know if she would like the doors opened for her, ASK. (+25 points for caring enough to ask.) This is another part of that whole "Learning What She Likes" thing.
7. Keep in mind that women's bodies are not as warm as men's bodies. This has been scientifically proven. There's about an 8 degrees Fahrenheit difference between the sexes when it comes to "comfy". Women get cold very easily, so you will get points for asking her if she is hot/cold/comfortable when you're in the car or at the restaurant. This is called "being courteous." Guess what kind of guy we like to kiss. Ding! Ding! Ding! You got it. (+ 75)
8. Turn the music down when you're in the car. What's more important, her telling you something about herself or listening to "Panama City" for the 4,367th time? Don't you want to hear what she has to say? If not, then why are you on this date?? (+75)
9. Avoid introducing Crush Girl to your Inner Hulk. Deep breaths. No yelling at other drivers. We want to feel like we are out with gentlemen who are in control of themselves, not silverback gorillas who are proverbially beating their chests when their manhood is challenged. Also included in this category are temper tantrums, jealous behavior, etc. (Gorilla-like behavior: -500 per occurrence.)
10. Another one of your goals should be to make your date feel safe at all times. Guys don't think about it much, because they are big, strong, brave and know how to fix stuff, so they don't need to worry about these things. But girls are usually of a more fragile physical nature. A lot of us have no idea what to do when the tire goes flat or when a bird flies inside the house. And we live in constant fear that around the next corner is a mugger, waiting to rob us, rape us and slit our throat. That's why we all carry those little mace things on our keychains. It also plays a role in why we like muscles and tall men so much. Big and strong = safety. You can put your date at ease by reassuring her you can protect her in case of muggers/natural disasters/giant insects/Armageddon/scary things in general. (+5,000 for giving off the "you're safe with me!" vibe, with an extra bonus of 20,000 points if you actually end up protecting her from something truly dangerous. Unless it's a big bug, which only counts for 75 points per bug. If we have to call our fathers or brothers for help, because you are as useless as a little girl when a crisis arises, -25,000. If you carry a gun to work, I will give you + 10,000 bonus. But that's just me. Guns are hot.)
I remember I was on a date with a nice guy once. We were leaving a movie theater when a SUPER creepy guy walked up to us and asked to bum a cigarette. If I had been alone, I would have literally run away from the guy--he was that scary. So imagine my terror to find that not only was my date giving him a smoke, but he proceeded to sit and chat with him for about 5 minutes. Not only was he not quickly whisking me away from Mr. Creepy, he was exposing me to more Mr. Creepy time. That was the last time I went out with that guy. If a girl can't feel safe with you, you don't have anything.
Note: This does not give you license to get into fist fights over trivial matters while on the date. There's a difference between feeling like we are safe and feeling like we are babysitting. See #9, above. (Fist fight on a date = -25,000. In most cases, your dating privileges will also be revoked.)
Part 2 is tomorrow....
Comments? Criticism? Praise? Let's discuss.
Let's see. Where did we leave off? Oh yes. You have the plan. You have made the date.
Oh, I didn't discuss lunch vs. dinner date or weekday vs. weekend date. Hmmm. You know, Phantom Hater had good logic behind his love of lunch dates. (See comments in last post.) But I'm a firm believer in Chris Brander's advice in Just Friends: Friends go on lunch dates. So if you are worried that you might possibly be in The Friend Zone (TFZ), dispel all confusion by taking Crush Girl out to dinner. Other than that, I'm going to say, go with whatever. Some people can't really afford to be picky about when their dates occur. *ahem*
Ironic that I've been posting about dating, isn't it? In the 5 years I've lived here, I've been single for 4 of them. WOW.
Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. It's Date Day (or Night).
This is how to AVOID major foul-ups which could land you a slap in the face and/or Sunday Brunch ridiculing by your date and her girlfriends: Try and make a good impression by being polite and courteous. Try and get to know your date. Relax and have fun -- it's dating, not a job interview.
Oh! You want details? Well, ok. To make this more accessible for my male readers, I will structure this like a game. The more points you get, the better you do.
1. Clean your car. Some girls *ahem* watch this very closely. You might even call it "The Clean Car Test". Guys who clean their cars are out to impress. Be that guy. +/-50
2. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: DO NOT BE LATE. It's insulting and shows a general lack of consideration. It's a good way to make your date feel unimportant. That's not good. Yes, I realize she will still be getting ready when you arrive. This does not mean you can fudge on 10 minutes. You must be on time. If you are going to be more than 10 minutes late, a PHONE CALL is required. And you'd better have a good excuse: your dog is sick, you got a flat tire, you are bleeding from your eye sockets, etc. If you don't have a good excuse, DO NOT LIE. (Do you really want to start lying to her already? You haven't even gone out yet!) Just tell us you're an idiot who lost track of time. We like it when you acknowledge your idiocy. This will actually score you points. If you are late, even with a good excuse, you are expected to make a humble apology. Three times.
Being on time is NOT THAT HARD. Suck it up, be an adult, and be on time. Please and thank you.
On time: expected, so no points. Being late: -100 points for every 5 minutes you are late. Apologizing for being late: expected, so no points. Apologizing fewer than 3 times, or just generally acting like it's no big deal: -100. Calling to say you're going to be late: +5
Note: If you are someone who is chronically tardy, do not worry. Some girls are lax on the tardiness rule, since they, too, are chronically tardy (gee...wonder who I'm referring to....). But the First Date is different. Better to play it safe and be on time. You can ask her during the date if she's a stickler for punctuality. This is called "Learning What She Likes" and it's another one of your goals.
Note: Do NOT show up 30 minutes ahead of time, like one guy did to me once. I had to entertain him for 30 minutes (he needed the TV remote, a drink, etc.) AND he had to see me without makeup on. Not good. Very irritating. Stick to no more than 10 minutes early. Any more than that, and you will lose 50 points.
3. Pick her up at her house (or place of employment). I cannot stress this enough. It shows you're willing to go the extra step. First of all, she's probably going to be running late (tweezing, powdering, outfit changing, hair do-ing, etc.) so you're going to be waiting on her anyway. Second of all, you don't want her thinking, "Gah, he can't even be bothered to pick me up on the FIRST date? This guy is so full of himself, he doesn't care about making an impression on me. Or else he's just incredibly lazy. What a jerk. I'm ordering the lobster." -- See? Like being on time, it's just better to pick her up. You can ask her on the date if she's cool with meeting up next time. ( "Learning What She Likes".) Most girls are considerate and accommodating in this regard, especially if decent amounts of time or money are expended in order to pick her up.
Picking her up for the first date: expected (usually). Picking her up, always: the points progress in value the longer you do it. So if you are still picking her up for everything 6 months into the relationship, you're getting about 100 points per pick-up. Picking her up, but whining about it: -25 points.
Note: Do not take it personally if she's a little on the paranoid side, and wants to meet you there on the first date. Some girls are just hyper-aware of safety. It doesn't mean you're creepy. If you were creepy, she wouldn't be going out with you. In theory.
Note: Another reason you want to pick her up is so that she doesn't have to wait on YOU to arrive. At best, she'll be mad that she had to wait alone, and at worst, another guy could steal your date! (-500 points)
Note: You will probably score lots of points if you are the guy who ALWAYS picks her up. If she thinks you're crazy for being that way or protests the idea, you can just say, "You're worth the effort." You will score even more points (+8,000). This will make it much easier to get into her pants later on.
Note: By picking her up at her place of employment/house, you can get a glimpse into her world: what she's like, what she surrounds herself with, whether or not her coworkers/roommate likes her. This is all good for information-gathering purposes. You can learn a LOT about someone by seeing the inside of their house. Good things to look at while you wait for her, ever so innocently: pics on her fridge, amount of clutter, books/movies/CDs/magazines laying around, evidence of an ability to cook, absence of objects which would indicate there's another man in her life.
4. Do not be negative, whiny or complaining. It's not fun to listen to people bitch and moan. Dates are supposed to be fun. People like being around people who are happy and positive. Feel free to keep track of how negative she is being, btw. No one wants to be dating Debbie Downer. Being negative: -25 pts. per incident.
5. One of the first things you should say is how fantastic/beautiful/gorgeous/hot/thin your date looks. Remember, we will NEVER get sick of hearing this until the day we die, so feel free to gush about it periodically throughout the date. Throw in a "Wow!" or a "No, really, I mean, WOW!" and you'll get even more points. Ca-ching! Ca-ching! Ca-ching! Can you hear the points racking up??? (+100 per compliment) Don't overdo it, though or we will stop believing you. 3 times per date is pretty good.
6. Regarding doors and their opening. Unfortunately, this is one of those things where Every Woman is Different. However, I would advise any unsure, single guy to continue opening all doors for her unless she tells you to stop or grabs the door first. That is her way of saying, "I appreciate your kindness, but this isn't 1886 and I can get my own door, thanks. In fact, how about I hold it for you, too?" Rare is the modern girl who would be grossly offended by your opening the door for her. So when in doubt, hold and open all doors: car, restaurant, building, etc. It's better to slightly offend a modern woman (-15 points) than to GREATLY offend an old-fashioned one (-25,000). Because as an old-fashioned woman, I can tell you it really ticks me off when I'm not even worth a door holding. It will blow the date, actually--dating privileges will be revoked. In fact, if the door is not held for me, I will patiently wait until it is. One guy was halfway to the restaurant table with the hostess before realizing I was still outside, waiting for the door. High maintenance? Maybe. But he was very embarrassed, let me tell you.*
* I would like the record to show that this is pretty much the only high-maintenance thing I do. Doors are a big deal to me. You don't have to take me shopping or drive a nice car to impress me. Just open the damn door. It's not that hard. And I'm sure I'm not the only girl who feels like this. Ladies, back me up.
Note: Feel free to stop holding doors open if she doesn't say "Thank you," each and every time. We should be polite, too.
Note: Here's a crazy notion! If you don't know if she would like the doors opened for her, ASK. (+25 points for caring enough to ask.) This is another part of that whole "Learning What She Likes" thing.
7. Keep in mind that women's bodies are not as warm as men's bodies. This has been scientifically proven. There's about an 8 degrees Fahrenheit difference between the sexes when it comes to "comfy". Women get cold very easily, so you will get points for asking her if she is hot/cold/comfortable when you're in the car or at the restaurant. This is called "being courteous." Guess what kind of guy we like to kiss. Ding! Ding! Ding! You got it. (+ 75)
8. Turn the music down when you're in the car. What's more important, her telling you something about herself or listening to "Panama City" for the 4,367th time? Don't you want to hear what she has to say? If not, then why are you on this date?? (+75)
9. Avoid introducing Crush Girl to your Inner Hulk. Deep breaths. No yelling at other drivers. We want to feel like we are out with gentlemen who are in control of themselves, not silverback gorillas who are proverbially beating their chests when their manhood is challenged. Also included in this category are temper tantrums, jealous behavior, etc. (Gorilla-like behavior: -500 per occurrence.)
10. Another one of your goals should be to make your date feel safe at all times. Guys don't think about it much, because they are big, strong, brave and know how to fix stuff, so they don't need to worry about these things. But girls are usually of a more fragile physical nature. A lot of us have no idea what to do when the tire goes flat or when a bird flies inside the house. And we live in constant fear that around the next corner is a mugger, waiting to rob us, rape us and slit our throat. That's why we all carry those little mace things on our keychains. It also plays a role in why we like muscles and tall men so much. Big and strong = safety. You can put your date at ease by reassuring her you can protect her in case of muggers/natural disasters/giant insects/Armageddon/scary things in general. (+5,000 for giving off the "you're safe with me!" vibe, with an extra bonus of 20,000 points if you actually end up protecting her from something truly dangerous. Unless it's a big bug, which only counts for 75 points per bug. If we have to call our fathers or brothers for help, because you are as useless as a little girl when a crisis arises, -25,000. If you carry a gun to work, I will give you + 10,000 bonus. But that's just me. Guns are hot.)
I remember I was on a date with a nice guy once. We were leaving a movie theater when a SUPER creepy guy walked up to us and asked to bum a cigarette. If I had been alone, I would have literally run away from the guy--he was that scary. So imagine my terror to find that not only was my date giving him a smoke, but he proceeded to sit and chat with him for about 5 minutes. Not only was he not quickly whisking me away from Mr. Creepy, he was exposing me to more Mr. Creepy time. That was the last time I went out with that guy. If a girl can't feel safe with you, you don't have anything.
Note: This does not give you license to get into fist fights over trivial matters while on the date. There's a difference between feeling like we are safe and feeling like we are babysitting. See #9, above. (Fist fight on a date = -25,000. In most cases, your dating privileges will also be revoked.)
Part 2 is tomorrow....
