Yesterday I completely blew my lab partner's mind. Not because of my metal prowess (or lack there of, I messed up the same test tube twice in 2 minutes) or razor sharp wit. Nope, none of that phased him.
But we were talking during lab and he asked how old I was. Since I wasn't in the mood to play the guess-how-old-I-am-game, I just told him: 27.
And that completely blew his mind. Seriously, he repeated "27!" in disbelief about a 1008 times.
I eventually asked him, "you ok? Did I just rock your world over there?"
"Yeah, kinda"
And then the next hour of lab was "what's it like to be 27?" question hour. I told him I was supposed to be a grown up but I had no intention of doing so any time soon. And obviously I was old enough to buy beer (not that I buy beer that often, but I also play "I order you pay" a lot). And no, I wouldn't. And I know that officially puts me in the uncool zone, but what the hell do I care? I'm old.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Sick boys
Seriously, I hate sick boys. This seems to be a common complaint between women. As much as we love (in my case, loved) our SO's, they all seem to turn into the biggest baby when sick. Cause you know, "when a man gets sick, the world stops" (Celia Rivenbark quote). Because no one else in the entire history of the world, has ever felt as sick as this pwoor wittle guy.
But do they ever take anything for it? Nope. Cause no one else has ever felt this bad, so clearly there is absolutely nothing strong enough for this sort of agony. They just whimper and sniffle and drive you nuts until you shove a pill down their throat, and while they chase bats in their dreams, you shove things up their nose as payback and because they can't breath from it anyway. (Lori Notaro reference). And yes, I'm sure you feel yucky honey, but take something and cork it (or I'll make you. Either way, you are taking a pill).
My first boyfriend in college admitted that when he was sick, he turned into the biggest baby and wanted to be taken care of. First, I snorted. And then second, said something along the lines of "don't come crying to me. I'll hand you a pill and tell you to stuff it." And a few months later when he did get a cold and subsequently tried to whine to me about it, I shot him a look and handed him some dayqil. And then told him to stuff it. Hey, I did warn him.
Now, I'm not a completely heartless, I did attempt to take care of my ex when he caught my nasty cold. (Hey you know what probably didn't help matters? Hanging out with all your smoker friends with wet hair in December. Just saying.) The same cold that knocked me out for a month. You know, the one I worked 60 hours on, apartment hunted, moved, and Christmas shopped with. But since it was my cold, and I loved him, I let him have the good pills right away instead of trying to pawn off the worthless NyQuil. Though when he finished the entire box in 2 days (he didn't exactly heed the "do not take more than 6 does in 24 hours" warning) and tossed the empty box in the trash, I made sure he had his id, handed him his wallet and keys and told him: no pussy footing around, you buy the real name brand behind the counter stuff. Don't even come home if you buy the generic.
A few months later when I moved out and cleaned the medicine cabinet out, I took every single pill box and bottle we owned with me. (hell, I bought most of it anwyay) I even the bullsh*t NyQuil.
But do they ever take anything for it? Nope. Cause no one else has ever felt this bad, so clearly there is absolutely nothing strong enough for this sort of agony. They just whimper and sniffle and drive you nuts until you shove a pill down their throat, and while they chase bats in their dreams, you shove things up their nose as payback and because they can't breath from it anyway. (Lori Notaro reference). And yes, I'm sure you feel yucky honey, but take something and cork it (or I'll make you. Either way, you are taking a pill).
My first boyfriend in college admitted that when he was sick, he turned into the biggest baby and wanted to be taken care of. First, I snorted. And then second, said something along the lines of "don't come crying to me. I'll hand you a pill and tell you to stuff it." And a few months later when he did get a cold and subsequently tried to whine to me about it, I shot him a look and handed him some dayqil. And then told him to stuff it. Hey, I did warn him.
Now, I'm not a completely heartless, I did attempt to take care of my ex when he caught my nasty cold. (Hey you know what probably didn't help matters? Hanging out with all your smoker friends with wet hair in December. Just saying.) The same cold that knocked me out for a month. You know, the one I worked 60 hours on, apartment hunted, moved, and Christmas shopped with. But since it was my cold, and I loved him, I let him have the good pills right away instead of trying to pawn off the worthless NyQuil. Though when he finished the entire box in 2 days (he didn't exactly heed the "do not take more than 6 does in 24 hours" warning) and tossed the empty box in the trash, I made sure he had his id, handed him his wallet and keys and told him: no pussy footing around, you buy the real name brand behind the counter stuff. Don't even come home if you buy the generic.
