Babies, Birthday Parties, A Bar, Social Interactions, Gilligan’s Island, And More Delightful Detritus


I spent, like, 2 hours or so in close proximity to a baby, which usually ends badly for both me and whatever baby happens to find itself near me.  As I may have mentioned, babies do not dig me as a general rule.  I don’t know if it’s the sight of my freakishly large head or if they are like dogs and can smell fear, all I know is they usually start shrieking if I get too close or, god forbid, I attempt to hold them.  To be entirely honest, they just kinda freak me out.  The second a baby starts crying, I have the urge to run away screaming.  I never know what’s wrong or how to make it better or anything.  So anyway, I held this baby and chatted with him and such–and HE DIDN’T CRY!  He laughed and waved his chubby little arms and kicked his chubby little legs and all that the whole time!  My baby cousin, Jaxon (I am probably spelling that wrong), totally dug me!  Perhaps it was because he too has a rather sizable noggin.  Doesn’t really matter, I’m just psyched I didn’t make him cry, not even a little bit!  Oh, and I have another new baby cousin and her name is Hadley Jade.  Sounds like her arrival was a bit beyond rough for both her and her mom, but it appears both made it through alright, so it’s all good.  Getting awful hard to keep all these new baby cousins straight!

I had two, count them, TWO, birthday parties to attend Saturday.  My little cousins’ party was in the afternoon and consisted of little girls shrieking and balloons popping and chatting with my cousins and playing with the amazing non-crying baby and more little girls shrieking and arguing and such. And, as long as I made sure to shift to the least crowded room according to the shifting of the crowd, it really wasn’t too “eeeek! people! argh!” or anything.  And then I had to go to my buddy Caron’s party that night.  I went to a bar y’all!  For over two hours, I hung out at a bar.  With people!  And I didn’t even freak out or die or anything!  Okay, a couple times I started to get a bit freaked, but I managed to soldier through for a half hour longer than I had been shooting for.  I think it made Caron quite happy to have me there, so it was totally worth it.  And I totally actually talked to a few people I didn’t know!  And there were two ladies there, a mother and daughter, and I couldn’t remember their names at first.  So I kept repeating, “Ginger is watching the Dawn of day on Gilligan’s Island.”  Then I could remember that their names were Dawn and Ginger, which is probably a bizarre and rather silly way to remember them, but it worked, so I don’t care.  And I got to meet Caron’s new boyfriend (technically, I met him way back in high school, but I don’t really remember all that all that well, it totally doesn’t count) and see her dad, whom I haven’t seen in ages.  And I got to see Brenda, and my old boss, Jules, and got into a rather heated discussion with Brenda and Ginger over whether I have a butt or not.  Which I totally do have a butt, and a rather sizable one at that, darn it!  Why I felt the need to defend the largeness of my ass is beyond me, but I just had to defend it’s existence and such.  I also got dragged onto what passes for a dance floor there by Caron and Brenda,but I just couldn’t dance, since I was fairly sure I looked like a giant in munchkinland standing with those two.  Lord I felt freakishly tall next to them!  And I would like to say one thing about karaoke: if someone starts ‘singing’ and everyone in the bar cringes, TURN OFF THE DAMN MIC!  Don’t these people have friends?  Why does no one stop them from getting up there and screeching their tragically horrendous rendition of some poor defenseless song??  Truly distressing, listening to these people.  Overall though, it was pretty fun.

Randomosity:  I’m fairly certain that this channel, FX, lied to me last week.  I could swear they said the season finale of The Strain was tonight, but it’s not until next week!  I have been deceived!  And, in case you’re wondering, I was not mistaken, they totally lied to me and promised a season finale and then didn’t show it!  Not that this episode wasn’t good, cause it totally was, just rather disgruntled about the whole finale thing.  Oh well, at least I still have one more to look forward to.  And then, like a week later, it’s time for The Walking Dead again!  Whoot whoot!  Can not wait!  I’m totally jealous that Sierra is going to do the whole The Birds costume for Halloween, but kinda super ‘I know someone that awesome’ proud at the same time.  Ever since I saw Darlene sport that costume on an episode of Roseanne, I thought it was the coolest costume idea in the history of ever.  Like, even better than when Caron and I taped cereal boxes to ourselves and put knives in them and went as cereal killers, which was awesome too, but not as awesome as the whole bird idea.  Close though.  Two more nights of work, a day of doc appointments and arranging stuff, most of one day to lounge and relax and suchafter my counseling appointment, then 4 days of work.  Makes me tired just thinking about it really.  And achy.  And a bit whiny.  I think I may get to go visit the family for a few days at the end of October/beginning of November!  Or in November.  Hope I can get it all figured out and be able to go.  I miss them tons and I won’t get to see them during the holidays, so it really just has to work out, damn it!

