Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Mystery solved

My classmate (D) walks in this morning and greats me with:
D: Hi Sarah. Hey, so do you ever answer your phone?
Me: So that was you calling me?
D: Yeah!
Me: oh, well, you didn't leave a message.
D: oh so you're one of those are you?
Me: Yes, yes I am.
No response.

Mystery solved

Also: complete random side note. I came home this weekend and my bedroom walls are pink pink pink! I love it! It's like bubble gum threw up in there. Squee!

Monday, March 30, 2009

Leave a Message

Number one: I don't answer my phone if I don't know the number.

Two: my voice mail clearly says: "leave a message" (though nowhere do I say I'll get back to you)

So leave one if you want me to call you back, not that hard. And I'm not calling you back unless you do either.

I have 4 missed calls from a number I don't recognize. One at 5:45-ish, and then other 3 are around 7-ish, 7:40-ish and 7:55-ish. And of course no message to even tell me who they are. Part of me wants to call them back and say, who are you? And also ask, why they hell did you call 4 times? Did you think at some point that maybe just once you would get the person you actually wanted to reach? This had to be their thought process: Gee, I've dialed this number 3 times, and I keep getting this Sarah person. Nah, I can't have the wrong number, the connection is just getting messed up somehow. I'm going to try again. Damn it! Sarah again!

When I first got my (old) new number, for a few weeks I kept getting calls for a Mikensy. And boy was she a party girl. I was not happy getting woken up at 3 am by drunk dial, and the slurring voice mail in the morning is not enjoyable either. One message leaver was all pissy because "I'm tryun to reash Mm'knseey, and yoorr Sharah." It was a crappy way to start my day. But I guess they left a message, so they got it partway right. I slurry "sorry for waking you up' would have been appreciated though.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Fishy Fishy

Truth be told, I'm not over him/it. I'm not crying anymore, and the epiphany was a milestone, but it wasn't a complete cure-all. Just because you know something is going to hurt, doesn't make it hurt any less. I won't deny that know what I was supposed to be doing on my wedding checklist if I were getting married in two months (sending the invites, ordering wedding bands, bridal shower...). I still keep track, and it saddens me that I'm not doing these things.

There are days that are harder then they should be, and I don't really know what triggers it sometimes. But as painful as everything was, given the chance to do it over, I would make the same choice. That makes me smile, smirk even. I'm going to go a lot farther in life because I left him. I'm not worrying about what color the table linens should be (pink, duh) and how to keep the future MiL from sugesting anymore crap (sometimes her helpful was just intrusive). I am worrying about my class schedule, what and when I can take certain classes. And I'm worried about getting into to pharamcy school in the first place too. I have a different checklist, and different goals now. A better checklist and way better goals. I have much bigger fish to fry. But part of me still kinda want that little fish too.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

The many phases of dog

When I'm in the mood to choke on cute: daily puppy (I'm reduced to gushy mushy fluff)
When I'm in the mood to laugh really hard: fail dogs. (I'm reduced to snorting laughter)
And when I'm in a really
really laughing/snarky mood: lol dogs. (I'm reduced to snorting/sometimes thinking I'm wittier though)
Who knew dogs could be such great entertainment!

Well, I did, after watching your puppy bark at the ice cubes in her water dish and then clearly walk around it to her food because she's scared of the ice cubes, you realize how much entertainment they provide.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

I heart you Jen Lancaster

I saw that my friend followed Jen Lancaster on Twitter, so I wanted to too (I am a sheep, I admit this). The next morning, I got an email from twitter that Jen Lancaster is now following me! I squealed a little. She follows over 5000 people, but I still think it's really cool that she took the 5 seconds to decided to follow me back even though she has no idea who I am except a fan.
Also, the terms asshat and f*cktard are now a solid part of my vocabulary, and I totally jenked them from her.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The Day I Did Math Outloud

When I worked retail (and I've learned this is counter-money making job for me) I dealt with numbers on a somewhat regular basis. Stuff like cost, how many left, sizes, nothing too serious.
Side note: just because sizes run a tad big here (lie) and some people do go down a size in those pants (lie again), your size 10 (actually 12) tush is still not going to fit in that 8 you are eye f*cking. And don't expect me to feel sorry for you when you can't suck it in and those 6's (!) you insisted I bring you won't go up your thighs
(this actually happened-hence the bitchy snark (but then what snark isn't bitchy?))

