My pet peeves. Not a long list. But a good one, or bad one I guess, depending on how you look at it.
1. public restrooms that smell like strangers' asses. I can take it if one of my friends leaves something dead in the bathroom at my house, but if it's a stranger and not my bathroom, it makes me want to puke.
2. other people's dogs. Ok... I like dogs. I do. I even like most of my friends' dogs. If a strangers dog licks me it's disgusting. If it's a dog I love, it can lick me on the lips and it's all good.
3. that ice cream makes you fat. That just sucks.
4. people that are SO against a particular thing or person, that they rule out acceptance as a whole. It's all well and good to believe in something, but when it makes you violently against something else, someone has become a little misguided, and here's a hint... it ain't me.
5. that love is hard. Things do not go as planned. It will find you when it wants to, and it is not necessarily going to be logical.
6. cat poop. This is self-explanatory.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Thursday, May 18, 2006
I'm a Love Tool.
Anyone ever been heartbroken? Yeah… me neither.
Ok, now that we're done lying to ourselves, I've had my heart broken numerous times. My first "true love" was when I was 17 and 18 and when we broke up I was convinced that life was over and I would never and could never love again.
Needless to say that was not my last relationship, I have had the fortune to date a handful of guys in the 11 year interim, and yes, a good share of them broke me yet again. I may have done a little breaking too, you'd have to ask them, but I think it kind of all evens out.
When you fall in love the first time it is not necessarily that everything is perfect or fairy-tale-ish, but that you feel like soul mates. You can be ridiculous together and not feel self-conscious or like a dumb-ass. You have enough in common to really be able to enjoy your time together… and of course you're attracted to each other enough to want to hump like rabbits.
Love like THAT may only happen once in a lifetime. I was under that impression for about 10 years. I assumed that the amazing feeling of unconditional love that I had given and received could never be re-created in that way, but I was wrong. Last year I met someone and fell madly in love with them. It was completely irrational and ridiculous, we are 10 years apart and this was his first serious relationship. While I can say now (after the relationship is over) that I am not trying to rekindle that relationship, it's brief existence reminded me that you CAN have all those things in one person.
It is possible to have someone be as crazy about you as you are about them.
That sole truth is what has led me to accept all the heartbreak. I am a very emotional person and it's true that I have had a hard time letting go of all the pain that I feel was dealt to me in various breakups, but it was all worth it to experience whatever the next relationship turns out to be.
For awhile I thought I was just another "learning tool" to all these guys… they end up treating the next girl fantastically and leave me wondering why they couldn't learn the lesson in the context of the relationship, but now I am happy to have blessed them in whatever way I did. I am good friends with the majority of my exes and their now-spouse or girl-friend, and very happy for them. Would I have wanted to ultimately end up with them forever? Looking back now I can generally say no… so there is no harm, no foul.
It's not so bad to be a Love Tool. Just as long as I'm not JUST a tool!
Ok, now that we're done lying to ourselves, I've had my heart broken numerous times. My first "true love" was when I was 17 and 18 and when we broke up I was convinced that life was over and I would never and could never love again.
Needless to say that was not my last relationship, I have had the fortune to date a handful of guys in the 11 year interim, and yes, a good share of them broke me yet again. I may have done a little breaking too, you'd have to ask them, but I think it kind of all evens out.
When you fall in love the first time it is not necessarily that everything is perfect or fairy-tale-ish, but that you feel like soul mates. You can be ridiculous together and not feel self-conscious or like a dumb-ass. You have enough in common to really be able to enjoy your time together… and of course you're attracted to each other enough to want to hump like rabbits.
Love like THAT may only happen once in a lifetime. I was under that impression for about 10 years. I assumed that the amazing feeling of unconditional love that I had given and received could never be re-created in that way, but I was wrong. Last year I met someone and fell madly in love with them. It was completely irrational and ridiculous, we are 10 years apart and this was his first serious relationship. While I can say now (after the relationship is over) that I am not trying to rekindle that relationship, it's brief existence reminded me that you CAN have all those things in one person.
It is possible to have someone be as crazy about you as you are about them.
That sole truth is what has led me to accept all the heartbreak. I am a very emotional person and it's true that I have had a hard time letting go of all the pain that I feel was dealt to me in various breakups, but it was all worth it to experience whatever the next relationship turns out to be.
For awhile I thought I was just another "learning tool" to all these guys… they end up treating the next girl fantastically and leave me wondering why they couldn't learn the lesson in the context of the relationship, but now I am happy to have blessed them in whatever way I did. I am good friends with the majority of my exes and their now-spouse or girl-friend, and very happy for them. Would I have wanted to ultimately end up with them forever? Looking back now I can generally say no… so there is no harm, no foul.
It's not so bad to be a Love Tool. Just as long as I'm not JUST a tool!
Thursday, May 11, 2006
5th Grade Sucked
Ferrets are pretty cool, if you like them. I think they are very entertaining. My cousin has a ferret named Farrah, after Farrah Fawcett.
