First please allow me to apologize for any shitty or completely random yet hilarious spelling errors and lack of grammar, I am doing this from my cell phone and it has a tendency to do the whole predictive text and auto-correct randomly. Also the letter n may appear randomly, that is because I have terribly fat fingers and the “n” key is too close to the space bar.
I know I haven’t been posting to much, as of late or ever really but I do intend to change that. Life is just kind of boring, I don’t have the internet at the moment and well I suck. I have been writing just not here or on the internet anywhere, I went old school with pen and paper due to the lack of internet in my house.
Today however; something stupid has happened. By stupid I mean ridiculous. For the last 3 days I have walked away with a sore foot. I figured it had something to do with a sock or amped up cardio and it would go away, eventually. I was wrong. So very wrong.
Today at work I walked across the floor, I got an intense pain in my foot so I go back to my desk, remove my boot adjust my sock put my boot back on and feel something funny. Take my boot off again stick my hand in my boot, feel something like a wire. Try to figure out who the hell puts wires in the insole of a work boot only to come to the conclusion that the answer is nobody.
I start pulling at the wire – because what else would you do? After about 5 mins the wire comes out of my boot and falls into my hand, I pull my hand out of my boot only to find its not really a wire at all but a nail. A tiny finishing nail decided to make my boots insole its home and for the past three days has been joyously humping the ball of my foot, slowly rubbing the absolute shit out of my foot. Why I didn’t check my boot sooner I will never know.
Last night was an unfortunate night in my house all around.
First I will tell you the rousing story of me losing to a vacuum cleaner. I was cleaning my room up and was vacuuming around the edges of the room with just the hose so I could get my dogs little bits of kibble. I dropped the vacuum on the floor so I could pick up some clothes and I heard this sound like something was stuck in the end, I turn around thinking perhaps my dog was getting sucked into the vacuum (it could happen, she is tiny). It wasn’t my dog, it was a sock. No big deal right? Yeah that is what I thought too, until I picked up the hose to remove the sock from the end and the sock went up the hose.
This would not be a huge deal if I had a standard run of the mill vacuum cleaner that you would buy from places like Wal-Mart, but it’s not. It is a central vac, you know the kind that has a big canister in one part of the house and has the pipes running through the walls? I THINK the sock just went all the way through, at least I hope it did because I rent this house, I do not want to have to call the landlord and be like “um you know your vacuum cleaner? Yeah I broke it. Well I didn’t really break it buuuuuuuuuuut there is a sock stuck in the wall somewhere.” That would just be embarrassing. I also just want my sock back – it was one I use to work out in.. its important to me.
I am in no way a crafter, I love crafts, I love doing them but every time I finish something it looks more and more like a 5-year-old did the work and not an almost 30-year-old. However; I am currently in the process of making Christmas Presents for my mom and my gramma. My niece and I started this project in mid October so that we could have them done by Christmas, everything is right on schedule. I do not have pictures of the things because we do not want anyone seeing them and spilling the beans before Christmas, once they are with their new owners I will take pictures.
In the midst of my crafting I decided a great idea would be to get my glue gun out and glue things on to these decorations so that it wasn’t just paint, paint and more paint. This is a good idea if you are not clumsy, ridiculously accident prone, or just an unfortunate mess. I am all of these things and more. So you can imagine what may have happened. Last night while putting the final touches on one of the crafts I dropped a little fuzzy pom-pom that had HOT glue on it, not thinking I scooped it up off the kitchen table (that looks more like a kindergarten class had its way with it at the moment) with my index finger and thumb, that’s when it hit me, the hot searing pain of a fuzzy pom-pom adhering itself to my finger.
Yes you read that right I hot glued a piece of my craft to my index finger. I didn’t swear or yell though, I sat looking at it in disbelief all the while not computing that the hot glue was really burning my finger. I did finally realize what I was doing, and unstuck the item from my finger – today though I have a blister, which serves as a constant reminder that I should never be allowed to use anything that could cause bodily harm.
And that is why I am lacking in the blogging department. That’s my story and I am sticking to it anyways.
Nothing too serious but I am going to look at changing the layout of my blog and shit. Make if more fanciful, and organized because at this moment in time if I can make one thing organized it would be a fricken miracle. I am serious, you want to see the most unorganized person in the world, you should see if you can find me because I am so unorganized that organized chaos no longer applies.
While these changes are happening (my creative filter is slightly broken at the moment) , I figured I would entertain you with a little bit of crap that has happened to me.
I did manage to get up, gather all my lunch and everything and hobbled to my truck. My damn knee is still sore from the fall. It was unpleasant.
The weekend – was incredibly uneventful (thank god!)
