Saturday, July 28, 2007
Please Sir...
I went to happy hour with some coworkers the other day and as I was standing there talking to my boss, some rather attractive man comes up behind me and whispers in my ear, "I think you are gorgeous," and walked away. Who knows why he did it- maybe he was being honest, maybe he was drunk, maybe he lost a bet- but whatever the reason, it was damn good to hear! That was the very first time anything like that has ever happened to me. Please sir, can I have another? :)
Row Row Row Your Ass, Scraping on the Ground...
I just got back from an interesting day of tubing. It took me a while to pick an adjective to insert in to describe my tubular time, but I think my final decision is a good one, or at least encompasses the trip to it's fullest extent. It was fun most of the time, irritating at times, burn-y at times, but most overall it was interesting. Let me set up the scene: there were 8 of us on the trip- a married couple, a dating couple, and four non-coupled. Usually this would make for a nice mix where hopefully no one feels pressure to pair off and no one feels like the third (or 9th, as it may be) wheel. However, the dating couple sure did do everything in their power to make things as awkward as possible, including, but not limited to the girl getting quite drunk, randomly passionately making out while the rest of the group was in conversation, dry humping on a single tube, and other such affections that best be left for a more...intimate setting. I am no prude, and am myself quite liberal with the PDAs when boyfriend is around, but come on, this was ridiculous.
Perhaps what was more interesting (read: annoying) than the over the top affection was the general attitude of the girl in the couple. I've known her for a couple months, but we really aren't quite friends yet, just good acquaintances. I heard from one of her roommates that she was feeling kind of down and ignored by the people around her, so I wanted to make an effort to be more friendly. This was the main reason I went tubing, as she was the one that planned the event. Ah, and what a nice place to start on my little rant about this particular person. I have never been tubing before, so when the opportunity presented itself, I jumped at the chance as I've heard it's a fine activity for generally lounging around and goofing off while consuming tasty libations. The information about our trip was a bit slapdash at best, but that's pretty common with this group, so I did the best I could to research our location and the weather conditions and then just showed up at the appointed time.
Problem number one: this girl, the organizer and the PDAer, had no clue what in the world was going on. She was sure to have LOADS of alcohol purchased , but beyond that she was utterly inept. She didn't realize that the weather called for thunderstorms all day, or that the river was very low due to no rain this month (which is not fun when it comes to tubing), or that she had quoted everyone the wrong price by about $15. Oh well, she is a little ditsy, so I'm glad I did my research beforehand and was prepared. No big deal.
Problem number two: Homegirl is VAIN and OBNOXIOUS in all caps. Forget lowercase, she doesn't even know what that is. Let me be the first to say she is absolutely gorgeous and I would kill puppies for a living to get to look like her, but she must have insecurity issues to the max because she fished for compliments for the entire three-hour "relaxing" ride down the river in which I wanted to drown myself. There is nothing worse than a beautiful woman who makes every man within ten feet of her tell her how beautiful she is every thirty seconds, lest someone forgets. She even wore a full face of makeup, curled her hair, had on earrings and bracelets, and carried around lip gloss for a trip down a freaking river. Honestly. She insisted on bringing the lip gloss with her on the actual tubes (can't leave it in the car or else the fishies might miss seeing her glossy shiny lips) and then was upset when she got drunk and forgot to get it out of a bag of empty beer bottles and someone threw it away. Of course, she couldn't admit this was her fault. Instead, she blamed the guy that drives the van with the canoes of stealing it. That's right, a 50 year old shirtless hillbilly stole her fancy lip gloss. Sure.
