Saturday, July 30, 2005

0+2 = 4

As I reached for the Red Bull, I thought to myself... Wait, you're only here for another two hours. That'll be too much caffeine.

And then I realized that two hours from 8pm is 10pm. I don't get off til midnight.

I have lost the ability to add to four. It's time for some Red Bull.

Little Shop of Horrors??

WTF, I got bit by a *plant* today. It wasn't stinging nettle or anything like that, but it was enough to leave a big ol' trail of welts up my arm, dammit.

side note: I just saw Newman from Seinfeld!

Thursday, July 28, 2005


My husband's coworkers all love trucks (yes, the coworkers with three nipples). The big ol' fatty lifted kind of trucks. The kind where I wonder what the owner is compensating for, and then I discover that the owner is shorter than me.

Husband does not love those trucks. He thinks they are ridiculous. Having been harangued by his coworkers as to why he doesn't love big trucks, he responded:

"I don't have to show people my penis for them to know it's there!"

bitch bitch bitch bitch

I should preface this post by saying that I'm really bitchy at the moment because I have blisters the size of Nebraska on my feet. If my feet were the size of Texas, that is.

Anyhow, tonight we went to the wedding reception of some friends of Husband's from school. They're a really sweet couple, but also very young and somewhat naive. While I wish them well, I'm going to bitch. It's what I do.

I really should just start by saying that I don't like country-themed weddings. I don't think that cowboy boots and a big puffy princess dress go very well together. Even when worn by someone who is trying her best to be picked up as the fourth member of the Dixie Chicks.

I don't like weddings where it is very obvious that the bride is one of *those* brides. You know, the really self-obessed ones. They drive me insane.

I really didn't like the way the bride announced as they were cutting the cake that there would be no smearing. She then waited until she had already been fed by her husband and was safe from being smeared. Then she proceeded to smear *his* piece of cake all over his face. I have never thought that was funny. Her husband also apparently shares my sentiments, judging by the incredibly pissed off look on his face. (My Husband's comment: "And so it begins.")

I also don't like weddings that very obviously cost a very large sum of money and still turn out incredibly chintzy looking.

Maybe I'm pissed off because we managed to have a really classy, beautiful wedding on an incredibly small budget. It took a TON of work on my part, but it was worth it. Then again, maybe I'm pissed off because these little kids had a way bigger wedding allowance than I did.

And at the very end of my bitchy list, I do not like incredibly expensive weddings that offer the guests water that tastes like it came out of a garden hose.



I got a $100 tip today. I have no idea what the hell it was for.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005


I say, "So, Mrs. NameWithheld, we need to talk about your son."

"What about him?" she inquires.

"Well, he just stabbed another child with a screwdriver," I say, trying my hardest not to include expletives in my rendition of the day's events.

"Oh, he did?" she says nonchalantly. "Just go send him to time out for a few minutes."

At that point I say nothing, primarily because I am speechless.

Sometimes I hate parts of myself.

I am a morning person.

On most days, I wake up and get up right away, excited to face a new day and not wanting to waste one minute of sunlight.

Then there are the days like today. Days where I'm awake, but I lay in bed with my eyes shut, wishing I could fall asleep so I wouldn't have to get up and face it. Whatever it happens to be. In most cases, it is nothing at all. I hate those days. They remind me of high school. They remind me of depression.

It's been years and years since I was officially "depressed". It's been years and years since I've had to take medicine for it. It's been years and years since I managed to reclaim my life, a life I'd never fully claimed to begin with.

So damn these days where I'd rather be sleeping than doing anything else. Damn them straight to hell.

I'm going to go outside and play in the sun.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Good Lord, what has happened between me and food??

This afternoon I indulged in some Bit-O-Honey.

This evening I'm indulging in some Tums.