It's winter clearance time, so everything's about 20-40% off on top of it's already marked down we couldn't sell it full price before Christmas price. Since I'm in the cute clothes and wearing a head set (and probably gossiping w/my fabulous gay boss on it. We alerted each other if a cute boys walked in all the time on that thing), a teen-ish aged girl assumed I was an employee in the store. Rightly so really. Anyways, she stops me, hold up a scarf and asks the normal sale question: "how much is this?" Because I am physically lazy (stand/walk 4 hours in your heels, you get tired too), instead of walking the 15 feet to the registers and scanning the thing for a price check, I start to figure out the math out loud. And we all know how fast I talk, so imagine how fast this all came spewing out.

"Ok it's 78.99 originally (seriously, a scarf for that much?) which is almost 80. It's 20% off because it's winter wear and 10% of 80 is 8 so 20% is times 2 which is 16. 80 minus 16 is 64 but I'm just going to say 65 to make it easier for me. And 30% off of that, so 10% of 65 is 6.5, times 70% is....about foourrrty fiiiive... Give or take a few dollars since I rounded up and down but I also didn't figure tax. Ok?"

She is standing with her mouth slightly open and then actually said "wow." To me it was basic math, but I guess since I did it on the spot w/out a calculator impressed her. Not enough to buy the scarf though. Not that I blame her too much, I wouldn't buy it myself, even with my employee discount on top of that (which was 30%, so 10% of 45 is 4.5, times 7 is...31.5).

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


Happy 24th Amy!!

I must have missed that day in a$$h0le school

Scene: blue Prius, 6:00 pm on a Friday night, rush hour traffic. Have been driving to Norfolk, VA for almost 9 hours by this point. Approaching bridge/tunnel/bridge combo to get into Norfolk. NPR is staticy and have already heard all the stories. Just want to reach destination 15 miles away (according to gps)

Gridlock isn't fun, but it's not something worth getting super mad about. It annoys me yes, but it's not like anyone is going to get anywhere any faster then the people around them stuck in traffic too. Well, I wasn't paying the closet of attention and the lane next to me was about to end. A car merged in front of me, not that big of a deal really.

But the car behind me thought differently, because they lay their horn, seriously pissed that I (gasp!) let some in, in this 5 mph traffic. I glanced back in my rear view mirror and they are flicking me off on top of the asshole honking.

So being the mature person that I am, I let another car (a full size Yucon no less) in. And when the asshat laid on their horn (like I knew they would), I flicked them off in return. And then creeped along the bridge along side everyone else.

You know, I think I'm a fairly nice person, but I'm pretty sure I was justified in being an asshole in that case.

Sunday, March 22, 2009


Quick update: Saturday I ran the 8K in 52:57! That's 4.9 miles, which put my pace a little bellow an 11 minute mile. This just gave me a confidence boost for my half in April, which I needed.
So yay flat courses, cute running clothes and a sister cheering me on from the sidelines
And Amy did awesome in her marathon, she broke the 4 hour mark! Holy crap, she ran 26.2 miles in just under 4 hours! Way to go!

I used a clapper thingy to cheer on everyone and I occasional shouted out "good job so and so (the race numbers had people's names on them), or a way to go runners! or a loud wooo hooo! for all the marathon runners while we waited for her to run past (by the way, the elites are scary good. and scary fast). And I hoped I encouraged people. Because I appreciated the cheers the races I ran, it gave me that extra push. let's hope karma works for me Derby race weekend.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Wish me Luck!

