freeze tag

"Six Weird Habits and/or Strange Things About Myself..."
1. I can write legibly (in print and in cursive), draw, and pick things up with my foot. It's a fun party trick.
2. I have had the same wart on my pinky finger since I was sixteen years old.
3. I haven't eaten eggs as a meal since I was about five years old. But I'll eat things dipped in eggs sometimes...I can rationalize that by convincing myself it's just a binder for the breading and therefore you can't really taste the egg.
4. I have a weird belly-button. I had a hernia when I was a baby that had to be surgically repaired and they sewed my belly button up so that it's all puckered. And hard to clean.
5. I've never lived in one place for longer than four years.
6. I often wish that I had a tail. And not like a dog or cat tail, but a spider-monkey tail. It would HAVE to be a spider-monkey tail.

prolific

I got my very first sunburn of the season yesterday. YAY FOR SUMMER PREVIEWS!!! No, seriously...YAY, I'm stoked that summer is just around the corner. Most people are surprised that I sunburn. In fact yesterday I heard, "Wow, you're like a white-girl!" and "I didn't think you could because of...you know...your type of skin and all." and my personal pet-fucking peeve, "Oh, I'm surprised, I didn't think people of your nationality got sun-burned." ARGGHHHHH! Now, I know most of the people who come here and smart enough to know better...but dammit there IS a difference between nationality, ethnicity, and race. I don't know why being a U.S. citizen would have any relation to my ability or inability to sunburn. GARRRRR!

recognition

HAPPY LAB WEEK! This means for one week out of fifty-two, we'll get free popcorn and sodie-pop to remind us that being the designated hospital asshole isn't ALWAYS so bad.

fight club

I have a very small mental filter and I'm pretty open about my life and its goings-on (I DO have a blog for crying out loud). Yesterday, I realized though that often I tell people things because I need to be reassured that my reactions and feelings about things aren't crazy or completely irrational. So I told three people the same story about something that happened this weekend. The first person thought I was a little crazy and irrational (but that's because she's dead inside)...but the next two people were like, "(*rapid intake of breath*) Oh my god, she said what?!? (*indignant pause*) And he did what?!?! (*tongue clucking*) Of course you were upset sweetie, I would be too! And THEN what happened!?!? (*dramatic pause*) NOOOOOOO!!!!" And then I felt a lot better because my behavior doesn't seem quite as inappropriate when everybody is agreeing with me. Of course that could just mean that I also surround myself by hyperreactive drama-queens who lie well enough that I believe them when they say I'm not being insane, but that seems pretty a-okay too.

tease

Oh Mother Nature, why do you mock me? Knowing I work every other weekend, why must you make the weather so glorious on the days I have to spend the day in the third pit of hell? Is it because I used to use toxic weed killer on my sidewalk because I was too lazy to dig them out? Whatever it is, I'm sorry. Please let me have a good weather stretch on my days off. And on a vaguely related note, for some strange reason, the maintenace people changed all the lightbulbs in the factory of bodily fluid doom known as my job recently. It is so freaking BRIGHT down there now. And that would be good if it wasn't that barfugly fluorescent lighting like they use in dressing rooms at Wal-mart, you know...the kind that somehow manages to make you look peaked and at the same time exaggerate the grooves and contours of each and every ass dimple you have. I think they thought it would perk us up, but really all it did was make us feel cagey and paranoid. We're like those creepy lab-testing rodents now, though that actually may have been the point.

resurface

During my final years of high school, I hung out with a rag-tag bunch of misfits lovingly nicknamed The Splinter Group by our English teacher (though I can't remember what book that name came from). Throughout the years the five of us fell in and out of touch, as happens with most era specific friends. Before I moved back to Washington permanently, four of us made an annual effort to see one another. But one of us, well after about 1999...nobody knew what had happened to her, as far as we knew she had completely fallen off of the face of the earth. I would often contemplate going to the house she lived in during school to see if her parents still lived there, and maybe then find out what had happened to her. But I think I was always a little afraid that it would be bad news...so I never did, avoidance often seems like the better option. Then yesterday, Kanani writes to me to tell me that she found Amy on MySpace of all places and I've already gotten a message from her. It's mindboggling to think that somebody who I haven't heard from in over seven years was just waiting to be found on some sliver of cyberspace.