I was woke up at 5:30, and not by my dog, or my niece. No instead it was this weird sharp pain (kind of like a Charlie horse) in my shoulder/upper back/neck region. I somehow managed to pull/kink a muscle or muscles in my sleep. Now I am not a crazy roll around the bed and tie myself in knots kind of sleeper, once I am asleep I stay pretty much in the same spot the entire night, so I am completely at a loss for how this happened, but I am hoping it was something cool, like an alien tried to abduct me and I fought back and won or something like that.
The aftermath of said injury is way less cool than my imaginary fight with goblins, or aliens or anything though. I am unable lift my arm high enough to scratch my head. It really sucks.
I woke up this morning to a very wet and gross day. I decided that I wouldn’t let it get me down in anyway, things in my world have been pretty awesome lately. I dressed for the weather, I work inside, so it wont be that horrible. Boy was I wrong. I forgot I go outside about 5 times a day to go to the bathroom. I should explain that a bit, I work in a metal shop. There is a bathroom not even 20 feet from my office but I refuse to use it – Have you EVER been in a shop bathroom? The shop is fairly male dominant, and face it guys are gross. So rather than use said bathroom I go to the “clean room.” Sounds fancy right? Not so much, it is a place that is fairly dust free due to the processes that are being done on the metal. This is also where there are 2 bathrooms for women – bathrooms which are not gross, and do not have drawing of naked women on the toilet paper dispenser. BUT to get there I either have to walk through the shop (more time on my bathroom travel), or go outside and walk to the other building. No big deal, and it gets me out of my office for a couple minutes.
This walk is normally welcome and NOT a huge deal but today, it is a huge deal why? Because it is raining, and I have to go through 3 different doors to get there, neither of which are sealed properly so water runs into them and sits there waiting for an unsuspecting person to open it and then… BAM. In. Your. Face. You get hit in the face with the coldest water ever. I am usually the first person who gets the face full of water so today – being the smart cookie I am, I put my
bunny hug hoodie on, pull the hood up and make my way to the door. First door, I use my toe push the door open and stand aside while the wall of water comes crashing down. Second door, same thing and I figure I am victorious, I start doing my victory dance and open the third door, being less careful and guess what? Yeah I got a shower, a nice cold fresh rain shower – well my arm did. My victory dance ends abruptly, and I walk to the bathroom cursing myself silently, do my business and then begin the trek back to my office. I let my guard down, completely. I open the door and start walking out and I got a full on shower. I am soaked, I feel like a cat that has just been left out in the rain. I let loose with words I am sure made the trucker who was loading his truck across the street blush.
I am sure the hole event was kind of funny if you were watching it, the look on my face was much like that of the cat above. My clothes are still soaked and I am still trying to work up enough courage to go face the door again so I can get more water to drink. I think for now I will just go thirsty.
I remember being a kid/teenager and writing all over myself – random words, drawings you name it I would put it on my body. I would also get the disapproving sigh from my mother when she would see my latest works of art and she would inevitably say “what on earth were you thinking?” Truth is 95% of the time I wasn’t thinking, I was a kid, and it sounded like it was a good idea at the time.
I am now 28, I have a good job – one in which I do deal with the public sometimes, and I have tattoos, 7 of them to be exact. All of which have a meaning, I also have piercings, 6 of them, my ears are stretched and I tend to not leave my hair one color for very long. None of these things has ever held me back in life. I am a respectable, responsible (most of the time) adult, who is hopelessly addicted to the words douche, fuck, and twat, and I have made the conscious decision that rather than pay thousands of dollars for art that can be stolen I will put it on my body, that way the person who steals it has to take me with them, and I guarantee you that they would return me in less than an hour.
At 20 I had decided I wanted a lotus on my lower back, I had an appointment made and the money saved and everything and 2 days before the appointment the artist called and cancelled because her husband had a heart attack and she would not be able to do the tattoo, but I could reschedule at a later date. I never did reschedule as I took it as a sign from above that it wasn’t meant to be and thank god I didn’t because I would now be the owner of a tacky tramp stamp, and not only that but it would have been done on a whim and without much investigation, or learning on my part. See I believe there is a power out there that stopped me. Read the rest of this entry
I am sick, and by sick I mean half dead. OK so maybe not BUT I sure feel like I could just fall over and die. Last week my supervisor type person was walking around the shop kind of sick, he assured me that it was just allergies but I was skeptical. He was stuffed up and coughing – OK so I could have almost believed it was allergies until he came forward and told me that he was cold, and achy and then I looked at him and said “you, stay out of this office until you are better, I do not want to get sick.” Of course he laughed at me, through the week I just kind of stayed away and hoped I did not get sick. Well Friday night roles around and I am out before 9:30pm, which is unheard of for me. Saturday I woke up, felt a little gross but nothing to major – a bit of a head ache and stuffy nose but that’s not abnormal for this time of year. And then Sunday, I woke up and I had a wicked cold, and by wicked I mean this thing could be the cousin to the plague, I am sure death is sitting outside my window waiting for me to just roll over and stop kicking.