I'm off to Virgina Beach this weekend to run an 8k. It's pretty close to what my long run should be this weekend anyway for my training schedule. I've decided my goal for the derby half will be the same as it was for the pig half: finish and not die. Good M.O. I think.

But I'm also going to cheer my sister on in her 3rd, yes 3rd marathon on Sunday. Good luck Amy, kick those 26.2 miles ass! (that .2 is very important by the way). Running for 4+ hours...not my thing. I'll stick to 13.1 mile for 2 and 1/2 hours. But more power to you Amy!

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Baby! (not mine)

I know it's not my place to spread the news or announce, but I'm so excited and want to say congratulations to my good friends on their new baby! Their little girl was born yesterday afternoon on St Patty's day, healthy, and she's just beautiful!

Holy crap my friends have a daughter!

You know, something about the words son or daughter, makes it seem that much more, to me. I'm having a hard time describing how, but it does. Over Christmas, I over heard my friend introduce her child to a mutual friend of ours as "this is my son!" And even though I've know the baby for a while, it struck me that time, oh my god, that's her son. I can tell from the way my parents refer to my sister and I sometimes, not as the girls, the kids, or their children. But when they refer to us as a daughter, there's a different inflection. You don't even hear it unless you are really listening for it. There's just something about it, son and daughters, that strikes closer to the heart. Simple words, but an unbelievable amount of impact.

Congratulations again you two (now 3)! I can't wait to meet her!

(updated on 22nd) I just saw the pictures online and I burst into tears, and made all sorts of squeeely noises. She's absolutely beautiful.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


I got an email from the ex, bla bla blah. When I got to keep the dog I decided I could handle an email every now and again if he wanted to know about her. And so far, it's been ok, they're few and far between (you know, the band just keeps him soooo busy), and I just skim over the band bull shit he keeps telling me (so 95% of the email). He still finds me funny (I can write a witty email), and the little snippets of my life I tell him impresses him. Apparently having goals (you know, pharmacy, and having a back up plan just in case I don't get into school) is impressive to him. I guess anything's impressive to someone who's never had a realistic goal.

But here's where the epiphany comes in. The drummer of the band knocked up his girlfriend and she's due in 2 months. Surprise surprise, the two idiots don't know how to use birth control properly. But anyway, the ex seems to think the baby will have little if any impact on the band. Which is of course right on the verge of putting out it's full length album (snort) and also about to hire a manager (snort again). And I'm thinking, you idiot, a baby changes everything.

And it hit me: Holy crap. I made the right choice. Oh my god, I made the right choice. I made the right choice!

I know I've said that before, but this is the first time I've truly felt it. I've been wrestling with the did I make the right choice feelings for a while. And I was definitely leaning toward the yes I did side. But his email was kind enough to confirm that for me.

I made the right choice. I'm going to be OK. You should see the smile on my face. I made the right choice!

Monday, March 16, 2009

Twitter 2.0

I used to have a thing for John Mayer. Well, I still kind of do, but not to the same extent. What? There's nothing wrong with a slightly unhealthy obsession. So I may have been convinced I was going to marry him and change my entire name to Mrs John Mayer... This was during my musician phase (stupid phase). And I found his wit charming and snark hilarious. But now with his one sided flirting with the paparazzi, (and you know they only care if he's dating Jennifer Aniston) that wit...not as charming.

Anyway, he has a new album coming out soon, and I'm not anti-John Mayer, just not unhealthy obsessed anymore. And TMZ is always reporting he's twittering, so I figured, well why not? I find him, hit follow (because he's not one of those people who protects their updates), and suddenly my homepage had 20 more messages/inside jokes that I don't get. I made a couple wtf noises and realized, oh right, I don't care anymore. So less then minute later I clicked un-follow.

