Source Materials

So since multiple intelligence sources have reported on Russian hacking but this most recent one's claims of pres-elect being in collusion with Russia are unsubstantiated, it's to be dismissed as "fake" and ignored and we're on the cusp of him taking office. (***cries*** so many CRIES). And while the details and level of collusion may very well end up being over inflated, there's still enough evidence that Russia hacking our election isn't fake.

However, one redit thread with the pizzagate conspiracy a week before the election and has actually been proven to be fake and should have been dismissed, was enough that a shooting an assault riffle into an occupied public space was considered acceptable enough behavior. One source, no evidence and vigilante justice.

This does not bode well to me. The next 4 years (please, please please only 4 years) are going to be tough.

Speed

The other day I left a message on our answering machine for my husband about dinner, and I listened to it before I erased it. Holy crap I talk fast. So I said to my husband:

me: So as I was listening to the message I left the other day about dinner, I realized two things:
One: wow, I really do sound like my mom.
And two: How on earth do you understand me?

Seriously, how does he?

Decipher

student: So, like, my, like, can, um you, like, um, wait.
me (totally confused): Ok...
student: Ok, like, my teacher, like um someone, like, told like me you can um like, um order a like book, like like and um like um someone, like like um they'll like send it some-um-where like um here and like you I mean me can like, pick it, like up here like? Um, yeah
--15 seconds pass while I stare at him even more confused--
me: I have no idea what you just asked me.
student: oh, oh ok, like,
me: Ok, if you are asking if you can request a book or material online, the answer is yes. And if the material is available someone from our staff will pull it for you and we'll put it on our hold shelf for you to pick up. At least, that's what I think you were asking?
student: Yes! And like, where um do you pick it up? Like, right here? This desk? 
me: Yes, right here.
student: Oh my god, that is like so awesome! I'm going to go um request like so much right now. Thanks!
--walks away smiling ear to ear--
me: God help us.  

The Lines of Friendship

As a med/peds doctor, my doctor friend treats kids and grown ups. Anyway, she can and has delivered babies, and she tells me it's a pretty great moment. And as long as everything is normal, when the time comes, she could deliver my kids.

But instead of thinking, oh wow, one of my best friends would be there at seemingly the happiest moment of my life, I asked her:

Me: Umm, would you have to look at my hoo?
P: Well, yes. That's where I would have to be if I'm delivering your kids.
Me: Then no, I do not want you delivering my children. We're friends and all, but I'm fine if we never cross that line.
P: Phew, cool.
Me: You can totally be my kids' doctor after they come out though.
P: I better be.

I've been told there's a remarkable lax of privacy when you're having a baby, with doctors, nurses, med students (if you're at a teaching hospital), and invasive family (Seriously, stay out almost mother in-law!*) all entering the room when you are in that state. Maybe at that point you don't care if a friends sees that because she's a medical professional and it's just another day in the office for her. But I for one, still think it's a little icky. And I'm glad that she agrees.

*Oh yes, I *actually* had to have that conversation with the almost mother-in-law. She was in the delivery room for her daughter's first born. Held back a leg and everything. So she assumed the same for the ex and I. I flat out said no (not that it matters anymore, she can invade another girl's private moment now). She was a little hurt, until I explained I don't even want my own mom in there. When I relayed this story back to my mom, her response to I don't want her in there was: "oh thank god! I don't want to be there either!"

Sissy Pants

I was taking the dog for a walk and I'm walking down the driveway to get back in the house. And to my horrors, I see a snake sunning itself in the driveway.

My guess is the thing was 12-15 inches long and probably harmless.

But I still screamed bloody murder, spun on my heals and sprinted up the driveway and entered the house through the front door instead. Poor Bailey didn't know what was going on.

Long Pants

Reason I like fall:
Once it's long pants weather I can stop shaving my legs. Bonus to not having a boyfriend as well.
(though he should still be looking for me)

Picnic with the Pups

We adopted Bailey when she was 3 months old form the spca in Cincinnati. (even though I don't consider her ours anymore, we adopted her together, and that doesn't change. And it's not painful to think of it that way either) There they told us she was a Shepard mix. I understood the Shepard part, but what did they mean by mix? I was told that it meant they knew the mom had some Shepard in her, but that was it.

Side note: what's with designer mutts? Matlipoo (Maltese/poodle), puggle (pug/beagle), goldendoodle (golden retriever/poodle), Schnoodle (Poodle/ Schnauzer)... Fancy name aside, it's still a mix. Though I have to hand it to poodles because no matter what you breed it with you automatically get a fun name. There's just something about the -oodle.

But anyway, I don't know really know what Bailey is. Part Shepard, full spaz. She's a Kentucky tan dog (she used to be an Ohio tan, but I think you can see why I changed that). But other people care seem to care what she is. So when they see her, they start assigning/asking me about breeds. I've been told boxer, Pitt, pointer, beagle, and most recently, ridgeback.