A few months later when I moved out and cleaned the medicine cabinet out, I took every single pill box and bottle we owned with me. (hell, I bought most of it anwyay) I even the bullsh*t NyQuil.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Signs
So default crush and I flaked on each other. Like that's not a sign. He fell asleep after working out. I had a headache and didn't want to put on real pants. Looks like we're destined to be friends with sexual tension. This bodes well.
At least things only got complicated in my head and someone else can pounce me conflict free.
But I'm a little irked at myself for even pretending something could happen with default. I know the patterns of the friendship, and I know things won't happen with him.
Guess this shows how strong the lure a crush can be. But it also makes me feel like I'm still a 15 year old girl, desperate for someone to like her back.
At least things only got complicated in my head and someone else can pounce me conflict free.
But I'm a little irked at myself for even pretending something could happen with default. I know the patterns of the friendship, and I know things won't happen with him.
Guess this shows how strong the lure a crush can be. But it also makes me feel like I'm still a 15 year old girl, desperate for someone to like her back.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Temptation
Do not lead me to temptation, I know the way myself. Or something like that. (yep, pretty sure I butchered some bible verse on that one)
So, I was thinking of starting the f*ck buddies thing up again. And by thinking, I mean totally going to. I was going to play last night, but had to bail because my homework took precedence. Boo, I was really looking forward to it. There's always the option of rescheduling though. My sensible side said: this may not be the best idea I've ever had, but it's by far not the worst. And the more indulgent side said: we all have needs, so why the hell not?
So I was looking forward to that, and wouldn't you know, default crush pops back in. Of course, just when I'm thinking, meh, get over it, and no biggie, he texts me. And I am weak because we make plans to hang out. Now I'm wondering if he wants to make out with me. We'll see if we even meet up number one. And then figure it out. The somewhat grown-up side wants to say: leave it alone, but the other part, the whinier and considerably much more vocal side, is saying, But. I. Wanna.
Um, this could get messy. Of course, I made my own rules, so I can just as easily break them. And there's the fact that I'm indulging my own imagination and making a mountain out of a mole hill. Default crush is my hang up, I'm not his. And f*ck buddy is something I want to keep in my back pocket too, just in case. We'll see how this goes.
Either way, I still have to shave my legs again.
So, I was thinking of starting the f*ck buddies thing up again. And by thinking, I mean totally going to. I was going to play last night, but had to bail because my homework took precedence. Boo, I was really looking forward to it. There's always the option of rescheduling though. My sensible side said: this may not be the best idea I've ever had, but it's by far not the worst. And the more indulgent side said: we all have needs, so why the hell not?
So I was looking forward to that, and wouldn't you know, default crush pops back in. Of course, just when I'm thinking, meh, get over it, and no biggie, he texts me. And I am weak because we make plans to hang out. Now I'm wondering if he wants to make out with me. We'll see if we even meet up number one. And then figure it out. The somewhat grown-up side wants to say: leave it alone, but the other part, the whinier and considerably much more vocal side, is saying, But. I. Wanna.
Um, this could get messy. Of course, I made my own rules, so I can just as easily break them. And there's the fact that I'm indulging my own imagination and making a mountain out of a mole hill. Default crush is my hang up, I'm not his. And f*ck buddy is something I want to keep in my back pocket too, just in case. We'll see how this goes.
Either way, I still have to shave my legs again.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Lather, Rinse, Repeat.
- Dog kills stuff toy.
- Dog eats carnage of fluff.
- Fluff works it's way through her system and must comes out one end.
- Fluff causes business to stick to dog's business end.
- Dog freaks out, starts crying and momma is forced to assist.
- Dog immediately fine when business is removed, prances away. Learns nothing at all.
- Dog kills stuffed toy...
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Help
Some of you might know this, and others may be surprised. But I've been in counseling/short term therapy a few times.
Before anyone says/thinks "you could have talked to me," or "I would have helped if I had known," or "it couldn't have been that bad," STOP. Because that's not true. You honestly can't predict how your own grief will affect you, you can't know how you would react to another person's. Yes I had support all those times. Really good support at that. And it helped a little. But it wasn't enough.
Before anyone says/thinks "you could have talked to me," or "I would have helped if I had known," or "it couldn't have been that bad," STOP. Because that's not true. You honestly can't predict how your own grief will affect you, you can't know how you would react to another person's. Yes I had support all those times. Really good support at that. And it helped a little. But it wasn't enough.
But this is not going to be a tell-all confessional. I'm not telling you when, for how long, how many times, and what for (but yes, one was for the broken engagement). That's something I'm keeping in it's protective bubble. And I'm hardly the poster child for metal health as a self proclaimed spaz/crazy girl. It's just the god's honest truth. I needed help. I recognized that I did. And while this may sound counter intuitive to some, I felt stronger in getting it. For admitting I couldn't do "this" on my own. So I got help. And I'm better for it.
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