Sometimes enough isn't enough and all you want to do is punch life in the nuts.

On a night when I should be ecstatic because I'm done with finals and free for a month AND I've knocked out another semester leaving only 2 left, I find myself falling extremely short of excitement.

During what should be a most joyous time of the year, my favorite time in fact, my family is faced yet again with another hardship and one that I'm not at all prepared to face. Despite having dealt with the suicide of a father, the loss of a best friend in a car crash, the drowning of a 3 year old nephew and on and on, I can't seem to get a grasp on a 3 year old with cancer. It just seems unjustly cruel and impossible. A week ago my little cousin was just a regular boy, feeling a little under the weather. Then he was a little boy with a brain tumor. And now he's a kid who's life could be cut short by an aggressive form of cancer. This simply does not compute in my mind. I know that my family is strong and will face this tragedy one day at a time, one foot in front of the other but it doesn't stop me from wanting to weep out of sadness for a little life possibly being cut short. Or stop me from aching with sympathy and compassion for what my cousins, his parents, must be going through. In a time like this, words seem to fail and can't do anything justice.

After everything I've seen and experienced this, right here, is why in the words of Layfayette from True Blood, Jesus and I have agreed to see other people. I have a hard time putting my faith in a God that allows a family like mine to continually undergo tragedy after tragedy. At some point enough has fucking got to be enough. For my little cousins sake, I won't let my shaky faith affect him though. I've said my prayers and forwarded the word on to those who are better equipped to pray for this kind of thing. I'm afraid I just won't be able to do it with the full heart and mind it deserves and needs. So for those I've emailed, thank you for your love and prayers, I know my family appreciates it. And for those that I haven't and are just reading this, please keep this little guy in your prayers. He's a great kid who deserves to get to lead a full life.

In light of all that has happened in the past week, I find it ridiculous to bitch about things like finals and lack of sleep but in all honesty, I guess these would be the little mountains of hardship that I face everyday... so I'll continue to bitch. But here's to hoping for a Christmas miracle for one little dude who totally deserves it.


Like a relative at Christmas, you can't get rid of me that easily.

Holy shit ya'll, a month. That's almost how long it's been since I've written anything. That's sad, especially because I have the memory and attention span of a fly so anything remotely funny or dumb that happened to me... I've forgotten. I blame it on the drugs. Ok, I'm not on drugs, but it sounded good rather than "I'm just a huge dumbass who can't remember what day it is or where my pants are." (Seriously, have you seen my pants?)

In all reality what's been going on hasn't been that exciting. I've just been overwhelmed with life. Trying to finish out the semester without failing, working and squeezing in some sleep and friend time when I can. Thanksgiving was great. I ate my weight in pie and then had to come home and go for a run so I didn't hate myself. Especially since I haven't been to the gym in 8 weeks. AHHH! Shh... don't tell Jenny, my old trainer. I did however, finally go last night (yay!) and now I can't walk today. That's what I get for spending an hour and going 4 miles on the tread mill. And then stupid me wore seriously heeled boots to work today. When you can't move your thighs without grimacing? Not. So. Smart.

Christmas is coming! And I'm so stinking excited it should be illegal (in fact it might be in some countries). I just love the holidays. The weather, the smells, the family time and the giving. People do amazing things during this time of year for other people that how can you not help but love it! We're having an Ugly Sweater Christmas Party at my house this weekend an I am SO ready to get my ugly sweater on! It's been crazy squeezing planning time in inbetween everything else, but I think me, Meg and Dee will pull it off. It's the first annual one, which means it'll only get better from here. Pictures will follow after the party, promise! These ugly beauties must be shown to the world.

I need something warm to drink because I'm getting frostbite on my hands right now, so this is short, but sweet, to say that hopefully I'm BACK! and will continue to grace you with my stupidity and lack of coordination. Cheers for now folks, the hot cocoa is calling my name.


You can't tell right now, but I'm screaming with panic on the inside.

Have you seen 2012? If not and you want to, prepare yourself for almost 2 hours and 40 minutes of up and down, action that leaves you not only a bit like "what the fuck?" but for those of us who somtimes lean towards the paranoid, a bit in shock for Armaggeddon. I mean, we're all going to die.

Like for reals.

The earth's crust is going to destabilize and flood us all.


This is what this movie does to you and being a scientist (sort of) I believe the earth is changing, though will the tsunami's wipe me out in my life time? Probably not. But still, what the fuck ya'll?! And this is what I was thinking before going to bed last night:

Holy shit, what if the world was coming to an end and there was only 3 huge boats to save people and what the fuck do I have to do to get on that boat cause let's face it, right now Anna, you haven't done much with your life so why the hell would they select you to be on the boat, it's not like you have super amazing genes to offer the world and how would you save mom and sara, would you have to be a stowaway or offer yourself up for sexual favors or stab someone or, shit.

And with these thoughts I drifted off to sleep and dreamt of disaster and destruction and being so full of terror I nearly shat myself in my sleep I think. So, decent movie, but if you've already got enough issues, I recommend maybe not seeing it. (In all honesty it was a decent movie, just a bit long, and frightening, and sad, and did I mention the world is coming to an end?!?!)

The proof that the world is coming to an end? My fucking state taking out more taxes from my paycheck THIS month. Assholes. You got into debt, couldn't settle a budget and now right before mother effing christmas you're going to take 10% more out of my check? Fuck you assholes. Fuck. You. I'm so cheesed off about this right now that I kind of want to kick someone in the shins.

In lighter news, I'm peacing out Thursday for Indiana for Nads's wedding ,which should be pretty damn awesome, minus the whole "myflightleavesat6:30inthemorningwhichmeansIhavetobeattheairportatthebuttcrackofdawn" issue. Except before then I have 2 exams. FML. And next week is Thanksgiving already ya'll, what the hell? Where has time gone? That means I need to get my Christmas shopping done ASAP, except it cost me and arm and a leg and a kidney and my potential first born to fly to Indiana for the wedding, so merry christmas to all I'm going on a trip, that's what you get from me. :) Plus planning for the super awesome party we're having on the 12th. Yeah, things are going to get crazy these last days of the year. What I need is a IV of rum and diet pepsi on a wheely thing so I can make it through it all, and a hot piece of eye candy. Who's with me?

Also, a story I forgot to tell entitled: A trip to the Dollar store with Anna and Denise.
We were searching for the long tipped lighters and couldn't find them, so we ask an employee who without hesitating says:
"We don't have those."
Denise says "Are you sure, I've bought them here before."
And he says, "Oh we usually have them, but we're out right now."
We walk around a bit more and find about 8 rows of them by the kitchen stuff. So we each get one and proceed towards the check out but first stop by him and wave them in his face and I say "You have a ton of them, they're by the kitchen stuff. Just so you know." And we walked away to him going "Oh, ok." Ugh. Customer Service has really slipped since my days of retail.

I need another diet dr. pepper or I'm going to have a panic attack about a giant cavern opening up and swallowing me right now. God Damn you 2012!!!


Last I checked, I hadn't moved to a frozen tundra, but I did have a freak ass dream so maybe I was being abducted while I was asleep.

What the deuce ya'll? How was it 85 degrees and ball sweatingly hot outside just one week ago, and now it's freezing, raining and I can't feel my toes? I'm all for winter weather, but must it arrive all at once? I just don't understand.

Today is apparently my lucky day because I get to go castrate 7 little piggies. UGH! Why weren't you all girls! I'm not looking forward to this experience, mostly because I have no idea what I'm doing and I really hope I don't pop out the wrong thing and cut it off. SO, that being said, the herd manager better be around to help out or I might just lose my shit and refuse to do it. I'm not grossed out by it or anything, I mean obviously, but not knowing what I'm doing and just being handed a scapel and some antibacterial spray are not exactly how I saw myself learning how to do a procedure such as this. 7..... 7!! Only 2 girls in the whole litter, fuck universe, why do you hate me?

I'd like to make the annoucement that I watched the ENTIRE first season of Bones in a 24 hour period. A few episodes Tuesday night and the rest yesterday. Yup. My life is awesome and exciting, I know. But, I think watching that much Bones gave me some jacked up dreams. I had the most horrid dream and woke up freaking out a bit. I realized I needed a drink so I leaned over and stuck my hand out only to come in contact with something furry and go "The fuck?!" and freak out for a minute before realizing it was just my cat, oddly sleeping by my head when he normally sleeps behind my knees and nuzzles in right when I'm in the most uncomfortable position so that I'm stuck that way. Anyways, so my cat scared the shit out of me after my already creepy dream and then, since I had disturbed him, he demanded to be let outside so I had to get up and give the little prince what he wanted, otherwise he'd make my life hell. That was my night.