Comments? Criticism? Praise? Let's discuss.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Ten
Ok, so Burg tagged me. WOOT! I am excited because I like to tell myself you are all dying to know me better. Right? Because the 200 things in the side-bar over there just aren't enough.
My task? Tell you 10 "interesting" things about me. I say "interesting" with the little quotation marks because at this point, I am starting to run out of things to share (surprised?) and therefore, the quality of this post is questionable.
1. What does VB smell like? Well...it used to be Calvin Klein's "Truth". It is still my all-time favorite smell. I never got sick of it. Then they discontinued it. Now I usually wear Dolce & Gabbana's "Light Blue". I also just got a perfume from M.A.C. I don't think it has a name, but it's in a black plastic/glass bottle. It's really sexy and I love it. For work, I wear either Victoria's Secret "Pink" or Ralph Lauren's "Blue". I tend to like green scents, ironically.
2. What does my closet look like? I love to wear bright colors. It looks like a rainbow in there. Sure, I have my fair share of black and pastels, but give me a coral or teal colored shirt any day. I personally think that people who wear boring colors are usually boring people. Then again, I guess I'm biased.
3. I think there was some confusion in a recent post about my new running hobby. I can NOT run 4 miles, people. Good grief. That's more than a 5k, I think. I am hard-pressed to make it to two. And I am running like, 15-minute miles, anyway. I mean, some people walk that fast. It's really nothing to be impressed by, trust me. Four miles is my GOAL. As in, "Maybe sometime before my 30th birthday I will be able to run 4 miles once."
4. I think I am in the vicinity of 50 pairs of shoes at this point. The majority of them are 3" heels. I really need to take some pics of my shoes and share....note to self. I really can't go out at night unless I have heels on. It feels weird to me. The Czarina thinks it's ridiculous how many shoes I have.
5. I pride myself on having had no car accidents in 7 years, knock on wood. Unless you count the time a lady side-swiped me. It wasn't my fault, and I was in the far left lane in rush hour traffic, so there was no escape route for me, unless I wanted to head straight into oncoming traffic. She just basically decided to change lanes without looking and plowed into me. Her insurance company paid for all my repairs. Now that I have typed this, watch me wreck my car tomorrow!
6. I have a secret, hidden talent: I can draw. Actually, come to think of it, most of the people in my family have hidden artistic skills. WLF, Czarina, my older sister and my older brother can all draw, too. My older sister is also an excellent actress and a decent singer, although she's only done it for fun. Fat Dog can play any instrument he picks up. He and I are pretty decent violinists. What's funny is, none of us ever took these abilities seriously. We are not in these fields professionally. Never have been. Maybe we weren't willing to be starving artists.
7. I was kicked/trampled by a horse when I was five or six years old. I grew up on a farm, and although my dad was not a farmer, we did rent the land out to other local farmers who needed more space. We mostly had cattle, but for a while, when I was in kindergarten, we had some horses. At the time, I was Queen My Little Pony, so this just totally kicked ass. (Oh, that was a bad pun!!!) Before school one day, my friend and neighbor, Neal came over. I think Czarina was going to drive us both to school or something. Anyway, for some reason, Neal and I had time to kill, so we went over to pet the horses. Well, the horses had escaped and were roaming around everywhere, and Neal and I tried to get the horses back behind the fences--because 5 year-olds can persuade horses-- and were kicked/trampled in the process. We were fine. Just some bumps and bruises. Pretty scary, though. I bet this is why I'm such a wuss now. (I did do some horseback riding a few years later, and I really enjoyed it. So I'm not equinophobic or anything.)
8. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people (ie, roommates and family members) don't clean out the lint filter in the dryer after they are done using it. Since I am paranoid, I have to empty it out in order to prevent burning the house down. This irritates me so much that sometimes, if I'm in a really foul mood, they will go to bed at night and find their lint laid out on their pillow. Other peoples' lint is totally disgusting. I know I sound crazy, but that stuff just grosses me out for some reason. I think it's because it looks like dust to me, and dust is made up of skin cells that have flaked off our bodies. *shudders*
9. I have a semi-gross confession to make. I need to know if anyone else in the world does this, because I really wonder. If I boil pasta, I don't always wash the pot or the colander into which I drain the pasta. It's just not dirty enough for me to go to the hassle of cleaning it. Besides, I will probably just re-use the pot the next day for more pasta (I eat a lot of pasta). Since it dries out in-between uses (I will leave it sitting out on the stovetop), I figure there can't be any bacteria in it, right? I swear on all things holy I do not do this with any other food/cooking situation, and I would never do this if I had guests over. Guests get clean pots and colanders, promise. Am I weird? Ok, dumb question. Is this particular habit weird?
10. I have the following scars:
left elbow (bike accident on gravel driveway as a kid -- yeah, ouch is right),
back left shoulder blade (removed a mole as a kid--see "Six Weird Things" in sidebar for full story),
left shin (I was 7, trying to get away from a scary barking dog and I ran into a corner. There's a big chunk missing. Ew is right. I also have another one on my left shin from a verrrry bad shaving experience when I was in middle school.),
bottom lip (I was a baby, holding a bottle in my mouth, and I fell down. The bottle dug into my lip--the scar is shaped like a U),
my left eyebrow (WLF was babysitting me, but, being the oh-so-attentive-and-smart father that he was, he left me on the bed when he went to answer the phone, and I fell off the bed, hitting a table on the way down--Czarina never let him babysit me again. But the good news is, it ended up being right along the line where I now pluck my eyebrows, so I have a built-in guide!),
stomach (chicken pox)
left jaw, kinda under my ear (from playing violin all those years)
Ok, I just realized that the right side of my body has virtually no scarring. Weird.
Man, this was hard to do. By this point, I have revealed so much about myself. I will be surprised if anyone actually reads this.....aren't you sick of reading about me? I'm sick of talking about me. My next post will have to have some malicious gossip. Or something more philosophical. Oh wait, don't place your bets on that one. Better hold out for the gossip.
Now I have to tag 10 people, in keeping with this meme's theme.
Becky, Jennster, Behind the Curve, Phantom Hater because he never posts anything, Meghan because she and I were separated at birth apparently, Petra, Sam because I know it will be hysterically funny, TGOV, Joie and Teahouse.
My task? Tell you 10 "interesting" things about me. I say "interesting" with the little quotation marks because at this point, I am starting to run out of things to share (surprised?) and therefore, the quality of this post is questionable.
1. What does VB smell like? Well...it used to be Calvin Klein's "Truth". It is still my all-time favorite smell. I never got sick of it. Then they discontinued it. Now I usually wear Dolce & Gabbana's "Light Blue". I also just got a perfume from M.A.C. I don't think it has a name, but it's in a black plastic/glass bottle. It's really sexy and I love it. For work, I wear either Victoria's Secret "Pink" or Ralph Lauren's "Blue". I tend to like green scents, ironically.
2. What does my closet look like? I love to wear bright colors. It looks like a rainbow in there. Sure, I have my fair share of black and pastels, but give me a coral or teal colored shirt any day. I personally think that people who wear boring colors are usually boring people. Then again, I guess I'm biased.
3. I think there was some confusion in a recent post about my new running hobby. I can NOT run 4 miles, people. Good grief. That's more than a 5k, I think. I am hard-pressed to make it to two. And I am running like, 15-minute miles, anyway. I mean, some people walk that fast. It's really nothing to be impressed by, trust me. Four miles is my GOAL. As in, "Maybe sometime before my 30th birthday I will be able to run 4 miles once."
4. I think I am in the vicinity of 50 pairs of shoes at this point. The majority of them are 3" heels. I really need to take some pics of my shoes and share....note to self. I really can't go out at night unless I have heels on. It feels weird to me. The Czarina thinks it's ridiculous how many shoes I have.
5. I pride myself on having had no car accidents in 7 years, knock on wood. Unless you count the time a lady side-swiped me. It wasn't my fault, and I was in the far left lane in rush hour traffic, so there was no escape route for me, unless I wanted to head straight into oncoming traffic. She just basically decided to change lanes without looking and plowed into me. Her insurance company paid for all my repairs. Now that I have typed this, watch me wreck my car tomorrow!
6. I have a secret, hidden talent: I can draw. Actually, come to think of it, most of the people in my family have hidden artistic skills. WLF, Czarina, my older sister and my older brother can all draw, too. My older sister is also an excellent actress and a decent singer, although she's only done it for fun. Fat Dog can play any instrument he picks up. He and I are pretty decent violinists. What's funny is, none of us ever took these abilities seriously. We are not in these fields professionally. Never have been. Maybe we weren't willing to be starving artists.
7. I was kicked/trampled by a horse when I was five or six years old. I grew up on a farm, and although my dad was not a farmer, we did rent the land out to other local farmers who needed more space. We mostly had cattle, but for a while, when I was in kindergarten, we had some horses. At the time, I was Queen My Little Pony, so this just totally kicked ass. (Oh, that was a bad pun!!!) Before school one day, my friend and neighbor, Neal came over. I think Czarina was going to drive us both to school or something. Anyway, for some reason, Neal and I had time to kill, so we went over to pet the horses. Well, the horses had escaped and were roaming around everywhere, and Neal and I tried to get the horses back behind the fences--because 5 year-olds can persuade horses-- and were kicked/trampled in the process. We were fine. Just some bumps and bruises. Pretty scary, though. I bet this is why I'm such a wuss now. (I did do some horseback riding a few years later, and I really enjoyed it. So I'm not equinophobic or anything.)
8. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people (ie, roommates and family members) don't clean out the lint filter in the dryer after they are done using it. Since I am paranoid, I have to empty it out in order to prevent burning the house down. This irritates me so much that sometimes, if I'm in a really foul mood, they will go to bed at night and find their lint laid out on their pillow. Other peoples' lint is totally disgusting. I know I sound crazy, but that stuff just grosses me out for some reason. I think it's because it looks like dust to me, and dust is made up of skin cells that have flaked off our bodies. *shudders*
9. I have a semi-gross confession to make. I need to know if anyone else in the world does this, because I really wonder. If I boil pasta, I don't always wash the pot or the colander into which I drain the pasta. It's just not dirty enough for me to go to the hassle of cleaning it. Besides, I will probably just re-use the pot the next day for more pasta (I eat a lot of pasta). Since it dries out in-between uses (I will leave it sitting out on the stovetop), I figure there can't be any bacteria in it, right? I swear on all things holy I do not do this with any other food/cooking situation, and I would never do this if I had guests over. Guests get clean pots and colanders, promise. Am I weird? Ok, dumb question. Is this particular habit weird?
10. I have the following scars:
left elbow (bike accident on gravel driveway as a kid -- yeah, ouch is right),
back left shoulder blade (removed a mole as a kid--see "Six Weird Things" in sidebar for full story),
left shin (I was 7, trying to get away from a scary barking dog and I ran into a corner. There's a big chunk missing. Ew is right. I also have another one on my left shin from a verrrry bad shaving experience when I was in middle school.),
bottom lip (I was a baby, holding a bottle in my mouth, and I fell down. The bottle dug into my lip--the scar is shaped like a U),
my left eyebrow (WLF was babysitting me, but, being the oh-so-attentive-and-smart father that he was, he left me on the bed when he went to answer the phone, and I fell off the bed, hitting a table on the way down--Czarina never let him babysit me again. But the good news is, it ended up being right along the line where I now pluck my eyebrows, so I have a built-in guide!),
stomach (chicken pox)
left jaw, kinda under my ear (from playing violin all those years)
Ok, I just realized that the right side of my body has virtually no scarring. Weird.
Man, this was hard to do. By this point, I have revealed so much about myself. I will be surprised if anyone actually reads this.....aren't you sick of reading about me? I'm sick of talking about me. My next post will have to have some malicious gossip. Or something more philosophical. Oh wait, don't place your bets on that one. Better hold out for the gossip.
Now I have to tag 10 people, in keeping with this meme's theme.
Becky, Jennster, Behind the Curve, Phantom Hater because he never posts anything, Meghan because she and I were separated at birth apparently, Petra, Sam because I know it will be hysterically funny, TGOV, Joie and Teahouse.
People Are Strange
I'm not much of a Doors fan, but this song has been running through my mind today.
You know how much I hate Wal-Mart. Because of my deep hatred for this institution and its patrons, it is really irritating to be forced to shop there due to personal financial reasons (ie, I am now living alone). And it's even more irritating when you forget why you NEVER go to Wal-Mart on weekends, let alone during the day, only to arrive on a Sunday afternoon and be reminded instantly: Wal-Mart is Hell on Earth. Or at least a weekly convention of nasty people.
