Pants, pants, PANTS!

The other night my professor made some crazy eye contact with just as he said:

I’m house/pet sitting for my boss, K., right now. 1 cat, 1 dog and 2 hermit crabs. Today I have been studying and doing shit tons of free laundry. It pains me to pump precious quarters into public washers and dryers. Strange hairs and the plethora of potential germs are almost enough to make me break out in hives. Someday I’ll know I’ve arrived when I have my own personal washer and dryer. But enough about my germ phobic tendencies, to the pets…

Here kitty, kitty
K.’s 5 year old daughter named their cat after me (I’m not quite sure how to take that as he is a boy).

He is independent but enjoyable to have around on his terms. When he’s tired of running amuck outside and ready for attention he crawls into my lap while I knit.

He even plays with the dog. I haven’t seen a dog and cat play together like that since my own dog and cat as a little girl. It’s way cute.

A dog to covet
Then there’s Buddy dog, 4 year old pound puppy wonder. They think he might be a greyhound/lab mix. He is sleek and lanky. The kind of obedient, good natured dog that makes me wish for one of my own. I am so falling for him.

When K.’s daughter became mobile Buddy played nanny. He would bark for K. when her daughter would crawl or walk from the room. Too. Fucking. Cute.

When I need a study break I go outside to throw the ball for Buddy. If I jump up and down like Rumpelstiltskin while the ball is in his mouth he does spastic, bowlegged figure eights around me.

The only thing he’ll chew are dog toys and balls. He will carry around (but not chew) shoes, stuffed animals or baby dolls.

Boring
Then there are the hermit crabs. Original child given names of Hermy and Crabby. The only pets in the house I could potentially have in my own home. But they are SO boring, why would I want to?

No fetch during study breaks.
No emotional attachment or excitement over treats.
And certainly no cuddling up in lap while I knit.

This morning a random asshat threw something at my left rear window. I didn’t see who (or what) was thrown but it made a loud THUD. I wasn’t even on the freeway for more than two seconds before it happened. When I turned to look there were a ton of cars around and no one looked particularly guilty. Now there is a gaping hole in my window and glass EVERYWHERE.

God forbid one fucking year pass without a multitude of rotten shit happening to my vehicle. I’ve only had this car for a year, but I should have known better. The first incident happened after my car was only two weeks old…

• Keyed while camping at the Russian River.

• While out of town someone backs into my car and two little license plate screw circles are stamped into my rear bumper.

• Dinged by Bulgarian Ben opening his truck door COUNTLESS times.

• Some dickhead threw a CAR BATTERY off a freeway overpass and it shredded the corner of my front bumper.

Really, I should consider myself lucky the two incidents on the freeway didn’t involve my front windshield as my whiney ass, bitchy rant would be much more serious. But still, what the fuck?!!!

A friend at work just offered this pearl of wisdom, “Perhaps this is all happening because you aren’t Mormon anymore.”

On Friday I received an email from my friend Chris’ dad. Chris and I were childhood friends. He showed me how to flush an entire deck of cards down the toilet (before moving on to Hot Wheel racing). Another time we attempted to start a fire by furiously rubbing Lincoln Logs together. Chris was very mischievous, we brought out the best/worst in each other.

When Chris was ten he was diagnosed with lymphoma. Tumor the size of an orange in his armpit. He went through chemo and radiation. Six months later the hospital called, his treatment schedule had been miscalculated; come back for more kid, sorry our bad! It devastated his family. The next eight years were spent in and out of hospitals. His parents lost their medical coverage. They had to file for bankruptcy to support the steadily rising medical bills. There were so many brushes with death his brother and sister were each held back in school. Chris was a fighter, he pulled through.

Tragically after years of living in and out of remission, Chris overdosed on drugs at the age of twenty-three. My mom keeps in touch with his parents but I have not seen or heard from them since we were kids. I was surprised to get an email from Chris dad, it said:

I was cleaning out my garage when I came across an envelope mailed 14 Nov 1991 to our son Christopher with your return address.