Chernobyl Cheese

How to I tell a very sweet, well-intentioned co-worker that no, in fact, I do not want to have half her sandwich despite the fact that I am starving and have no food. That the plastic cheese I see peeking out of the sandwich nauseates me and that I'm shocked she hasn't turned the same nuclear orange as the plastic cheese she eats?

I tried to mumble out something about no thanks, I'm a natural cheese-atarian, but was shoved half of the sandwich anyways. And I ate it, because while I'm a rude whore here, it may come as a surprise that I generally try to not be rude in real life.

So I ate the sandwich while she watched. Everything was good but the nuclear plastic cheese.


We used to lay in bed at night and listen to the *thump* *thump* *thud* *smack* of the people living in the apartment above us and wonder.

What the *hell* are they doing? It's as if Andre the Giant lived above us!
How much do they weigh?
Can *they* hear *us* having sex? I bet they can.

Then they moved out. But joy!! Today someone else moved in!!

We'll have to give them a real wall-slammer welcome of loud sex tonight.

Is it wrong that I actually think it's funny when we come face to face with these people at church and they make awkward small talk while giving us the look that says "So *these* are the people who have wild, loud sex. I bet they don't know we can hear them."?

It's the end of this job as I know it!

Two more shifts left of Current Job!! WOOO!!!

*i will not let her talk me into doing any more, i will NOT*

Edit: She tried to talk me into doing more shifts, but I demurred. Ok, what I really said was that I didn't have my schedule yet. But she's mailing off my grade tomorrow, so I'll finally be free to JUST SAY NO.

On another note, my sister went to the dentist yesterday. It was really funny to see her mouth numbed to the point where her smile was all saggy on one side and she talked like she was drunk. Also it was funny to sit and poke her numb spot and watch her giggle.

I am the most annoying sister ever.

Monday, July 25, 2005

If I haven't had it in years, it's probably not a good idea to have it now.

You know you've eaten something bad when the ensuing intestinal pain is so intense that you actually have to do labor breathing to get through it.

Note to self: In the future, don't ingest copious amounts of peanut butter.

Friday, July 22, 2005

Spider, he is our Hero!

The other night I was bitten by a spider while I was sleeping. The sneaky bastard bit me right on my boob. Damn it. Now I have a large welt that looks disturbingly like a nipple, hanging out directly above my normal nipple. I am a freak of nature.

While perusing the destruction of my formerly nice boobie in the bathroom mirror, I asked my husband, "Would you still like me if I had three nipples?"

His response: "I would still love you if your boobie fell off!!"

Ah, true love!

(Off topic: Husband works for a family owned business, and all five brothers who own the business have three nipples.)


Ah, Dream Job.

I get all the hot chocolate, tea, pastries and fruit that I want. So I'm going to town on the fruit, and I love it.

Except the part where I get the shits from all the fruit. I don't love that part.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

I am supposed to be tough.


So the dance people, in their attempt to compensate for the building not having air conditioning, set up a TON of fans to help air circulate through the entire building. The trouble is they're circulating every possible night bug into my little desk area.

It's freaking me out.

GOOD HELL, self.... I have drank from stagnant water full of dead floating moths in order to avoid becoming a dead floating thing myself... I've walked for hours through Black Hole with feet so raw I left a blood trail..... I have hiked through the woods in the middle of the night with no light whatsoever having seen the fresh mountain lion tracks in the area a few hours earlier.... I have discovered rotting human remains in a canyon....


This sucks. Now my whole body itches.

Resistance is FUTILE.

There is nothing quite as freaky as 400 people, all country line dancing together.

It reminds me of something. What is it that it reminds me of...?

Oh. Yeah. The Borg.

Country Line Dancing Borg.

Old. Fart.


I'm about to attempt staying up until 1am at work without the aid of caffeine. I don't know if this is going to work.

I sound like such a married old fart, holy hell. *whines* Oh no, I have to stay up past my bedtime, what'll I do?? And all without my walker, hellllp!