Alas, this was what I did last weekend. I bravely ventured into the insanity that is Wally World on a weekend. Too broke to shop at the regular grocery store and too lazy to drive halfway across town to go to Target, I decided to hit my local one-stop-shop, Wal-Mart. By the end of my trip, I was so tired of being stared at, cat-called and dealing with smelly and stupid and scary people, I was literally running through the store. Convinced I was going to be kidnapped and taken to Mexico, only to be gang-banged and forced to live out my life as a drug mule, I began to panic. I almost hit a guy in the frozen foods aisle as I wheeled around a corner in a panic-stricken sprint. I just wanted to GET OUT of the building by that point.
I wanted to go take a shower. I felt dirty. Wal-Mart grosses me out. Icky. I got into my car and slathered everything from my elbows to fingertips with hand sanitizer. Blech!!! No amount of money saved is worth it to me to ever go through that again. I will go back to my strict rule of going to Wal-Mart only when I run out of the things which MUST be purchased at Wal-Mart (my vitamins, my mascara, my favorite juice) and only during the week after the sun goes down.
There were more strange people in my weekend, though. I have ventured into Craig's List. I need a roommate and I have been thinking about selling Toby. (Not because he's a bad dog, but because I need the money.) So I placed some ads. It was very quick and easy, not to mention free, so I definitely had a good initial experience.
Then I started to get the emails in response to my ad for a roommate....
That's when I learned that people with overactive imaginations do not mix well with Craig's List.
One person used the word "rentage" (among other cringe-worthy English errors), as in, "What is the rentage?"
My imagination said, "This person is drunk or high as they are typing this, because the TITLE of the ad clearly states the 'rentage' of the room. You do not want to live with an addict. Or someone who doesn't have a firm grasp on English. Or reading comprehension. Next."
One person said they would be interested in renting the room because they will soon be moving to the area for job-related reasons. It all depends on how the "negotiations" go.
My imagination said, "Negotiations? What, like he's in the mob? And he's vying for the Vice Don position? Or he's attempting a hostile corporate takeover? Or he needs to see how his parole hearing goes? None of these people have any business living in your spare bedroom. Next."
One person wanted to know what form of payment I accept.
My imagination said, "Um....check or cash, just like everywhere else in America. Visa is not everywhere they need to be. Money orders, payday advances and stuff like that are also not going to work. Neither are payments in livestock or virgins or coconuts. Seriously, where are these people from? Neptune? I'm thinking this Craig's List thing was a bad idea. Wait, is it a guy who can fix stuff? Because fixing stuff can go towards rent. That's the only exception. Shit, if he's hot and wears a tool belt, he can pay half."
One guy was a "quiet" 57 year old man.
My imagination said, "Dude, I am not living with a 57 year old man. He's probably an ex-con or a convicted sexual predator who cannot find anywhere else to live, because no one wants to live with him. At the very least, he obviously has bad credit. And anyone who describes themselves as 'quiet' is either very loud or is hiding something very illegal. No way, Jose."
Another man wanted to make sure his privacy would be "expected".
My imagination said, "Dude, he wrote a whole paragraph about privacy. Not that I would be interested in going through a complete stranger's things anyway, but what exactly is he going to be doing in there that would require privacy so adamantly? That really freaks me out, because obviously, this guy grows marijuana plants. Or he films porn movies in his room. Or he is a serial rapist and needs a private place to store all the souvenirs from his crimes. Or he masturbates to Disney movies. Can we place a veto on criminals and porn directors, please? I mean, seriously. Why is your house so attractive to felons and perverts?"
*sigh*
So, needless to say, I have not found a suitable replacement yet. I don't know if I'm just freaked out by the idea of living with a TOTAL stranger, or if I really want to try and re-work my budget so I can live alone forever. Maybe get a PT job. Or at least hold out for a normal, single, younger-than-57 woman. Preferably a friend. Or someone who would end up being a friend. As opposed to someone who would want to re-enact Single White Female.
Some grad school students I emailed with sounded good, but none of them need a place until August. I do have one girlfriend who needs a place starting in July (perrrrrrfect!), but she doesn't know if she's going to keep her job or move. Argh.
Anyone have GOOD Craig's List experiences to share? Tips for weeding out potentially bad roommates? Or ideas for a solution to my problem? Hmmm...perhaps I should look into part-time work. What would be fun for the summer? Who will hire a young woman with an overactive imagination? Probably some weirdo....
You know how much I hate Wal-Mart. Because of my deep hatred for this institution and its patrons, it is really irritating to be forced to shop there due to personal financial reasons (ie, I am now living alone). And it's even more irritating when you forget why you NEVER go to Wal-Mart on weekends, let alone during the day, only to arrive on a Sunday afternoon and be reminded instantly: Wal-Mart is Hell on Earth. Or at least a weekly convention of nasty people.
Alas, this was what I did last weekend. I bravely ventured into the insanity that is Wally World on a weekend. Too broke to shop at the regular grocery store and too lazy to drive halfway across town to go to Target, I decided to hit my local one-stop-shop, Wal-Mart. By the end of my trip, I was so tired of being stared at, cat-called and dealing with smelly and stupid and scary people, I was literally running through the store. Convinced I was going to be kidnapped and taken to Mexico, only to be gang-banged and forced to live out my life as a drug mule, I began to panic. I almost hit a guy in the frozen foods aisle as I wheeled around a corner in a panic-stricken sprint. I just wanted to GET OUT of the building by that point.
I wanted to go take a shower. I felt dirty. Wal-Mart grosses me out. Icky. I got into my car and slathered everything from my elbows to fingertips with hand sanitizer. Blech!!! No amount of money saved is worth it to me to ever go through that again. I will go back to my strict rule of going to Wal-Mart only when I run out of the things which MUST be purchased at Wal-Mart (my vitamins, my mascara, my favorite juice) and only during the week after the sun goes down.
There were more strange people in my weekend, though. I have ventured into Craig's List. I need a roommate and I have been thinking about selling Toby. (Not because he's a bad dog, but because I need the money.) So I placed some ads. It was very quick and easy, not to mention free, so I definitely had a good initial experience.
Then I started to get the emails in response to my ad for a roommate....
That's when I learned that people with overactive imaginations do not mix well with Craig's List.
One person used the word "rentage" (among other cringe-worthy English errors), as in, "What is the rentage?"
My imagination said, "This person is drunk or high as they are typing this, because the TITLE of the ad clearly states the 'rentage' of the room. You do not want to live with an addict. Or someone who doesn't have a firm grasp on English. Or reading comprehension. Next."
One person said they would be interested in renting the room because they will soon be moving to the area for job-related reasons. It all depends on how the "negotiations" go.
My imagination said, "Negotiations? What, like he's in the mob? And he's vying for the Vice Don position? Or he's attempting a hostile corporate takeover? Or he needs to see how his parole hearing goes? None of these people have any business living in your spare bedroom. Next."
One person wanted to know what form of payment I accept.
My imagination said, "Um....check or cash, just like everywhere else in America. Visa is not everywhere they need to be. Money orders, payday advances and stuff like that are also not going to work. Neither are payments in livestock or virgins or coconuts. Seriously, where are these people from? Neptune? I'm thinking this Craig's List thing was a bad idea. Wait, is it a guy who can fix stuff? Because fixing stuff can go towards rent. That's the only exception. Shit, if he's hot and wears a tool belt, he can pay half."
One guy was a "quiet" 57 year old man.
My imagination said, "Dude, I am not living with a 57 year old man. He's probably an ex-con or a convicted sexual predator who cannot find anywhere else to live, because no one wants to live with him. At the very least, he obviously has bad credit. And anyone who describes themselves as 'quiet' is either very loud or is hiding something very illegal. No way, Jose."
Another man wanted to make sure his privacy would be "expected".
My imagination said, "Dude, he wrote a whole paragraph about privacy. Not that I would be interested in going through a complete stranger's things anyway, but what exactly is he going to be doing in there that would require privacy so adamantly? That really freaks me out, because obviously, this guy grows marijuana plants. Or he films porn movies in his room. Or he is a serial rapist and needs a private place to store all the souvenirs from his crimes. Or he masturbates to Disney movies. Can we place a veto on criminals and porn directors, please? I mean, seriously. Why is your house so attractive to felons and perverts?"
*sigh*
So, needless to say, I have not found a suitable replacement yet. I don't know if I'm just freaked out by the idea of living with a TOTAL stranger, or if I really want to try and re-work my budget so I can live alone forever. Maybe get a PT job. Or at least hold out for a normal, single, younger-than-57 woman. Preferably a friend. Or someone who would end up being a friend. As opposed to someone who would want to re-enact Single White Female.
Some grad school students I emailed with sounded good, but none of them need a place until August. I do have one girlfriend who needs a place starting in July (perrrrrrfect!), but she doesn't know if she's going to keep her job or move. Argh.
Anyone have GOOD Craig's List experiences to share? Tips for weeding out potentially bad roommates? Or ideas for a solution to my problem? Hmmm...perhaps I should look into part-time work. What would be fun for the summer? Who will hire a young woman with an overactive imagination? Probably some weirdo....
Friday, April 20, 2007
Have Fun Living Alone!
OMG, you guys. TGIF. That's all I can say right now.
Soon, I will be living alone for the first time in 3 years. WOOT! And let me tell ya, I'm excited. I have made this list of fun things you can do ONLY if you are a single woman who lives alone*:
1. Eat ice cream for breakfast. Topless.
2. Stay in your pjs until 3pm, complete with unbrushed teeth and dirty hair. (Ok, you could do this if you lived with people, but they would probably think you are weird.)
3. Make the executive decision to stop shaving your legs for 2 weeks.
4. Walk around topless. With the blinds open. (Oops! Sorry, Hot Neighbor!)
5. Do your ironing in your underwear. (WHY do I enjoy doing that so much???)
6. Watch soft porn in the living room.
7. Sleep naked and then spread eagle on the bed without getting jabbed in the ribcage for hogging it.
8. Designate an extra room as "The Junk Room" and put whatever is bugging you in there. That way, your house is perpetually and inexplicably tidy. Little do your houseguests know....
9. Or you could designate the room "The Dressing Room" or "The Party Room" or "The Girly Girl Room" or whatever the hell you want.
10. You can paint your bathroom Kool-Aid purple. Btw, yes, Virginia, you can paint it in your underwear.
11. Talk on the phone very loudly and for as long as you like. No censoring necessary. Snorting laughter optional.
12. Bring home hotties. (Not that I have much luck in this department...) Make them breakfast in the morning. No whispering required, unless it's naughty little things in his ear.
13. Never wait in line for the washer/dryer. Or remove other people's lint from the dryer vent. (UGH one of my biggest pet peeves EVER.)
14. Never worry that someone is hogging all the hot water. Or the driveway.
15. Dance around your living room to Britney Spears/Hilary Duff/some other bubblegum singer you favor, although you'd never admit it publicly. Nakedness is optional.
16. Let the dirty dishes pile up, the dust collect on the shelves and the smudges cover the surfaces. It's only your dirt. No one else has to see it.
17. Cook that dish your roommate would have hated, and really enjoy it. Or, cook that dish your roommate loved, and don't worry about having to share it.
18. Come home the day after a night of partying. No one questioning you about it.
19. Go to bed at 8pm. Wake up at 4pm. Or 3am. Or go to bed at midnight. It's all the same when you live alone. It only has to be quiet if YOU say it has to be quiet. *wink*
20. Go ahead and light that 18th candle. No one is there to make Wiccan ritual jokes about you. (I like to light a ton of candles at the same time! Sue me!)
21. Spend an entire Sunday afternoon watching Nip/Tuck.
Can you think of any more??? Tee hee this is fun! I can't wait for May 1st! Alone at last! I didn't realize how much I missed not wearing pants. I hereby designate May as "Naked VB Month"!
*and yes, I will be doing most of these, thankyouverymuch. As soon as I find some porn.
Soon, I will be living alone for the first time in 3 years. WOOT! And let me tell ya, I'm excited. I have made this list of fun things you can do ONLY if you are a single woman who lives alone*:
1. Eat ice cream for breakfast. Topless.
2. Stay in your pjs until 3pm, complete with unbrushed teeth and dirty hair. (Ok, you could do this if you lived with people, but they would probably think you are weird.)
3. Make the executive decision to stop shaving your legs for 2 weeks.
4. Walk around topless. With the blinds open. (Oops! Sorry, Hot Neighbor!)
5. Do your ironing in your underwear. (WHY do I enjoy doing that so much???)
6. Watch soft porn in the living room.
7. Sleep naked and then spread eagle on the bed without getting jabbed in the ribcage for hogging it.
8. Designate an extra room as "The Junk Room" and put whatever is bugging you in there. That way, your house is perpetually and inexplicably tidy. Little do your houseguests know....
9. Or you could designate the room "The Dressing Room" or "The Party Room" or "The Girly Girl Room" or whatever the hell you want.