Laughter and fond memories came flooding back. I hope all is well with you and that the happiness you deserve is with you.

As soon as I finished reading it I felt dizzy. My eyes misted over and memories swam in my chest: sandy fried chicken on the beach, crawdadding in the freezing cold water of Lake Tahoe, sledding down sand dunes in the desert. Miss you Chris.

Today was my fifth day working on a hellish project in a conference room without windows. When told by a co-worker it was time to go back the room I replied:

Don’t make me go to the naughty room!
I promise I’ll be a good girl!

Then he stared at me awkwardly as if I were naked.

It tickles me that someone found my blog by googling Sunshine Biscuits LLC Address.

In the same spirit as my last Neurotic Pants letter… I am addicted to chapstick. I keep it everywhere. Yes, I am crazy. But good crazy. Mostly.

June 18, 2003
Bonne Bell, Inc.
P.O. Box 770349
Lakewood, OH 44107

Subject: Lip Smacker’s

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing you as a loyal Bonne Bell customer of 27 years, I have been using Bonne Bell products since I was a little girl. As an adult I continue to enjoy your products. I keep Lip Smackers hidden in little spots wherever I may need them; my purse, car, bed side table, my desk at work and home, my car, gym bag. Just in case the need should arise.

The reason I am writing is to express my unhappiness with the disappearance of my favorite Bonne Bell flavor, Passion Fruit. I am no longer able to find it and miss it greatly. The fruity mixture was excellent and have not found another favorite flavor since.

I have looked at your online catalog and in various drug stores in my area. Is the Passion Fruit Lip Smacker gone forever? I sure hope not!

Please contact me at your earliest convenience, I would love to find Passion Fruit Lip Smackers again!

Respectfully,

Melliferous Pants
Lip Smacker Master

All I got back was a stupid catalog, here spend more money on our other less than worthy products. BAH!

Jabba the Hut votes Republican.

Seriously, he does.

While visiting my parents when I was 24 we had lunch with some old family friends. Family friends who I LOVE. We spent a lot of time with them as children. We were much closer with them then our own blood relatives. Still, they are Mormon so (culturally speaking) things are sometimes weird.

We all met up for lunch at a restaurant I like to visit when I stay with my family…I think the reason I like it so much is it reminds me of Disneyland. The line to order your food is sectioned off like the line for the Jungle Cruise ride. Everything is bright and colorful, very plastic and artificial happy. Besides that, Mexican food is difficult inland…after moving to Utah my parents ate at a restaurant called “Guadalahonky’s.” My mother acted so surprised when she got wicked diarrhea after eating there. What do you expect from a restaurant whose billboards say “Get your gas at Guad’s.” Ew, dude, ew…

Anyways, out to lunch with old family friends when their dad says:

Hey what’s with all the Pants old maids? Melliferous are you ever gonna get married?

I reply:

No, no boyfriend for now. But I do have some exciting news for everyone. I’M PREGNANT AND I DON’T KNOW WHO THE FATHER IS!

So I wasn’t really pregant but come on now, what a retarded question. It was the year 2000, in most cultures an unmarried 24 year old woman is a good thing. Stupid questions deserve stupid answers.

Advertising for female protection products? Gross.

Do we, as women, really need commercials for this shit? Call me crazy, but I think we would all figure out a way to buy this stuff even if it wasn’t advertised on television.

I saw a tampon commercial today….

A girl is in a canoe with her boyfriend, it starts to take on water.
She pulls out a tampon and inserts it into the boat.
Day saved.
She and boyfriend share a meaningful look.

I guess nothing says I love you like, er, um, forget it, I can’t even write that. It’s dis-gus-ting.

Things I don’t like

• dirty feet
• Internet acronyms
• lying
• mayonnaise
• warm milk

Things I like

• a clean toilet
• acupuncture
• David Sedaris
• ice in my milk
• knitting
• pedicures