Peace out!


I Do Love Cheesy Horror Movies, And Other Delights


I don’t know what it is, but I absolutely love cheesy horror movies.  Like, seriously, the cheesier the better.  Now don’t get me wrong, I am under no delusions that these movies are actually GOOD or anything.  They’re horrible.  But oh so entertaining.  And I’m not talking about the truly god-awful crap filled with horrendous acting, tragically heinous plots, distinctly unspecial effects, and all that–those are NOT delightfully cheesy, they’re just plain unforgivably bad.  The good ones wisely refrain from taking themselves too seriously and relish their tackiness.  Day of the Dead 2 Contagium is a perfect example.  So cheesy and tacky and bizarre–love it!

Work was less annoying than usual tonight.  Worked with Krystal, which is always a bonus.  I did get a tad annoyed when Krystal went on break and suddenly, everyone and their cousin decided they needed to come in and buy shit right then.  I had, like, 3 people in line.  A little old lady had to write a check, which I had to enter in manually, of course.  By the time I got her all checked out, I had close to 7 people in line.  Then, of course, I had a customer that had to dig through her purse to find enough change to pay for her crap, which took FOREVER.  Luckily, Krystal came in, clocked back in, helped me out, then clocked back out to  finish that last little bit of her break.  Which was awesome of her!  Other than that though, the night went pretty well.  So yay for that and such.

Randomosity:  DHS sucks.  Apparently, it’s acceptable to be unemployed while receiving food stamps, but if you are employed, you have to average 20 hours a week.  Between my health issues and stingy payroll, I do not average 20 hours a week.  So I have to go to my doctor and have her write out some stupid paper thingy, then have my boss write out something, then fax the papers into the DHS chick, all in the hopes that I will somehow be able to keep getting food stamps.  The whole thing is absolutely ridiculously stupid.  Who ever heard of someone being too poor to qualify for food stamps??  I’m so happy I got my fuzzy owl jammie pants fixed–thank you Krystal!!  So naked pistachios are way easier to eat.  I was so excited to find out naked pistachios did, in fact, exist!(thanks to a random shopper at Walmart who heard me complaining about how hard it is to crack the shell sometimes and how I thought they should totally just sell naked pistachios, which I looked for but didn’t find because apparently my observational skills suck since they were  right there with the other pistachios.)  Handy horror movie survival tip–if someone runs past you, screaming like a terrified school girl, covered in blood, you might not want to go see what scared them.  In other words, do not walk towards whatever it is that made them run away screaming, instead, follow their example and get the hell out of there.  Just saying.  I totally want to get one of the goofy moose/reindeer thingies we have at work.  They’re a hoot!

Ta-ta all!

My Stomach Is An Asshole, Anxiety Sucks, And Some Other Crap


So, my stomach apparently wants me dead.  After my doctor appointment yesterday, I stopped at the pharmacy near there to pick up a new wrist brace, then stopped and picked up some juice, then went to Walmart to get my prescriptions.  Around the time I got to Walmart, my stomach started getting a bit snarky.  By the time my prescriptions were ready, it had switched into full homicidal mode in a desperate attempt to kill me.  I don’t know what I have done to my stomach to deserve this extreme animosity.  It’s not like I’ve been munching on glass and razor blades or anything like that!  Anyway, by the time I got to the car I was fairly sure I was going to pass out or die, and dying didn’t sound so bad by that point.  I actually had to sit in the car and wait for at least 10 minutes before I thought I could do the 3-4 minute drive home.  And when I got home my fave selectively-social shopping buddy, Robby, was here and I couldn’t even hang out and chat with him, all I could do was curl up on my bed and be miserable.  This whole stomach issue shit is getting old.  Siiiigh.