10. You can paint your bathroom Kool-Aid purple. Btw, yes, Virginia, you can paint it in your underwear.
11. Talk on the phone very loudly and for as long as you like. No censoring necessary. Snorting laughter optional.
12. Bring home hotties. (Not that I have much luck in this department...) Make them breakfast in the morning. No whispering required, unless it's naughty little things in his ear.
13. Never wait in line for the washer/dryer. Or remove other people's lint from the dryer vent. (UGH one of my biggest pet peeves EVER.)
14. Never worry that someone is hogging all the hot water. Or the driveway.
15. Dance around your living room to Britney Spears/Hilary Duff/some other bubblegum singer you favor, although you'd never admit it publicly. Nakedness is optional.
16. Let the dirty dishes pile up, the dust collect on the shelves and the smudges cover the surfaces. It's only your dirt. No one else has to see it.
17. Cook that dish your roommate would have hated, and really enjoy it. Or, cook that dish your roommate loved, and don't worry about having to share it.
18. Come home the day after a night of partying. No one questioning you about it.
19. Go to bed at 8pm. Wake up at 4pm. Or 3am. Or go to bed at midnight. It's all the same when you live alone. It only has to be quiet if YOU say it has to be quiet. *wink*
20. Go ahead and light that 18th candle. No one is there to make Wiccan ritual jokes about you. (I like to light a ton of candles at the same time! Sue me!)
21. Spend an entire Sunday afternoon watching Nip/Tuck.
Can you think of any more??? Tee hee this is fun! I can't wait for May 1st! Alone at last! I didn't realize how much I missed not wearing pants. I hereby designate May as "Naked VB Month"!
*and yes, I will be doing most of these, thankyouverymuch. As soon as I find some porn.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Guess What???!!
No, I don't have Hot Neighbor news. Other than he's hot and I want him. Plus, I saw him half nekkid the other day. Mmmm...I am still savoring that.
Instead, I have DOG news!!! I am getting a 2nd dog. Ok, I have only 15 minutes to type this post, so here goes.
I have been looking for Boston Terrier #2 for several months. Since they are $300 from the breed rescue organization, I figured I'd just save up my money or get a part-Boston Terrier mutt.
Well, lo and behold, I am browsing the web the other day when I see: Purebred Boston Terrier, aged 3, for $73, in a shelter in Tennessee. It's a KILL shelter. So If I didn't act fast, the dog was going to be put down. With tears in my eyes, I called the shelter.
"Don't put him down! I want him!" I pleaded.
They said ok, and gave me directions to the shelter. I said I'd be there on Saturday (tomorrow).
Ten minutes later, they called me back, "We're sorry. We promised the dog to someone else this morning."
"Oh, that's ok," I said, my heart breaking. "I just didn't want him to be put down. Please call me if you ever get another Boston."
They said ok. I was disappointed, but happy the dog was adopted.
This morning, I got an email from the shelter. They misunderstood the person who was getting the dog. The good Samaritan only wanted to PAY for the dog's adoption fee ($73) so that it would not be put down. They didn't actually want to keep the dog.
So now, the dog was still available AND free. Wow. The exact dog I want, for FREE? No brainer decision. So tomorrow, I'll be on the road, driving up to get my new dog!!!!
He's just like Sammy-- same breed, same age, same gender. His name is Tyson, but due to the prize fighter/chicken company connotations of that name, I think I will change it to Toby. I love that for a dog name. And yes, I'm violating my own pet peeve AGAIN. Oh well. The first thing I'm doing is getting him neutered next week. Hopefully he and Sammy will get along until then, despite the fact that everything I've read says that having one intact dog and one fixed dog = problems. As usual, balls are complicating my life. Go figure.
Wish me luck! I have 8 hours of driving (4 hours each way) tomorrow in my POS car. Then I have to hope and pray that the two dogs get along. I think they will. Sammy likes everyone.
Oh, and here's a picture of him. Now I have TWO!!!!
Instead, I have DOG news!!! I am getting a 2nd dog. Ok, I have only 15 minutes to type this post, so here goes.
I have been looking for Boston Terrier #2 for several months. Since they are $300 from the breed rescue organization, I figured I'd just save up my money or get a part-Boston Terrier mutt.
Well, lo and behold, I am browsing the web the other day when I see: Purebred Boston Terrier, aged 3, for $73, in a shelter in Tennessee. It's a KILL shelter. So If I didn't act fast, the dog was going to be put down. With tears in my eyes, I called the shelter.
"Don't put him down! I want him!" I pleaded.
They said ok, and gave me directions to the shelter. I said I'd be there on Saturday (tomorrow).
Ten minutes later, they called me back, "We're sorry. We promised the dog to someone else this morning."
"Oh, that's ok," I said, my heart breaking. "I just didn't want him to be put down. Please call me if you ever get another Boston."
They said ok. I was disappointed, but happy the dog was adopted.
This morning, I got an email from the shelter. They misunderstood the person who was getting the dog. The good Samaritan only wanted to PAY for the dog's adoption fee ($73) so that it would not be put down. They didn't actually want to keep the dog.
So now, the dog was still available AND free. Wow. The exact dog I want, for FREE? No brainer decision. So tomorrow, I'll be on the road, driving up to get my new dog!!!!
He's just like Sammy-- same breed, same age, same gender. His name is Tyson, but due to the prize fighter/chicken company connotations of that name, I think I will change it to Toby. I love that for a dog name. And yes, I'm violating my own pet peeve AGAIN. Oh well. The first thing I'm doing is getting him neutered next week. Hopefully he and Sammy will get along until then, despite the fact that everything I've read says that having one intact dog and one fixed dog = problems. As usual, balls are complicating my life. Go figure.
Wish me luck! I have 8 hours of driving (4 hours each way) tomorrow in my POS car. Then I have to hope and pray that the two dogs get along. I think they will. Sammy likes everyone.
Oh, and here's a picture of him. Now I have TWO!!!!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Dummy, Chummy and Yummy, Part 1
Ha ha, look at me with my clever post title! Before I explain it, let's get the business out of the way first.
Netflix is the new myspace. I think I spent 2 hours on there yesterday. I added a bunch of classics (mostly Alfred Hitchcock and Audrey Hepburn stuff), then I went over and added a bunch of dramas, some Saturday Night Live, some 80s movies I've never seen, some Disney movies I haven't seen since I was a kid (Alice in Wonderland, Robin Hood, Lady and the Tramp, Pollyanna, Fox & the Hound)....and then I discovered the documentaries section.
I completely geeked out: British monarchs, orphan trains, China, history of Chicago, Thomas Jefferson, the Shakers, something called The Human Face, babies in utero, a look at higher education in America, Russia, a 3-volume look at the life of birds......I am out of control, people. I had to stop once I got to all the David Attenborough Nature programs. I am crazy about those.
And I wondered why I ate lunch with my teacher when I was in 8th grade. I am Dorkus Maximus.
I have stalled out on my weight loss at 13 pounds. I have been kinda bad the past few days (hell-o, chocolate-covered buttercream easter eggs, brought in by my boss!!!)....BUT the good news is, since MJ is quitting smoking, I will too. Not only am I wanting to support her, but I really need to quit. For real. Forever. Why not now? It's a bad nasty habit that doesn't mesh well with the following:
A) I am trying to lose weight
B) I like going to the gym and giving the impression that I am health-conscious
C) WLF died of COPD
D) 2 of my grandparents died of lung cancer
E) I like having white teeth and smelling yummy
So no cigarettes = more exercise. No cigarettes for a long time = I can pick up jogging again. (I'd like to say "running", but let's not fool ourselves now, ok? A runner I am not. I run like a girl, which makes it hard to take me seriously as a runner. Let's go with "jog".) Whatever you call it, I like it a lot and it really helps me get in shape. Gives you that long, lean look, you know? Ok, so that is my mid-term goal. After the quitting of the smoking.
Enough boring stuff. Let's get to the real reason we are all here: To discuss my Dating Adventures.
Or, in this case, my incredible ability to chicken out on potential Dating Adventures.
You see, readers, I could have gotten laid this weekend. Not once, but twice. True to form, that didn't happen.
Friday night was spent as usual with the Happy Hour Girls. The cute guy I met a couple weeks ago wasn't there. But a different group of guys was there. They are friends with one of the HH Girls. One of these guys was visiting from out of town. "Hey, who's the meathead?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "Oh, that's so-and-so's friend. He's from New Jersey," my girlfriend replied. "Oh jeeeeeeezus. That's great. He looks smart," I said sarcastically. I was glad he was on the outskirts of the group so I didn't have to talk to him-- I know the Ken-doll type. They think money impresses women, and between that and the gym, they rarely talk about much else.
Ten minutes later, my suspicions were confirmed. The meathead had worked his way through my group of friends, catching up and laughing with them. He hadn't met me yet, so he introduced himself. He seemed nice, he wasn't bad-looking. Fantastic body. But that was about it for the positives. I was hoping he'd go away, but as my luck may have it, he decided I was the evening's target female. Grrrrrreat.
True to form, he proceeded to talk about the gym and his car and his hot tub. He was nice enough, but I've met cardboard boxes with more personality. No sense of humor, nothing interesting to say. Doesn't read, doesn't travel, doesn't seem to have much life experience. "Yeah, when I've got some down time, I like to just hit the gym and jack some steel," he told me.
"Did you just say, 'jack some steel'?" I asked, stifling a giggle.
"Yeah. You know, lifting weights?" he answered.
"Yeah, I figured it out. I'm calling you Jack Steel now," I said.
He wasn't doing too badly as the evening progressed (we both love the HBO show Rome, so I dragged that conversation out to a full 15 minutes), until he made a fatal mistake: He pronounced my job title as, "lie-berry-un". I realize this is nit-picky and possibly even snooty, but it is one of my biggest pet peeves. Now I was certain that this guy not only had no personality, but he was also dumb as a box of rocks.
At this stage, I'm thinking, "Ok, it's official. This guy is only good for a hookup. There is no way in h-e-double hockey sticks I could ever date someone so freaking stupid. He's so lame, actually, I don't even know if I could hook up with him. He would not even be allowed to talk in the bedroom. Did he leave his sense of humor in his super-cool car?"
Of course, this is when he started hitting on me, hard core. As we were standing at the bar, he started to try and dance with me and touch me. "Whoa, easy tiger," I said to him, as I pulled away from his smokin' hot body (Ok, so I'll admit, all the steel jacking was paying off...). I told him I'm not big on PDA.
Just then, his drunk friend across town called and needed a ride. He had to go. Since I was still on the fence, I gave him my number. He wanted to know why I couldn't just go with him. "Um, I need to shave my legs. Badly," I said. I was not making it up-- I really did need to take care of my Sasquatch issues. (Isn't this always the way it works, ladies?)
So I told him to call me when he was done hanging out with his friend. Maybe by then I'd shave my legs and be ready. Which was good, because I needed some time to think about whether or not I really wanted to hook up with him or not. As I drove home, I went through a pro/con list: I I am in a dry spell....and I have needs...but, on the other hand, he's such a chore to talk to, and I'd want to kick him out afterwards...he's got a hot body....but he's so stupid....it's getting late...argh.
By the time I was done shaving my legs, I was still on the fence. It was 3am, and I was tired. I went to bed, figuring if he called and was willing to come over, that would be ok. If not, eh. No biggie. He called at 3:30. I was too tired. I said, "Rain check?" and he said that would be fine. There was always Saturday night.
Netflix is the new myspace. I think I spent 2 hours on there yesterday. I added a bunch of classics (mostly Alfred Hitchcock and Audrey Hepburn stuff), then I went over and added a bunch of dramas, some Saturday Night Live, some 80s movies I've never seen, some Disney movies I haven't seen since I was a kid (Alice in Wonderland, Robin Hood, Lady and the Tramp, Pollyanna, Fox & the Hound)....and then I discovered the documentaries section.
I completely geeked out: British monarchs, orphan trains, China, history of Chicago, Thomas Jefferson, the Shakers, something called The Human Face, babies in utero, a look at higher education in America, Russia, a 3-volume look at the life of birds......I am out of control, people. I had to stop once I got to all the David Attenborough Nature programs. I am crazy about those.
And I wondered why I ate lunch with my teacher when I was in 8th grade. I am Dorkus Maximus.
I have stalled out on my weight loss at 13 pounds. I have been kinda bad the past few days (hell-o, chocolate-covered buttercream easter eggs, brought in by my boss!!!)....BUT the good news is, since MJ is quitting smoking, I will too. Not only am I wanting to support her, but I really need to quit. For real. Forever. Why not now? It's a bad nasty habit that doesn't mesh well with the following:
A) I am trying to lose weight
B) I like going to the gym and giving the impression that I am health-conscious
C) WLF died of COPD
D) 2 of my grandparents died of lung cancer
E) I like having white teeth and smelling yummy
So no cigarettes = more exercise. No cigarettes for a long time = I can pick up jogging again. (I'd like to say "running", but let's not fool ourselves now, ok? A runner I am not. I run like a girl, which makes it hard to take me seriously as a runner. Let's go with "jog".) Whatever you call it, I like it a lot and it really helps me get in shape. Gives you that long, lean look, you know? Ok, so that is my mid-term goal. After the quitting of the smoking.