And then there was the clothing discussion. Oh Lord, the clothing discussion! One of the other people on the trip is a teeny tiny girl who openly said (because someone asked) that she was 4'11 and 98 lbs. Obviously teeny tiny, but she doesn't make a big deal of it, so why should anyone else? Anyway, the tiny girl was on a time crunch and had to shower and change clothes to go to a concert after tubing. The obnoxious one says that Teeny Tiny should just shower at her place (where we all met) and borrow some of her clothes. At this point it needs to be said that while Ms. Obnoxious is beautiful, she is still a healthy size 8 at least, probably a 10. And she is pretty tall as well. Teeny Tiny made the mistake of politely refusing the offer, and then, after being prodded by Ms. Obnoxious on why she refused, she carefully and casually admitted because it is doubtful any of her clothes would fit her properly. Holy cow, you would have though she just threw pig blood on her and lit her on fire because for the next 45 minutes all we talked about was how Ms. Ob is not fat and no one thinks she is fat, and that's not what Teeny Tiny meant, and yes of course you are pretty, and no you should not loose weight, and yes, we already told you that you are pretty so stop asking.
Other examples of problem number two: She was obviously disappointed when the bus driver didn't recognize her from the last time she was there, over two months ago. Someone jokingly said something like, "Oh yes, because you and (boyfriend) are so fantastically attractive that the mental image should have been burned in his memory for all time," and she AGREED that the statement was more or less exactly what she meant. When she realized that everyone was stunned silent, she lamely tried to pretend she was joking. In addition, every time she would switch positions on the tube, she would announce in a tone of voice a bullhorn would envy that she's sooooo sorry her perfect butt was in someones (males only here!) face. And then turn to look at the guy to see if he was looking back.
Problem number three: Drunkenness. There is a reason this is a sin and that reason has never been so clear. It's not because you may inadvertently kill yourself in some kind of intoxicated stupor, it is because everyone else may want to kill you because of your intoxicated stupor. We literally had to fish her out of the water at least three times, not because she was drowning, but because she was swimming up to other groups of tubers and threatening to steal their hats. Apparently she thought this made her seem cute. It did not. It made her seem desperate for attention and annoying and it embarrassed everyone with her, especially when she loitered around the tubes of a group of 40-50 year olds flirting with the married men and trying to swim in between their circle of tubes.
And then she wouldn't stop yelling "fuck" at anyone who tried to talk to her. And then she wouldn't stop drinking to the point where we had to literally pry the bottle from her hands and empty out the beer. And the she wouldn't get out of the water when it was time to go like a 6 year old. And then she made out with her boyfriend and practically flashed the whole bus of people riding back to the main site, and there were young children on board. It was just a mess.
So I know I seem pretty bitter about this who thing, and maybe I am more personally offended than I would care to admit. I think some of it stems from the fact that I felt trapped out on the water with her and I was increasingly annoyed with each turn of the river. I realized today that I really don't like to be in social situations that I can not extract myself from if I need to, and this was one of them. And also, I am probably more than a little jealous of her. Like I said, she is beautiful, and to make matters worse, she is exactly the kind of beautiful that boyfriend likes. The kind of beautiful that I am not. This is not to say that I am not beautiful. I think that I am, but I can't even hold a candle to her. I just hate it that just because she is beautiful (oh, and did I mention that she is also a fantastic singer, which she had no problem proving) she gets to be so damn high maintenance and men will put up with it just to get to be with her. I try to be as low maintenance as womanly possible and I still have a hard time. I would never hear a compliment (actual compliment from her boyfriend: You are beautiful. Her response: What? Are you saying I'm not gorgeous?) and then twist it around a million times sideways just to get another one. She already has it all, why does she have to be so foolish?
Ok, that is all for now. I really needed to vent about that for a bit, but now that it is off my chest I am going to take a shower and wash off all this river shit before I start growing algae.
Perhaps what was more interesting (read: annoying) than the over the top affection was the general attitude of the girl in the couple. I've known her for a couple months, but we really aren't quite friends yet, just good acquaintances. I heard from one of her roommates that she was feeling kind of down and ignored by the people around her, so I wanted to make an effort to be more friendly. This was the main reason I went tubing, as she was the one that planned the event. Ah, and what a nice place to start on my little rant about this particular person. I have never been tubing before, so when the opportunity presented itself, I jumped at the chance as I've heard it's a fine activity for generally lounging around and goofing off while consuming tasty libations. The information about our trip was a bit slapdash at best, but that's pretty common with this group, so I did the best I could to research our location and the weather conditions and then just showed up at the appointed time.