In fourth and fifth grade, our classroom had a ferret. I don't remember the ferret's name, I just remember that it was a source of entertainment for the class. It was also a source of trauma for me.
Starting in fourth grade I had a nemesis. I may have been a little young for a nemesis, but I had one, just the same. Her name was Thea. I was very skinny growing up and after somehow offending Thea one afternoon, she called me the worst thing she could think of... "You, you... you Ethiopian Fatso!!!". Crushing, let me tell you. I was actually able to laugh that one off because it was kind of ridiculous.
The following year, however, things got much worse. For whatever reason, Thea took our ongoing feud to new and glorious heights. She decided to start sabotaging my sack lunches. I don't remember ALL of the atrocities I would discover in my mashed-bean-and-pickle sandwiches, but there were rubber-cement boogers, shreds of paper, and paper clips. The ultimate horror was the day I discovered the ferret turds. From then on, I had to give the teacher my lunch and have it locked in her desk drawer until lunchtime.
Eventually the war solved itself, probably because we combined efforts against a much more formidable foe - Lisa. By eighth grade, Thea and I were friends and busy defending ourselves from the "You stole my gap v-neck sweater!" assaults after P.E. class.
In fourth and fifth grade, our classroom had a ferret. I don't remember the ferret's name, I just remember that it was a source of entertainment for the class. It was also a source of trauma for me.
Starting in fourth grade I had a nemesis. I may have been a little young for a nemesis, but I had one, just the same. Her name was Thea. I was very skinny growing up and after somehow offending Thea one afternoon, she called me the worst thing she could think of... "You, you... you Ethiopian Fatso!!!". Crushing, let me tell you. I was actually able to laugh that one off because it was kind of ridiculous.
The following year, however, things got much worse. For whatever reason, Thea took our ongoing feud to new and glorious heights. She decided to start sabotaging my sack lunches. I don't remember ALL of the atrocities I would discover in my mashed-bean-and-pickle sandwiches, but there were rubber-cement boogers, shreds of paper, and paper clips. The ultimate horror was the day I discovered the ferret turds. From then on, I had to give the teacher my lunch and have it locked in her desk drawer until lunchtime.
Eventually the war solved itself, probably because we combined efforts against a much more formidable foe - Lisa. By eighth grade, Thea and I were friends and busy defending ourselves from the "You stole my gap v-neck sweater!" assaults after P.E. class.
Friday, May 05, 2006
The Magical Avocado
Today is Cinco de Mayo. Being a good American, I celebrated this opportunity to eat guacamole and chips all day at work with great gusto.
We have an assistant in our office that is half Mexican, so she added to the festivities today by forcing us to listen to a radio station en espanol all day. I closed my door and listened to I-tunes, but that is beside the point.
For our office potluck today, I was charged with the Guacamole assignment, should I choose to accept. I brought in 6 lovely and perfectly ripe avocados, some LaVictoria Verde Salsa, lime juice, garlic powder and Lawry's seasoning salt.
I combined the appropriate amounts of the ingredients and put out a beautiful beaming bowl of the green goodness at about 10:30 this morning. I just now put it in the fridge at 4:10pm and it was STILL GREEN.
I was told by a co-worker this morning to leave a pit in the guacamole and it would stay green, so I did. And it worked. And I am mystified. I see no scientific chemical reason why this should be so but I looked at living proof all day long.
I tried Googling "why does the guacamole stay green with an avocado seed in it?" and only came up with numerous sites telling me that it does NOT work at all. That is a lie. My guacamole is still green.
Explain this to me, Scully!
We have an assistant in our office that is half Mexican, so she added to the festivities today by forcing us to listen to a radio station en espanol all day. I closed my door and listened to I-tunes, but that is beside the point.
For our office potluck today, I was charged with the Guacamole assignment, should I choose to accept. I brought in 6 lovely and perfectly ripe avocados, some LaVictoria Verde Salsa, lime juice, garlic powder and Lawry's seasoning salt.
I combined the appropriate amounts of the ingredients and put out a beautiful beaming bowl of the green goodness at about 10:30 this morning. I just now put it in the fridge at 4:10pm and it was STILL GREEN.
I was told by a co-worker this morning to leave a pit in the guacamole and it would stay green, so I did. And it worked. And I am mystified. I see no scientific chemical reason why this should be so but I looked at living proof all day long.
I tried Googling "why does the guacamole stay green with an avocado seed in it?" and only came up with numerous sites telling me that it does NOT work at all. That is a lie. My guacamole is still green.
Explain this to me, Scully!
Thursday, May 04, 2006
What Makes It Tahitian?
I am enjoying a blended Tahitian Vanilla Latte from Brewed Awakenings. Blended means it has been mashed up with ice to make it soft and cold and kind of foamy. Vanilla I understand. Latte I understand. But what makes it Tahitian?