Enough boring stuff. Let's get to the real reason we are all here: To discuss my Dating Adventures.
Or, in this case, my incredible ability to chicken out on potential Dating Adventures.
You see, readers, I could have gotten laid this weekend. Not once, but twice. True to form, that didn't happen.
Friday night was spent as usual with the Happy Hour Girls. The cute guy I met a couple weeks ago wasn't there. But a different group of guys was there. They are friends with one of the HH Girls. One of these guys was visiting from out of town. "Hey, who's the meathead?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "Oh, that's so-and-so's friend. He's from New Jersey," my girlfriend replied. "Oh jeeeeeeezus. That's great. He looks smart," I said sarcastically. I was glad he was on the outskirts of the group so I didn't have to talk to him-- I know the Ken-doll type. They think money impresses women, and between that and the gym, they rarely talk about much else.
Ten minutes later, my suspicions were confirmed. The meathead had worked his way through my group of friends, catching up and laughing with them. He hadn't met me yet, so he introduced himself. He seemed nice, he wasn't bad-looking. Fantastic body. But that was about it for the positives. I was hoping he'd go away, but as my luck may have it, he decided I was the evening's target female. Grrrrrreat.
True to form, he proceeded to talk about the gym and his car and his hot tub. He was nice enough, but I've met cardboard boxes with more personality. No sense of humor, nothing interesting to say. Doesn't read, doesn't travel, doesn't seem to have much life experience. "Yeah, when I've got some down time, I like to just hit the gym and jack some steel," he told me.
"Did you just say, 'jack some steel'?" I asked, stifling a giggle.
"Yeah. You know, lifting weights?" he answered.
"Yeah, I figured it out. I'm calling you Jack Steel now," I said.
He wasn't doing too badly as the evening progressed (we both love the HBO show Rome, so I dragged that conversation out to a full 15 minutes), until he made a fatal mistake: He pronounced my job title as, "lie-berry-un". I realize this is nit-picky and possibly even snooty, but it is one of my biggest pet peeves. Now I was certain that this guy not only had no personality, but he was also dumb as a box of rocks.
At this stage, I'm thinking, "Ok, it's official. This guy is only good for a hookup. There is no way in h-e-double hockey sticks I could ever date someone so freaking stupid. He's so lame, actually, I don't even know if I could hook up with him. He would not even be allowed to talk in the bedroom. Did he leave his sense of humor in his super-cool car?"
Of course, this is when he started hitting on me, hard core. As we were standing at the bar, he started to try and dance with me and touch me. "Whoa, easy tiger," I said to him, as I pulled away from his smokin' hot body (Ok, so I'll admit, all the steel jacking was paying off...). I told him I'm not big on PDA.
Just then, his drunk friend across town called and needed a ride. He had to go. Since I was still on the fence, I gave him my number. He wanted to know why I couldn't just go with him. "Um, I need to shave my legs. Badly," I said. I was not making it up-- I really did need to take care of my Sasquatch issues. (Isn't this always the way it works, ladies?)
So I told him to call me when he was done hanging out with his friend. Maybe by then I'd shave my legs and be ready. Which was good, because I needed some time to think about whether or not I really wanted to hook up with him or not. As I drove home, I went through a pro/con list: I I am in a dry spell....and I have needs...but, on the other hand, he's such a chore to talk to, and I'd want to kick him out afterwards...he's got a hot body....but he's so stupid....it's getting late...argh.
By the time I was done shaving my legs, I was still on the fence. It was 3am, and I was tired. I went to bed, figuring if he called and was willing to come over, that would be ok. If not, eh. No biggie. He called at 3:30. I was too tired. I said, "Rain check?" and he said that would be fine. There was always Saturday night.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Intersection
It's happened. I have been tagged by Vixen to do a meme. The same meme I just did recently on myspace. So for those of you who have already read this, you get to play hooky today. This is apparently the intersection of Blogger Avenue and myspace Street, in case anyone is lost.
This came at a good time, as I had major writer's block today. Nothing was gelling. Who wants to read another random tidbit post, anyway? *silence* I thought so.
Here goes. But if I encounter a stupid question, I will replace it with a cooler one. So actually, this would be new to everyone.
What is your salad dressing of choice?
Ken's Steak House Light Caesar. MMM. or that Ginger dressing at Japanese restaurants.
What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
Wendy's or Chik-fil-a. (Or, as I like to call it, "Chick-to-tha-fizzle-ill-ay")
What is your favorite sit down restaurant?
Ok, I'm sure no one really cares about this, so I will instead substitute this with a random thought from my brain: The last movie I watched was Adventures in Babysitting.
On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant?
Again, I'm sure you don't care. How about: If you could have one superpower, what would it be? I would pick the ability to be invisible. Then I could play jokes on people. And listen in on conversations I wouldn't normally get to hear. Although, having the ability to read people's minds would be good, too.
What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?
Ice cream. Candy. Fried chicken. Cheese.
I wish I could say the same for salad. I eat about 2 per year. I hate salad.
What are your pizza toppings of choice?
Anything but sausage, olives, pineapple or anchovies.
What do you like to put on your toast?
Don't really like toast.
What is your favorite type of gum?
Ok, if you really want to know this, email me. Otherwise, I will substitute a cooler bit of information: One day, I want to get into gardening.
**TECHNOLOGY**
Number of contacts in your cell phone? I have no idea. It's pretty much everyone I know, including my favorite pizza place (for those spur-of-the-moment pizza cravings when you are stuck in traffic--seriously, this has happened to me!), the kennel for my dog, my old boss, 4 ex-boyfriends, an in-case-of-emergency-booty-call-only guy*, my hairdresser, a few people I don't even talk to anymore, some people I am sure have moved by now, the movie theaters I like to go to, Repo's mom**, Lady Starfish's work number, and the emergency line for my car insurance.
*Um, yeah, he's really hot. And every time I go to call, I chicken out. Actually, I think he moved, too. He used to go to my gym. I need to start looking for him...but you see, he "doesn't date" he "only hooks up". Dang. Hence, the booty-call-only status.
**Totally forgot I had that number. I will keep it in case I need to blackmail him at some point. Hee hee hee...
Number of contacts in your email address book?
Unlike Vixen, I am sure mine is much less than 431. Apparently, she emails everyone in America. I try to stick to east of the Mississippi, with a few Californians thrown in. But I will say that I have 4 email addresses.
What is your wallpaper on your computer?
what else?-- Sammy. But, if I were brave enough to snap photos of hot guys working out at my gym, it would be that.
What is your screensaver on your computer?
I can never find one I like, so right now, none.
How many televisions are in your house?
Substitute answer: Have I told you guys that I am almost killed every day? Yeah. The road I drive on to get to work appears to be a magnet for pscyho drivers. I am not kidding. It is a life or death situation every time I drive to/from work.
What kitchen appliance do you use the least?
The toaster--see above.
What is the radio station you listen to the most?
Whatever the R&B or rap stations are. But I will pop over to the classic rock station on occassion. And the pop station. But usually, I listen to CDs. (I am the only American without an ipod. Trust me, I know.)
**BIOLOGY**
What do you consider to be your best physical attribute?
my boobs. Or my lips. I'm pretty happy in those departments.
Are you right handed or left handed?
Left. Did you know I can probably recite Office Space, Gone with the Wind and Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail?
Do you like your smile?
Yes. True to form, Czarina tells me it is "too much". But I get compliments, so...
Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
Blood. Teeth. One chunk of skin. (Sorry, gross, I know.) Two moles. Splinters. Wait, does that count?
Would you like to have something removed from your body?
My ass. Yeah, pretty much all of it. Or at least the cellulite.
Do you prefer to read when you go to the bathroom?
Do you care? How about this instead: I have recently lost my favorite lip gloss. And this is bugging the shit out of me because I never lose things, especially items in my precious makeup collection. And it was a limited-edition color. Pisser.
Which of your five senses do you think is keenest?
Uh...I would say smell, I suppose. I am actually concerned with my hearing. I think I may have damaged it somewhat and I will be deaf when I am old.
When was the last time you had a cavity?
I just had my first one the last time I went. And they didn't file the filling down properly, and so it hurts to eat on the right side of my mouth. But I've already had them adjust it twice, and I don't want to keep going in because they will think I'm insane, so now I just chew on the left side.
What is the heaviest item you lift regularly?
My boobs. Ok, I am just kidding. K would say my purse, because I am like an old lady and carry everything but the kitchen sink in it. Do not be surprised if you see me pull the following things out of my purse: an orange, nail polish, an eyelash curler, a can of diet coke, dental floss, a bottle of Excedrin, a magazine, 8 lip glosses, a copy of my resume, trash from my car, a styrofoam cup, plastic silverware or my cell charger. Lord help me if I'm ever a mother.
Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
Yeah. But you should'a seen the other girl. Kidding. No, but I am a fainter. I have the ability to faint easily. However, it is not fun, as when I wake up, I want to barf and I have a headache. So I have learned how to control it. I haven't fainted in about 5 years. Now I am more likely to barf. I am a barfer.
**A bunch of stuff-OLOGY**
If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
No, because I would change how I live and act. And that is messed up. I would just be crying all the time. Who wants to live like that. However, I would like to know one thing: If I am ever getting married, have I already met him? Or not? (I actually wonder about this all the time.)
If you could change your first name, what would you change it to?
Something that people would never, ever name their dogs. (My real name is a very popular dog name, and I really hate that.)
How do you express your artistic side?
When did I get one of those??? I can draw decently. Every once in a while, I have a crafty moment and I will make something. But that's it. I express myself verbally so much that I guess I'm all expressed out by the time the crayons are placed in front of me.
What color do you think you look best in?
Pink. But do you really want to know that? Wouldn't you rather know that my first celebrity crush was Mark Wahlberg, back when he was still Marky Mark of Funky Bunch claim?
How long do you think you could last in a medium security prison?
I am a complete wuss. I would be dead meat, hands down. It would be like watching Private Benjamin, only the setting would be a prison. Instead of camo, I would be wearing an orange jump suit.
Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake?
"Yes. On purpose. Many times."--ok, that was Vixen's answer, and it was so good, that I have to just leave it there. Like I told her, I wish I'd thought of it first.
I did swallow a bug once. I was flapping my big mouth (surprise, surprise) and it flew in. I was so surprised, I gulped instinctively. Ew.
If we werent bound by society's conventions, do you have a relative you would make a pass at?
Ok, who is the sick f--k who wrote this survey? No. But under these circumstances, I would make a pass at a couple of DILFs I've met....
How often do you go to church?
Um...not at all lately. I could make up a lame excuse, but I won't. Guess I have a first-class ticket to hell. Then again, if I'm going anyway, I might as well go out with a bang. Good thing I kept Mr. HookUp's number.
Have you ever saved someones life?
I don't think so....unless I was driving and I braked just in the nick of time or something. Wouldn't it be cool if saved a hot guy's life, and he had to follow me around until he got an opportunity to save mine? Like in the movies. I would immediately become this OSHA-level safe person, so he would have to live with me forever. Then he would have to go to dinner with me all the time--I could choke, you know. And, it would probably be a good idea for him to bunk in bed with me, just in case I am bit by a poisonous spider in my sleep. Right?
Has someone ever saved yours?
Not in any dramatic, memorable way, no. But I'm sure someone blocked me from walking out into oncoming traffic at some point. Czarina was good at that.
**DARE-OLOGY**
Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000?
Actually, I think I would do this. I don't know how many people would want to watch, though. I certainly have a lot of "wobbly bits" I don't want most people seeing.
Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
Everyone keeps nagging me to try it anyway. I guess getting paid for it would make it that much easier.
Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000?
Can I die from that? How much would it impede my daily living? Clearly, I need more information.
Would you never blog again for $50,000?
That would suck, but I would do it. Before this started, talking on the phone with Lady Starfish was my blogging.
Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
This might not make sense, but there is no amount of money that would ever get me to do this. It's too close to being a hooker/stripper in my book. Not exactly something I want on my resume. Plus, during the photoshoot, I would have one thought running through my head: Soon, teenage boys will be sneaking into their dads' rooms to find this under the mattress so they can jerk off to my photo. Ew.
Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
I'd probably do this one, too. It would pay off a lot of my Visa.
Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
I don't know about this one. I think the guilt would take all the fun out of it for me. Then, I would live my life in fear of karma's revenge....so, negative to this offer.
Would you shave your head and get your entire body waxed for $5,000?
No way, Jose. Unless I was doing it to support Anne. :)
Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000?