My lungs are all congested, my sinus’ are so backed up that nothing is moving – seriously how much snot can one person make? I have spent almost 40 dollars on cough medicine, pills that help me breath but don`t make me drowsy, syrups that warms and makes me sleepy for night, camphor oil for my chest so I can breath, all of it mucous relief. So now I not only smell like a rank old lady but I also sound like a little old lady that has smoked for about half her life and could quite possibly have slept out in a soggy went box over night.
Put this nasty cold on top of incredibly sore shoulders, and migraine after migraine which I think is because of my sinus’ being backed up, and because mother nature is a menopausal bitch that cannot make up her mind if the weather should be cold or hot. I have not been in to the gym in over a week. So today, I decided I was going to make an appointment to get a massage. I have had several massages in the past – all of which have been quite enjoyable, so I make an appointment at a place that has come with high recommendations from a few people.
I get to my appointment, fill out the necessary paperwork and meet with Mark – my massage therapist. I am a little nervous as I have never had a male massage therapist but soon am comfortable and things get going. Let me tell you, this massage is NOTHING like I have ever had before. This guy is pushing, and pulling and moving limbs and it hurts. Not a lot but on a pain scale of 1 – 10, 1 being no pain, 10 being OMG STOP TOUCHING ME!!! I am sitting between a 5 and 7 and then… he has me lay on my back, raise my arm over my head and he proceeds to work my pectoral something or other muscle… and holy shit, I almost went through the damn roof, apparently this muscle was really really angry and really really tight. This continued for a full hour people – 60 friggen minutes of pure torture, by the end I was glad that it was over. Mark left the room and I got dressed, and while I was getting dressed I noticed something, my arms moved, freely no pain when I went to do my bra up, no pain when I put my shirt on, no pain when I rotated my shoulder, NO PAIN.
It has been 2.5 hours since my massage ended and by this time I am usually going, for fuck sake, I need to go back already because I am in pain!!! I am still pain free, my arms are still moving, are the places that were worked a little sore? Yes they are. Will I go back? Yes, yes I will, I am a bit of a masochist, but this was quite possibly the BEST massage I have had in my entire life.
Its true, this week has been a nightmare when it comes to blueberry anything. Don’t get me wrong I love blueberries – well fresh blueberries, I also love blueberry yogurt. Not just any blueberry yogurt but blueberry Greek yogurt (if you have never had it you should).
As a general rule blueberries are kind, innocent little round berries of goodness. This week however; they have hijacked me. By hijacked I mean gotten in my mouth and been horribly wrong. The first incident was while eating blueberry yogurt. Picture it, me sitting at my desk eating on my break reading a website slowly devouring my yogurt one spoonful at a time savoring every single bit and then BAM… there is a horrible horrible taste. So do I stop eating? Of course not – it must just be the one spoonful right? God no, 5 spoonfuls later and they still taste the same, I stop look at the yogurt (because obviously there is something that is going to look wrong with my yogurt.) Looking proves nothing so I eat more, and then it dawns on me. The horrible taste is dish soap. That is right my container had remnants of dish soap that I didn’t rinse off after washing the container in the morning. However; I continued to eat this horrible tasting food. Why did I keep eating it? Because I was hungry, and because I cannot waste good food. Now stop judging you know you have done something like this before. Moral of this story: green Apple Polmolive dish soap does not taste like green apples and certainly does not go with blueberry yogurt.
The second incident happened today, I was eating these perfectly ripe blueberries same desk only at lunch. I pop one in my mouth and blam the little buggar totally tried to ruin my day, as I chomp down on it I get this horrible moldy taste in my mouth – it looked fine I swear! The stupid blueberry was rotting on the inside on the outside it was a normal innocent blueberry. Of course I had to swallow because there was no where to spit the thing out and well face it once I had bit into it most of the nasty had been swallowed.
The cucumbers, I swear the cucumber was poisonous but to be honest I don’t really know what poison tastes like but I assume it would be like what that cucumber tasted like it was horrible…lol it was fresh out of my moms garden. and I did the thing where you cut the tip off and rub it around the end to make it foam and then you can eat it with out it being bitter… yeah that didn’t work lol and that totally sounded dirtier than it did in my head.
This was my week in food, it was not a good week and I swear the food was out to get me.