I'm finally on the downhill slope of this semester, thankfully, so I'm relaxing a bit about my classes which is bad, because I still have a shit pot full of things to get done. A presentation accompanied by a paper and then another paper and like 1234983 more exams. Seriously. BUT, I mean next week I'm going to Indiana for Nad's wedding (yay! If I'm bitching about it being cold now, I'm truly fucked for Indiana near Thanksgiving time) and then it's Thanksgiving and then we're in December and there's only 2 weeks of class and then finals. Woah, like woah. Mixed in there is the most BA Holiday party that is ever going to be thrown that I've got to prep for plus christmas shopping. Hmm..... maybe I shouldn't relax JUST yet.

I officially can't feel my toes or fingers, so I'm not really sure how I'm typing, in fact, I cannot be held responsible for anything that was said because I can't feel my fingers so that means I'm not in control of them. They've got a mind of their own. Fuck, we better run, this could be like Idle Hands all over again. And if you have no idea what I'm talking about you better hit Blockbuster on your way home tonight. As for me, I'm off to get some tea to warm up, and then wield a scapel. Poor pigs, never saw it comin'.


I wonder if this is what the bubonic plauge felt like, minus the pus filled boils.

You know how they say those who come close to death come back with a touch of it? They see things, hear things, whatever. Well I guess that's me now then, cause I'm pretty darn sure I was close to death in the past few days, at least it felt like it. I don't know who gave it to me, but if I ever find out who you are you bastard I will hunt you down and smack the shit out of you! But someone gave me this wretched flu that is going around. Ever wondered what it feels like to have your body rolled in sharp pins and every time you move or think of moving or imagine yourself thinking of moving, they stab you? And yet you have to blow your nose because it's running like Niagara falls? And then when some kind force takes the pins away, they leave behind sinus pressure and a cough so bad it makes you want to puke? Well if you have, then this flu is for you. Needless to say after 4 days in bed I'm SO ready to join the living again, but lets see if my body is willing to let me.

In other news, Fresno State AGAIN is driving to either a.) drive me to commit murder b.) drive me bat shit crazy or c.) both a and b. When I went to London I took a genetics class, and before I left I had the genetics professor in the biology department sign off so that it would count for a specific class. Soooo.... the transcripts arrive at the International Office, or sent to Admissions and Records and what does it get input as? Some weird ass fucking numbered class that I've never even heard of. What does this mean? This means that I can't register for 2 of the classes I need that it is a pre-requisite for because THIS semester, the registration system actually checks for pre-reqs. UGH. So after calling the Evaluations office, behing on hold, getting called back, they basically say that I have to have the International Programs office request to have the classed changed to an upper division class and then have my college petition to have it fulfill a major requirement. Um, excuse me?! You fucked up and now I have to do all this freaking work? I don't think so. Instead I contacted both professors of the classes I needed, explained the situation, got permission numbers for the classes and BOOM, registered. Anna = 1 CSUF = 3982. Now if I could just hear a response on my petition for them to NOT cut off my financial aid for some ridiculous reason that they've concocted, all would be fairly well. With these classes for Spring, then I have 4 classes left. YES! FU fresno state I will be graduating whether you like it or NOT.

In better news, Princess, my pretty sow, finally farrowed! She had 12 piggies! But sadly, when I went to see her she only had 9 left. :( sad face. But so far they're doing good, so fingers crossed. They're so dang CUTE! Sad news though, 7 of them are boys. Which means 7 castrations when we do their 12 day weights. Ugh, no fun.

I feel like I've been out of touch with everyone lately, so you, there, you should call or text me so we can find a time to hang out. Yes, yes do it. Right MEOW!

I'm off to drink a gallon of nyquil and pass out. Peace.


I'm not a raving lunatic who walks around in dirty torn clothes and house shoes, but that doesn't make me any less rave-y

Here's the thing. You know those stupid little carts at grocery stores and Target and such, the ones that look like cars with the carts on the back so people's annoying, screaming and unsupervised children can scramble about inside the interior? I. HATE. THOSE. THINGS. They need to all be melted down and made into trash cans or something. Perfect of example of why they are impractical in any shopping situation was my trip to the grocery store on Sunday. The place was packed, because it was Sunday afternoon and apparently everyone and their damn mom goes to the grocery store on Sunday afternoon, a little fact that I didn't know until I dove head first into the shark pond. Ahem, anyways, so this place is bloody packed, everyone is standing in line at once to check out and WHAM, here comes a lady with the huge ass stupid shopping cart. She can't go around the back of the line, no. She has to maneuver that beast around a display and cut through a line of people nailing a teenage girl in the leg. Then she parks the beast where? Behind. Me. (Why world, WHY do you hate me so....) She's all up in my business, showing her kid candy he doesn't need because he's already running around acting like a huge jackass. Then they disappear and I say a little thanks to the heavens that I have a moment of silence and there is no longer a giant red car staring up my backside. Until I start getting rung up and just like a bad case of herpes... she's back again. I ignore her and her poor parenting skills, her screaming children that are already EATING the candy she hasn't paid for yet... just waiting until I can be free. And then... she rams her fucking car cart into my leg. Really? REALLY?! That really just happened. Yes. So I turn and look at her expecting some sort of apology and she just stares at me like I got in her way. O. M. G. If the teller hadn't told me to press the green button I might have jammed my fist into her neck. Hate those bastard carts and the bastard people who use them.

Since I'm talking about things that bug me, I really hate when people have my exact same car, to the color, and theirs is cleaner than mine and I pull up next to them or park near them. I just want to make their car dirty for showing mine up because I don't have time to keep it sparkly and clean all the time (like it totally deserves because my car is awesome and incredibly reliable and good to me, but alas, she deals with being dirty because I don't. have. time.) I don't know why this bothers me, I just feel like their showing me up or something and they too, need to be throat jabbed periodically.

With all the rain we got last night, my cat was pretty irritated that he couldn't go outside but not as irritated as his owner. Yes me. The dumb dumb kept going to the sliding glass door and making such a ruckus to go outside, so I would finally give in and open the door. He'd run out and then turn around and run right back in and look at me like, duuuude WTF?, and I'd say "it's raining fucker, you KNOW that." and return to what I was doing. Not two minutes later, he's back at the door, starting the process all over again. I wanted to drop kick him so bad. Luckily, I think he got the hint (or I slept through all his attempts to wake me up and let him out) because he didn't wake me up until it was right around time for me to get up anyways, but then he wasn't going out because I'd have to lure him inside again before I left and I was SO not going through that this morning.

This is a freaking long post about nothing but some ranting. Wow. Um, more rants then? I HATE CSUF because I only need about 9 classes before I can graduate and fulfill all my Vet school requirements, but of course next semester about 5 of those classes are offered at the same time. The same EXACT fucking time. What the deuce! And one of them isn't even being offered, and it wasn't offered this semester, so I don't know what the hell they expect me to do. I'm supposed to take it before another one, yeah, that's not happening. I'm taking the upper division one first so take that CSUF. Bollocks.

On a happy note, I'm off to Tucson in just about a week! for Cassie's wedding. But this also means I get to see Baby Julia! and Lindsey and Brian and the whole Grant clan and it's going to be amazing. And it's a road trip, which is always good times.

Final image to leave you with: Yesterday in my swine lab we were shifting hogs and a small group of us loaded some up onto the hydraulic trailer pulled by a tractor and instead of walking to the next barn, we just road in the back with the hogs. So I looked at my partner Claire and said "I hope they don't take me to market too, I'd get rejected for sure, too much gristle." Not funny? Maybe you had to be on the trailer....


Being able to make money being an asshole would kind of rule

So today was kind of going down the crapper, like a lot, until about 10 minutes ago when I checked my email and found this:

Hey Blogger - My name is David, I have been searching the Internet for blogs that fit our criteria. Yours does. I wanted to invite you to become a paid blogger at Blog Distributor. (Please understand that I do not send this invitation to every blogger I come across.)

Roughly 25% of bloggers are now being paid to write postings on their blogs, that are linked to websites. The value here is that, when a blog posting is linked to a website, that website will get higher rankings in the search engines, such as Google and Yahoo. You can write anything you think about the website, positive or negative.

The email continues, but you get the gist. And despite the ridiculousness of this email I had to follow the link to their website and "check it out", and I read the FAQ's and found this:

7. Can I write what I want in the blog posting? We want you to feel free to express your opinion. However, you cannot use problem language such as: adult content, profanity, hate or violent language, and your posting must be correctly spelled.

Um... yeah, this dude SO has not "checked out" my blog to
fit his criteria. And because of this I then had to respond the email to tell
him how jazzed I was because frankly, I couldn't resisit.

Hey David,

Thanks for your offer, it's very inticing. Does this mean you'll let me review any kind of website? Including really off the wall, bat shit crazy kind of stuff? Cause that would rule. Oh, and can I say bat shit crazy? Sorry, I know this should be a professional email but sometimes these things just slip right on through without me noticing it. I'm asking because on your website under the FAQ's it mentions no profanity or violent language can be used. And lets just be honest here David, who doesn't fantasize about fucking throat jabbing some people? I'm so glad my blog fits the criteria though, because I would have thought all those f-bombs I drop would have been giant red flags. So thanks for the opportunity!

