current mood: defiant
And you're singing the songs
Thinking this is the life
And you wake up in the morning and you're head feels twice the size
Where you gonna go? Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna sleep tonight?
~ “This is the Life” by Amy Macdonald
Tomorrow, a new decade is upon us. The Tens/Teens, which is far less fun to say than the Aughts. Not to mention, as far as ages go – the teens have never been good ones. In 2014, will the century hate us like 14 year-olds hate their parents? Regardless, (not, “irregardless” which people LOVE to say – without any idea of its lack of meaning), whether the teens hate us or not, they are here to stay for the next 10 years. Welcome!
Being a classic Virgo, I have not only made New Years resolutions, I have also made New Decade resolutions. If I keep any of them past June, I will have fulfilled any realistic obligations. Because I do not want to publicly attract ridicule, I am not sharing all of my resolutions with the general population. I already hear enough criticism from myself – I don’t need your help. Still, I am comfortable sharing that I am going for massive reductions in size, clutter, unhealthy food intake, and debt. I am also going to strive for an increase in self-confidence, positive thinking, and hydration.
Tonight, I hope everyone stays safe and warm and has a sober driver/chaperone. If you need to drunk dial – y’all know the number.
Fare thee well, 2009!
31 December 2009
23 December 2009
A Holiday Story - of sorts
There once lived a girl named, Killian, who loved to go to office supply stores. Some unenlightened peeps called this an obsession; but for her, it was merely a safe place in which to dream and wander without fear of ridicule or running into anyone she didn’t care for. You see, only good people go to office supply stores. No Jerk faces Allowed – is an unposted sign at every store with “office” or an office supply in its title.
One cold and blustery evening, she was perusing the aisles of the local nationally recognized brand of office supply stores, when she heard a commotion. A commotion? she thought, in an office supply store? What is the world coming to? Still, her curiosity got the best of her and she tip-toed to the end of her aisle and stared around the corner at the cause of the aforementioned commotion.
There was a very angry customer. His ethnicity is not relevant, except for the fact that his family ‘back home’ is probably going to have my job and yours this time next year. The customer was raising his voice – which made him even more difficult to understand. I am sure his name was “Bob” and that he and I have exchanged words before on the telephone. Anyway, I digress. “Bob” was pissed and the middle-aged female associate was yelling above him. Another manager was present, though remarkably silent. I think we were both hoping for a brawl.
No such luck – the fat lady stormed off, mumbling loudly to herself. Then Super Manager took over and calmed “Bob” down. Believing the show to be over, Killian returned to her original quest – finding the perfect pen. She narrowed her search down to three choices – the new uniball Fusion with the clear ink that turns to colored when it leaves the pen; the Parker Urban, which was elegant and modern, AND on clearance; and finally, the green cased professional desktop pen that looked to be durable as hell, and was also on clearance.
She took her three packages to the cash register, only to encounter still-angry sales lady, talking on her little associate headset, complaining about Bob while simultaneously seeking reassurance that she won’t get in trouble for her actions. She turned to our young heroine and asked for her “marketing card” which she didn’t have. As an alternative she asked for her phone number to type into the cash register. Before Killian could say 817, the associate typed 402, causing her issue when the entire number was recited.
Then, laughing, Ms. Associate commented that lots of out of town people were in the store that night and wanted to know where Killian was from. Hating when “the help” gets overly familiar, she curtly explained that she had moved to this fine city from the Lone Star state and had elected not to change her phone number. Not taking the hint, the associate adds, yeah it’s hard to remember a new phone number - so much easier to keep the old one. -- Whatever –
Walking out into the icy cold rain, Killian spoke aloud to no one in particular – fecking eejit – if it weren’t Christmas I’d have your ass fired for your stupidity and unprofessionalism.
Still she couldn’t remain irritated, because she had new pens to try out and letters to write.
The End
One cold and blustery evening, she was perusing the aisles of the local nationally recognized brand of office supply stores, when she heard a commotion. A commotion? she thought, in an office supply store? What is the world coming to? Still, her curiosity got the best of her and she tip-toed to the end of her aisle and stared around the corner at the cause of the aforementioned commotion.
There was a very angry customer. His ethnicity is not relevant, except for the fact that his family ‘back home’ is probably going to have my job and yours this time next year. The customer was raising his voice – which made him even more difficult to understand. I am sure his name was “Bob” and that he and I have exchanged words before on the telephone. Anyway, I digress. “Bob” was pissed and the middle-aged female associate was yelling above him. Another manager was present, though remarkably silent. I think we were both hoping for a brawl.