Tuesday, July 19, 2005


Would I mind sweeping the floors, you ask, Current Boss? Well, let's see. I didn't sweep floors when I was an intern at the tender age of *16*. The dust in your crappy facility has given me a nasty rash that only goes away over the weekends when I don't work in this hell hole. It's currenly 103° outside and there is no air-conditioning. Not to mention the fact that you've guilt tripped me into working two more shifts than I should have to.

Sure, I'll sweep the floors! With pleasure! Would you like your ass licked clean as well, 'cause I can do that too!

By the way, I sure hope you're going to give me a good grade on my internship, Current Boss!


Last night we went to visit our dear friends in the hospital, as they'd had a baby the day before. Their little girl is adorable- honestly one of the few newborns I've seen that aren't all squished and ugly. (I was one of the squished, ugly ones.)

Honestly, the experience was really freaky. We'd visited them two days before that, and no one was expecting the baby to come for another two weeks.... it's the weirdest thing to visit two people one day and then come back two days later and there are not two but *three* people there. It's like 'Aliens' except instead of a killing machine popping out of your chest, something the size of a bowling ball squeezes its way out your vagina. That is freaky.

So all this morning I've been thinking about our family plans. We were going to try to get pregnant in December, and then we were called to teach the three year olds at church. That was about the best birth control we could have had, as that pushed back our plans by years.

We haven't announced that to my husband's family yet... I'm sure my other sister-in-law who got married less than two months ago (she's already trying and wants to have 13 children... I'm not shitting you...) will be all sorts of pissed off when she finds out we've pushed things back. She already gives me shit for not having a child every time I see her.

When I think about it though, almost all of my friends with children see them as the greatest things that have ever happened to them. I want to be a part of that, to build up a family with my husband.... to watch as my children grow and learn and figure things out like how to smile for the first time.

But then there are the people who view their children as burdens and resent them. These people, for the most part, weren't planning on having children, and are too selfish to realize that part of having children is realizing that you aren't the center of the universe anymore and that play time is over. These people are miserable, and it's tragic to see the ways their children are being more and more screwed up every day because of the things that their parents do.

I am secretly afraid that I am one of those people.

So I guess we'll see what happens. But one thing is for sure- I'm not going to get pregnant until I feel like I can handle what's coming my way. And anyone who doesn't like that (like my grandparents and certain in-laws) can eat me.

Monday, July 18, 2005

Doug, once again, off the juice.

Today at Current Job, I was treated to the experience of being ogled by a 40-something very fat and smelly incarnation of Dan Aykroyd. Very freaky. Very smelly. Very This-Job-Isn't-Worth-That-Crap.

On a more depressing note (I know, how can you get more depressing than a fat, lechy Dan Aykroyd?), I'm counting down the days left stuck in Current Job (3)...... when much to my dismay, my boss (who is beyond aggravating in her Attention To Details That Make No Freaking Difference But Are A Huge Waste Of My Time, or ATDTMNFDBAAHWOMT) lays on the guilt trip really heavily and wants me to stay until they find a replacement for me.

Why? WHY, GOD, WHY???

Saturday, July 16, 2005


I met my husband at work. We were doing tech support/customer service stuff for this big ol' evil company. Naturally, as little CSR Bitches, we were all farmed out in an endless field of cubicles. As soon as our managers discovered we were dating they a.) tried to fire us; and b.) immediately moved me about 7,500 cubicles away from my husband. It was ok though- we conversed all day, every day through MSN Messenger, which I still love for that sort of thing.

Anyhow, I'm sitting here at Current Job (which explains my over-exhuberant posting for today) and he just text messaged me something funny so funny that I actually laughed out loud (causing people to stare at me, but whatever. At least they're not staring at my sweat-printy ass.), and I told him as much. He sent me back another message that that was one of the things he missed most about when we worked together- every time he'd message me something funny, he could hear me laugh from all the way on the other side of the massive cavern we knew as work.

That made me smile.