But yesterday I went to a dog thing with my friend and (of course) the dog, and Bailey's doppelganger was there. Only this one was a little fatter. This one was named Molly (which incidentally, was what we almost named Bailey at first), and she looked just like Bailey, same color, head shape, hair length and texture, and build (just fatter). However, Molly, was known to be mostly ridgeback.

So I google searched ridgeback and this is what I get:

Oh holy crap, that's my dog

And then I googled Ridgeback Shepard mix and got this:

Seriously, is that one my dog?

And while I still honestly have no idea what she is, I think those pictures give me a pretty good idea of what one of her parents had in her. To me, she's a sweet, adorable mutt, just my Bailey.

Ok this one actually is my dog. Hi momma, I in your bed!

I guess my dog's part ridgeback. Who knew?

Added 9/8/0/9: ridgebacks are African lion hunting dogs. LION. Whoa. However she does love to chase cats, so this makes sence.

Church

I used the phrase sweating like a whore in church the other day, and my friend asked, Wait, church? Did I miss something? Why where you in a church?

And then she reread the email and figured out it was a phrase, but I started thinking, when was the last time I was in a church?

Uhh....umm, well, I didn't go to my friend's baby's baptism, so not then. I didn't get married so that date's out... It may have been my sister's wedding, which was almost a year ago...

Oh no wait! I went to temple for my friend's conversion to Judaism in November and then to temple with her in the early spring I believe. So there, that's the last time I was in a church.
Hey wait a second! Did my friend think I was calling myself a whore?

What's in a name?

I follow 9 people on twitter. And I have 26 followers. Why some of these people follow me, I have no idea. But whatever, if these people want to read my snark and randomness, fine. But some of my followers are the equivalent of spam tweets. I'll get an email that whendie786 is following me on twitter, and here's a link to their page.

And because I like to know who's keeping tabs on me, I scope them out. But half the time, it's a picture of a whore's ass and the tweet is a link to watch them have s*x at insert-link-here. And if it one of those dirty people, I promptly block them. Because I don't want someone asking me to lick their See you Next Tuesday linked to me in any way.

I know that a lot of people get those kind of followers, but do they get them as often as I do? Or do I just have a porn-ey user name? But my friend just tweeted this: (in refence to dirty tweets) go back to MySpace where they belong. (man, myspace really is pretty trashy)

Self Medication

Today at work I know I was crinkling up my nose a lot because I constantly felt like I was going to sneeze. Which is nothing out of the ordinary, I feel that way a lot at work. Because you never know what kind of place the materials are going to. They even go to people with cats. (btw, why does no one believe that I'm allergic? There is a real reason I don't care for cats. I don't like pets that make my eyes water and I have to take a pill to breathe comfortably around) But today my face (especially the inside of my nose) felt itchy too, which is out out of the ordinary. And my hair felt weird and unruly today too, which is just odd in general. I thought I was just tired, which gave me a reason for the clumsy (because who knocks their head on a book shelf? Me.), but that didn't account for the wayward hair or itchy face.

Then it occurred to me, oh yeah, allergy season is upon us (and Kentucky is a hell hole for allergies). I typically keep a couple different types of OTC medication in my purse just in case. What kind of pharmacist/drug dealer would I be if I didn't? I root around in the darkness of my bag an pull out my little pill pack (It's brightly colored so I can find it faster). And along side my generic pain relievers, there's a generic benadryl and two unbranded white tablets in their blister packs. I knew that the benadryl would exhaust me even further that I already was, so I didn't want to take that. That left the two while pills w/no labeling. I flip them over to see if they have a their name on it, but the only words on the back of the pack were a few mgs of loratadine. Which sounded like allergy medication to me. So I shrugged my shoulders and without another thought popped one of them.

My face did stop itching, the nose crinkling stopped some, and my hair feels somewhat normal, so it worked from that stand point. But now I'm even more tired and I have a slight case of cotton mouth. So I'm pretty sure I took an allergy pill, I just have no idea which one.

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).

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.

Twitter

I linked my twitter feed to my blog, but I'm not sure if I'm going to keep that up. I like having a few separate groups, like high school friends, college friends, girlfriends, ect... (and there is overlapping). So linking my twitter feed (aka, snarky college commentary) to my blog (random thoughts and life doings) seems a bit too close for my liking. And it's a little too: no one cares what I had for lunch sorta deal (I am all about that lunch phrase right now for some reason).

I'm much more of a blog slut then a twitter slut though. My blog, I don't care who reads it (well I do care some, I change some names just in case). And I like getting comments and feedback on it, so I encourage people to read it if they find me entertaining. But twitter, I have my settings so that I actually have to approve you if you want to "follow" me. Because bitchy comments are fine between a few close girlfriends, but not everyone needs to know that the 19 year old next to me wont turn off her phone even though it has been ringing for a thousand minutes and is making me stabby. (however, I am the same user name on twitter that I am on blog spot if you do want to follow me)

And I'm not exactly sure what Twitter is either, but I joined so we can keep in touch with my friend about to go on maternity leave. I wasn't sure if I would use it at first, but I've realized it's quite handy for me. Because there is just too much random to keep in my head.