Do you think you could email me some more detailed information on exactly what kind of reviews for products you're expecting? Do I need to try this shit out, on, or just pretend? I'm really good at pretending. And if I can get paid to do it? Even better. Thanks so much!


So we'll see if I get a response. My guess? No. BWHAHAHAHA. Yes, this just cheered me up. Now I'm off to Smart N Final to buy 5 gallons of bleach, 12 gallons of water, 10 bottles of hand sanitizer and some soap. Awesome.


Total. Random. Shit.

Best Quote: "I finally showed Shelly 'My Wena' and she loved it!" - Denise
Dumbest way I've hurt myself: Smashed my left foot in my car door... wearing flip-flops... trying to get INTO my car. Yeah.
Most exciting thing: Getting a B+ on my first biochem exam! and the weather, seriously.
Song stuck in my head: "Boys, Boys, Boys" by Lady GaGa

Um... and there are other things I could share, but that's you know, like the important shit. There was something totally funny that happened that I was going to share, but as usual, I forgot to post about it like right away, and now I forgot, because I'm an asshole like that.

OH, but I can share that I had the most wickedly frightening and yet totally intriguing dream Sunday night. I had a dream that 2 fellas, who I apparently knew but now couldn't tell you who they were, put me in a freaking mental institution. I kept trying to escape, and screaming at them like I wasn't crazy, but they kept telling me I would be ok, I just needed to let them help me as they locked my ass repeatedly in a padded cell and I somehow managed to escape and kept flogging them and telling them I wasn't crazy which I'm SURE only made them think I was more and more crazy and then I woke up. Yeah. I think my subconscious is trying to tell me I'm going nuts, but meh, I could be mistaken.

Happy hump day.


10 weeks and counting...

Ok so yes, yes I'm busy. Yes I have to schedule my life, like, kind of down to the minute. Does it blow? Yes. Is it just a sad fact? Yes. Does this make me happy? No. I have 3 exams this week which means reading, studying, etc. plus class, work, life and empty weekends that are filling up faster than I can blink. Next week? 2 exams. In a couple weeks I'm driving to Tucson for Cassie's wedding, and that week? I have 3 tests. My life is being consumed by tests! So please, stop giving me crap about things, mmkay? I'm trying here folks, I'm trying. I can't be in six places at once and I can't function on zero sleep because the small amount I get now is trying enough and sadly, I want to do well in my classes, all of them, all 19 units worth of them, which means I need to do work. Suck suck annnnd suck.

So here's me, treading water. 10 more weeks to go. Bare with me ya'll.

And so this isn't a total downer, this weekend I paraded around downtown Hanford wearing a clown nose, cause I'm awesome like that. Also? I have a mystery bruise, on the side of my knee, in the crease where my leg bends and it's HUGE and purple and hurts like a biznatch. How did it get there? Seriously, you'd think I'd remember whacking my leg right there? wtf?


Insightfulness? From me? Better run.

I know, I know, it's been like 2 weeks since I posted, but life as a working student = craptacularly busy. Speaking of, I'm off to do some Beef Production homework (oh yeah, you can be jealous) so here's a post I've been working on for awhile and wasn't sure I was ever going to put up because it's fairly personal and not my usual tone, but what the hell, I don't have time to do anything else and I don't want to get yelled at for not posting so here you go. If you don't want to read something that's not my usual snarkiness, then go here and reread how I'm like a new age Bridget Jones or you can go here and check out the awesome Bloggess and how she found the miracle boobie-mushroom.

I've freaking had it. I am so sick and tired of being judge by people who don't even know me. Can you look at me and tell what kind of person I am? No. Can you look at me and see what I've been through or am currently going through? No. So stop fucking judging.

You can't tell by looking at me that my father committed suicide when I was 10.
You can't tell that I'm afraid of spiders.
You can't tell that my relationship with my family isn't perfect even though I love them to death.
You can't tell that I've never really felt like I've fit in anywhere.
You can't tell that I'm desperately afraid of falling below the expectations others have of me.

And on and on. There are so many things about a person that are not reflected in their appearance or their actions (though I believe actions speak loudly to a persons character) that it is impossible to look at them and say you know them. Then why on earth is our society so fucked that it places so much importance on the exterior package? I've been called everything you can think of and the biggest one is intimidating. Why? Because I'm quiet when you first meet me? Because I look like a bitch? I just don't understand these things. Or because I'm a reasonably well adjusted, fairly successful female individual who is intelligent and doesn't take your shit? If that makes me intimidating, so be it.

I won't lie and say that I haven't given in to the pressures of our society to fit a mold that is impossible. I've spent the past 3ish years working on my physical appearance, and while I am still working on this issue and have done so to be healthier and feel better about myself, I would be lying if I didn't say that societal pressures helped fuel the need to change. Here are two pictures, the first taken in September of 2006, the second in May of 2009.

Big difference? Try about 75 pounds. Am I proud of this? HELL YES! That's several years of blood, sweat, tears, and many a painful sore day of waking up after a brutal day at the gym. But do I feel satisfied? Like I've done enough and now I just need to maintain a healthy lifestyle? No. And why? Because it still doesn't feel like enough. It still doesn't feel like I "fit in". I've spent the majority of my life not fitting in and generally, it doesn't matter. I've always been an oddball, in fact it's kind of part of my charm, but when it comes to people judging you, we all have insecurities because the world tells us that if we don't fit the norm, if we don't blend in with society, then we will not be as likely to succeed. Do I believe this in my heart of hearts? No. Because dammit if I spend 10 years in college and get multiple degrees and can't be successful because I'd rather live and eat icecream and cheeseburgers than have an eating disorder, then something is so fucked up with that I can't even wrap my mind around it.

There is a fantastic book (that kind of has nothing to do with this, but maybe a little) called Frenemies by Megan Crane, and the following is a passage that I think is fantastic and can probably describe almost every woman out there.
I had great plans to surgically excise the quaking, complaining teenager within someday. If I could just get rid of her and her thousands upon thousands of issues - Do I look fat? Am I ugly? Will anyone ever love me? Will I always be alone? Is she fatter than me? How ugly am I? Are they making fun of me? - I was convinced I would immediately become the sort of casual and laid back adult person who was forever smiling and was genuinely unconcerned with the size and/or shape of her body.
I wasn't holding my breath.
We are all insecure, unsure and a little afraid of what we can't see. So why do we spend all of time making each other feel like crap? Yes, I am perfectly aware that I am a snarky beetoch, who makes fun of people incessantly and uses sarcasm like it is my first language, but in all actuality I can't say I'd ever want to intentionally make someone question who they are by the words I use. So you there, who think you know me because of what you see, you're wrong. You might be able to see the bags under my eyes from working 36 hours a week and taking 19 units while trying to fulfill family and friend obligations, but you can't see the drive behind those bags that makes me want to put myself through all that.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that you don't know what a person has gone through to make them who they are. Those of you who have known me a long time, know a lot about why I am the way I am and why I make the decisions I make, and if you don't, then ask don't just assume. We need to realize that what we see on the surface is a fraction of who a person is or who they can become. So just stop judging. If a person drops the f-bomb all the time, that doesn't make them a bad person, it just makes them slightly less socially acceptable in mixed company. If a person is a little overweight, that doesn't make them a bad person or mean they deserve to have you make them feel uncomfortable, it just means that their body is different than yours. So yes, I cuss a lot, I'll never be a size 2, or hell even a size 10 probably, I'm picky and aggressive and driven, but I'm also incredibly giving, social with people I enjoy and a damn good time to be around.

Society makes it hard enough for us to live comfortably in our own skins, lets not make it any harder for eachother. Especially as women. We're bombarded with images of what society expects a woman to look like and guess what? She's not real. I have yet to meet a real woman who meets that kind of criteria, so any of you men reading this, just give it a rest already.

We're all imperfect, so lets just embrace each others imperfections, even if they annoy the shit out of us because I'll be the first to admit that I totally get annoyed and frustrated, but that doesn't give me the right to make that person feel bad about themselves (unless they're making me feel bad about MYSELF, because then it's just on, I'm all about self preservation!).

And society? Go fuck yourself with your ridiculous standards, I'm operating on my own and I don't give a shit if you agree.


It's an epidemic, or pandemic, or just a freaking conspiracy.

Fucking eh it's been like, a millenia since I blogged. Whatever. It's really because my life isn't that exciting. Unless you consider the fact that my insomnia is back exciting. I don't. And if you do, you're an asshole so get the hell out of here. Jerk. And I hate that I don't realize I'm not going to be able to sleep until it's too late to pop some freaking tylenol pm, b/c I'd love some of that shit right now, however, I'd be lights out until WAY past when I'm supposed to be at work ,which if you're counting, is just over 6 hours from now. UUUUUGGGHHH. (This could possibly be why I shouldn't allow myself to go to bed between 1-2 am during the weekends because my body's clock gets JACKED, but whatever, a girl's got to have fun sometimes.)