I think I'll keep my twitter following to non-publicity whores from now one. So just my friends really. But I made an exception: Tina Fey. Because I have such a girl crush on her, and I am not ashamed to admit it.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Spring Break

I did the Spring break trip once, my freshman year when I was 18. And it wasn't all that it's cracked up to be really. Number one, I went with my boyfriend at the time and his frat friends. Two, the weather sucked. Spend 4 days cooped up in a hotel with 6 loud smelly frat guys and their girls-of-the-week, you'd start wondering what the hell you got yourself into too. Needless to say, I haven't done the traditional college spring break since. And while I don't party like a rock star anymore, at least I can say I've never done anything I'm completely ashamed of (a few things I'm embarrassed to admit, yes, but ashamed? No).

Well, it's spring break for UK this week. And I can't say I'm itching to go spend a week at the beach with a bunch of underage binge drinkers. Whatever, I don't care if people want to partake in the festivities. That doesn't annoy me. What does though, were all the "come back with a tan, not an std" articles in the school paper in the week leading up to spring break. I want to know how people don't know about these things. Am I the only one who paid attention in sex-ed class in high school? Because that's when I learned all that stuff. I get that at little po-dunk schools might not have a sex ed class due to the sex-makes-you-a-dirty-whore-but-we'll-claim-it's-budget-cuts-so-we-don't-have-to-teach-you-mentality-of-the-south. And I'm fine with a random hookup every now and again, but be safe about it. And if you are not mature enough to take care of yourself sexually, then 9 times out of 10, you pretty much deserve the whore disease.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Scaredy Cat (that would be me)

We (ok, mom and dad) got an invisible fence for Bailey. There's mini dvd how to train her and it's basically show the border, temp to border, try to get her to stay inside borders ("the center of the yard is a happy playful place"). And you do this process over the course of a month, in 2 stages. Both with the zap collar on, but the first stage w/something covering the zap thingys. So it just beeps and doesn't zap yet.

Well today, we're outside doing our lesson, all is going well. I'm tossing a ball around trying to get her to chase it, but she's not going to the border/flag line because she knows I'll pull her away like I'm supposed to do. I'm reaching down to pick up the ball, but to the horror of all horrors, I saw a snake in the grass too. It only takes me a nanno-second to shriek at the top of my lungs and then bolt clear out of the yard, (and way past the invisible fence) practically dragging Bailey with me on her leash. Thank god we're still in the beeping phase. Because in my blind panic caused by what was probably a small garden snake, as I was crossing the flag line, I thought "f*ck the border! Snake! Must run for our lives!!" While she was thinking: oh mommy wants to sprint yay! (which I didn't, I already ran today and am not in the mood to go again)

Have I mentioned I'm terrified of snakes? TERRIFIED. Because if you hadn't figure that out by my above reaction, um yeah, terrified.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

List of Random Thoughts

It's exactly what it sounds like. These are a few of the (many) random thoughts I can recall from my day:
  • On bus to school-notice guy walking: Is that dude wearing girl sweatpants? Oh oh! Walk of shame! Walk of shame!
  • In bio class when a picture of a cheetah is on the screen: Kitty! F*ck! ::laugh:: (inside joke)
  • Later in class, seriously, cannot stop self from giggling over Kitty! F*ck
  • Eww, spider ::squish w/my shoe:: Hmm, Is it wrong that I just killed that spider in biology class?
  • Mumble something funny to myself, start to giggle. Thought: "oh crap I'm that person in class!"
  • And still laughing at Kitty! F*ck.
  • Walking to the gym: why is everyone so tan? And dude, flip-flops in 30 degree weather? No.
  • While running: ahh not coordinated! Must walk to drink water! Hey, why does my "virtual trainer" have such huge boobs?
  • While stretching: Why do all the cute boys come out when I like like ass?
  • Walking to bus stop as shorts are bunching under my workout pants: Well this is highly unpleasant!
  • When taking Bailey for a walk: I wonder if she'd wear a cape for Halloween?
  • While at work: the Oscar Mayer bologna jingle. 'Cause Oscar Mayer has a way with b-o-l-o-g-n-a:: Now it's in your head too! (you're welcome)
  • After changing into my pj's: How are my pants on backward?

