I’m having an icky day. When I look at myself in the mirror I know that I’m not hideous but I feel hideous. Forcing my ass into a cute outfit was no small feat and half of my closet is piled on my bed to prove it.
I can’t figure out if this funk is what happens when you make crazy decisions about your life and move someplace where winter is long and cold, or if this is to be blamed on my ovaries. Either way, I’m fucking over it.
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Categories:frumpasaurus
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Warning: If you have problems with what my father calls “water closet talk,” please skip this post.
My OCD trouble began when I was traumatized at my first post-high school job. I worked in a small office (just two of us). My male boss and I shared a bathroom. Can you tell where this is going?
I didn’t have trouble with fecal related issues before discovering a very large, very hairy turd that my boss left in the toilet. The most horrific part; there was no toilet paper. NO TOILET PAPER! Who does that?! I mean, leaving a gigantic piece of shit in a toilet is hands-down disgusting, but not even taking the time to wipe your own ass? WHO DOES THAT?! That is some serious filthiness to not bother wiping your own butthole.
From there my mental state deteriorated when I realized that someone who couldn’t be bothered to wipe their own butthole would surely not be caught up with pesky habits like hand washing. I fell apart when I looked around the cramped, overstuffed office and realized that everything around me was surely contaminated with filthy no-butthole-wiping-no-hand-washing fecal matter.
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Categories:Assholes, crap, dumb, Found, Memory, Poop
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I wanted to write about how we my mum celebrated my birthday this year by burning a flag, but I’ve been really busy cutting myself working on a dumb assignment annotated bibliography. So instead, I offer up a Deep Thought my friend Zanny sent me thirteen years ago. Holy crap, that makes me feel old.
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Categories:too busy
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“I’m late for school, no time to wash these grapes.”
“If you’re worried about fecal matter, there’s not really anything you can do to wash them, outside of cleaning them with rubbing alcohol.”
“FECAL MATTER?”
“Oops, sorry! I forgot about your problem.”
“You know how I get.”
“All I was saying was that fecal matter…”
“STOP IT!”
“It’s just that fecal matter…”
“Why do you do this to me?”
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Categories:crap, mid-thirties teenage angst
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I’ve decided to revive the ol’ Fully Klothed Thursday. Why? Because it’s fucking rad, that’s why. Plus I get to show off my mad snow shoveling skillz.
This lovely photo was taken a few weeks back. I stopped shoveling the driveway to give my mother a big thumbs down. I was less than happy that morning when I awoke to two feet of snow and didn’t start shoveling until I had thrown a proper tantrum. That shovel in the bottom left hand corner is my dad helping me clear the driveway, no doubt, because he was fearful I’d say something highly inappropriate in front of a neighbor on the sabbath. (Which I did – I don’t think they appreciated “fuck me Jesus” nearly as much as I did.)
Clothing count on my bad ass: 1. polar fleece cap 2. sunglasses 3. iPod (yes it counts, keeps my ears warm) 4. gloves 5. tank top 6. t-shirt 7. sweatshirt 8. sweat pants 9. pajama pants (yes, it was THAT cold) 10. Smart Wool socks (they’re the best, AROUND!) 11. boots 12. pants(!) 13. sports bra numero uno 14. sports bra numero dos.
This week the weather has been much nicer. Today it reached a whopping forty-six degrees. I was so excited I wore jeans with a tank and spring shoes. I fear that being comfortable in such a small amount of clothing at that temperature makes me a full fledged Utahn. Fuck.
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Categories:FKT, I've had better mornings, obviously crazy to leave the bay area
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Last night I found my most favorite new website!
http://www.picturesofwalls.com/
I want to make a comparison between this and my favorite Gabriel Garcia Marquez short story, but I’m way past making any sort of sense tonight.
Here are some new favorites over at Pictures of Walls.
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Categories:Found
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Bowling alley bathrooms are frightening. I do not understand what sort of “performance” would break a toilet seat.
I do not advise attempting homework after drinking Budlight.
However, eating a giant rice krispy treat is advisable. But not if you’re going to eat an entire pizza, half of a pie, countless Fun Size Almond Joys or sip a large Sprite through a handful of Sour Punch Straws that you devour once they’ve turned into a gooey mess.
Finding websites for your friends to turn into dating whores is fun.
I couldn’t decide if this evil eye was protecting or harming occupants of the small coffee shop bathroom.
Cute little temple stickers are awesome prizes for piñatas. I strongly suggest wearing one on your cardigan sweater before going into the state owned liquor and freaking out when you see your favorite beer.
My friend’s mom called her privates her Secret Treasures.
I couldn’t get that damn “Secret Lovers” song out of my mind, only the lyrics were about Secret Treasures.
I still can’t decide which is worse: booze hangover or food hangover. I guess I’ll have to drink too much soon for proper comparison. If I play my cards right I can probably blame a boozy hangover on Aaron. Since he made me eat all sorts of food for him, I’m sure he’d find plenty of high calorie cocktails for me to consume for him too. You know, cause that’s what friends are for and shit.
I knew I was with the right bunch when I got reprimanded for making people’s faces and tummies hurt from excessive laughter.
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Categories:birthday, friends
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“Sorry about that. My butt is so big that I have very little control over it.”
“Hey everybody! Five dollars to smell my shoulder!”
God, I love the bowling alley.
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Categories:Overheard
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