No such luck – the fat lady stormed off, mumbling loudly to herself. Then Super Manager took over and calmed “Bob” down. Believing the show to be over, Killian returned to her original quest – finding the perfect pen. She narrowed her search down to three choices – the new uniball Fusion with the clear ink that turns to colored when it leaves the pen; the Parker Urban, which was elegant and modern, AND on clearance; and finally, the green cased professional desktop pen that looked to be durable as hell, and was also on clearance.
She took her three packages to the cash register, only to encounter still-angry sales lady, talking on her little associate headset, complaining about Bob while simultaneously seeking reassurance that she won’t get in trouble for her actions. She turned to our young heroine and asked for her “marketing card” which she didn’t have. As an alternative she asked for her phone number to type into the cash register. Before Killian could say 817, the associate typed 402, causing her issue when the entire number was recited.
Then, laughing, Ms. Associate commented that lots of out of town people were in the store that night and wanted to know where Killian was from. Hating when “the help” gets overly familiar, she curtly explained that she had moved to this fine city from the Lone Star state and had elected not to change her phone number. Not taking the hint, the associate adds, yeah it’s hard to remember a new phone number - so much easier to keep the old one. -- Whatever –
Walking out into the icy cold rain, Killian spoke aloud to no one in particular – fecking eejit – if it weren’t Christmas I’d have your ass fired for your stupidity and unprofessionalism.
Still she couldn’t remain irritated, because she had new pens to try out and letters to write.
The End
10 December 2009
Snuggie (the blanket with arms)
current mood: warm
If you're wondering if I want you to, (I want you to) I want you to
(I want you to)
So make a move, (Make a move) 'cos I ain't got all night
So much pain may come our way
There may come a day when we have nothing left to say
When the conversation stops, and we're facing our defeat
I'll be next to you and you'll be right there next to me
~ “I Want You To” by Weezer
NBF is a responsible with his finances. He does what he can to make sure that he doesn’t waste money on silly things, like turning on his heat. Actually, he does run his heat, but it is at a temperature a little too low for my comfort level (by “a little” I mean that I practically freeze to death while I am there. Due to my discomfort, he has been running it higher when I am present – but I feel badly that my need for warmer surroundings will push his electric bill over 20 bucks a month (lol, yes, he pays less than 20 dollars a month for electricity). Luckily for me, he is a smart cookie and decided the best option for both of us would be that I have a source of warmth that keeps me comfortable, while maintaining portability so I can move around the apartment with ease. His solution: Buy a Snuggie
Yesterday was the first opportunity I had to utilize it since our normal Tuesday Night date was postponed due to a blizzard. As soon as I got to his house, I opened the box. He bought me the bright blue one and it is so pretty. It even came with a free bonus, a self-opening book light that clips onto a book so that I can read in a dark room while wearing my Snuggie. For those of you who have never seen a Snuggie in person, let me share a couple of details of which I was unaware until actually opening the box:
1. The Snuggie truly is a blanket with arms. You wear it backwards compared to a jacket.
2. They are one-size fits all – so if you are 5’4’, like me, you will definitely have to roll up the sleeves and be careful not to trip when you walk around in it.
3. If you choose not to roil up the sleeves, you will resemble a Druid or Priestess and may convince people that you have magical powers.
Overall, I absolutely love my Snuggie and am going to have to get one for my own house as well. Now, I understand that not everyone wants a Snuggie. For those people, there is an alternative item. Here is the Youtube infomercial for the Snuggie alternative.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMzv_rnU5l0
A big thanks to Dustin McLean for this infomercial production!
PERSONAL NOTE: You are one cool cat!
CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: Someone is not being as upfront as expected. Check phone records.
If you're wondering if I want you to, (I want you to) I want you to
(I want you to)
So make a move, (Make a move) 'cos I ain't got all night
So much pain may come our way
There may come a day when we have nothing left to say
When the conversation stops, and we're facing our defeat
I'll be next to you and you'll be right there next to me
~ “I Want You To” by Weezer
NBF is a responsible with his finances. He does what he can to make sure that he doesn’t waste money on silly things, like turning on his heat. Actually, he does run his heat, but it is at a temperature a little too low for my comfort level (by “a little” I mean that I practically freeze to death while I am there. Due to my discomfort, he has been running it higher when I am present – but I feel badly that my need for warmer surroundings will push his electric bill over 20 bucks a month (lol, yes, he pays less than 20 dollars a month for electricity). Luckily for me, he is a smart cookie and decided the best option for both of us would be that I have a source of warmth that keeps me comfortable, while maintaining portability so I can move around the apartment with ease. His solution: Buy a Snuggie
Yesterday was the first opportunity I had to utilize it since our normal Tuesday Night date was postponed due to a blizzard. As soon as I got to his house, I opened the box. He bought me the bright blue one and it is so pretty. It even came with a free bonus, a self-opening book light that clips onto a book so that I can read in a dark room while wearing my Snuggie. For those of you who have never seen a Snuggie in person, let me share a couple of details of which I was unaware until actually opening the box:
1. The Snuggie truly is a blanket with arms. You wear it backwards compared to a jacket.
2. They are one-size fits all – so if you are 5’4’, like me, you will definitely have to roll up the sleeves and be careful not to trip when you walk around in it.
3. If you choose not to roil up the sleeves, you will resemble a Druid or Priestess and may convince people that you have magical powers.
Overall, I absolutely love my Snuggie and am going to have to get one for my own house as well. Now, I understand that not everyone wants a Snuggie. For those people, there is an alternative item. Here is the Youtube infomercial for the Snuggie alternative.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMzv_rnU5l0
A big thanks to Dustin McLean for this infomercial production!
PERSONAL NOTE: You are one cool cat!
CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: Someone is not being as upfront as expected. Check phone records.
07 December 2009
Envenomation
Current mood: over it
Oh, well happy New Year’s baby
we could probably fix it if we clean it up all day
Or we could simply pack our bags
And catch a plane to Barcelona 'cause this city's a drag
~ “Holiday in Spain” by Counting Crows
I received word that my anxiety medication will be moving to Tier 3 in my insurance company’s classifications of prescription drugs. Lucky me! I will now have more anxiety over the cost of the meds which are supposed to eliminate my symptoms of tarantism. Perhaps, I should pray to St. Paul for intercession. I highly doubt, however, that the secular actuaries at UHC will listen to what he has to say. No matter! I’ll probably freeze to death before the co-pay change takes effect anyway.
It snowed yesterday and last night. It is supposed to snow again tonight – then tomorrow, we are supposed to get a winter storm (aka blizzard). I am all for a White Christmas – but it is still 3 weeks away and I am not in favor of an entire month of snowfall. Does that make me a Scrooge? I believe snow is good for two things: 1. Sledding 2. Skiing
Since I have to work during the week, I see no reason why there should be any snow on the ground between Monday morning and Friday afternoon. Kids don’t need Snow Days. They can play in the snow on the weekends. I remember when Ex-Husband #2, the Twins, and I went to Six Flags over Texas for their winter wonderland and waited in line for 2 hours to sled down a real sledding hill with real (fake) snow. The line was ridiculous – but we waited, because the twins had so much fun sledding in Omaha that they ‘just had to do it again’. When our turn came, we climbed up this scaffolding disguised as stairs and sat down on plastic sleds. And we slid down the hill. When we reached the bottom, I looked at the twins and said, “Did you have fun?” They both looked at me as if I were an eejit and Girl Twin said, “Um, that wasn’t half as fun as sledding on the hill by Gigi and Papa’s.” Boy twin, who is far less diplomatic said, “That sucked.” Ex-husband pointed out that there went 2 hours of our lives we will never get back.
More honest words have never been spoken.
I want winter to be over.
PERSONAL NOTE: Watch your mailbox for surprises.
CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: Some days I miss you. Some days I don’t.
Oh, well happy New Year’s baby
we could probably fix it if we clean it up all day
Or we could simply pack our bags
And catch a plane to Barcelona 'cause this city's a drag
~ “Holiday in Spain” by Counting Crows
I received word that my anxiety medication will be moving to Tier 3 in my insurance company’s classifications of prescription drugs. Lucky me! I will now have more anxiety over the cost of the meds which are supposed to eliminate my symptoms of tarantism. Perhaps, I should pray to St. Paul for intercession. I highly doubt, however, that the secular actuaries at UHC will listen to what he has to say. No matter! I’ll probably freeze to death before the co-pay change takes effect anyway.