Yeah. I'm a librarian. I should read more. Besides, that much money would mean I would have ZERO debt. Wow. Super thought.
Now who to tag with this? I guess just do it if you want to. But if you do, tell me so I can come read it!
This came at a good time, as I had major writer's block today. Nothing was gelling. Who wants to read another random tidbit post, anyway? *silence* I thought so.
Here goes. But if I encounter a stupid question, I will replace it with a cooler one. So actually, this would be new to everyone.
Random Questions
***FOOD***
What is your salad dressing of choice?
Ken's Steak House Light Caesar. MMM. or that Ginger dressing at Japanese restaurants.
What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
Wendy's or Chik-fil-a. (Or, as I like to call it, "Chick-to-tha-fizzle-ill-ay")
What is your favorite sit down restaurant?
Ok, I'm sure no one really cares about this, so I will instead substitute this with a random thought from my brain: The last movie I watched was Adventures in Babysitting.
On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant?
Again, I'm sure you don't care. How about: If you could have one superpower, what would it be? I would pick the ability to be invisible. Then I could play jokes on people. And listen in on conversations I wouldn't normally get to hear. Although, having the ability to read people's minds would be good, too.
What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?
Ice cream. Candy. Fried chicken. Cheese.
I wish I could say the same for salad. I eat about 2 per year. I hate salad.
What are your pizza toppings of choice?
Anything but sausage, olives, pineapple or anchovies.
What do you like to put on your toast?
Don't really like toast.
What is your favorite type of gum?
Ok, if you really want to know this, email me. Otherwise, I will substitute a cooler bit of information: One day, I want to get into gardening.
**TECHNOLOGY**
Number of contacts in your cell phone? I have no idea. It's pretty much everyone I know, including my favorite pizza place (for those spur-of-the-moment pizza cravings when you are stuck in traffic--seriously, this has happened to me!), the kennel for my dog, my old boss, 4 ex-boyfriends, an in-case-of-emergency-booty-call-only guy*, my hairdresser, a few people I don't even talk to anymore, some people I am sure have moved by now, the movie theaters I like to go to, Repo's mom**, Lady Starfish's work number, and the emergency line for my car insurance.
*Um, yeah, he's really hot. And every time I go to call, I chicken out. Actually, I think he moved, too. He used to go to my gym. I need to start looking for him...but you see, he "doesn't date" he "only hooks up". Dang. Hence, the booty-call-only status.
**Totally forgot I had that number. I will keep it in case I need to blackmail him at some point. Hee hee hee...
Number of contacts in your email address book?
Unlike Vixen, I am sure mine is much less than 431. Apparently, she emails everyone in America. I try to stick to east of the Mississippi, with a few Californians thrown in. But I will say that I have 4 email addresses.
What is your wallpaper on your computer?
what else?-- Sammy. But, if I were brave enough to snap photos of hot guys working out at my gym, it would be that.
What is your screensaver on your computer?
I can never find one I like, so right now, none.
How many televisions are in your house?
Substitute answer: Have I told you guys that I am almost killed every day? Yeah. The road I drive on to get to work appears to be a magnet for pscyho drivers. I am not kidding. It is a life or death situation every time I drive to/from work.
What kitchen appliance do you use the least?
The toaster--see above.
What is the radio station you listen to the most?
Whatever the R&B or rap stations are. But I will pop over to the classic rock station on occassion. And the pop station. But usually, I listen to CDs. (I am the only American without an ipod. Trust me, I know.)
**BIOLOGY**
What do you consider to be your best physical attribute?
my boobs. Or my lips. I'm pretty happy in those departments.
Are you right handed or left handed?
Left. Did you know I can probably recite Office Space, Gone with the Wind and Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail?
Do you like your smile?
Yes. True to form, Czarina tells me it is "too much". But I get compliments, so...
Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
Blood. Teeth. One chunk of skin. (Sorry, gross, I know.) Two moles. Splinters. Wait, does that count?
Would you like to have something removed from your body?
My ass. Yeah, pretty much all of it. Or at least the cellulite.
Do you prefer to read when you go to the bathroom?
Do you care? How about this instead: I have recently lost my favorite lip gloss. And this is bugging the shit out of me because I never lose things, especially items in my precious makeup collection. And it was a limited-edition color. Pisser.
Which of your five senses do you think is keenest?
Uh...I would say smell, I suppose. I am actually concerned with my hearing. I think I may have damaged it somewhat and I will be deaf when I am old.
When was the last time you had a cavity?
I just had my first one the last time I went. And they didn't file the filling down properly, and so it hurts to eat on the right side of my mouth. But I've already had them adjust it twice, and I don't want to keep going in because they will think I'm insane, so now I just chew on the left side.
What is the heaviest item you lift regularly?
My boobs. Ok, I am just kidding. K would say my purse, because I am like an old lady and carry everything but the kitchen sink in it. Do not be surprised if you see me pull the following things out of my purse: an orange, nail polish, an eyelash curler, a can of diet coke, dental floss, a bottle of Excedrin, a magazine, 8 lip glosses, a copy of my resume, trash from my car, a styrofoam cup, plastic silverware or my cell charger. Lord help me if I'm ever a mother.
Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
Yeah. But you should'a seen the other girl. Kidding. No, but I am a fainter. I have the ability to faint easily. However, it is not fun, as when I wake up, I want to barf and I have a headache. So I have learned how to control it. I haven't fainted in about 5 years. Now I am more likely to barf. I am a barfer.
**A bunch of stuff-OLOGY**
If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
No, because I would change how I live and act. And that is messed up. I would just be crying all the time. Who wants to live like that. However, I would like to know one thing: If I am ever getting married, have I already met him? Or not? (I actually wonder about this all the time.)
If you could change your first name, what would you change it to?
Something that people would never, ever name their dogs. (My real name is a very popular dog name, and I really hate that.)
How do you express your artistic side?
When did I get one of those??? I can draw decently. Every once in a while, I have a crafty moment and I will make something. But that's it. I express myself verbally so much that I guess I'm all expressed out by the time the crayons are placed in front of me.
What color do you think you look best in?
Pink. But do you really want to know that? Wouldn't you rather know that my first celebrity crush was Mark Wahlberg, back when he was still Marky Mark of Funky Bunch claim?
How long do you think you could last in a medium security prison?
I am a complete wuss. I would be dead meat, hands down. It would be like watching Private Benjamin, only the setting would be a prison. Instead of camo, I would be wearing an orange jump suit.
Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake?
"Yes. On purpose. Many times."--ok, that was Vixen's answer, and it was so good, that I have to just leave it there. Like I told her, I wish I'd thought of it first.
I did swallow a bug once. I was flapping my big mouth (surprise, surprise) and it flew in. I was so surprised, I gulped instinctively. Ew.
If we werent bound by society's conventions, do you have a relative you would make a pass at?
Ok, who is the sick f--k who wrote this survey? No. But under these circumstances, I would make a pass at a couple of DILFs I've met....
How often do you go to church?
Um...not at all lately. I could make up a lame excuse, but I won't. Guess I have a first-class ticket to hell. Then again, if I'm going anyway, I might as well go out with a bang. Good thing I kept Mr. HookUp's number.
Have you ever saved someones life?
I don't think so....unless I was driving and I braked just in the nick of time or something. Wouldn't it be cool if saved a hot guy's life, and he had to follow me around until he got an opportunity to save mine? Like in the movies. I would immediately become this OSHA-level safe person, so he would have to live with me forever. Then he would have to go to dinner with me all the time--I could choke, you know. And, it would probably be a good idea for him to bunk in bed with me, just in case I am bit by a poisonous spider in my sleep. Right?
Has someone ever saved yours?
Not in any dramatic, memorable way, no. But I'm sure someone blocked me from walking out into oncoming traffic at some point. Czarina was good at that.
**DARE-OLOGY**
Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000?
Actually, I think I would do this. I don't know how many people would want to watch, though. I certainly have a lot of "wobbly bits" I don't want most people seeing.
Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
Everyone keeps nagging me to try it anyway. I guess getting paid for it would make it that much easier.
Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000?
Can I die from that? How much would it impede my daily living? Clearly, I need more information.
Would you never blog again for $50,000?
That would suck, but I would do it. Before this started, talking on the phone with Lady Starfish was my blogging.
Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
This might not make sense, but there is no amount of money that would ever get me to do this. It's too close to being a hooker/stripper in my book. Not exactly something I want on my resume. Plus, during the photoshoot, I would have one thought running through my head: Soon, teenage boys will be sneaking into their dads' rooms to find this under the mattress so they can jerk off to my photo. Ew.
Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
I'd probably do this one, too. It would pay off a lot of my Visa.
Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
I don't know about this one. I think the guilt would take all the fun out of it for me. Then, I would live my life in fear of karma's revenge....so, negative to this offer.
Would you shave your head and get your entire body waxed for $5,000?
No way, Jose. Unless I was doing it to support Anne. :)
Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000?
Yeah. I'm a librarian. I should read more. Besides, that much money would mean I would have ZERO debt. Wow. Super thought.
Now who to tag with this? I guess just do it if you want to. But if you do, tell me so I can come read it!
Friday, September 08, 2006
Fun Friday
Ok, this will be more fun for me than for you. I stole 2 memes from Anne.
Things that scare me.
1. Crickets
2. heights (but funny enough, I am cool with flying!)
3. cooking large hunks of meat. If you screw it up, there goes dinner. If you don't cook it long enough, it's still raw in the middle. And don't even get me started on all the different cuts of meat. So freaking confusing.
People who make me laugh.
1. Sam over at Sam's Stories
2. Lady Starfish
3. Mrs. Boston
Things I hate most.
1. People who read over my shoulder
2. Inefficiency. Drives me bananas.
3. When someone says, "Whatever!" to me. Totally rude and disrespectful.
Things I don't understand.
1. How people get started on highly addictive, illegal substances. I mean, at some point, they have said, "Yeah! Put the needle in my arm! That's a great idea!"
2. Why some people are terrified of libraries
3. How some people I've met never seem to eat. Not in an anorexic kind of way, but they just seem to forget to eat. Everyone at the beach was like that last weekend. K and I kept looking at each other, saying, "When do these people eat? Why are we the only hungry people?"
Things I'm doing right now.
1. Worrying about my dog
2. Keeping a major secret and trying to decide what to do about it
3. Mentally making my weekend plans: game watching, cooking, going to the gym...
Things I want to do before I die.
1. Do more traveling
2. Go platinum blonde
3. Have lots of kids, even if it means owning 10 dogs
Things I can do.
1. Line my eyes with liquid eyeliner (it's harder than you think)
2. Drive stick shift
3. Stick up for myself when I've had enough
Ways to describe my personality.
1. Sarcastic
2. Friendly
3. Outgoing
4. Efficient (Anne did 4 here, so I guess that is legal..)
Things I can't do.
1. Make someone feel the same way about me as I do about them
2. Balance my checkbook--Why am I off by $4.12???? There is no logical reason.
3. Look good in brown
Things I think you should listen to.
1. Your gut instinct
2. Your mother
3. Your doctor
Things you should never listen to.
1. Your ex
2. A liar
3. Anyone saying something that sounds too good to be true.
Things I'd like to learn.
1. Several foreign languages
2. How to read people's minds
3. How to fix my car all by myself, or at least know when I'm being overcharged.
Favorite foods.
1.ice cream
2. cheese
3. fried chicken
Beverages I drink regularly.
1. coffee
2. diet coke
3. cranberry juice
Shows I watched as a kid.
1. G.I. Joe
2. Mission Impossible
3. He-Man
4. Transformers
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
8 Facts/Things/Habits about me.
1. I have animals in my dreams a LOT. I recently dreamt that I was being chased by a bear. And Hilary Swank drove up in a car and rescued me. Weird. The celebrity-in-your-dream thing is new for me. I have been having them a lot, lately.
2. I secretly have no desire to ever quit smoking. I love cigarettes. But I still try to quit because it's good for me.
3. There are certain things I'm willing to pay someone to do so I don't have to fool with it myself: cut/color my hair, squeeze my dog's butt, alter my clothes, steam clean my carpets, do my taxes.
4. I hate it when people (anyone) see me without makeup. Even my mother.
5. I hold very, very few grudges. If I do, it is because the person betrayed me in some way. Disloyalty is the ultimate sin in my book.
6. If money were no object, I would get acrylic nails and keep them on for the rest of my life. Yes, I know they are kinda tacky, but I like them anyway.
7. No matter how out-of-style they become, I will always wear the following: big earrings, frosty pink lipstick, high heels and fitted turtlenecks. Not necessarily all the time or all at once, though.
8. Lately, when something bad happens to me, I am convinced it is God's way of punishing me for not going to church anymore. So I apologize to Him a lot and make promises I may or may not keep.
Things that scare me.
1. Crickets
2. heights (but funny enough, I am cool with flying!)