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Well Lookie There

So: baggy work out clothes = feel like troll = bad run = pissy Sarah.

Cute running clothes = less trollish = good run = happy Sarah.
Turns out, there's a direct correlation!

Also? I took a spiffier treadmill (you can plug your i-pod into the machine and play with a touch screen) that faces the window so I couldn't see all the cute tan people walk by either (why is everyone live-in-the-tropics-tan by the way? It's March, in Kentucky(and before spring break). Sandy white beaches we do not have.). Hahaha! I can't see you!
But I felt so much better since I was able to keep a 11.34 minute mile pace (thank you treadmill for doing the math for me) that I even went over to the weight station area to do a little arm work. I did (maybe?) 6 reps and said, "pbfft, now
this is boring."

Monday, March 9, 2009

Mother Nature is Mocking Me

So here I am, trying to balance school/homework, work, and training for a half marathon in a month. I'm trying to run outdoors. I really really am. But March is so, so, sooooo windy. And it's pissing me off. Serious pissing me off, screaming obscenities (which does not bode well for breathing) and crying frustrated tears (which does not bode well for hydration) while running because I'm so slow. Running into the wind literally feels like I'm hurling myself against a brick wall and I don't even have bruises/battle scars to show for it.

I would like to take 10-15 minutes off my time this half, but I don't think it's going to happen. At least with the way my runs have been going outside. I'll try to get miles on the treadmill/ indoor track at the gym. But it's not the same. Because running in a environmentally controlled cavern with a regulated pace and no incline (seriously, I hate inclines) is not the same as running on the street, exposed to the elements and 1000s of people around you. At least there are water stations along the way during a race (and I'll suck a gel pack down around mile 7).

But I did get some cuter running clothes, so maybe I won't feel as trollish at the gym anymore. And there's always the excitement of the race as well to push me through. I guess my goal should be the same this time: finish and not die. And it got me through the first race, it can get me through this one too. Plus: this half I get to run where the ponies run and less hills.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Annoy Me

A few things that have annoyed me the past few weeks and the actions to fix these egregious offenses:
  • The kid who sits directly behind me in math class is a mouth breather. And it's not like it's the only seat available. No he sits directly behind me. Mouth breathing. On my neck. Solution: punch him in the throat. (I'm not changing seats, I was there first (and getting better grades so there))
  • The clumsy guy behind me in biology keeps shifting in his seat and kicking my chair. Solution: amputate his foot with my pen (I just moved down a couple chairs the next class)
  • The kid who keeps getting 5 calls during a lecture and will not turn off the ringer despite getting 5 calls a class. Solution: shove phone up nose and then keep calling it (it's just funny to shove things up people's noses).
  • Anyone who uses the word like more then 5 times in a sentence. Also uses text messaging lingo in real speaking. "OMG"- NO. Solution: DUCT TAPE (or throat punch)
  • Tonya Harding's sausage-link she thinks are bangs. Solution: a flat iron and stylist who doesn't work out of a trailer.
  • Kentucky weather. (14 degrees, 55 degrees, 20 degrees in 3 days. That ain't cool.) I know it's sporadic, that's just how it is. But it still annoys me. No solution really, just felt like bitching

Saturday, March 7, 2009


Six months ago there was an ultimatum. I originally gave him 6 months to decide between me and (what I think is) a future in Lexington, or life as is in Cincinnati-without me. And that was just to decide, he wanted at least another 6 months after the choice to tie up loose ends (aka, get 300 "last shows" in) if he picked me. I honestly don't know who/what he would have chosen. And it makes me sad I don't know. Not the decision itself, but that I was unsure of what he would do. To save us both a lot of wish-washing, I took the ultimatum off the table and ended the relationship for good, just shy a month the start of the "break." He probably hadn't even thought about anything yet. And since I told him he didn't have to make a choice anymore, I know he never thought about it again.