Ok so today Megan and I went shopping and basically the world hates me. Case #1: In American Eagle looking around, find cute top on bottom rack, set soda on shelf and grab top, touch shelf and SEND SODA FUCKING FLYING ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE AND SHELF CRASHING DOWN ON MY HEAD. Really? REALLY?! So then I feel/look like a total jackass as I'm running this dripping cup of soda out of the store leaving what totally looks like a pee-pee trail behind me (it was diet pepsi, honestly people) and then back in apologizing to the workers and begging for paper towels to clean up my mess. Case #2: Leave AE with little dignity in tact and enter NY&Co. Wander around, and somehow manage to rip my pinky toe off on one of the sale racks. Um, wow. Case #3: Go to payless, box of shoes jumps off the damn shelf at me. Case #4: Get shanked in the butt by a metal hanging display thing in Wet Seal. Case #5: uhh... something happened in Old Navy but now I can't remember. So, as you can see either the world truly wants to end me, or perhaps just maim me, or is telling me not to go shopping. But whatever, I made it out alive (sucker) and before I ran out of money. So HA!

This upcoming weekend I'm going to SF to see 2, count them 1. 2. concerts! Yippee! The Killers and then Blink 182 and Weezer. SO stoked. It's going to be awesome. And this past Saturday the college football season started, which basically rocks my world, and means that it's time to see some live games. Hell freaking yes. I swear, I'm such a boy. AND Kasey Kahne, totally won the race on Sunday. Damn, great month so far September, keep it up (minus those 2 tests I have coming up next week. Those, September, blow. Work on it.)

Normally here is where I'd try to leave you with some parting words of wisdom or witty repetoire, but I am so stinking tired that my brain will not function properly and YET cannot pass out. FML, seriously. Who's bringing me starbucks in the am? anyone? ANYONE? Grande Carmel Frap Lite? Please? Ugh, assholes.


That way I can never make you feel inferior, because I'm totally more deranged than you are.

How'd your hump day go? Mine went a little like this.

4:50 am - wake up call.
5:45 am - begin search for keys because not where they should be and need to leave to get to work.
5:50 am - find keys hanging in front door, where they clearly sat all night. brilliant.
6:00 am - get to work and tackle immense stack of form filing, that concluded in me get several bloody and painful cut hangnails from all the paper. lovely.
8:45 am - leave work after fielding 4 phone calls in the 5 minutes I was trying to leave my desk, and head to Fresno for class.
9:15 - hear it announced on the radio that Dane Cook is coming to Fresno.. SWEET! On 10/23, fuuuuuuck. I'll be in Arizona.
10:00 - sit through seriously boring Biochem lecture (I feel like I'm learning the same shit over and over and over again, enough already, let's get something new up in this place we call Biology!)
11:00 - sit through even more boring and pointless Swine Production lecture .... on ear notching.
12:00 - enjoy quiet lunch, whilst sweating to death because it's fucking ridiculously hot outside.
1:00 - sit through Beef Production video, zzzzzzzzzzz.
2:00 - Beef Production lab... watched 2 more videos. ugggh.
3:00 - FREEDOM! until 6.
6:00 - sit through almost 2 hours of the most ridiculous Information Systems class where we're learning what computers are and how to use them! HAHAHAHAH, this is so retarded I don't even think it warrants any more comments.
9:15 - finally make it home, where I do NOT leave the keys in the door and promptly make a large beverage... containing lots of rum.

Now that might not sound like such a difficult day or crappy day, until you factor in that I also realized half way through the day that I had fucking PINK shit all over my jeans. Hmm... where could that come from? Possibly from the rug washing incident. Fuck me. Really.

Ok, so people tend to tell me, often, "Gosh, you're so mean, hahaha!" or something along those lines because they don't understand sarcasm or witty banter. But then that got me thinking, maybe I am mean? Or am I really what I call just brutally honest? If you look dumb, I'll tell you so. If that is a stupid thing to say or do, I'll tell you so. But what's important in this lesson is also this, I AM THE MOST SOCIALLY AWKWARD PERSON EVER. Got it? good. So if I'm being "mean" to you, really, you have nothing to worry about because guaranteed if you hang around me a bit longer, I'll put my foot in my mouth, or fall and hurt myself or generally just do a really dumb thing, so see, we're all kindred spirits here. I'm just more vocal. So please stop telling me these things because after years of trying to change, it just ain't going to happen. You know how they say you can stick feathers up your butt, but that still doesn't make you a chicken? Well I can pretend to be nice all I want, but that doesn't make me not a bitch. In light of that, here is an amazing sticker I saw awhile back on my way to the gym.

Just don't do it.


The verdict came in, apparently my boobs can save the world

Wow, seriously, insomnia, you fucking blow. I haven't had a decent nights sleep since sometime last week and frankly, it's getting real old real quick. But whatever, such is my life.

As you can tell by the previous post, if you have no idea what I mean, check out a little ode to Billy Madison right here. Anyways, the semester has started and while I do not fear my classes being difficult because honestly nothing in this world can be as difficult as taking (and passing thankyouverymuch) Organic Chemistry and Physics at the same time, I fear them taking up WAY too much of my already limited time. Of course it's my own dumbass fault for taking 19 credits, which if read properly says "Anna is a complete dip shit". Read it again, I swear. So it's likely I won't be able to go back to working weekends at the zoo, which makes me even more sad because I love going to that place, despite not being able to sleep in, because it's the only opportunity I have around here to be around the kind of animals I want to work with. BIGFATSIGH. Bah.

ANYWAYS, the reason this started off talking abooot my inability to sleep and thus function as a semi-normal person, is to say that because of it, I had to hit up starbucks today around 8:30 (mind you I was at work at 6:00). Frap in hand, I'm at the stoplight to head back to work and this huge bread truck is turning through the intersection.... so I wait... and he stares at me... and I wait some more... and he keeps staring (which is really unnerving, I thought maybe I had a giant boogey hanging out but then realized he probably couldn't see THAT well into my car) until he realizes that, oh holy fuckballs, he's about to hit the median. HAHAHA, I laughed so hard I cried. It was kind of amazing. Alexis told me I should have flashed him so that he would have knocked the truck over, thus spilling bread onto the street and feeding all the starving children around. So apparently, by showing my boobs, I can fill the bellies of needy children. Why wasn't this newsflash sent out sooner? Or maybe that's what all the guys with "show your tits" written on paperplates are trying to do at the coast? naaaaaaah.

Today was my first day out at the swine unit and the moment I told Katie that she goes "Oh, that reminds me of that one security camera story..." to which I laughed and said "The pig fucker!" If I've never told you this story, where've you been? It's gross and funny and disturbing all at the same time. Kind of like me... I mean...


Updated (with all new A/V aid): And so it begins

Today I am reminde of Adam Sandler's "Back to School" song in Billy Madison. Perhpas I'll find a video of it later. But needless to say I packed my lunch, went to work from 6-9, commuted to school and have been in and out of class since 10. Ah, the joys of academia.

As promised, HERE is the video. Enjoy.


Ooohhhh No!

Best. Commercial. Ever.


Check it out, it's freaking great.


Apart from a classic list this post really has no significance to anyone but me I guess, and even then it's mostly pointless thoughts and complaints.

Here's a few things that are NOT ok:

1. Pay $400 for 3 text books. I'm still feel a little raped by the bookstore on that one. Curses to being in such an expensive major.

2. Wearing spanky shorts in public. I'm sorry girl in the cashiers lobby, I don't care what you look like or if your coming/going to volleyball practice or something, this is simply NOT ok. No one needs to see that, really, no one.

3. Having ONE mother effing class on Fridays, one, so I have to drive 40 minutes for a 50 minute class and then drive BACK 40 minutes to go back to work.

4. Getting paid once a month and this month having 5 weekends. This is not cool.

Annnnd that's all I've got on that topic right now. Semester starts again on Monday and I'm not really ready for it, surprise surprise.

The rest of this probably will lack it's usual snarkiness, so if that's what you're looking for you should go read about how I'm totally not suitable for parent hood or about my total Bridget Jones experience.

So I was talking to a friend the other day, a newer friend who doesn't know all of the in's and out's of my past yet. And she asked me where my dad was and that's when I realized I hadn't mentioned that he passed away when I was young. Which then made me realize that wow, I haven't really talked about him to my friends in awhile. That's not to say I don't think of him still or miss him when I do or wonder really, what he'd think of me and where I am in life. Would he be proud? Happy? Disappointed? I mean, I'll never know and perhaps that's the hardest part. This is totally pointless thinking but basically it means that even though he's been gone for just over 14 years, the questions still never go completely away.

Also, I've been totally panicking these days because I have around about 3 semesters left before grad/vet school but I have SO much to do before I can even apply still that I just don't know how it's all going to get done and that scares me even more because if I can't even freaking apply then it'll just be one more setback in a multitude of set-backs and that totally blows and kind of screws things up for me and my plans. Phew, yeah, I know.

So now that that's all out there in the open, I'm going to continue to lay in bed for a bit watching Cheaper by Dozen on tv b/c this movie makes me laugh and then I'm going to take a shower and go out into the real world to see the fam.