Miss Piggy Utah 2005

HAHAH, so I just found a new funny site. If you wander around Utah for any amount of time, you'll notice that many of the cookie-cutter little white kids have inexplicable names. Names that guarantee their parents into the White Trash Utah Hall of Fame.

So here you have it: The Utah Baby Namer

The best part- while rambling through the site, only to discover the name of my cousin-in-law, Amberly. She is indeed white trash, being very fat and bearing a startling resemblance to Miss Piggy. And I have often wondered where the hell her mother came up with that crap name. Now I know!

Just what is a pengalin?

I got the term 'pengalin' from something my sister told me a long time ago. She had gone to the Zoo in some inner-city somewhere, and as she was approaching the penguin exhibit, she noticed the cutest little girl dragging her mom and saying, "Pengalins, mama! I wanna see the pengalins!!"

I have not been able to say the word 'penguin' since.

The next Gaultier

My husband walked by this morning as I was getting ready and I took the opportunity to snag him. (He has a smattering of uni-hairs that try really hard to be a uni-brow but just aren't substantive enough. I take care of the area, but noticed one little bastard hair mocking me.)

"I've gotta take care of something," I said, reaching toward his face with my tweezers.

And then something shocking happened. Instead of running away, he actually leaned forward.

"Oh *that* thing," he said. "The uni-hair. Yeah, get rid of that." So I plucked the offending hair and we were both happy.

Then he mused, "I don't know why that one grows twice as fast as any of the others do."

"Well, what do you think?" I asked.

He responded, "I think it's trying to be a trendsetter."

Friday, July 15, 2005

Where the hell did the milk wander off to??

Well, here I am again, trying my best to get another sweat stain on my ass. I'm at Current Job and I'm so tired I want to gouge my eyes out, which means in my language that I want to take a nap. Why am I so tired? Here's my Friday:

6:30am to 1:00pm Dream Job (First Day!!)
2:00pm to 9: 30pm Current Job

I have some liquid gold, aka Red Bull, but I'm hesistant to imbibe, since I'm so tired that I worry it'll only leave me really tired and really wired at the same time, which sucks ass more than just being really tired. I owe all this to my wonderful Body. Here's a snippet of the conversation I tried to have with my Body last night:

Me: Body, I have to get up at 5:30am tomorrow so I can go to my first day of Dream Job. This is really important to me, so we need to get a really good night's sleep tonight.

Body: Fuck you, dill weed!! I want to stay up all night and I'm gonna, so you can just eat me!

Me: But Body, won't you be really tired too if you do that?

Body: BRING IT ON!!! I'll take it right up the ass without lube if it'll piss you off!!!

You can imagine how my night went.

Here's a glimpse into my morning: I get out the milk, go pour myself some cereal, forget that I've gotten out the milk, go open the refridgerator to get the milk, and then stand there for a few minutes looking at the milkless fridge, wondering where the milk went. My day hasn't gotten much better. Except for the few hours I went to Dream Job, where I somehow managed to get my shit together. My shit is now no longer together.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Test Question

One of the questions from my test:

The scrotum has the following purpose:
A. To hold the ovaries
B. To prevent STDs
C. To hold the testes
D. To be used as a small change purse

I am not shitting you. Except for D, I couldn't remember the actual D, but it was just as inane. The D listed above was contributed by my dad, who also couldn't believe they would ask that on a test.

So much for the "Harvard of the West". Holy shit, BYU, pull yourself together!

I'm a lumberjack and I'm ok!

Well, another attempt to procrastinate has been thwarted. My fix of ER has been denied, as TNT has been taken over by golfing. I'm not that desperate.

But I did discover that ESPN has been transformed into a tribute to lumberjacks!

Even the lumberjacks aren't enough. To hell with it, I might as well get on with my day. Where's the caffeine?

Oh, and I've opened up comments. After talking to one of my friends, I figured I might as well.

