Hide and Seek

When I was younger I used to think I was AWESOME at Hide and Seek. I used to play it at my grandmother's all the time.

Recently I was discussing my award winning H & S skills with my mom when suddenly I realized something. I used to stay hidden for sometimes close to a half hour....under a desk....without the chair scooted in. Sometimes I'D have to go FIND my grandmother. When I did she always looked rested...had her nails done. She totally wasn't even TRYING to find me. What a B.

Now for those of you thinking "oh how sad, I love my grandmother". Don't.

She once gave me a bag of oranges for my Christmas present. Oh sorry, she MAILED me a bag of oranges.

No wonder I have an aversion to Citrus.

The Bathroom

I'm never quite sure how to respond when I go to the bathroom and hear someone in the stall next to me farting it up. Like clearly they're having an issue. Then when they come out and we end up next to each other washing our hands and I find out who the culprit is my first instinct is to say "umm, are you ok? That sounded like something right out of the zoo?".

Instead I just avert my eyes and forever look at them as the pooper pounder.

I'm Still a Fugly Girl at Heart

Today when I got back from lunch one of the male models was outside and he asked me if I could let him in to the studio since our security guard was at lunch. I just smiled and nodded. He was so pretty. I was wishing I wasn't holding a too full target bag and my giant Sonic tea. I wanted to look graceful and chic. Instead I looked like a bag lady who has difficulty walking in heels.

I let him in and said "thank you". What?!? Why the F did I thank HIM? What was I thanking him for? Thank you for allowing me to let you in the door? Thank you for making me feel like the 9 year old girl with such big gaps in my teeth I could transform myself into the human water fountain?

Fail.

My Love Affair With Cupcakes

On Valentines Day in college one year the cafeteria made cupcakes and gave them out for free. I was in class when I found this out, but upon hearing this news I practically broke out in a dead run straight for them. I got downstairs and was relieved there were some left, I grabbed my cupcake. I was so excited. Free cupcake - my day is MADE.

I headed back upstairs to class, I was intently staring at my cupcake, careful not to drop it.  Then it happened.  I fell straight down the stairs, ate shit so hard I wasn't sure I still had teeth, but all I could think about was my cupcake. There it was. Smashed on the landing. But I didn't have time to mourn my loss. I heard people coming. 

On our way out from class we took the stairs, after a flight I saw it. The fallen soldier. A girl says "omg, who the hell smashed their cupcake?!?", "oh wow, I have no idea".

I silently shed a tear. I think it was chocolate.....

Why I Can Never Go to the Bathroom in Borders Again...

The last time I visited my sister I wanted to stop at Borders on the way to the airport to pick up a few books. While there I had to go to the bathroom. As soon as I walked into the bathroom I heard two voices coming from the handicap stall, one of which sounded like a mans. So I turned around, opened the door and checked, yep "women's". Hmm...ok, just get in and get out....

As I'm in the stall I can hear them arguing, clearly something's wrong. Shit. I'm starting to sweat. I can feel the heart palpitations starting. As soon as I'm done I know I need to flee, but my need for sanitation stops me at the sink. That's when I hear it "ma'am, can you help us?". I freeze. Oh God, what should I do. Should I run? Should I say no? No, Jesus wouldn't like that. Even though I'm on the verge of a full on panic attack I respond, "s-su-sure". As I approach the handicap stall I feel similar to Mel Gibson in Braveheart. I'm also wishing I'd gotten a presciption for Xanax filled.

I enter the stall.....There is an obese woman on the toliet with no legs........I desperately wish I'd worn more deodorant. The man asks me "if I lift her, can you raise her pants?" I just stare with a glazed over look in my eyes. I'm numb. I have no feeling in my hands. I think I might be having a stroke. *Focus* She starts yelling at him "do NOT flush the toliet". Oh God. I walk over. He lifts her....There it is, Mount Poop-ola, I nearly pass out. Frantically I try and raise her pants, I can't get them. Oh God. I can't get a good angle. She's yelling, he's yelling, I'm now having a full on panic attack. My hands, why can't I feel my F-ing hands? In a last ditch effort right before she lands back on the toliet I manage to get her pants up.....

The man looks at me, "they're crooked"

*You have got to fucking kidding me*

How to Tell if You're Tired

You can tell you're tired when you're so rushed in the morning to get ready you put on Christmas underwear (mind you it's March).

You can tell you're exhausted when you don't realize you're wearing the Christmas underwear until you've been at work for appx 8 hours and been to the bathroom multiple times.

Awesome.

Dear Gum, I love you and I miss you.

It's been 2 weeks since my last piece of gum. I gave up gum for lent. I understand to many people this seems like no big deal. Let me explain.

My love of gum began long ago. I've been a devoted gum chewer for 15+years.  However, when I began working in the "real world" my gum intake grew and grew. I could chew 3 packs a day, easy. I would put a piece in and chew for 30 seconds, take it out, put in another one......

I was a chain-gummer.

So here I am, 14 days in....I must say it's going better than I thought. Granted I caught myself staring at a girl who was chewing gum, longing for a piece and I can't stand too long at the checkout at the grocery store for fear I'll rip open a pack and start chewing. But I no longer have intense jaw soreness or gas that could kill an infant.

Baby steps...

Bring on the M & M's

So as part of our new insurance for the upcoming year we have to get our waist measured (have to make sure we fall under a certain number). Upon hearing this news I immediately started forming my upcoming exercise regime until my "weigh in" day. I told someone I "wanted to come in first". Their response "it's not a competition".

I don't understand? The results aren't listed a la a the 5th grade basketball tryouts with a sheet listing "who made the team"? There's no sheet similar to the one showing who got the lead in the school play?

Nope. Nothing. Results are confidential.

I was told I get "personal satisfaction" if I'm below the number.......ick....I'd much prefer a balloon

to all you heterosexual men out there

if you're looking to get laid don't go to a restaurant just the two of you and sit at a table with a flower on it. 

Also to the man I saw last night that looked like Bon Jovi, that look ONLY works for Bon Jovi. Button up your shirt.