If they ever gave me a kid it be that whole "A dingo ate my baby" thing all over again

This is to all of you who ask me "Why don't you want kids?" "You'd be a great mom!" "Kids are fantastic!" etc, etc.

I would make a terrible mother. Not only did I not come home all day until 9:00 pm after leaving at like 7:30 this morning, but I also forgot to turn the air on so it was like an oven in my house and I basically tried to roast my poor 4-legged son. He was none to happy with me when I got home. It's like I stuck a baby in an oven and left it on broil all day. I'd leave the kid in the car without cracking the windows and forget until several hours later. I know, I'd call CPS on me too, which is why we'll just avoid that situation all together.

Also, kids say totally embarrassing things like the Garrett, my basically little brother, who is 2 years old. I was at my mom's and went to the restroom and I hear this:

Garrett: Where's Nana?
My mom: She's in the potty.
*BANG BANG BANG* on the bathroom door.
Door opened.
Garrett: Hi Nana.
Me: Hi buddy.
Garrett: What are you doing?
Me: Going potty. What are you, the bathroom monitor.
Take two steps into the living room.
Garrett: You go poop?

Uh, huh? No, no buddy I did not.

I need a disclaimer tattooed to my forehead: Not kid friendly (exceptions can be made)

(because despite his poop remark, he's still the cutest kid around)


A lesson learned and it only cost me $4.99 plus tax to fix

Apparently, you're actually supposed to READ the tags attached to things to find out how to properly clean them. Note here how this one says "Spot Clean Only"....

Which would be why, when I put it in the washer it you know, BLED all over everything else in there. After 3 washes it looked a bit like this...

Note the bright white looking rug, which would be the new one I purchased at Target today.

Well played rug, well played.

The Happening is on HBO and man, ok, seriously, if only I'd have had a teacher that looked like Mr. Marky Mark, DAMN Gina, damn. Now I'm off to the grocery store, I have a hankering to do some yummy dinner cooking and maybe some dessert baking. Time to put this new cookbook to use!


Unless you truly WANT to pay a surgeon for my eye replacement surgery or for the ambulance ride when I pass out.

Dear fellow gym members:

The following list is not to necessarily be seen as demands, but really, they are to be seen as well, stern suggestions that upon non-compliance could result in bodily harm against you.

Firstly, I understand a locker room is meant for changing and various other purposes. But, for the sanctity of ALL that is freaking holy, please wear some underwear that are not so entirely dingy white and threadbare that I can literally see your butt and butt crack. The economy is bad, but not that bad. If I see this again I may scratch out my eyeballs and running shrieking from the room continue to gag in silence. ALSO, whilst mid-change, you are no longer allowed to pick at whatever god-forsaken thing, bite, bump, etc that has manifested. It's gross and no one needs to see that, honestly.

One should know that when frequenting the gym, strenuous exercise is in store and in preparation for this one should wear god damn deodorant. Because, when you don't, and you get on a machine next to me, and your wretched left out in the sun onion smell wafts up into my nose while I'm working out, it causes me to gag and choke and want to cut my workout short so that I may breathe untainted air. Really, not cool.

Just a few tidbits, so lets work on these, mmkay? That way we can all have a pleasant, sweaty experience.

Your fellow gym user,

Now, in other news, I totally got stuck by 3-mother-fucking trains today. Three. THREE. Why must this town be split in two by the railroad tracks. And why must there always be a train when I need to get to the other side of town. And WHY must I always get caught when there are two trains passing each other going at a snails pace. Why? Because I suck, that's why.

Bring on some Tudors, I need to soothe myself with some half-naked Jonathan Rhys-Meyers and cheerful British accents.


Let's not see round 5 mmkay pumkin?

Round Four: Anna vs AT&T
Total Duration: 00:34:42 (of my life that I will never get back)
Issues: Transfered only once (thankfully), 3 way called (weird), HORRIFIC mouth breather.
Result: So far internet working (apparently they are completely MORONIC and allowed me to sign up for the fastest service when I can't actually get it b/c I'm too far from their base blah blah blabbity freaking blah. Basically, downgraded service is supposed to fix my issues). Generally after I call it works for like a day or two, so we shall wait and see...

The other day on my way to work I saw this girl... standing in the median... wearing camo pants, like literally, she was a floating torso, it was insane. Anyways, clearly she's trying to cross the street CLEARLY, but she's kind of crouched down and looks like she's about to use some highly skilled military maneuvers to make it across the street. She was using those shrubs as cover and waiting for the right moment to make her move. Well played floating torso lady, well played.

Um, that's all I've got, other than this week is pretty much going to blow. The funny bone is missing tonight, all I've got is this pile-o-self-pity. Damn.


I am Jack's insomnia

Points of fact:
1. People in this town cannot drive.

2. Do NOT yell at me when you turned in front of me to go the opposite direction and apparently felt like I needed to slow down so you could in fact go into the other lane of traffic. Your stupidity is not my fault.

3. Carmel Fraps are the gift from the gods.

4. My cat is going to be hairless pretty soon if he doesn't let me get some sleep.

5. AT&T is going to either a.) get some strongly worded letters and phone calls b.) lose a customer or c.) both, if this internet situation at my place is not resolved. soon.

6. I'm already so stressed out about this semester and it hasn't even started yet that it's ridiculous.

7. I haven't been to the gym in several days and it's kind of killing me a little on the inside.

8. The fact that my car tags went up 60 bucks chaps my ass so bad, I don't even have words to describe it.

9. Jean shopping is the worst thing on the planet.

10. I feel worse about item #7 considering the volume of Superior's Cookies ice cream I ate last night to help calm the stress.

There is this drawing at work, that has been driving me kind of crazy with hilarity for basically the entire time I've been back, so about 2 months. Take a gander.

Did you take a good long gander??? Now, my friends, what the hell does that look like to you?! Yes, yes, it's ok you can admit it. It looks like a cooter-pooter. A Vag. A whatever you want to call it, THAT is what I see everytime I walk through the reception area. A freaking vagina. And I'm not the only one who thinks this thankyouverymuch.

Now I'm going to go drink some more caffeine, pop an ibuprofen, crawl under my desk and curl up in the fetal position. Don't mind the whimpering.


Houston, we had a problem, you did nothing to fix it, so thankfully I'm brilliant and did it my own damn self

As promised... No Doubt vids! Uh, yeah, I know it kind of took forever, but blame that on my rondoness for not checking to make sure that all the chords and shit to my internet were working properly and could be what was interfering with my ability to use said internet AT&T not sending me new shit when I reconnected my internet. I think all is well with it now, but only time will tell I suppose. Hmm..

There's more stuff I'm sure I could say or whatever, but it's like past 10:30 and this Cinderella is going to turn into a pumpkin if she doesn't get to bed soon, either that or I'm going to stab the first person I see in the morning because I'll be that cranky unpleasant tired happy to be awake bright and early on a Monday morning.

Thank god for caffeine.

Oh, and this weekend was the first time I've let the cat out side since we moved to the new place and it seems to be going alright. He came back, which is a testament to his character that he actually came back to live with me when he had the choice to run. I'm not sure he digs the new neighborhood though because he's inside, passed out on the bed again after only being outside for a couple hours. Or I'm that entertaining. Nah..


Because it's Friday and we're all a little whack-a-doodle

This post is pretty much pointless, except for the shear freaking awesomeness of it. If you don't understand this picture, please, have life imitate art. Make the face, make the sound.... get it? I know, I know...



Where's Anna???
FYI: This is why I ran over my own foot with my chair this morning. Barefoot.


Words out, we kind of rock

My stupid internet is actually working right now, so I'm attempting to upload some of the craptacular quality videos I took during the concert on Saturday (for you Katie! and for me because lets face it, I'm pretty much a selfish bastard).

The rein of most uncoordinated is still mine. I managed to:
1.) run into my aunts office door
2.) trip over the box that's been next to my desk for a week
3.) hit my head on the car window at lunch
4.) splice my thumb open with my own fingernail.. from the index finger of the same freaking hand and managed to break that nail while doing it.

And this my friends, was all during an 8 hour work day.

It's come to light that I pretty much have the most kick ass, loyal friends ever. Ya'll pretty much rock my face off. I don't usually get super sentimental, and when I do it's usually tainted by some snarky remark, so don't blink cause you'll miss this.... are you ready... "I love you man!" Annnnd the moment is gone.

It's taking a damn millenia to upload these suckers, and I need to pass out soon b/c I'm surly enough with sleep, so without it, lets just say, woooah. What this boils down to is tonight, you get Paramore vids, and tomorrow, if you're lucky, No Doubt vids. 

Enjoy the show kids, I sure as hell did.


Pirate booty galore

You're in luck, b/c I remembered another rant I wanedt to post the other day (and this one makes me sound like even more of an asshole, squee!)