Problem number one: this girl, the organizer and the PDAer, had no clue what in the world was going on. She was sure to have LOADS of alcohol purchased , but beyond that she was utterly inept. She didn't realize that the weather called for thunderstorms all day, or that the river was very low due to no rain this month (which is not fun when it comes to tubing), or that she had quoted everyone the wrong price by about $15. Oh well, she is a little ditsy, so I'm glad I did my research beforehand and was prepared. No big deal.
Problem number two: Homegirl is VAIN and OBNOXIOUS in all caps. Forget lowercase, she doesn't even know what that is. Let me be the first to say she is absolutely gorgeous and I would kill puppies for a living to get to look like her, but she must have insecurity issues to the max because she fished for compliments for the entire three-hour "relaxing" ride down the river in which I wanted to drown myself. There is nothing worse than a beautiful woman who makes every man within ten feet of her tell her how beautiful she is every thirty seconds, lest someone forgets. She even wore a full face of makeup, curled her hair, had on earrings and bracelets, and carried around lip gloss for a trip down a freaking river. Honestly. She insisted on bringing the lip gloss with her on the actual tubes (can't leave it in the car or else the fishies might miss seeing her glossy shiny lips) and then was upset when she got drunk and forgot to get it out of a bag of empty beer bottles and someone threw it away. Of course, she couldn't admit this was her fault. Instead, she blamed the guy that drives the van with the canoes of stealing it. That's right, a 50 year old shirtless hillbilly stole her fancy lip gloss. Sure.
And then there was the clothing discussion. Oh Lord, the clothing discussion! One of the other people on the trip is a teeny tiny girl who openly said (because someone asked) that she was 4'11 and 98 lbs. Obviously teeny tiny, but she doesn't make a big deal of it, so why should anyone else? Anyway, the tiny girl was on a time crunch and had to shower and change clothes to go to a concert after tubing. The obnoxious one says that Teeny Tiny should just shower at her place (where we all met) and borrow some of her clothes. At this point it needs to be said that while Ms. Obnoxious is beautiful, she is still a healthy size 8 at least, probably a 10. And she is pretty tall as well. Teeny Tiny made the mistake of politely refusing the offer, and then, after being prodded by Ms. Obnoxious on why she refused, she carefully and casually admitted because it is doubtful any of her clothes would fit her properly. Holy cow, you would have though she just threw pig blood on her and lit her on fire because for the next 45 minutes all we talked about was how Ms. Ob is not fat and no one thinks she is fat, and that's not what Teeny Tiny meant, and yes of course you are pretty, and no you should not loose weight, and yes, we already told you that you are pretty so stop asking.
Other examples of problem number two: She was obviously disappointed when the bus driver didn't recognize her from the last time she was there, over two months ago. Someone jokingly said something like, "Oh yes, because you and (boyfriend) are so fantastically attractive that the mental image should have been burned in his memory for all time," and she AGREED that the statement was more or less exactly what she meant. When she realized that everyone was stunned silent, she lamely tried to pretend she was joking. In addition, every time she would switch positions on the tube, she would announce in a tone of voice a bullhorn would envy that she's sooooo sorry her perfect butt was in someones (males only here!) face. And then turn to look at the guy to see if he was looking back.
Problem number three: Drunkenness. There is a reason this is a sin and that reason has never been so clear. It's not because you may inadvertently kill yourself in some kind of intoxicated stupor, it is because everyone else may want to kill you because of your intoxicated stupor. We literally had to fish her out of the water at least three times, not because she was drowning, but because she was swimming up to other groups of tubers and threatening to steal their hats. Apparently she thought this made her seem cute. It did not. It made her seem desperate for attention and annoying and it embarrassed everyone with her, especially when she loitered around the tubes of a group of 40-50 year olds flirting with the married men and trying to swim in between their circle of tubes.
And then she wouldn't stop yelling "fuck" at anyone who tried to talk to her. And then she wouldn't stop drinking to the point where we had to literally pry the bottle from her hands and empty out the beer. And the she wouldn't get out of the water when it was time to go like a 6 year old. And then she made out with her boyfriend and practically flashed the whole bus of people riding back to the main site, and there were young children on board. It was just a mess.