Thinking

What two things should be grouped together? A panda, a monkey, and a banana.

I was reading my sociology textbook and this was one of the side reads in it. American students grouped the panda and monkey together, while Japanese students grouped the monkey and banana together. The reasoning is the Americans tend to think in categories (ie animals, fruits, plants...), and the Japanese students think in more along relationships amongst things (the monkey eats the banana).
I grouped monkey and banana together. Apparently, I think Asian.
I knew I was Asian somewhere!

Free hug day?

So there's this event on face book: free hugs? Umm, what? Apparently, there's a whole day devoted to this? And there's rsvp-ing? But it's hosted by me? What? I am so confused. And there are links to buy paraphernalia for this? Seriously, what? Because having "free hugs" scrawled across my chest wouldn't bring out the creepies at all. Riiight.

Also? If you start charging for hugs, then that kind of makes you a prostitute. And that's whorey. But you don't want to give them away for free, because then you'll just hug anyone, and that's whorey too. So which is it? Charge for a hug like a prostitute, or give them away for free like a whore? You just can't win! And I admit I'm a bit lonely, but I'm not about to solicit physical contact through a social networking site. Because fail.

I vote, we all keep our hands to ourselves. (Unless you actually know/like the person, free hugging is ok.)

Bad Movies

I recently discovered redbox which is pretty cool. They only carry new releases, but that's pretty much what I want to see anyway. So if I want to see a something more then a year old, or I'm in an art house mood (every 5 months maybe?) or want to watch all 4 Harry Potter films before going to see the 5th one (and that was an afternoon well spent I might add,) I'll dig up my blockbuster card. Redbox is only $1 per movie, you can reserve online (which I hope you figured out on your own since I posted a link) and it's in walking distance for me (an anti-suburban sprawl unless it's convenient for me blog coming soon!)

Well, I had nothing to do the other night, so I walked (the less the half mile distance) over there and picked up something for myself and something I thought my parents would like. Thank GOD each movie is only $1, because what I rented were bad movies:

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. **spoiler** Aliens. Seriously. Wtf? And that's all I could say for 20 minutes until I watched the 2nd movie I picked out. Which was: The Prince and Me 3, Royal Honeymoon. And that one I watched 80% on fast forward so it would finish faster. But according to IMDB, there's going to be a Prince and Me 4. Lesson not learned, yes, I will probably watch it.
Shut up.

Poking Myself in the Eye

Guys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses. Sh*t, does that mean I have to start wearing my contacts again?

I have crappy vision, crappy enough that I must wear some sort of corrective lens to function in everyday life. I once lost both my contacts at work and I had to get boyfriend to drive me home since I seriously couldn't see 12" in front of me (we were working together that night, fortuitous timing). Lesson learned, there is now a spare pair of glasses in my car for instances like that.

And becasue I have gotten lazy the past few years, I pretty much wear my contacts only when I'm (a) interviewing for jobs, (b) going out for a night on the town or (c) running. And none of these things are happening at the moment. Mornings before work I'm not coherent enough to know my name, so the business with the contacts is a fail plan. Plus those suckers start to burn and/or itch like hell after a while. So I wear my glasses all the time now. And I have really cute frames too; black plastic frames w/zebra print arms. Squee! Though I will totally admit I was going for the naughty librarian look when I picked them out. Maybe cute isn't the correct term... But if that old adage is true, does that mean I have to start poking myself in the eye again to get a new boyfriend? Boo.

Sneeky Starbucks

Starbucks makes me use their lingo.

I refuse to order my stuff, tall, venti, grande. Because it annoys me. If I'm going to pay $4 for a cup of fancy coffee, I am going to order it how I damn well want it. Well, they have this fantastic seasonal latte; the pumpkin spice. It's all sorts of deliciousness, and I treat myself to one at some point during the fall. Well, I had a super craving for it, and the Starbucks kiosk was 20' across from me. And I was shopping, I needed sustenance in the form of foamy caffeinated seasonal goodness. So I ordered a small pumpkin spice latte. And the cashier guy asked "now, do you want the small or the tall? Because this is the small" and holds up this 6 oz joke of a coffee cup. And my hand flies to my chest and I gasp "oh no! That's terribly small!" So I begrudgingly ordered the my pumpkin spice tall.

Fine Starbucks, you win, I will use your fancy size language. But I still won't be ordering anything skinny, no foam, half calf, or other bull sh*t. So there.

Girlish Figure

One day, a coworker or acquaintance of some sort asked me how I stayed so "impossibly skinny" when I ate the way I do. (I was probably eating something horribly fattening and enjoying it). And I looked at them and said, "easy, I'm just going to throw it up later."

They got all wide eyes and started backing away.

Note to self: bulimia jokes are not funny yet.

Giggle fit

Due to my facebook stalking, I have come to the follow conclusion: There's just something ridiculously funny about college kids on Big Wheels. Racing down a steep hill. And having the pictures to prove it.

Where does one even get a Big Wheel nowadays? Or one of these! Because I so want of these right now. Or, find me a sit-and-spin. Those things are super fun!