3. People who get stomach stapling, shrinking, rubber banding surgeries piss me off. PISS me off. Especially when they lose 65 lbs in a couple months or less doing ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING, when I busted my ass at the gym and ate right for almost 3 years to lose 75 lbs. You all, can suck it. Yeah, yeah, they have a "medical" reason... it's called being fat and not wanting to put forth the effort. I was fat too people, but I sweated, and I grunted my way to losing those pounds. Freaking cheaters.

Now, on less ranty/happier notes, my sis and I went to the Bay area this weekend to see No Doubt and Paramore in concert and needless to say we had our faces. rocked. I'll post photos as soon as my internet at home is working... again (ATT you're no longer on notice, you're in deep shit. someone will be getting an earful shortly!) The weather was beeeautiful and we contemplated straping the bed from our hotel room to the roof of her car b/c it was so fucking comfortable. I'd like to share some primo sister-talk gems with you. She sometimes likes to create her own words. Today's are "Knucklebutt" and "Faginator". I know, I know, she's kind of a genius.

Um, I'm still pretty much addicted to farmtown. It has kind of taken over my life. Seriously. I think I have a problem. But I'm almost to level 17 bitches! HA! Oh, speaking of bitches, if you're not an Always Sunny in Philedelphia fan then get the fuck out of here because we can no longer be friends..... still here? Then good, we're cool. The promos for the new season look AMAZING. Hello, Kitten Mittens? Glorious. I'd post a link to a youtube of it, but the internet I'm currently using doesn't allow me access (read: I'm at work).

I found this gem at work today:

Amazing, I know. I ALWAYS send boring overboard. It's a gift, you can be jealous, it's ok.

Now, if only I had some kitten mittens to go with my hat, I'd be golden.


Basically it's like doing a community service to the world ok

I need to rant for a few minutes. If you could give a shit less, skip down, or go away, because why would you read this is you didn't A.) give a shit or B.) want to laugh at/with/whatever me or C.) are NOT a douchebag (sorry, no douchies aloud).

1. Why do people back into parking spots?? This drives me BERSERK!! I want to stab them all in the face and and scream at them that whether they back into the spot or back out, they have to back up EITHER WAY! And it causes more traffic jams when they back in because they have to try harder not to hit the other cars next to them. Fucking park like a normal person so we can all get on with our lives.

2. Shufflers. Note to you shufflers: pick. up. your. feet. There are several shufflers in my department and the sound of their scuff-scuffing around is enough to drive a deaf man to cut off his ears. I want to put sticky tape on the toes of their shoes so when they try to shuffle their feet stick and they have to pick them up to move, kind of like when you put tape on a cats paw and they freak out.

Ok, so only 2 rants, but hey, this is serious stuff people.

I went to Starbucks on my way to work this morning and there was this old person in the car in front of me in the drive thru that presented this problem that I feel compelled to share with the world because I'm nice like that. Um, I couldn't tell if it was a man or woman, basically. So I figured, HEY look for facial hair cause it kind of looked like "they" had a mustache, but then I realized that there are lots of old ladies that have mustaches too, so how in the fuck are you supposed to be able to tell them apart if the old ladies refuse to maintainence that shit?? What I'm saying is don't be a mustachioed woman, clean it up ladies, so I can tell whether you're an old man or lady, mmmk?

Sara and I are heading to San Francisco this weekend to check out the No Doubt/Paramore concert and I'm pretty much so excited I might have wee'd myself a little. Not only do I get to see 2 kick ass bands, but I get to hang with my sis, so that'll be all good (so long as I don't get irritated and want to shank her or she doesn't get mad and punch me... it really hurts... she underestimates her buffedness. bitch.)

Just in case you're curious my obsessions for this week are:
1. Tudors - um, kind of basically awesome and the more shirtless Jonathan Rhys Meyers the better I say!

2. Farm Town on Facebook - curses to whomever told me to sign up for that application because it's so god damn addicting. I have to harvest and plow and grow more crops than anyone else because I'm totally fucking competitive I care about helping to provide food for the virtual world. Anyone feel like plowing? (and I die with second grade giggles everytime someone types in the chat "I'm an excellent plower!" "Will plow!" "I'll plow!" hehehe)

3. Taylor Swift's 'Fearless' cd - I'm not a huge country fan, but this CD is kind of great, very sing-a-long-able.

4. My sister's salsa - it's the shit, nothing else need be said.

Off to harvest some grapes, if they go to waste like they did a couple days ago, I just might lose my shit.


AT&T: you're on notice

Just registered my internet for the SECOND time. If I have to do it a third, heads will roll into scarab infested dirt.

Kind of like robocop on crack

Wow. Thursday? Really? Not Friday, but thursday? Sucktastic.

It's been a busy busy day, and honestly, pretty soon you're not going to be able to find me at my desk, because as you can see, it's um, not looking so hot.

Freaking August... oh wait, it's till July, then I want to know why everyone is on crack b/c this is just WRONG. And yes, my mess extends alll the way to the box lid in the left corner full of handbooks. Hmm... shit.

So I had another peanut go missing today, I know right? You're thinking "Jesus can't you keep track of those things woman?" and the answer is "No, so shut yo' face." I couldn't find it, and I made a thorough pat down check this time. A little while later I slid my shoes on to go out front (because yes they are rarely on my feet when I'm at my desk, I'm an oakie child at heart, so sue me, on second thought don't, because I don't have any money already and I have enough student loan debt to finance a small country so I don't need to make it any worse) and when I jammed my left foot into my shoe I had a princess and the pea experience, only it was more like the secretary and the peanut experience. The slippery sucker dropped into my shoe, weird (and no I did not eat it after that, that's gross, how could you even think that.)

Megan and I had lunch today and we've decided that um, we're pretty awesome and should do it more often.

Yeah that's it, I'm out of here, off to call ATT and chew some ass for my internet service STILL NOT WORKING at home, which is totally bollocks.


All I need is a bottle of vodka and some Celine Dion

Bridget Jones had it right when she asked what's worse than a smug married couple and answered herself with "Lots of smug married couples!" Because I totally felt like her last night. Except there was no Mark Darcy there to tell me he liked me just as I am. Ok, so it wasn't a horrible evening, but it was a tad on the awkward side, especially when the server came by to wrap things up.

Server: Ok everyone, now do we want these on separate checks or one check?
All: Separate.
Server: Sure thing, lets just see how we're going to split this up.
My sister: Well, we'll be on one together (indicating her and my brother-in-law)
Server: Oh, ok! Just split it up by couples then?
Me: Yeah, just split it up by couples!
My sister: You can just put his meal on her tab (points to the empty chair next to me)
Server: Um... ok...
My sister: He's a cheap date at least!

All of them can suck it. I like being single except in moments like that. One of the gal's husbands is an agriculture man and so as we're leaving my brother-in-law mentions how people in farming talk funny. My sister replies with "Yeah, it's like they speak vegetable ebonics!" and then we laughed ourselves into several asthma attacks.

I had some trail mix earlier today (yummy yummy roasted peanuts, raisins, almonds and walnuts!) and I thought I dropped a peanut but couldn't find it. So I go about my business and about an hour or so later I go to the restroom and when I look in the mirror I about have a heart attack because it looks like a third nipple sprouted up near the top of my boob! I poke at it and realize it's the mystery peanut caught between my shirt and tank top. Which is kind of awesome because that means that every person I walked by in the previous hour or so either though I had some weird lumpy mutation or that I was really cold and something wasn't right with that boob. Nice.

In other news, I may have clotheslined myself on my purse strap again only it was the strap of a different purse. Traitorous bastard.


Revenge of the Mondays or why having a weekend sucks because there is an end to it: part duex

As promised, horror filled stories full of humor and bodily functions from my family camping trip.

Except now that I'm sitting here trying to remember them.... I freaking can't, of course. I can tell you that my mom's boyfriend got super drunk and fell over their ice chest in front of their tent, which was kind of awesome. We got yelled at by the rangers because they have a 10pm "quiet time" rule, which apparently is like when you're at summer camp and they call lights out because they actually don't want you to be quiet, they want you to be silent and go to bed (not that I would ever know because I never went to summer camp because apparently my parents are assholes. Actually, no, I'm not really sad I missed out on the bug biting, canoe tipping, girl back stabbing action, so thanks mom!) ANYWAYS, so we thought we were being quiet, and by we I mean me and my sis and brother-in-law and cousins around my age who were sitting around playing drinking games, but the ranger thought otherwise (wanker). So Sara and I run to the bano after a game and realize the entire fucking campground is asleep, except for us. It was kind of creepy. And since we had consumed many alcohol units in a short amount of time we found this funny, as we skipped to the bathroom (I wonder if the song skip-to-my-lou stems from skipping to the bathroom, aka the loo.. hmmm?) and then we tried to giggle quietly, but that never happens.