It snowed yesterday and last night. It is supposed to snow again tonight – then tomorrow, we are supposed to get a winter storm (aka blizzard). I am all for a White Christmas – but it is still 3 weeks away and I am not in favor of an entire month of snowfall. Does that make me a Scrooge? I believe snow is good for two things: 1. Sledding 2. Skiing
Since I have to work during the week, I see no reason why there should be any snow on the ground between Monday morning and Friday afternoon. Kids don’t need Snow Days. They can play in the snow on the weekends. I remember when Ex-Husband #2, the Twins, and I went to Six Flags over Texas for their winter wonderland and waited in line for 2 hours to sled down a real sledding hill with real (fake) snow. The line was ridiculous – but we waited, because the twins had so much fun sledding in Omaha that they ‘just had to do it again’. When our turn came, we climbed up this scaffolding disguised as stairs and sat down on plastic sleds. And we slid down the hill. When we reached the bottom, I looked at the twins and said, “Did you have fun?” They both looked at me as if I were an eejit and Girl Twin said, “Um, that wasn’t half as fun as sledding on the hill by Gigi and Papa’s.” Boy twin, who is far less diplomatic said, “That sucked.” Ex-husband pointed out that there went 2 hours of our lives we will never get back.
More honest words have never been spoken.
I want winter to be over.
PERSONAL NOTE: Watch your mailbox for surprises.
CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: Some days I miss you. Some days I don’t.
04 December 2009
All She Wants for Christmas is HER Two Front Teeth
Current mood: fantastical
if the truth's overdue i know you'll remind me
if the truth police are sniffing out a lie
i've done nothing in life i can't put behind me
i'll use my life as an alibi
~ ‘My Uptight Life’ by Teenage Fanclub
That joke was relayed to me via a dental assistant courtesy of a Laffy Taffy wrapper. Granted I was a captive audience and I had no where to run – but, it was funny and I laughed, then cut off my own airway with my tongue as I did all in my power to keep it away from the drill that was working on my tooth yesterday. Even now, as I sit here with a temporary crown (and lots of excess tooth cement() in my mouth, I am nervous about writing this -- since the assistant whom we’ll refer to as ‘Taffy’ for her Laffy Taffy jokes, asked for my blog address yesterday. I said it fast in hopes she will have forgotten it before there was time to write it down. I don’t need her knowing that I enjoy all this special time with the dentist because he is hot. Though, she does work with him, so she already knows he’s hot.
Last night’s visit took almost 2 hours and all of them were spent in the dental chair. A few things happened though, which almost revealed my fondness for Dr. Hottie. The first was my own carelessness. He was looking into my mouth, and I was staring at his brown eyes. He startled me with the question, “Are you watching me work in the reflection of my glasses?” Always quick on my feet, I responded in the affirmative. It was at that point that I actually realized there WAS a reflection to watch. I was saved by the obvious assumption that a patient would not be day dreaming about brown eyes while having teeth drilled. All following issues occurred because I get all giggly and blush bright red when he smiles at me. What a dork I am!
Plus, I have a very guttersnipe mind while lying in that dental chair with my dentist’s hands in my mouth. I didn’t heed his warning when he said, “I’m sorry this isn’t going to taste the best” . . . as he coated my tooth with some liquidy grossness, I was overconfident in my ability to not gag. He really underestimated how bad this stuff tasted . . . the instant it pooled in the back of my throat; I couldn’t breathe and began choking. He had to back up, along with the assistant, because I truly thought I was going to vomit in the chair. I sat up, coughing and sputtering; making that awful ‘ready to throw up’ guttural sound, while praying to the gods that I did not throw up in front of the hot dentist. Trying to laugh it off did not help, and finally the assistant rinsed my mouth and I declared that whatever that stuff was could not go back in my mouth. It tasted like stomach acid. I was apologetic – yet firm with the fact that it wasn’t happening again. Then, in an act that secured my adoration for him, Dr. Hottie asked the assistant to bring in a new chemical which they received as a sample. Lucky for me, with the exception of my tongue imprint, the mold process was successful.
I did learn some important lessons during this particular visit that I don’t think I would have learned anywhere else . . . 1. A woman in California rode the bus and a guy assaulted her by pulling out her two front teeth. I give the guy two more assaults before he evolves into a serial killer He has not yet been caught. 2. My dental center is the newest office; but gets all improvements last in the chain. This is A-OK, though, because it means they are not experimenting new things on patients. 3. Dr. Hottie and his assistant think I am their favourite patient (I may be exaggerating – but not by much). 4. It is not comfortable to have your mouth filled with cotton rolls, followed by expanding play dough-like stuff. 5. ‘Taffy’ is one of the funniest people I have ever met in a dentist office. And she found it funny when I responded with “No worries. It happens sometimes.” to this comment she made: “Here, let me wipe your face off. He spilled that stuff all over your mouth.”