And while I say I don't know what he would have picked, I think I do know, and it wouldn't have been me. I think he knows that too. Of course I could be over estimating him there. I think he wants to believe that he would have picked me and I didn't give him a chance to prove it. But even if he had moved here, as my friend point out, the relationship was going to be full of resentfulness from one side or the other. Mine if we were in Cincinnati, his if we were in Lexington.

Even though I know the end result, I wonder if I made that final call too quickly. Maybe we could have lived happily ever after together. I do know he's never going to leave Cincinnati. I know he's never going to be the rock star he thinks he'll be. And I hope he never gets someone as good as me ever again. I still love him, but not as much, and maybe a part of me always will. Maybe one day I'll truly wish him well (because I so don't right now). But I don't think I made the wrong call, even if it was a bit fast. There were just too many maybes for my comfort. Maybe, just maybe, he'll never get another girlfriend or marry and pine for me forever. It's petty, but that's a maybe I'm willing to hold on to.

Friday, March 6, 2009

What Do YOU Wear to the Gym?

I wear shorts and a t-shirt (which is usually baggy). Sometimes I wear a running top, since those things are awesome, but I only own 2 of those, so I save them for my long runs or really hot days like I did last training (the hot days were all the time last year, I did a lot of laundry). And if I remember, I wear a head band to hold back my wispy bangs. Makeup? No. Jewelry? No. (I did run with my engagement ring though, not that that maters anymore).

I didn't know it was possible to feel under dressed at the gym. But today I was proven very wrong. Now I know I was one of the thinnest people there. Whoo hoo, I'm small, lucky me. But when you are surrounded by cute curvy girls in their pretty form fitting designer work out clothes, and 2 carats in each ear, olive skin, eyeliner that doesn't run, and they are barely breaking a sweat, flipping through a Glamor magazine with their pretty french nails, and you are dripping sweat through your baggy t-shirt, the mascara you put on 4 hours ago smeared across your cheeks, your legs look as pale and soft as butter, while you gasp for air bouncing on the treadmill while the whole thing shakes because you cannot find a good stride, you feel like an ugly awkward troll.

Now excuse me, I'm going to find a bridge to hide under.

Thursday, March 5, 2009


I mention a boy in a blog and I never talk to him again. I sort of want to stalk him on facebook (becasue I totally didn't (lie) do search on our work on the chance he might be there...), but he's one of those who you have to be friends with to see their profile. Which is how I've got my profile set, so I shouldn't talk too much. (though I don't have any work info in my profile so if he's facebook stalking me, that search option won't work). And then if he did friend me (because I rarely friend people), he could read my blog and then he would know I was talking about him! Oh noes! Right, I didn't jump 1000 steps or anything.

Oh well, I have my Med School Friend (when she graduates in May and is Dr (squee!) (is it run on that I have parenthesis w/in parenthesis w/in parenthesis? (little bit?)), I will more then likely refer to her as my Dr friend. Or I could just call her by her name...) working on snagging me an anesthesiologist because that's the rotation she's on.

Think of it, I deal the drugs, he dispenses them. It would be like our own little drug cartel. Plus when I'm having babies, I want him knowing the staff who's sticking the giant needle with happy medicine in my back.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Still don't like to Sweat

So yay uk's gym! Seriously good stuff there. I was going to go yesterday, but um, I couldn't find it. Turns out I was on the complete wrong end of campus. Now you would think that after 6 years of design school, and you know, creating floor plans, I would be able to read a map. Apparently not. I still look at the map on a regular basis though. Think I'll learn where everything is?