No Testy, Need Sleepy

There is a test I must take today.
No, test, no.
I do not like you, Sam I am.
I do like napping and green eggs and ham.
But not all at the same time.

So there you have it, my exceedingly lame attempt to procrastinate having to take this test. I don't really care about the test per se... I would just rather be sleeping. Oh well, I'd best get my ass out of the house *before* it gets to be triple digit hot.

Trivial: Last night my husband took me out for some dinner... when we came out at 10:30pm, I looked at one of those bank thermometer thingies as it flashed that it was 90° outside. I remember thinking, 'Ah... this feels so nice.'

What the hell?? 90° at 10:30pm? And the day had been so dreadfully hot that I actually thought 90° felt nice? How screwed up is that?

One Wish: Snow

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Vintage Asshole, aged 16 years.

I hate teenagers. The little bastards sit and wait for you to turn your back on them for one second so they can dick around. Then, when you don't take your eyes off them, they give you this look that says, "What the hell, I'm not doing anything! Turn around so I can do something!" If you let them know what the rules are, all of a sudden you are oppressing them.

I was not a perfect teenager. But I didn't spend my spare time trying to be a total dick. I had more important things to do.

Take it or leave it, kids. If you don't like the rules then FUCKING LEAVE, YOU ASSHATS.

ass print

Can I reiterate how excited I am for Dream Job? This time it's for a different reason, though.

Air Conditioning.

My current job is in a big ol' building with no air conditioning. Here I sit, desperately longing for each pass of the little fan, wondering if ass sweat is visible through my thin, cool hiking pants yet. I bet it is. The next time I stand up, I'm gonna have a bunch of teenage punks pointing and lauging at the sweat-print of my ass showing through my pants.

My husband, at this very moment, is hanging out with some friends on a boat on Utah Lake. Bitches.

HAHA, I was about to write something along the lines of how I love working out in the morning because it leaves me in such a good mood all day. Needless to say, when it's over 100° outside, all bets regarding my mood later on are off.

Holy shit, I can't wait for ski season to start. dammit.

I'm a snowbunny for a reason.

It is 101 degrees in Provo today.

This sucks.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Thank Heaven for Small Favors

Today I talked to "the Ex" (if MSN Messenger counts as talking?). Almost everyone has one of these, it's that monumental Ex that shook your whole life to pieces and you're lucky to have put it back together.

Now, to make sure no one is confused, this monumental shaking took place four years ago and I'm very happily married to a man I've been with for the last three years. I have no feelings for the Ex at all except disgust, pity, and sometimes humor in relation to the situation he now finds himself in.

See, this man was a terrible, terrible man. I had convinced myself that I was in love with him (even though I had no idea what real love was) and that he loved me and we would have this perfect life together. Trouble was, none of that was true. I didn't love him and he certainly didn't love me, as he proved time and time again with the sadistic emotional torture he was so adept at giving. I wasted years of my life on that man.

Why did I stay? I was suffering from Battered Wife Syndrome but had no idea of that at the time. Only through counseling and a TON of self-introspection was I able to figure that out, which really helped me get closure.

Anyhow, at about the time I was mopping up my life (with the help of my husband, who is the most gentle, forgiving, patient, studly man ever), Ex was getting into a mess with another girl. He'd decided there was no more reason to control his libido, so he was screwing this poor fat woman because she was the easiest ass he could come up with. (Note: He actually told me that at the time.)

Ms. EasyAss was a twice-divorced very large mother of two and Ex was a lacrosse player in fairly decent shape. While he was boning ("dating") Ms. EasyAss he would try to convince me to somehow reconsider our relationship, even though I was engaged at that point. He told me that Ms. EasyAss was only that, Easy Ass, and he didn't like her anyways and he missed me and wished he could have another go in the sack with me.