3. cooking large hunks of meat. If you screw it up, there goes dinner. If you don't cook it long enough, it's still raw in the middle. And don't even get me started on all the different cuts of meat. So freaking confusing.
People who make me laugh.
1. Sam over at Sam's Stories
2. Lady Starfish
3. Mrs. Boston
Things I hate most.
1. People who read over my shoulder
2. Inefficiency. Drives me bananas.
3. When someone says, "Whatever!" to me. Totally rude and disrespectful.
Things I don't understand.
1. How people get started on highly addictive, illegal substances. I mean, at some point, they have said, "Yeah! Put the needle in my arm! That's a great idea!"
2. Why some people are terrified of libraries
3. How some people I've met never seem to eat. Not in an anorexic kind of way, but they just seem to forget to eat. Everyone at the beach was like that last weekend. K and I kept looking at each other, saying, "When do these people eat? Why are we the only hungry people?"
Things I'm doing right now.
1. Worrying about my dog
2. Keeping a major secret and trying to decide what to do about it
3. Mentally making my weekend plans: game watching, cooking, going to the gym...
Things I want to do before I die.
1. Do more traveling
2. Go platinum blonde
3. Have lots of kids, even if it means owning 10 dogs
Things I can do.
1. Line my eyes with liquid eyeliner (it's harder than you think)
2. Drive stick shift
3. Stick up for myself when I've had enough
Ways to describe my personality.
1. Sarcastic
2. Friendly
3. Outgoing
4. Efficient (Anne did 4 here, so I guess that is legal..)
Things I can't do.
1. Make someone feel the same way about me as I do about them
2. Balance my checkbook--Why am I off by $4.12???? There is no logical reason.
3. Look good in brown
Things I think you should listen to.
1. Your gut instinct
2. Your mother
3. Your doctor
Things you should never listen to.
1. Your ex
2. A liar
3. Anyone saying something that sounds too good to be true.
Things I'd like to learn.
1. Several foreign languages
2. How to read people's minds
3. How to fix my car all by myself, or at least know when I'm being overcharged.
Favorite foods.
1.ice cream
2. cheese
3. fried chicken
Beverages I drink regularly.
1. coffee
2. diet coke
3. cranberry juice
Shows I watched as a kid.
1. G.I. Joe
2. Mission Impossible
3. He-Man
4. Transformers
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
8 Facts/Things/Habits about me.
1. I have animals in my dreams a LOT. I recently dreamt that I was being chased by a bear. And Hilary Swank drove up in a car and rescued me. Weird. The celebrity-in-your-dream thing is new for me. I have been having them a lot, lately.
2. I secretly have no desire to ever quit smoking. I love cigarettes. But I still try to quit because it's good for me.
3. There are certain things I'm willing to pay someone to do so I don't have to fool with it myself: cut/color my hair, squeeze my dog's butt, alter my clothes, steam clean my carpets, do my taxes.
4. I hate it when people (anyone) see me without makeup. Even my mother.
5. I hold very, very few grudges. If I do, it is because the person betrayed me in some way. Disloyalty is the ultimate sin in my book.
6. If money were no object, I would get acrylic nails and keep them on for the rest of my life. Yes, I know they are kinda tacky, but I like them anyway.
7. No matter how out-of-style they become, I will always wear the following: big earrings, frosty pink lipstick, high heels and fitted turtlenecks. Not necessarily all the time or all at once, though.
8. Lately, when something bad happens to me, I am convinced it is God's way of punishing me for not going to church anymore. So I apologize to Him a lot and make promises I may or may not keep.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Another 100 Things
Ok, since I unintentionally lied to you yesterday, I will post twice today. I wrote this a while ago and never posted it. Here goes.
Look, it's my blog. If you don't want to read it, you can skip this post. I will get over it. Someday. *sniff*
101. I love to make lists and make them all the time.
102. I actually derive a lot of pleasure from organizing things. If there is no set organization system, I will create one. I did this with my crayons as a kid. And I do it with my closet, CDs, pantry and makeup now.
103. Except that I hate picking up my clothes. They are always all over my bedroom floor.
104. Big Brother is the only show I've ever been hooked on. I would like to be on Big Brother, actually. I think I'd be good at it.
105. Sure, I watch a ton of Comedy Central and CourtTV, but I am not picky about what is on those channels--I'll watch whatever is on them.
106. Shoot, I forgot I was also hooked on Average Joe. I have a tendency to root for the underdog.
107. I'd like to see a reality TV show about truckers. That whole lifestyle just fascinates me. How do they pay their bills? Do their laundry? Stay occupied? Not get sick of driving? Boggles my mind.
108. I had braces in 6th grade. And glasses. That was my "ugly duckling" phase.
109. I do my best thinking in the shower.
110. I taught myself how to type. I'm a fast typer.
111. I am the absolute worst liar in the history of mankind. So now I don't even try. But I am a huge exaggerator. Feel free to call me out.
112. I am blind as a bat. We're talking approaching 20/200 people.
113. But I wear contacts because I'm too vain not to.
114. My parents wouldn't let me get my ears pierced until I was 13. I have loved big earrings ever since.
115. I will wear huge hoop earrings no matter how old I get or how out-of-style they are.
116. But I wouldn't be caught dead in overalls. Ever.
117. Capri pants and gauchos are so cute, but look awful on my figure. This is because my hips are roughly equivalent to the circumference of the earth. And my legs are on the short n stocky side. I'm more of a skirt girl. Luckily, I don't have kankles.
118. I always joke that I was born in heels, because I'm like Barbie--my feet are just naturally adapted to walking in them. Easy for me. Note: This does not mean I'm not a klutz. I'm a huge klutz.
119. Size 14 is my limit. Once I hit that, I go into panic mode, get super healthy, and go back to a size 10. Then I repeat the cycle all over again.
120. I am a 36C. And grateful every day.
121. Milky Way is my favorite candy bar. I am weird because I don't really care for Snickers. I also love the sour mix from Jelly Belly.
122. I hate cottage cheese. Eww Eww Eww.
123. I prefer my marshmallows and Twizzlers stale. As in, crunchy or tough-as-leather stale. I leave the packages open intentionally to achieve this.
124. This makes them very tough to chew, which relieves stress. This habit got started in college when I had to pull all-nighters.
125. I am now a major morning person. I wake up in a great mood. Usually.
126. I am a cranky bitch when I'm tired. I will cry, just like little kids do when they are tired. I have to take a nap if I want to stay up late.
127. My favorite video game is Tetris. Can play it until my eyeballs fall out.
128. My favorite board games are Taboo and Scattergories. They are really fun when the other people are drunk. I also like Trivial Pursuit. But I suck at Scrabble. Unless dirty words are allowed.
129. I was born on a Tuesday around lunchtime.
130. I was born in Charlottesville, VA. Go Wahoos! (UVA in case you are wondering).
131. I have never flashed or mooned a stranger.
132. But I am a huge pervert.
133. Old people usually get on my nerves.
134. I love kids of all ages. Ironically, I am not all that keen on babysitting. Unless I really like the kids.
135. I take really good care of my things. Always have. My CDs are rarely scratched. My Barbies never had tangled hair. My clothes....well...like I said, they are on my floor. So I do a lot of last-minute ironing.
136. Traveling stresses me out a lot. But I believe that anything worth doing is worth some risk and/or stress. So I keep doing it and love it every time. Despite pitting out my shirts while I travel. (Seriously, you don't want to sit next to me. I sweat buckets when I'm stressed.)
137. I am one of those people who can't get started on anything until I clean or make a list. Or check my email.
138. The zoo is awesome. I could go every day.
139. My favorite animals there are the penguins.
140. One time I stumbled on the Galapagos tortoises getting it on.
141. I am 5'5". This makes me the runt of my family. Height-wise, anyway.
142. I have no tattoos or body piercings. I don't want any.
143. There are six kids in my family now.
144. I have a nephew whom I have never met. He is about 8 and lives in Minnesota. My older brother doesn't have custody, so he can't take him out of the state. This sucks. Because I would be a cool aunt.
145. I really love big trees. So pretty and nice to have around. I think this is because I spent a lot of time exploring the forest of gigantic oak trees in my backyard as a kid.
146. I have mixed feelings about big thunderstorms. If I'm with someone, I think they are cool and I will watch them. But if I'm alone, I get kinda scared.
147. I am absolutely terrified of these. You might say I am even phobic. I call them Ninja Crickets because they will jump on me and attack me. Do not confuse this bug with the black version. Those don't bother me for some reason.
148. Spiders don't bother me all that much either, unless they are huge. And roaches are just awful creatures sent to torture me. But still not as bad as #147.
149. I think I have a pretty high threshold for pain.
150. I broke my foot once. I didn't take any painkillers for it.
151. But since I was on crutches, I took them for my wrists. They swelled up from holding my weight all day long. I have tiny wrists. And a lot of body weight. Bad combo.
152. I have never seen the Pacific Ocean or the Gulf of Mexico.
153. I'm a good speller. Not perfect, but good.
154. Good grammar is also one of my fortes. Czarina would disagree with that.
155. I hate Carrot Top. My own personal hell would be having to sit next to him on a Greyhound bus for a cross-country trip. With Kathy Griffin on the other side. No, I don't have anything against redheads. Just a coincidence. But I want him to die. And she's just annoying.
156. I'm really good at Greek and Roman mythology trivia. However, I know very few Bible stories. Some people are amazed at how little I know about the Bible.
157. If I could be on any gameshow, I'd pick Jeopardy. I love that show. Sometimes I grab a calculator and play along. Sometimes I win. I can't believe I just admitted that.
158. My favorite book is The Good Earth or anything by Jane Austen.
159. When it comes to fiction, I like classics the most. I'm on a mission to read everything covered by Cliff's Notes. It is a life-long guilt trip from never reading anything I was supposed to in English class. Being told what to read really annoyed me. It was how I rebelled.
160. But now I'm old enough to understand and love books like that.
161. I like doing crossword puzzles, even though I'm not very good at them. I'm better at Jumble.
162. When I was a teenager, I always got in trouble for talking in class and disobeying my curfew. I was grounded a lot. I snuck out anyway.
163. I am the tattle tale in my family. I'm not especially proud of this. But that's not enough to stop me.
164. I sleep like a rock. Unless I'm stressed out. Then I get insomnia.
165. Because MTV and VH1 were verboten in the Belle Household growing up (because of their sexual and profane language), I am now obsessed with watching music videos. And I instantly love any song with dirty lyrics. I learn them quickly so I can sing along.
166. My dad's side of the family came over on The Mayflower.
167. Although I like scary ghost stuff and crime stories, I dislike gore and excessive violence on TV or in movies.
168. When I was a kid, I would draw the same thing over and over and over, trying to perfect it. Early evidence of my OCD tendencies. And my natural hesitation to try new things. (Btw, it was a red house on a hill with flowers and a tree. Over and over...)
169. I listen to techno and metal when I work out. I truly believe it helps me burn more calories. I cannot exercise without music.
170. My ideal pizza has pepperoni, mushrooms, bacon and green peppers. The green peppers are only on it so I can say I eat veggies on my pizza. I don't really like them all that much.
171. When I go to Starbuck's, I get a tall Vanilla Latte. They always misspell my name. This irritates me to no end.
172. My favorite ice cream flavors are lemon custard and cookies n cream.
173. I love to buy office supplies. I dream of having this fabulous, well-organized and spacious home office. It would look like the one in the Pottery Barn catalog. If I ever have the money, I will buy it. And sit at it day and night, starting projects. I'm not much of a finsher...
174. It bothers me when my jewelry doesn't match. I have to have sets. Or I'll just wear one piece at a time.
175. I usually get ketchup, mustard and pickles on my burgers. But sometimes I get mayo, A-1 sauce and pickles. And fries must have ketchup. Anything else is criminal.
176. I read tarot cards for my friends. Just for fun, not because I believe in that stuff.
177. I secretly wish that hoop skirts and corsets were still worn. That's because they would conceal my huge butt while emphasizing my waist. I think I have watched Gone With the Wind one too many times.
178. I love hardwood floors, big sinks, huge porches and crown moulding. If I ever buy a house, I hope to have these features.
179. One day I want to take up gardening and tennis.
180. I cannot sew or knit. I don't ever care to learn. This is a major sticking point between me and The Czarina.
181. If no one would find out and I didn't have to go anywhere, I would stay in my pjs all day. I would not shower, brush my hair or teeth and would lay on the couch reading, eating candy, napping and watching tv. I am a closet grungy girl.
182. I have never had the same dream twice. But Ihave lots of dreams about snakes.
183. I dream in color, but I rarely see people's faces. I see their bodies, but there is a black cloud where their face would be. Somehow, I still know who they are.