So I know I seem pretty bitter about this who thing, and maybe I am more personally offended than I would care to admit. I think some of it stems from the fact that I felt trapped out on the water with her and I was increasingly annoyed with each turn of the river. I realized today that I really don't like to be in social situations that I can not extract myself from if I need to, and this was one of them. And also, I am probably more than a little jealous of her. Like I said, she is beautiful, and to make matters worse, she is exactly the kind of beautiful that boyfriend likes. The kind of beautiful that I am not. This is not to say that I am not beautiful. I think that I am, but I can't even hold a candle to her. I just hate it that just because she is beautiful (oh, and did I mention that she is also a fantastic singer, which she had no problem proving) she gets to be so damn high maintenance and men will put up with it just to get to be with her. I try to be as low maintenance as womanly possible and I still have a hard time. I would never hear a compliment (actual compliment from her boyfriend: You are beautiful. Her response: What? Are you saying I'm not gorgeous?) and then twist it around a million times sideways just to get another one. She already has it all, why does she have to be so foolish?
Ok, that is all for now. I really needed to vent about that for a bit, but now that it is off my chest I am going to take a shower and wash off all this river shit before I start growing algae.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Lame Excuses, You Wanker
Just a quick update. I haven't thought much about the blog for a couple reasons. The first, and probably the instigator for the second, is that the power/charging cord for my computer decided to crap out on me in a flourish of flickering lights and sputtering attempts to hold on to its position as the most favored of all electronic power adapters. After Dell sent me the wrong cord, and Ebay sent me a non-working cord, I decided to re-investigate my power supply options while intermittently borrowing a coworkers cord that works for my old-ass computer as well. It's really a relic, and it's a wonder that he even had a compatible cord. My computer exists solely for my facebooking and photo-storage needs, so it really hasn't been that hard to keep the old girl turned off. But while I'm borrowing the cord, I might as well catch up on some things.
The other time-sucking activity I have recently devoted my slightly obsessive personality to is the reading and viewing and hanging-on-to-of-every-wording of all things Harry Potter. Boyfriend recently started listening to the books on mp3, and suggested we read/listen to them together. This, it turns out, was a really really great idea.
I read the first three books years ago when they first came out, but my Harry Potter attention span tapered off due to the lag time between releases. Boyfriend was on book 4- Goblet of Fire- but since I had already seen that movie I figured it would be sufficient to jump ahead (one of my many tragic misjudgments). I picked up the nearly 900-page Order of the Phoenix, and literally did not put it down for two days straight. I read it all in under 48 hours (which means that I did nothing but read and flip over on the couch every couple hours to prevent bed sores) and for the next week had dreams of Voldemordt, Harry, and Doby. I love Doby. It's a shame they cut him and Winky out of the movies. Lets be clear, when I say I had "dreams" I mean every possible scope of dream imaginable. Daydreams, night dreams, nightmares, thoughts, ponderings and relentless stewing over every detail of the story. I was so ridiculously obsessed by the time that I went back to book 4 that my thoughts were playing through my head with a bloody British accent. If ever there was mind control, this was it.
After a week of nothing but Harry Potter I decided to give it a rest- literally. It was taking hours to fall asleep at night because I couldn't get my anxious Harry Potter thoughts out of my head. I haven't read any more HP since I finished Goblet of Fire, but Half-Blooded Prince is sitting on my nightstand and I swear it calls out to me at night. But no! I will persevere. Boyfriend is only on chapter 11 of Order of the Phoenix, and I promised I would wait for him to catch up. Could this be the end of my personal integrity? I think its a worthy enough cause...
Harry Potter aside (as though that is even possible for me), I am increasingly excited about life in this city. Things with boyfriend are going really well despite him being gone so much- and there is end in sight for his travel. We've been dating a year and a half and one day exactly and the relationship is still exciting and fun and I find more things I love about him every day. Sappy much? I'll stop. The point is I'm much happier than I was a month ago, and it seems things are on the upswing, which, everyone knows, is the best part of the swinging process. Not that swinging process. Come on, get your mind outta the gutter. Geeze.