hard to do

I've been thinking about that song, "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do." Mostly because I think I might have to break up with somebody who has a fair amount of importance in my life. We haven't shared a lot of time together, but it has been quality time, time I've really appreciated. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think I'm making a HUGE mistake. You see, I might be breaking up with my stylist and I'm almost convinced that the hair-stylist breakup is harder than any other type of breakup. And it's going to be an even harder thing than usual because her girlfriend just moved into my building and I see her all the time. In fact, last night we had a conversation about my hair looking scraggly, being stuck in ponytail mode, and my needing to come in and get something done with it. But the thing is...on Friday, I'm totally going to be cheating on her, I'm trying out a new guy. And for the worst reasons, he's cheaper, I don't have to go as far since he does hair down the block from me, and several of my friends go to him. So not only am I a lazy tightwad...but I'm a follower too.

puppy power

My poor little Iniki, the last two nights in a row he's had petite mal seizures in the middle of the night. It's so sad to watch because there's nothing you can do and he just lays there drooling and twitching. And then when it's all done, he must feel guilty for having made a mess because he tries to lick up his drool. It's heart-breaking. He's such the little champ!

blue monday

I'm trying to have some perspective about the shortness of weekends. I keep trying to tell myself that a hundred years ago, people worked six-seven days a week for twelve to fourteen hours a day. So by comparison, my five day week of a measly eight hours shouldn't seem that bad. But my headache compounded with exhaustion are telling me something completely different. Then the question becomes, was it worth it? Does the time I got to spend with my friends and mah fella (who I won't get everybody all gaggy about by gushing) and yet another awesome Creme make it all worth it? And I leave you with the only response possible to that question...hell yeah!

yearly

Why does the word anniversary have to have the whole flowers and champagne connotation? Not all anniversaries are fun and happy. Some anniversaries are annual pilgramages to the place called inner turmoil and the land of regret. So to hell with Cadbury eggs and plastic grass.

revolution

Got this quiz over at Hopelessly Average. What Famous Leader Are You?

good vibes

I love my extended network of friends and acquaintances. There is just something so rewarding about going somewhere and being greeted with warm hugs and big genuine smiles. Even though I rarely have the opportunity to spend time with my friends because of my schedule, I cherish whatever time I do get with them. Especially when I'm a little snockered.

happenstance

I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason, I rarely chalk things up to coincidence (I get a little spacey like that sometimes). Therefore, the fact that in a city the size of Seattle, in the middle of the day, while taking my dog on his daily walk, less than 48 hours after the revelation...I fucking walk across the EXACT SAME girl the post below is talking about...well, it's got me curious.

ugly head

I don't know that I'm a really jealous person. I mean, I don't think I'm any more or any less jealous than the next person, despite my insecurities. Jealousy is such a strange thing at any rate, you never know when it's going to strike or who will inspire it for that matter. I got jealous last night. If you've been following this blog, you'll remember that I chased my fella for a while and one time witnessed him making out with some girl...who he then went on a few dates with and at some point she decided she didn't want to continue whatever it was they were doing. But recently, she's come back and has been emailing him and wanting to "hang out" again...as friends of course (picture skeptical raised eyebrow and lip raising). And I guess he said yes, they could hang out as friends (picture completely raised eyebrows and mouth in a tight little grimace). And I am a little upset and jealous about it. Actually, I think it's a little disrespectful, which is the main motivation for my jealousy and feeling upset. I don't have any issues with his other relationships with people of the female variety, but this situation is maddening. And I don't know how to deal with it...or with myself for having these feelings.