184. My biggest pet peeve in the whole world is this situation: I introduce myself. The other person says, "Your name is VB? How funny! My dog's name is VB!" It makes me want to say, "You know, this is crazy. Because your name is Mary, and that's what I named my -----! How weird!" Why people want to tell me I have the same name as their pet, I will never understand. It's really annoying and insulting.
185. Because of this, I think it should be illegal to name pets human names. Yes, I realize my dog's name is Sammy. But he was already named when I got him.
186. I'm a really good test-taker. I usually ace them. Especially if it is essay. This is because I'm good at B.S.
187. I want a pig pickin at my wedding reception.
188. I love playing hostess and dream of throwing Martha Stewart-quality parties.
189. I usually keep my word. If I don't, I feel terrible.
190. I hate wearing rings. This doesn't mesh well with my desire to get married one day. I also hate wearing nail polish on my fingers because it chips within three hours of me putting it on.
191. I have extremely oily skin, even on my body. I will break out all over if I'm not careful. The only parts of my body that get dry are my hands and feet.
192. I cannot do the butterfly stroke. And I am paranoid of diving into pools. So I didn't do so hot in swimteam competitions.
193. If Icould meet anyone from history, I'd probably meet Cleopatra.
194. I love Camel Lights. I am constantly trying to quit.
195. Running a marathon would be on my list of things I want to do before I die, but my body rejects this idea every time I try to get started on it. I get major leg, knee and foot pain. People that can run races are awesome. I am jealous.
196. My feelings get hurt very very easily. To the point that people have said, "Really? That hurt your feelings?" Yeah, I'm ridiculous.
197. I smoked pot a few times in college. It made me paranoid and stupid. And I couldn't stop eating. Not my idea of a fun time.
198. I have a really hard time staying angry at people I love. But if I get a grudge, usually it is loyalty-related and I hold the grudge forever.
199. I could eat breakfast at every meal.
200. I have been told I have a fantastic walk.
Look, it's my blog. If you don't want to read it, you can skip this post. I will get over it. Someday. *sniff*
101. I love to make lists and make them all the time.
102. I actually derive a lot of pleasure from organizing things. If there is no set organization system, I will create one. I did this with my crayons as a kid. And I do it with my closet, CDs, pantry and makeup now.
103. Except that I hate picking up my clothes. They are always all over my bedroom floor.
104. Big Brother is the only show I've ever been hooked on. I would like to be on Big Brother, actually. I think I'd be good at it.
105. Sure, I watch a ton of Comedy Central and CourtTV, but I am not picky about what is on those channels--I'll watch whatever is on them.
106. Shoot, I forgot I was also hooked on Average Joe. I have a tendency to root for the underdog.
107. I'd like to see a reality TV show about truckers. That whole lifestyle just fascinates me. How do they pay their bills? Do their laundry? Stay occupied? Not get sick of driving? Boggles my mind.
108. I had braces in 6th grade. And glasses. That was my "ugly duckling" phase.
109. I do my best thinking in the shower.
110. I taught myself how to type. I'm a fast typer.
111. I am the absolute worst liar in the history of mankind. So now I don't even try. But I am a huge exaggerator. Feel free to call me out.
112. I am blind as a bat. We're talking approaching 20/200 people.
113. But I wear contacts because I'm too vain not to.
114. My parents wouldn't let me get my ears pierced until I was 13. I have loved big earrings ever since.
115. I will wear huge hoop earrings no matter how old I get or how out-of-style they are.
116. But I wouldn't be caught dead in overalls. Ever.
117. Capri pants and gauchos are so cute, but look awful on my figure. This is because my hips are roughly equivalent to the circumference of the earth. And my legs are on the short n stocky side. I'm more of a skirt girl. Luckily, I don't have kankles.
118. I always joke that I was born in heels, because I'm like Barbie--my feet are just naturally adapted to walking in them. Easy for me. Note: This does not mean I'm not a klutz. I'm a huge klutz.
119. Size 14 is my limit. Once I hit that, I go into panic mode, get super healthy, and go back to a size 10. Then I repeat the cycle all over again.
120. I am a 36C. And grateful every day.
121. Milky Way is my favorite candy bar. I am weird because I don't really care for Snickers. I also love the sour mix from Jelly Belly.
122. I hate cottage cheese. Eww Eww Eww.
123. I prefer my marshmallows and Twizzlers stale. As in, crunchy or tough-as-leather stale. I leave the packages open intentionally to achieve this.
124. This makes them very tough to chew, which relieves stress. This habit got started in college when I had to pull all-nighters.
125. I am now a major morning person. I wake up in a great mood. Usually.
126. I am a cranky bitch when I'm tired. I will cry, just like little kids do when they are tired. I have to take a nap if I want to stay up late.
127. My favorite video game is Tetris. Can play it until my eyeballs fall out.
128. My favorite board games are Taboo and Scattergories. They are really fun when the other people are drunk. I also like Trivial Pursuit. But I suck at Scrabble. Unless dirty words are allowed.
129. I was born on a Tuesday around lunchtime.
130. I was born in Charlottesville, VA. Go Wahoos! (UVA in case you are wondering).
131. I have never flashed or mooned a stranger.
132. But I am a huge pervert.
133. Old people usually get on my nerves.
134. I love kids of all ages. Ironically, I am not all that keen on babysitting. Unless I really like the kids.
135. I take really good care of my things. Always have. My CDs are rarely scratched. My Barbies never had tangled hair. My clothes....well...like I said, they are on my floor. So I do a lot of last-minute ironing.
136. Traveling stresses me out a lot. But I believe that anything worth doing is worth some risk and/or stress. So I keep doing it and love it every time. Despite pitting out my shirts while I travel. (Seriously, you don't want to sit next to me. I sweat buckets when I'm stressed.)
137. I am one of those people who can't get started on anything until I clean or make a list. Or check my email.
138. The zoo is awesome. I could go every day.
139. My favorite animals there are the penguins.
140. One time I stumbled on the Galapagos tortoises getting it on.
141. I am 5'5". This makes me the runt of my family. Height-wise, anyway.
142. I have no tattoos or body piercings. I don't want any.
143. There are six kids in my family now.
144. I have a nephew whom I have never met. He is about 8 and lives in Minnesota. My older brother doesn't have custody, so he can't take him out of the state. This sucks. Because I would be a cool aunt.
145. I really love big trees. So pretty and nice to have around. I think this is because I spent a lot of time exploring the forest of gigantic oak trees in my backyard as a kid.
146. I have mixed feelings about big thunderstorms. If I'm with someone, I think they are cool and I will watch them. But if I'm alone, I get kinda scared.
147. I am absolutely terrified of these. You might say I am even phobic. I call them Ninja Crickets because they will jump on me and attack me. Do not confuse this bug with the black version. Those don't bother me for some reason.
148. Spiders don't bother me all that much either, unless they are huge. And roaches are just awful creatures sent to torture me. But still not as bad as #147.
149. I think I have a pretty high threshold for pain.
150. I broke my foot once. I didn't take any painkillers for it.
151. But since I was on crutches, I took them for my wrists. They swelled up from holding my weight all day long. I have tiny wrists. And a lot of body weight. Bad combo.
152. I have never seen the Pacific Ocean or the Gulf of Mexico.
153. I'm a good speller. Not perfect, but good.
154. Good grammar is also one of my fortes. Czarina would disagree with that.
155. I hate Carrot Top. My own personal hell would be having to sit next to him on a Greyhound bus for a cross-country trip. With Kathy Griffin on the other side. No, I don't have anything against redheads. Just a coincidence. But I want him to die. And she's just annoying.
156. I'm really good at Greek and Roman mythology trivia. However, I know very few Bible stories. Some people are amazed at how little I know about the Bible.
157. If I could be on any gameshow, I'd pick Jeopardy. I love that show. Sometimes I grab a calculator and play along. Sometimes I win. I can't believe I just admitted that.
158. My favorite book is The Good Earth or anything by Jane Austen.
159. When it comes to fiction, I like classics the most. I'm on a mission to read everything covered by Cliff's Notes. It is a life-long guilt trip from never reading anything I was supposed to in English class. Being told what to read really annoyed me. It was how I rebelled.
160. But now I'm old enough to understand and love books like that.
161. I like doing crossword puzzles, even though I'm not very good at them. I'm better at Jumble.
162. When I was a teenager, I always got in trouble for talking in class and disobeying my curfew. I was grounded a lot. I snuck out anyway.
163. I am the tattle tale in my family. I'm not especially proud of this. But that's not enough to stop me.
164. I sleep like a rock. Unless I'm stressed out. Then I get insomnia.
165. Because MTV and VH1 were verboten in the Belle Household growing up (because of their sexual and profane language), I am now obsessed with watching music videos. And I instantly love any song with dirty lyrics. I learn them quickly so I can sing along.
166. My dad's side of the family came over on The Mayflower.
167. Although I like scary ghost stuff and crime stories, I dislike gore and excessive violence on TV or in movies.
168. When I was a kid, I would draw the same thing over and over and over, trying to perfect it. Early evidence of my OCD tendencies. And my natural hesitation to try new things. (Btw, it was a red house on a hill with flowers and a tree. Over and over...)
169. I listen to techno and metal when I work out. I truly believe it helps me burn more calories. I cannot exercise without music.
170. My ideal pizza has pepperoni, mushrooms, bacon and green peppers. The green peppers are only on it so I can say I eat veggies on my pizza. I don't really like them all that much.
171. When I go to Starbuck's, I get a tall Vanilla Latte. They always misspell my name. This irritates me to no end.
172. My favorite ice cream flavors are lemon custard and cookies n cream.
173. I love to buy office supplies. I dream of having this fabulous, well-organized and spacious home office. It would look like the one in the Pottery Barn catalog. If I ever have the money, I will buy it. And sit at it day and night, starting projects. I'm not much of a finsher...
174. It bothers me when my jewelry doesn't match. I have to have sets. Or I'll just wear one piece at a time.
175. I usually get ketchup, mustard and pickles on my burgers. But sometimes I get mayo, A-1 sauce and pickles. And fries must have ketchup. Anything else is criminal.
176. I read tarot cards for my friends. Just for fun, not because I believe in that stuff.
177. I secretly wish that hoop skirts and corsets were still worn. That's because they would conceal my huge butt while emphasizing my waist. I think I have watched Gone With the Wind one too many times.
178. I love hardwood floors, big sinks, huge porches and crown moulding. If I ever buy a house, I hope to have these features.
179. One day I want to take up gardening and tennis.
180. I cannot sew or knit. I don't ever care to learn. This is a major sticking point between me and The Czarina.
181. If no one would find out and I didn't have to go anywhere, I would stay in my pjs all day. I would not shower, brush my hair or teeth and would lay on the couch reading, eating candy, napping and watching tv. I am a closet grungy girl.
182. I have never had the same dream twice. But Ihave lots of dreams about snakes.
183. I dream in color, but I rarely see people's faces. I see their bodies, but there is a black cloud where their face would be. Somehow, I still know who they are.
184. My biggest pet peeve in the whole world is this situation: I introduce myself. The other person says, "Your name is VB? How funny! My dog's name is VB!" It makes me want to say, "You know, this is crazy. Because your name is Mary, and that's what I named my -----! How weird!" Why people want to tell me I have the same name as their pet, I will never understand. It's really annoying and insulting.
185. Because of this, I think it should be illegal to name pets human names. Yes, I realize my dog's name is Sammy. But he was already named when I got him.
186. I'm a really good test-taker. I usually ace them. Especially if it is essay. This is because I'm good at B.S.
187. I want a pig pickin at my wedding reception.
188. I love playing hostess and dream of throwing Martha Stewart-quality parties.
189. I usually keep my word. If I don't, I feel terrible.
190. I hate wearing rings. This doesn't mesh well with my desire to get married one day. I also hate wearing nail polish on my fingers because it chips within three hours of me putting it on.
191. I have extremely oily skin, even on my body. I will break out all over if I'm not careful. The only parts of my body that get dry are my hands and feet.
192. I cannot do the butterfly stroke. And I am paranoid of diving into pools. So I didn't do so hot in swimteam competitions.
193. If Icould meet anyone from history, I'd probably meet Cleopatra.
194. I love Camel Lights. I am constantly trying to quit.
195. Running a marathon would be on my list of things I want to do before I die, but my body rejects this idea every time I try to get started on it. I get major leg, knee and foot pain. People that can run races are awesome. I am jealous.
196. My feelings get hurt very very easily. To the point that people have said, "Really? That hurt your feelings?" Yeah, I'm ridiculous.
197. I smoked pot a few times in college. It made me paranoid and stupid. And I couldn't stop eating. Not my idea of a fun time.
198. I have a really hard time staying angry at people I love. But if I get a grudge, usually it is loyalty-related and I hold the grudge forever.
199. I could eat breakfast at every meal.
200. I have been told I have a fantastic walk.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