I know this will shock the hell out of folks, but I have anxiety.  I know, I know, it’s hard to believe.  But it’s true,  I swear!  Anyhow, I take medicine for this (and, like, a zillion other delightful things), at least I do when nobody screws up my prescriptions.  I’m sure you can guess where I’m going with this.  They messed up my prescriptions.  So I had to go without my anxiety medicine (which is also for my fibromyalgia) for over 2 weeks, and when I did finally get my prescription, it was all wrong and I ended up with half the amount I’ve been taking for over 2 years or so.  So, silly me, I thought, “No big deal.  It’ll totally be fine.”  Yeah.  Not so much.  I am a fidgety, nervous mess.  I am soooooooooo glad my doc sent in a corrected script so I can get back on the right amount of my medicine!  Between not being on the right dosage of my medicine, having a new counselor, money stress, and such, I’m kind of amazed I’m not rocking and humming disjointed lullabies in a padded room somewhere.

Randomosity:  There’s a girl on this season of Face Off that has this awesome pinky-purpley hair that I totally wish I could pull off, but I think I’d end up looking like a total dork.  I think I’d be really bad at sitting and having special effects makeup done.  I can barely sit still long enough to get my hair trimmed, which only takes, like, a fraction of the time those sorts of makeup jobs take.  I totally want to see that new horror movie, Annebelle, the one about the creepy doll.  It looks super delightfully scary-ish!  That doll is freaky! I wonder why you don’t see pink Hummers?  I would totally drive a pink Hummer.  Here’s a tip for folks to keep in mind while shopping: if you spill something, for the love of all that is holy, clean it up or, at the very least, tell an employee about the mess so they can clean it up!  This should be one of those obvious sort of things, but apparently not.  I should totally get a fish and name it Ferdinand Magellan and get him one of those little castles and a little pirate skeleton dude.  Although, I haven’t had the best luck with pet fish–Drop Dead Fred (I&II) and Tchaikovsky didn’t last all that long.  Okay, so maybe I accidentally murdered poor Drop Dead Fred I in less than 3 hours.  But it wasn’t my fault!  No one told me you can’t just dump a gold fish in tap water fresh from the tap!  How was I supposed to know you’re supposed to let it sit or whatever??  Really, I blame those darn workers at the fair for not including some kind of instructions or something.  They’re murderers.  Inadvertent murderers, but murderers none the less.  Bastards.

Peace out!

Yet Another Baby Shower, Stupid People–They’re Inescapable, And Other Completely Irrelevant Stuff


Well, once again, I had to go and be somewhat social and such.  My cousin Craig is truly a rather spiffy sort of fellow, so I just couldn’t weasel out of the baby shower, since it’s Craig’s baby and all.  Immediately after walking in, my pro-solitude spidey senses started tingling and such.  I realized that I didn’t know a lot of the people there, which, of course, caused me a teeny bit of anxiety.  Okay, maybe a not-so teeny bit.  Okay, maybe it freaked me the fuck out.  So I spent a lot of time wandering the room, checking out the pictures hanging on the walls (which was just awesome fort me, since the shower was at this bow-hunter place, which means all the pictures contained at least one dead animal and one or more people proudly presenting their…um…kill? Achievement? Whatever.)  Or I was annoyingly attaching myself to the people I did know.  I do want to thank Gayle , who saw me doing my little avoidance thing, and made a point of chatting with me for a bit, which helped.  I did discover something interesting today though–sometimes a baby’s head can be freaky!  There were, like, 4 babies at this shower thingy today, which did nothing to help my freaked outedness.  So anyway, I happened to notice that one of the babies had something weird going on with his head.  There was this, like, fault line thing leading up to his very visible soft spot.  I am proud to say I didn’t actually start shrieking and screeching that it appeared his head may be trying to morph into something else or something.  It was super freaky.  I don’t care that folks were laughing at me for finding it totally creepy, it was, damn it!  Now, I know some folks would be all butt-hurt that I’m kind of pretty much saying something about this poor baby.  Yeah, those folks can bite me.  It’s not like I was smacking the poor little guy or anything, and I’m not making fun of him.  It’s just that I found his head rather unnerving.  Probably he’ll have a perfectly fine head when he’s a bit bigger.  God, I sure hope so.  Poor fella, with his weird little skull thing going on.  On the plus side, my little cousin’s head seems nice and un-scary!  And he is really quite cute.  And rather surprisingly tiny, seeing as how his dad is a rather un-small sort of guy.