The other time-sucking activity I have recently devoted my slightly obsessive personality to is the reading and viewing and hanging-on-to-of-every-wording of all things Harry Potter. Boyfriend recently started listening to the books on mp3, and suggested we read/listen to them together. This, it turns out, was a really really great idea.
I read the first three books years ago when they first came out, but my Harry Potter attention span tapered off due to the lag time between releases. Boyfriend was on book 4- Goblet of Fire- but since I had already seen that movie I figured it would be sufficient to jump ahead (one of my many tragic misjudgments). I picked up the nearly 900-page Order of the Phoenix, and literally did not put it down for two days straight. I read it all in under 48 hours (which means that I did nothing but read and flip over on the couch every couple hours to prevent bed sores) and for the next week had dreams of Voldemordt, Harry, and Doby. I love Doby. It's a shame they cut him and Winky out of the movies. Lets be clear, when I say I had "dreams" I mean every possible scope of dream imaginable. Daydreams, night dreams, nightmares, thoughts, ponderings and relentless stewing over every detail of the story. I was so ridiculously obsessed by the time that I went back to book 4 that my thoughts were playing through my head with a bloody British accent. If ever there was mind control, this was it.
After a week of nothing but Harry Potter I decided to give it a rest- literally. It was taking hours to fall asleep at night because I couldn't get my anxious Harry Potter thoughts out of my head. I haven't read any more HP since I finished Goblet of Fire, but Half-Blooded Prince is sitting on my nightstand and I swear it calls out to me at night. But no! I will persevere. Boyfriend is only on chapter 11 of Order of the Phoenix, and I promised I would wait for him to catch up. Could this be the end of my personal integrity? I think its a worthy enough cause...
Harry Potter aside (as though that is even possible for me), I am increasingly excited about life in this city. Things with boyfriend are going really well despite him being gone so much- and there is end in sight for his travel. We've been dating a year and a half and one day exactly and the relationship is still exciting and fun and I find more things I love about him every day. Sappy much? I'll stop. The point is I'm much happier than I was a month ago, and it seems things are on the upswing, which, everyone knows, is the best part of the swinging process. Not that swinging process. Come on, get your mind outta the gutter. Geeze.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Rough Riders, the broadway musical
As usual, things have turned up not as bad as they seemed. I'm happy to announce I've made a full recovery from being a moody, sullen, PMS-y loner, and now I am restored to full health and bright thinking. The reasons for this transformation are not purely hormonal, but I suspect that has a lot to do with it. Ah, the joys of being female.
A few short days after my last post, boyfriend came home from his perma-traveling and we spent 4 days conjoined in one ugly mass of entangled limbs. As sexual as I intended this to sound (ahem...subtlety is not my forte), I should add that the entanglement was the result of me hanging desperately onto him as we hurtled down the highway perched upon his motorcycle. Nothing more relaxing that a three-day motorcycle trip, I always say, with the sooty smudges of kicked up dirt on your face, bug guts pocking your sunglasses, and the noxious perfume of the inside of an oil can circa 1985 permeating every possible permeable surface. Yes, it was lovely.
The trip was actually very fun and it was great to have a mini-adventure with boyfriend after not really seeing him for about a month. Shorty after my embarrassingly dramatic meltdown I realized that my life is good, my friends are real, and my teeny tiny check is still paying the rent. What more could I ask for?
A few short days after my last post, boyfriend came home from his perma-traveling and we spent 4 days conjoined in one ugly mass of entangled limbs. As sexual as I intended this to sound (ahem...subtlety is not my forte), I should add that the entanglement was the result of me hanging desperately onto him as we hurtled down the highway perched upon his motorcycle. Nothing more relaxing that a three-day motorcycle trip, I always say, with the sooty smudges of kicked up dirt on your face, bug guts pocking your sunglasses, and the noxious perfume of the inside of an oil can circa 1985 permeating every possible permeable surface. Yes, it was lovely.
The trip was actually very fun and it was great to have a mini-adventure with boyfriend after not really seeing him for about a month. Shorty after my embarrassingly dramatic meltdown I realized that my life is good, my friends are real, and my teeny tiny check is still paying the rent. What more could I ask for?
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