I tried to look up the website for this lovely coffee purveyor and discovered that while there are several of them in my hometown, there are thousands of coffee shops all over known as Brewed Awakenings that are not the same chain. I was hoping for a magical description that would make me feel tropical as I sip my tasty beverage, but it was not to be.
So, I googled Tahiti. "Oral history recounts the adventures of gods and warriors in colorful legends where javelin throwing was the sport of the gods..." Does this mean I will find a tiny javelin in the bottom of my drink? I hope not.
Does anyone in Tahiti drink a Vanilla Latte? The closest Starbucks are in Hawaii and New Zealand, which is a bit of a trip. I can't imagine that if someone FROM Tahiti came here, ordered one of these concoctions from the local B.A (B.A. - ha ha ha) they would say "mmmmm, tastes like home..."
Ah, the mysteries of the universe.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Fear of Dentists?
I grew up having no fear of the dentist. My paternal grandfather is a retired dentist, and he was always very gentle when looking at my teeth.
My nightly tooth-brushing routine went something like this: 1. lock myself in the bathroom 2. run the water in the sink for a few minutes while I sat on the edge of the tub 3. wet my toothbrush and put it away 4. if I was feeling REALLY motivated, I would put a tiny dab of toothpaste on my tongue so as to smell minty-fresh.
Combined with the amount of candy I consumed from about 7th grade through high-school, I am now paying the price.
Yes, I brush my teeth daily. Twice. I even floss a few times a week. That has not saved me from developing cavities now in the Later Years and even two dreaded root canals.
I was tricked. My first root canal was necessitated by a fantastic mountain bike crash when I was 13. I was on the mountain bike, but not-so-much on a mountain... my aunt and I had ridden into town to get the mail and on the way back I woke up with my face ground into the gravel and my bike on top of me. They sewed up my lip at the hospital, courtesy of the local plastic surgeon, and then we took a trip to the dentist where I was told that the tooth would die eventually and I would probably end up with a root canal later in life.
Later In Life was a couple of years ago. Since the tooth was totally dead.. nerve and all, the root canal was a breeze. The worst part was the shot in the mouth to numb anything that wasn't already dead, and then it was all just fun and games. I healed very quickly and the posting and crowing procedures were no sweat.
Then a few months ago I started having some pain in my right upper jaw when I would step with my right foot. I decided to have it checked out, and they discovered that there was infection hiding out above my tooth (a whole different tooth, mind you) and we needed to do a Root Canal!!! Yay!
No problem, I thought... I've done this before and it was easy-peasy. Apparently infected flesh does not react to numbing agents and chemicles in the same was as healthy flesh. So the whole proceedure was HoRRIBLe! I had two anesthetic shots and almost a third but we finished just in time. Couldn't bite down for 4 days and had to be careful not to put my teeth together when I sneezed.
Today, I am going back. They will put a tiny screw up through the middle of my tooth into my jaw and screw it in with a tiny screwdriver. Pretty cool. If you see me this evening and I'm crying, you'll know why.
My nightly tooth-brushing routine went something like this: 1. lock myself in the bathroom 2. run the water in the sink for a few minutes while I sat on the edge of the tub 3. wet my toothbrush and put it away 4. if I was feeling REALLY motivated, I would put a tiny dab of toothpaste on my tongue so as to smell minty-fresh.
Combined with the amount of candy I consumed from about 7th grade through high-school, I am now paying the price.
Yes, I brush my teeth daily. Twice. I even floss a few times a week. That has not saved me from developing cavities now in the Later Years and even two dreaded root canals.
I was tricked. My first root canal was necessitated by a fantastic mountain bike crash when I was 13. I was on the mountain bike, but not-so-much on a mountain... my aunt and I had ridden into town to get the mail and on the way back I woke up with my face ground into the gravel and my bike on top of me. They sewed up my lip at the hospital, courtesy of the local plastic surgeon, and then we took a trip to the dentist where I was told that the tooth would die eventually and I would probably end up with a root canal later in life.
Later In Life was a couple of years ago. Since the tooth was totally dead.. nerve and all, the root canal was a breeze. The worst part was the shot in the mouth to numb anything that wasn't already dead, and then it was all just fun and games. I healed very quickly and the posting and crowing procedures were no sweat.
Then a few months ago I started having some pain in my right upper jaw when I would step with my right foot. I decided to have it checked out, and they discovered that there was infection hiding out above my tooth (a whole different tooth, mind you) and we needed to do a Root Canal!!! Yay!
No problem, I thought... I've done this before and it was easy-peasy. Apparently infected flesh does not react to numbing agents and chemicles in the same was as healthy flesh. So the whole proceedure was HoRRIBLe! I had two anesthetic shots and almost a third but we finished just in time. Couldn't bite down for 4 days and had to be careful not to put my teeth together when I sneezed.
Today, I am going back. They will put a tiny screw up through the middle of my tooth into my jaw and screw it in with a tiny screwdriver. Pretty cool. If you see me this evening and I'm crying, you'll know why.
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