Honestly, I expect to encounter stupid people at work, and I am depressingly not let down in this respect.  Like the idiot girl that stood right in the middle of the aisle, watching me push the big, heavy, honking, unwieldy cart thing right at her while trying to put it away.  She just stood there, looking stupid, while I’m battling that stupid cart.  So I had to skid to a stop, which is nowhere near easy or fun, and say “excuse me” a couple times before she finally moseyed out of the way.  I was sorely tempted to just run her over but, strangely, that’s frowned upon.  Anyway, I expect these sorts of encounters at work.  However, considering how dedicatedly I avoid going in public, I don’t really expect to encounter this much beyond work.  Today I was forced to deal with stupidity when I was attempting to check out at Walmart.  Now, I know that Walmart is kind of teeming with stupidity.  But I rarely have to deal with it since I get in and out of there as fast as possible.  Ah, but today, I got to the register without encountering anyone, let alone anyone overflowing with stupid.  But then, I got to deal with the cashier.  So this bonehead rings up one item, then turns to the coworker leaning over her little register wall thingy, and starts chatting with her.  Now, I have talked to coworkers or other customers while ringing up a sale at work, but I did not stop working to chat!  This moron just ceased working while talking to the other worker.  I was buying 3 damn things, and she took FOREVER to get around to ringing them up, making sure to stop and chat between each item and again while I was waiting to pay.  Seriously?  What the hell?!?  Stupid people–they’re everywhere!

Randomosity: The dude on this episode of Lock Up wears glasses that have one normal lens and one super cloudy-looking lens.  It’s bugging the hell out of me, I mean, he has a pretty severe lazy eye, so maybe the glasses are supposed to be like that, but it’s just weird-looking.  Like he needs to clean the lens really bad or something.  I can’t believe I have to have a physical.  I haven’t had a physical since I don’t know when.  A long time ago though.  I heard the neatest name the other day.  This little dude’s name was Tazikiah (pretty sure that’s right anyway) and his nickname was Tazzy.  I thought that was pretty cool.  I should really get around to watching Game Of Thrones and Castle soon, since I’m sure Rae will want them back someday.  Oh, and the Chucky movie I borrowed from Cat.  Damn, I am really bad at remembering to watch stuff.  I still have, like, 10 hours of stuff to watch on the DVR too.  And instead of watching any of that, I’m watching Lock Up. Again.  If I had a dog, I’d totally give it nifty haircuts and maybe a nice (totally doggy safe) dye job.    I need a printer.  I am totally going to get some adorable super fuzzy boot things this winter.  I think I’m going to get a lawn gnome and zombify it.  And I want to get some old dolls/barbies to zombify too.  It would be super fun I think.  Spell check is stupid–it totally tried to tell me that zombify isn’t a word, which is totally is!  It’s like I have to do all the work here, spell check dictionary!  I wonder why Depends is starting to have so many commercials that make it look like all the cool kids wear Depends or something.  It’s weird.

Ta-ta folks!

The Next Installment Of WTF Were You Thinking Has Arrived


Okay folks, this week’s installment is another delightful dose of WTF are you wearing!  Never fear, it’s all new bits of clothing insanity.  Strangely, it seems there are, like, zillions of these sorts of pictures roaming the internet, darn near a never-ending supply in fact.  Which begs the question, just how many people out there dress so…interestingly?  Anyway, without further ado, check out the newest installment.  Trust me, totally amusingly horrifying stuff y’all!

You'll want to check this shit out--it's downright amazing y'all!

You’ll want to check this shit out–it’s downright amazing y’all!

I can honestly say that I have never been so desperate to hide a bad hair day that I felt the need to slap a pair of panties on my head.

I can honestly say that I have never been so desperate to hide a bad hair day that I felt the need to slap a pair of panties on my head.

I think she thinks she looks sexy.  I think she looks like one of those tubes of bread dough that you whack against the counter and the dough stuff kind of oozes out of the cracks and looks all blob-ish and unappealing and such.

I think she thinks she looks sexy. I think she looks like one of those tubes of bread dough that you whack against the counter and the dough stuff kind of oozes out of the cracks and looks all blob-ish and unappealing and such.

If your shirt makes it look like you have boobs on your back, you might need to reevaluate your wardrobe choices...

If your shirt makes it look like you have boobs on your back, you might need to reevaluate your wardrobe choices…

I don't even know what to say...

I don’t even know what to say…

That’s it for this installment of What the fuck were you thinking!  Peace out folks!