Oh, also, earlier in the day Sara and I made a trip to the bano (hmm.. I sense a theme here) and when we get there, there are a bunch of teenage girls in the place because there is a bunch of YMCA groups there, and then all of a sudden it goes silent, and Sara sings "I think we're alone now.." and I chorus "There doesn't seem to be anyone around.." (yeah, we're kind of awesome, deal.) which of course made us laugh the rest of the day. And, earlier in the day she and I were playing Phase 10 and in this dumb game you have to make runs of cards, as it's kind of like rummy, and I blurted out "The runs are hard!!" which if you have a dirty gutter mind like me, instantly made me laugh because that's kind of a paradox. If it's the runs, it can't be hard. HA! :D

Sadly that's all the funnies I can remember. Work has been hell these past two days, but I'm officially the job description QUEEN as I've printed, organized, collated, etc. 326 job descriptions for our meetings at the beginning of August in 1.5 days, which is a new record ladies and gents (feel free to applaud, it's ok, you know you want to).

Also, I just found out that my "girls night out" dinner with my ladies from the gym has turned into a fucking couples dinner with me as the 9th-mother-fucking-wheel. Someone. shoot.me.please.

Maybe I can get the runs in the next couple hours...


Revenge of the Mondays or why having a weekend sucks because there is an end to it: part one

Oi, fucking Monday.

I've been trying to sit and write a quick post all day, but that has not happened. Tis the season to be crazy busy and inundated with crap to do. Joy! Joy!

This past week the fam went to Morro Bay for the annual camping trip, but as I was just on "vacation" (load of bollocks, I was in school people!!) for four months and I have a shit-ton-o-weddings to go to out of state coming up, I need to save my vacay time and decided I would just go for the weekend.
Before heading out of town I was gassing up my girl and as I'm doing so I notice I'm the young lady in the middle of an old-man-staring potluck. Seriously, every dude there was over 55 and apparently has never seen a 20 something girl pumping gas at 8:15 in the morning on a Saturday. I totally got the creepies and pulled out of there as quick as I could.
Sooo, I get to the camp and we went out on the beach to play in the sand with the little tyke. How many adults does it take to entertain a 2 y/old? 3. :) And this little guy was covered head to toe in sand, possibly b/c we found it hilarious to bury him in the sand... as did he.

Sara and I occupied ourselves by playing some Phase 10 (of which I will demand a rematch as she unfairly kicked. my. ass.) and by perhaps being bigger kids than the actual kids there.

Can you see the family resemblence?

Here are some shots of the area around the camp, we were basically right on the water in Morro Bay.

We took Holly the hound dog for a walk, and the sunset was beeeeuuutiful!

All in all, good times. I've got some funny stories, but they'll have to be part deux of this post, as I'm yet again, out of time.



7. Clotheslined myself on my own purse strap and nearly face planted (even though the purse is where it sits every day).

Addendum to previous post

6. Running into the empty Staples box that has been next to my desk for a day at full force and severing my leg off mid calf.

I think Staples is trying to kill me.

Is it pathetic when monkeys more dexterous than you?

It's done, over, finite! My asskicking class at the gym that is, which is kind of sad (and yet all of my muscles are doing the happy dance, which kind of means I look like an epileptic on crack, but whatever). Our last torture was to run 3 miles with stadiums... but we had to do so at 5:30 in the morning because A.) it's fucking hot by 7 am and B.) it's kind of my fault because I had to be to work by 7 but also another lady who has kids (ew) had to be home by 6:30 so bascially I'm going to blame it on her because I can be late to work but it's not like her kids can watch themselves, or could they? Hell so long as you lock up the draino and the sharp objects, they should be ok. Anyways, because it was so damn early the sun was still coming up it was actually really pretty, but still tainted because of the ungodly hour.

Last night I went to Lush with Denise (which is a wine bar, that also serves beer, but they have a shit ton-o-wine) and we ended up seeing some people she knew there, which was cool, but probaby one of the most hilarious things that has ever happened occurred when we're talking to 2 dudes and we're discussing tattoo's and she says no one really sees any but 1 of hers and I said that wasn't true because I see her peace sign all the time (it's on her hip, pervs...) and he asks at me and sort of gestures like this, "Are you guys...." and you can see his wheels churning on how to ask an awkward question without looking like a total douche, so I go "Are we what?" And he's all "Um, are you guys.................................... like sisters or roommates or something?" And so then I go, "No, why would you think that?" (or something like that, I'm trying to recall a conversation here folks, accuracy is not guaranteed) and he's all "Because you said you see her tattoo all the time.." and by this point you can tell he kind of might want the floor to swallow him because I've officially forced him to expose this awkward line of questioning and finally I just say "We're not gay." and he's all "Oh, ok" and nods and Denise just says "We're friends!" (Because she's super cute like that, in a non-gay way of course) and frankly I just found the situation so freaking hilarious because WHAT THE HELL?

In other news, my lovely little four-legged furry son decided to shank the shit out of my ankle the other night/morning. I think he was a little peeved that I left him at home all night while I went to see HP at midnight and decided at 3 am when I'm stumbling around my apartment trying to find my bed to pass out on that he would show my bare ankle just how irritated he was. Asshole.

There must be an international "most ungraceful and uncoordinated person" award out there and if so, I'm the champ. Need proof? Here is a slight list of how I've tried to maim myself in the past week or so.

1. Hit myself in the face with the handles on one of those hand baskets like at the grocery store, only this was at Staples and thank god I still had my sunglasses on because that would have been unpleasant.

2. Smashed my own leg in my OWN car door trying to close it.

3. Shortly after the smashing incident I tripped on the tiny stair up to Megan and Denise's front door.

4. I got shanked by a cat (ok technically that's not my own doing, but it warrant's a bit of talent).

5. On one of the machines at the gym I pulled the metal handle down and managed to punch myself in the eye with it (but sadly no black eye, so I didn't even get a war wound from that one)

Now if that doesn't make you feel good about yourself, I don't know what will.


If your morning smells like feces, that can't be a good sign.

When you have to start Monday morning off with a coffee just to wake-up when you're not normally a morning coffee person... that is a bad sign. It could also be that I knew this is what was waiting for me when I got to work.

*someday I'll see my desk again... someday*

I'm telling you I either need another vacation or a body double because for some reason my social calendar is too busy and since when did that happen? Friday night was my first official night "entertaining" in my new place! Dinner was cooked and consumed and the Wii party commenced (and so did learning that I really suck at Wii Mariokart, which was quite a blow to the ego). Then began Saturday, which was the longest fucking day on the planet. Up at 6:30, at the high school bowl at 7 to run with my class. 2 miles, 4 sets of stadium stairs, 6 sprints and 1oo lunges later I made my way to Sara's to organize picking up my washer and dryer that I scored for $100 (*fist pump!*). First stop - grandparents to pick up handtruck, Second stop - friend's house to pick up W/D and visit, Third stop - my place to unload (thank you to the best sister and brother-in-law around). Fourth stop - my couch for a much needed nap. Mom and company then came over to help hook up said W/D and bolt my head board. Fifth stop - back to grandparents to return hand truck, Sixth stop - the bank. Seventh stop - Megan and Denise's and Eigth stop - the fair where oh-so-much excitment was found. I don't know what the hell was up with me, but seriously, I was one sweaty beast when we got to the fair and was not wearing a sweat friendly shirt if you catch my drift. Let's just say lifting my arms up was NOT an option that evening. We wandered to fair, saw the bunnies (and one tried to commit suicide out of Denise's arms), and then meandered into the concert for the evening curtesy of Josh Gracin. Not a bad show really, and his guitarist/fiddlist/harmonica-ist was pretty dang hot, which helped.

Also, I may have met the love of my life there. Isn't he lovely?

*Ah, it's good to be back in h-town... HAHAHAHAH*

Josh Gracin also made an appearance in the crowd for his encore, and then walked through us to get to the stage. He kind of ran into me, but I'll let it slide, you know, since he's a celeb and all. After the show we went to find the house of mirrors so I could witness Denise in all her mirror-running-into glory and you know what, THAT THING FUCKING BLEW! I spent $4 bones to go in and it sucked, suckity-suck-sucked! But, on the bright side, we did get to see this lovely gem on the way to the beer garden afterwards. I had to resist stealing it from the young girl.

(click to enlarge...)

After passing out Saturday, I woke up bright and early Sunday to go to church w/ the grandparents and then head to a baseball game with my Papa. The game was great, a little long as it went 12 innings and despite the shade we were in I got a massive farmer's tan sunburn on my arms, but by the time we got home I was so freaking tired I went home plopped on my couch and only moved to eat dinner and go to bed.

But exhaustion is not an option! This week is full-o-fun including the MIDNIGHT RELEASE OF HARRY POTTER! which I'm totally going to, and having dinner with Aubs! who I haven't seen since we got back from London, so that'll be awesome.

Here's a few tips/thoughts/words of advice to leave you with:

1. I'm still going to stab this safety plan in the face.
2. Flipcharts suck ass to make.
3. Men - if you blow up the bathroom at work, USE THE CURTESY SPRAY! so that when I walk in the hallway I don't gag at the smell wafting out.
4. Don't make me repeat myself over and over again (fyi intern: you're on notice.)
5. Always wear good underwear, you never know what could happen.



It might sound like the beginning of a bad porno, but this is actually my life

Ok, so here’s one thing I’m thankful for today: Hot. Ass. Dish Network. Installers.