I get to go back in a week to get my permanent crown. Then who knows how long it will be until I get to see my amazing dental duo again. I am a little sad. Though I will be happy not to have my mouth sore from their poking and prodding.
I guess that’s all for now. If you live in the Omaha metropolis and you need a good dentist – and you promise not to reveal my crush, I am happy to give you a referral. One more thing: if ‘Taffy’ did indeed find this blogsite, please pretend you haven’t. LOL
PERSONAL NOTE: I know what you did last summer.
CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: I like you.
if the truth's overdue i know you'll remind me
if the truth police are sniffing out a lie
i've done nothing in life i can't put behind me
i'll use my life as an alibi
~ ‘My Uptight Life’ by Teenage Fanclub
Q: Where do dentists love to vacation?
A: The Mouth of the Mississippi.
(insert laughter here)
That joke was relayed to me via a dental assistant courtesy of a Laffy Taffy wrapper. Granted I was a captive audience and I had no where to run – but, it was funny and I laughed, then cut off my own airway with my tongue as I did all in my power to keep it away from the drill that was working on my tooth yesterday. Even now, as I sit here with a temporary crown (and lots of excess tooth cement() in my mouth, I am nervous about writing this -- since the assistant whom we’ll refer to as ‘Taffy’ for her Laffy Taffy jokes, asked for my blog address yesterday. I said it fast in hopes she will have forgotten it before there was time to write it down. I don’t need her knowing that I enjoy all this special time with the dentist because he is hot. Though, she does work with him, so she already knows he’s hot.
Last night’s visit took almost 2 hours and all of them were spent in the dental chair. A few things happened though, which almost revealed my fondness for Dr. Hottie. The first was my own carelessness. He was looking into my mouth, and I was staring at his brown eyes. He startled me with the question, “Are you watching me work in the reflection of my glasses?” Always quick on my feet, I responded in the affirmative. It was at that point that I actually realized there WAS a reflection to watch. I was saved by the obvious assumption that a patient would not be day dreaming about brown eyes while having teeth drilled. All following issues occurred because I get all giggly and blush bright red when he smiles at me. What a dork I am!
Plus, I have a very guttersnipe mind while lying in that dental chair with my dentist’s hands in my mouth. I didn’t heed his warning when he said, “I’m sorry this isn’t going to taste the best” . . . as he coated my tooth with some liquidy grossness, I was overconfident in my ability to not gag. He really underestimated how bad this stuff tasted . . . the instant it pooled in the back of my throat; I couldn’t breathe and began choking. He had to back up, along with the assistant, because I truly thought I was going to vomit in the chair. I sat up, coughing and sputtering; making that awful ‘ready to throw up’ guttural sound, while praying to the gods that I did not throw up in front of the hot dentist. Trying to laugh it off did not help, and finally the assistant rinsed my mouth and I declared that whatever that stuff was could not go back in my mouth. It tasted like stomach acid. I was apologetic – yet firm with the fact that it wasn’t happening again. Then, in an act that secured my adoration for him, Dr. Hottie asked the assistant to bring in a new chemical which they received as a sample. Lucky for me, with the exception of my tongue imprint, the mold process was successful.
I did learn some important lessons during this particular visit that I don’t think I would have learned anywhere else . . . 1. A woman in California rode the bus and a guy assaulted her by pulling out her two front teeth. I give the guy two more assaults before he evolves into a serial killer He has not yet been caught. 2. My dental center is the newest office; but gets all improvements last in the chain. This is A-OK, though, because it means they are not experimenting new things on patients. 3. Dr. Hottie and his assistant think I am their favourite patient (I may be exaggerating – but not by much). 4. It is not comfortable to have your mouth filled with cotton rolls, followed by expanding play dough-like stuff. 5. ‘Taffy’ is one of the funniest people I have ever met in a dentist office. And she found it funny when I responded with “No worries. It happens sometimes.” to this comment she made: “Here, let me wipe your face off. He spilled that stuff all over your mouth.”
I get to go back in a week to get my permanent crown. Then who knows how long it will be until I get to see my amazing dental duo again. I am a little sad. Though I will be happy not to have my mouth sore from their poking and prodding.
I guess that’s all for now. If you live in the Omaha metropolis and you need a good dentist – and you promise not to reveal my crush, I am happy to give you a referral. One more thing: if ‘Taffy’ did indeed find this blogsite, please pretend you haven’t. LOL
PERSONAL NOTE: I know what you did last summer.
CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: I like you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)