Irradiated Eggs Taste Like Ass, A Nasal Assault, Stupid Vocal Flaps, And Other Crap


So, irradiated eggs are atrociously nasty-tasting, in case you were wondering.  Like, seriously, HORRENDOUS.  And the stomach emptying test thingy was booooooring as hell, especially since I was trying to read a book on my Kindle app on my phone and had the awesome luck to grab a charger that didn’t work, so after a couple hours, my stupid phone started to be all “low battery! connect charger!” and I was all “I’m trying to connect the stupid charger but the damn thing isn’t working so give me a freakin’ break damn it!” and I couldn’t finish my book so I got a tad crabby about that.  But I had to sit in a waiting room for 4 hours, which is kind of a huge challenge for me (shocking, I know).  Luckily, when I kind of jokingly, but kind of not so jokingly, told the adorable little x-ray tech fella that they definitely needed comfier chairs, that little cutie-pie promptly led me to a new waiting room with way comfier chairs, so that was rather swell.  But I was super tired, since I got myself so worried about oversleeping that I ended up getting only about 30-45 minutes of sleep the night before, and I was rather displeased over the whole not being able to have anything to drink from midnight til noon except for a dixie cup of water with my nasty radiation eggs.

After my delightfully exciting morning, I had an appointment to go meet my new lung doc.  Well, he thought I might have this weird vocal flap issue and decided he wanted me to have a test thingy done to see for sure, and, lucky me, they had a cancellation so I could have the test done that very day.  Yippee!  So I was once again informed I couldn’t have anything to eat or drink until the test thingy, and they sent me down to the test place to wait, like, an hour and a half for them to do the test.  Just so you know, the test to check for dysfunctional vocal flaps SUCKS!  They squirt this nasty, slimy, snotty-looking goop up your nose, one nostril at a time, then shove giant q-tip thingies covered in the same icky snot stuff up your nose really far, which is just so comfortable and awesome and all.  Then the doctor guy comes in and shoves yet another ginormous q-tip up your nose so far that you begin to wonder if he is trying to find gold, or perhaps dig his way to Chine, via your poor nostril.  Then, they take a camera hosey thing up your nose and down your throat, while telling you to breath normally and swallow normally and all manner of other completely impossible things like that.  Then, as you are gagging and trying desperately to avoid vomiting all over yourself and everyone in your vicinity, the doc offers to let you check out your vocal flaps on the monitor–joy of joys!  Since most folks have no idea what their vocal flaps are supposed to do, seeing them do whatever they are doing means exactly jack shit to them, especially when they are distracted by the whole nasal assault thing.  So yeah, I got to see my stupid vocal flaps, which I had always heard referred to as vocal chords up until that point, when I was informed that they are actually vocal flaps, not chords.  Whatever he thought I was seeing, I totally was not seeing, since, at that point in time, I did not give a fuck what my stupid vocal flaps were doing.  Not one single fuck.  At the end of all this fun, I am informed that my whole perfume/coughing/dying thing is actually caused by my vocal flaps, not my asthma, though my asthma is still an asshole that pitches a hissy-fit over illness and allergens.  Guess I’ll find out when I do the whole speech therapist thing that’s supposed to fix this whole vocal flap crap.  My nose is still rather snarked off about the whole experience though.

Randomosity:  I really hope the meeting thing we’re having at work tomorrow (today…whatever)goes okay.  My new counselor dude officially diagnosed me with PTSD today.  On the scale thing they use, you have to get, like, 37 points to be considered afflicted with PTSD–I got 60 points.  So, if you want to look at it from a positive point of view, at least I’m not doing some pathetic half-assed attempt at having issues–go big or go home I always say.  Actually, I don’t really say that much at all, but whatever.  Am I the only one who feels sorry for the big foot dude in the Jack Links commercials?  And why are people always such dicks to him?  I totally root for him to kick their asses or eat them or something, every time.  I have a new baby cousin named Owen, and he is a very cute little baby.  And I am definitely not one of those people who thinks all babies are automatically cute.  In fact, as a general rule, babies freak me out and I actually think a lot of them are kind of weird looking.  They are cooking with cricket flour.  CRICKET FLOUR y’all!  Which apparently tastes like dirty crickets.  What the entire fucking fuck?!?  Who the hell came up with that crap?  I found some sites where I can apply for a chance to review or edit books and such for money, which would be ah-may-zing, especially if I could manage to do it enough to be able to just work from home!  Which would rule ’cause then I wouldn’t have to deal with people all face to face and such, which, as you all might have noticed, I prefer to avoid as much as humanly possible.

Toodle-loos kangaroos!