Seriously? Wow. Usually I just get the old men who are on the far side of the “too hairy” scale, sweat a bit too much and show me more butt crack than I care to ever see. But today, damn, damn, DAMN. And I’d like to thank him for taking off his Dish shirt and walking around in his tank-top, because that made my morning that much better.

And now I’m up and running with some boob tube, DVR’ing action.

One thing I’m not so thankful for is getting up at 5:40 this morning to go running. It’s not that I got up that much earlier than I would have had to if I was going to work, but still, it’s different when you’re going to work, than when you’re going to go and get hella sweaty and breathe so hard your lungs feel like the balloons inside a whoopee cushion because you’re breathing that hard. But, alas, I did it and feel all the more better for it. But really, I only did it because I can’t go to the gym tonight because I’m going to dinner and a movie with Shannon and Crystal. Ah, the rationalization I do is what gets me through the day. I also feel a little bit like I'm on crack because of the energy/endorphins from working out in the morning and then taking my CLA pills. Wowza!

Coming up soon, HP 6 ladies and gents! Am I going to the midnight showing with a group of awesome ladies (and a few gents)? Yes! Am I excited? Yes! Are we getting tickets today the day they go on sale? You bet your ass we are! In fact HERE they are!

Don't be jealous! :)

I’m surprised I can even type today after last night’s PT class at the gym. Because we worked our arms so dang much, in fact that’s all we worked, and I think my arms are now full of lead. I can’t really extend my right arm totally straight, because it hurts. Yes, I might be a slight wussy, but seriously, I have such a love/hate feeling for my trainer.

Other sweet news? I GOT MY Wii! That's right beeotches, it's Wii time (uh.. I do need to get 1 more remote though, so I have 2).

It's party time!

P.S. This day needs to be over, like now, b/c it's only getting worse, I'm only getting more and more fucking frustrated at work and I need a cocktail like A-freaking-SAP!

P.P.S. The need for an adult beverage is being made worse by the screaming child out front.


I cannot and will not be held accountable for the things that come out of my mouth, I blame it on the heat.

I may or may not have just dropped the f-bomb whilst talking to my boss.


Also, I've solidified my position as the world's most awesome collator. The pile from a week or so ago is finally complete, and ready to have another batch mixed up into this beeotch.

And after about an hour or so, thhhaaarrrr she blows.

But seriously, if a large gust of wind or an earthquake knocks this bad boy over, I'm going to be pissed. And possibly cry a little bit... or aLOTTA bit.

In other news (because, lets be honest, dropping the f-bomb in the context of "I fucking hate that thing" in reference to the project your boss is assigning you that you've done before and now have to update, trumps pretty much any other tid-bit of news), I'm getting my dish set up tomorrow, YAY! So excited. And, Target is trying to kill me by sending me one of my new Wii games, before my console has arrived. That's just MEAN.

Perhaps he was hungover from the holiday as well

Happy belated America's birthday day to everyone! Did you eat a lot? Good. Drink a bit? Good. Watch some shit blow up? Good.

Not much to share right now, but here is an awesome example of classic H-town brilliance. Look very closely at the numbers on the sign.

Yup. Awesome right? :)


What not to wear needs to be up in this mo' fo' directing the reprimanding

Here's the thing I don't get: why me?

"Why you what?" you may be asking yourself.

Well, let me tell you. I want to know why I am the subject of such scrutiny at work when it comes to my wardrobe. Seriously? Not. Cool. I dress very well compared to many others at my place of employment. When we are on professional dress, I always dress like I'm supposed to and when we're casual I never wear shorts (like I would anyways, ha.) or flip-flops (to much sadness). And yes, ok, I was unfortunately over blessed up stairs but I try my hardest not to be all clevagey because um, no, it's not ok, but sometimes despite my efforts it can be unavoidable. I don't wear super tight clothes and try to make sure my pants don't have frayage at the bottom because it's not allowed (seriously, I trim it up which let me tell you is basically a loosing battle because I'm kind of vertically challenged and walk on my pants all the time).

SO, my question dear friends, is what the hell? There are people in other departments that wear inappropriate things all the time. Either they are more tank-topish than we allow, their jeans are frayed, their shoes are SO freaking flip-flop (I don't care if they're leather folks) that it's ridiculous, or they wear bermuda shorts... even during professional dress. For reals, what. the. fuck. Do they get in trouble? No. Do they ever get sent home? No. Do I? Yes.

Ok, so today I'm not in trouble, but a manager did look at my shirt with a bit of disdain so I'm basically just waiting to be told that I can't wear it again. Which is gay, because look at this sucker, it's freaking c-u-t-e.

Seeeeeeeeeeee! Cute. (And yes I'm well aware this photo makes my upstairs looke GINORMOUS, but whatev, it was not an easy shot to get). I love boys that recycle, I mean come on, how can you hate on someone going green? :)

SO, my next move, should I be reprimanded for wearing a totally cute and normal t-shirt, shall be to dress like this...

Nuff said.

Oh, and p.s., we totally get 2 hours of paid leave today, squeeeeeeeee!, so I'm off at 2 pm bitches, hell. freaking. YES!


Who says government jobs are boring

Scene 1: Reception Desk
Customer: My name is blankity blank, and I need to pick up a certificated substitute application.
Me: Sure thing! Do you currently have a teaching credential or are you working towards one?
**side: there are 2 diff apps, this question is totally legit
Customer: NO! I'm retired.
Me: Um, ok. So, you're a retired... teacher?
Customer: Yes.
Me: So then you would have a teaching credential.
Customer: YES!

Fuck me dude, seriously.

Scene 2: Walking from bathroom to the front office
Co-worker: What?!?

cough note to self: smooth down back of skirt before exiting restroom. (Thank god I felt my skirt was funny before walking out front. Awesome.)

I'm not implying the race is androgynous because you simply can't trust a meth-head's judgment*

Tuesday officially became a randomly awesome day.

Firstly, I need to say a huge CONGRATU-FREAKIN-LATIONS to my friend Katie for not only having an interview yesterday with an awesome firm that she wanted to work for but also for getting the job! You rock lady! :D And now I can come visit you, possibly on our intended 6 month interval! I owe you one rum and coke to celebrate.

For lunch I went to Boston with "the crew" and as we're walking up someone calls out to me and what do you know, but trouble times two is heading towards Boston as well in the form of Megan and Denise (who apparently tried to call and text me but I'm totally lame, I mean, cough completely popular like that and just can't get to my phone all the time, jeez...), but they wanted me to meet them there, so it was like fate.

Then, Lindsey is in town from Arizona and we got together after work to have dinner and a coffee date (and she looks totally cute with her baby bump, by the way, though it still freaks me out that my friends are all getting married and now starting to have kids because I am in no, way, shape or form ready to do either of those things as I'm still a huge kid myself half the time, selfish? me? hell yes!). We went to Chinese food and my lord, most amazing experience ever. This group of ladies came into the restaurant and sat in this secluded boothy area for large parties. But then this lady, completely h-town style with 14 layers of eyeshadow, looked mildly like a meth-head, and was ghetto beyond all belief, stands up and starts staring out over the little partition wall at all the other patrons with her crazy eyes, and then she sits down. Then one of her gang friends - I mean companions does the same thing. THEN a little while later, ol' googly eye half-way stands up and starts going:

"Excuse me? Sir? Young sir come here. Excuse me! Sir! Can you come here please?"

Totally, thoroughly confused as to what in the hell this bat shit crazy lady is doing, Lindsey and I are kind of gawking with our mouths hanging open and then when I realize she's bellowing at the poor female waitress, I about pissed myself laughing. Lindsey was like "Is she talking about the waitress?" Um, yeah. Told you. Meth-head. Gotta love this town.

After dinner we head to Starbucks and who do we run into, but our ol' buddy CJ. We chat for a bit to catch up and then order our drinks (I am so in luuurve w/ Caramel Fraps it's fucking ridiculous) and the barristas working were just awesome. So nice and friendly and chatty, which normally pisses me the hell off because all I keep thinking is "I'm not here to be your damn friend so make my drink so I can get the hell out of here and enjoy it in silence" (so I'm a tad anti-social. shut. up.) but it wasn't annoying. We sat outside while the sun set and enjoyed our drinks and finished catching up on each other's lives. So great.

Once I got home, the cat-bad-mom-for-being-gone-ALL-day guilt kicked in, so I stayed up later than usual to make sure my old man was happy. Being that he's stuck inside all day until he gets used to the place and I can let him out, I feel ridiculously bad when he doesn't have any company all day. So we hung out on the couch while I watched some VMars, and based on his state here,

I think he likes the new place just fine. :)

Also, I think I know what the hell was wrong w/ my jank pinky on Monday. I think I may have burned it closing my car door and not realized it, which is really freaking ridiculous that it is hot enough for that to happen.

*If you don't know what androgynous means, check it out here. (I do what I can to help the vocabulary of America, now go use it in sentence, get creative, but don't get fired.)