The funny part about that was that he made the above sack statement to me IN THE PRESENCE OF MY SOON-TO-BE-HUSBAND. Holy Shit, Ex, how much more desperate could you be?? (For those who wonder, my husband is not a typical Alpha Male, and so he thought that Ex's statement was hilarious and pathetic, instead of having the lame Alpha Male response of I'm Gonna Kick Your Ass!!!)

Well, to make this long-ass story as short as I can, Ex wound up getting Ms. EasyAss pregnant. He decided that, to avoid embarrassment for himself (his family is extremely religious), he'd marry her and pretend that they just had a premature birth (which, by the way, doesn't work if you get married in July and give birth in January to a 10 pound baby... apparently Ex and EasyAss can't add). So now Ex finds himself the father of three at the ripe ol' age of 26. He works three jobs and is the housekeeper to boot. EasyAss, being very large, doesn't like to cook or clean.

Ex whines constantly about how he never has alone time anymore and he can never do what he wants to do and how it really sucks having a really fat wife who refuses to do anything about it.

Poor Ex.

Anyways, when we talked today, he showed me a picture of their baby girl. She looks exactly like him, and holy hell, she is ugly.

So in summary, I'm really glad I didn't wind up with the abusive bastard, because it would really suck to be an abused wife *and* have a really ugly baby.

Monday, July 11, 2005


So I've now been officially bestowed with the Dream Job. SCORE.

But for the next two weeks, I'll be working the new Dream Job as well as the Crappy Old Job, plus trying to go to school full time. So if I'm a little quiet, that's why.

I'm so happy right now. Content enough to just sit here in the breeze of the fan and just be.

Plus I'm stoked about the gym- my sister and I signed up today and soon I'll be running my little heart out on a moving surface that goes nowhere. Much like a hamster in a wheel. But really I'm just excited about the thrill of getting into shape again. I was so fit when I met my husband, but years of him wooing me by taking me out to eat on a daily basis have taken their toll. It's time. Time for a change. Time to make my life even better.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Bitch of the Day

Mr. Dick Provo Police Officer, who pulled us over for no reason at all (that no reason being a broken taillight), and then threatened to give us a 'fix it' ticket after I asked why he had pulled us over.

You were a giant dick. A giant dick again compensating for a lack of something elsewhere.

But hey, you're the Bitch of the Day!

Musings on Male Anatomy

It's really funny how many words we'll make up just so we don't have to say the word 'penis'. Like:

hoo - my husband's word for it
peno - my sister's
beedis - my dad's
dongle - the two-year-old son of my best friend

Friday, July 08, 2005

Bitch of the Day

Here's to you, Little Man Who Compensates By Driving A Huge Truck.

Yeah, you- the one who felt the need to ride my ass because I was *only* going 10 miles over the speed limit. The Little Man who didn't need to use the COMPLETELY EMPTY lane next to him.

Yeah, I'm talking about you, Little Man. You're the Bitch of the Day!

Spoiled Rotten

My sister (who kicks untold ass) bought me this Lodis wallet. It's a vast improvement on my old wallet, which was nothing. She got tired of seeing me grope through my endless cache of loose cards to find whichever one I was looking for.

Amanda, you rock.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Damn you, Hershey!

This morning I rolled my sorry ass out of bed and padded into the bathroom, hoping for a miracle. Alas, there was no miracle to be found, only a zit so big it had replaced my entire chin.

I figured that, since my chin had been replaced by something resembling a Hershey's Kiss (although not chocolatey and full of goodness), I'd wear a paper bag on my head to my interview today.

The very nice woman who interviewed me even complimented the bag, and it must've done the trick. Half an hour later, while I was on the phone dissecting the interview with my friend, she called and offered me the job!

Ah, I am now a career woman. But don't worry, the days of photocopying various body parts on the copy machine are far from over.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005


In the course of a few minutes, my chin has managed to sprout a zit the size of a dime. Holy hell. Let's not talk about how the most important interview of my life is TOMORROW.

Happy Birthday, me!! And here I thought I wasn't going to get any presents today!