But anyway, today I found it. I knew I was headed in the right direction, but then I saw a girl walking in a pair of shorts, so I said to myself "follow the shorts!" It's got all the regular gym fare, but also an indoor track, a few basketball courts (where you will never find me-unless I start dating a basketball player making me a mini celeb), a climbing wall, and they provide sweat towels. I like the gym!

And I didn't even explore the aquatic center. I don't know if I would like swimming laps though. If I can get bored ruining after 20 minutes, something tells me laps would be even more tedious. At least running I can I play with my music and mouth the words along, and methinks that wouldn't work for swimming (at least if I don't care to drown). Also, I don't think I can swim strait.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

I pod

I'm a bit tired of my music selection so I decided it was time to update my i-pod. I've moved my music library to another computer before, so I knew I can get the stuff I've purchased from i-tunes, but not everything on my i-pod will transfer (more on that later).

So in my updating process, I dug up my old cds ("update" doesn't always mean newest stuff). Most of my cd's are Disney Soundtracks and boy bands. Awesome (seriously, awesome). I also found a ton of mixed cds I made my first few years in college (you know, when people still carried portable cd players). I even found the cd of my old marching band shows. Squee!

But as I mentioned before , I knew some things wouldn't transfer. I may have "found" a few songs on the interwebs, and put those on the ex's computer and then on my i-pod (he hated it when my "pop crap" ended up on his Zune. I hated all his music in general. Fair trade?). But I'm not too worried about getting those, I've requested some of them from the library so it's only a matter of time before I have them again. But wouldn't you know, some things I just wont be able to find and they won't it back into my library. Like, the ex's band stuff, somehow got lost in the transfer. Oops! (not really)

Monday, March 2, 2009

Where's My Boy Next Door?

According to Wiki the boy next door is "often invoked in American contexts to indicate wholesome, unassuming, or "average" masculinity. He is a young man who is just discovering his physical and spiritual strengths, and still maintains an innocent wonder about them."

Yay for that description. He's a sweet, cute, yadda yadda wonderful things, it's a ubiquitous term. So here's my thought. These boy-next-door's are out there. And they have to live somewhere. So in theory, they are actually are someone's next door neighbor. Well how come they don't live next to me? Or even down the street or in the neighbor hood? (it might be due to the fact that I live in my parent's house and there are not a lot of "kids" my age around anymore. Perhaps it's because they all moved out like grown ups?)

Well, I think I would like this BND type. I'm sure some of my boyfriends have been this before, no? And I liked them then, so I should still like them now. So where are you BND? Come out and play! However, I don't think I'm the girl-next-door. No seriously, I'm not, I took an online test and I am not the girl next door.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Boo to today

I feel like ass today. My nose is runny, my throat is raw from the runny, and the sneezing isn't doing anything except annoying the f*ck out of me. More bitching:

I went for a long run today, and it was a horrible run. No matter what direction I faced, I was running into really strong wind. And wind may not sound like a big deal, but it took me over an hour to run 4 miles. That's really slow, like retard child slow (I so don't care how un-pc that is). On top of the R.C. pace, I slipped on the one patch of black ice that hadn't melted. I caught myself, but I came down really hard on my palm and bruised it pretty bad. But there's no telltale purple discoloration, nope it looks perfectly fine but I can't even pet the dog w/out wincing.

Because it took fo- ev- er to run, I didn't have time to stretch before I had to shower for work. Does a scalding hot shower substitute for a good stretch? Nope, and I'm paying for that tomorrow when I can't walk. Because I'm already in a self loathing place, I gave myself a once over look before I left. And my suspicions are confirmed, I look and feel like a bloated whale in the most unflattering jeans I own (why do I still have those now I wonder?) It's like a rotten cherry on top.

I should be searching for articles/doing homework, but that's all I did this weekend. And I just don't want to read/write/study anything else. So I'm blogging instead.

Boo to today. I'm going to bed.