I Am My Biggest Fan. And Sometimes It Hurts.

If you know me...you know that I'm a pretty huge fan of...me.

I was just in the bathroom at work. And due to my over-the-top vanity...I ended up jamming my finger and getting my pants wet right at that curious um-did-she-just-pee-her-pants spot.

I have been working out a fair bit, lately. So...while I was in the bathroom I looked in the mirror to fix my hair a bit and I ended up catching a glance of some new definition in my bicep. Naturally, I roll my sleeves up and begin to flex...while adoring myself in the mirror.

About 30 seconds in, my little self admiration session was abruptly drawn to a close. The handle on the door turned...someone was walking in!!! I had a mere millisecond to bring my arms down to a normal height, unroll my sleeves, and begin to wash my hands...before the woman rounding the corner of the door saw me being a complete narcissistic whore.

I dove for the sink...and as I dove my flip flops began to fight with one another. To avoid tripping and smashing my face on the faux marble counter top...resulting in the loss of my two front teeth...all because of my obsessive love affair with myself...I extended my left arm to catch myself.

Unfortunately, all my fingers weren't in agreement at the time and I ended up jamming my index finger. Then my body slammed against the counter...which had a puddle of water right at the lip of the sink left from the slovenly women that share the restroom on my floor,  which is how my jeans got wet in the afore mentioned "curious" spot.

(Speaking of the slovenly women...now this is material enough for a whole separate post...but seriously ladies...if you sprinkle when you tinkle be a sweety and wipe the damn seaty.)

Then, so flustered from the whole ordeal, I pumped some soap into my hand and grabbed a paper towel (no water involved) and left the bathroom...leaving a slimy liquid soap residue on the door handle.

I'm pretty sure I resembled this lady (tell 'em Lahg Mahg sent cha).

I probably would have been better off if I had just been caught flexing.

That Finger Was Meant For You, Buddy!

I think that there should be a flashing light....or a smoke machine....or a big neon blinking arrow that is activated when you honk your horn. Something, anything that would allow other drivers to determine where a honk originated.

I'm sick of being second in line at a stop light/intersection...the light changes and the car in front of me doesn't slam on the gas like we are in the Daytona 500, or the car in front of me isn't far enough into the intersection for making a left hand turn, or the car in front of me isn't turning right on red (despite the No Turn On Red sign)...and the car behind me starts to honk so feverishly its as if their gargantuan SUV has Tourettes. And now I'm stuck between these two road ragers. Inevitably the driver in front of me looks in the rear view mirror, locks eyes with me, and with a swift upper cut in the air...delivers me the extended middle finger. I look in my rear view mirror to see that driver avoiding eye contact and staring out the window...all innocent like.

Asshole. If you have the balls to honk your horn in disapproval of someone following the traffic laws...then your balls better be big enough to own up to your honk!

I'm sensitive. I get so hurt when I receive "the finger", unwarranted.

Tears of Joy

Sometimes, I wonder if I REALLY like anything. That sounds weird, I know. But I don't jump up and down, I don't cry, I don't scream, I don't faint, I don't even pee a little when I am really excited about something. Sucks.

(Day After Stupids)

I was just watching a dvr-ed episode of Ellen. She flew 3 college kids from New Zealand to her show. She surprised them by having them actually ON the show. They came out on stage, one of the girls started crying when she saw Ellen.

I was happy for her and SO jealous. I'm glad she got to meet Ellen. If there's one person I'd like to meet (besides Khloe Kardashian) its Ellen...but I just don't think I could summon up the water works to show how much I like her.

I covet that display of emotion. I remember, when I was 13, watching footage of a Michael Jackson concert in Japan. The fans were trampling each other and in hysterics - crying, screaming, fainting.

Ever since that day...I've wanted to be a young Asian girl.

Baby's First Holiday

Secede - a hard word to sound out and spell

You know how Hawaii hates the USA? Well if you don't know, now you do.

Racial tension is O.O.C between native Hawaiians and non-natives (especially whites). They have a special word for white folk there, haole (pronounced "howl-ee"), and it doesn't have a loving connotation. There's talk of seceding from the union "Last star on, First star off." Military folk beaten close to death. Campers killed. Vacationers preyed upon. Blah blah blah.

I'm not hating on Hawaii...just stating the facts.

So, I was thinking today...oh man I just realized...this is the Day After Stupids.

Anyway, I was thinking if all of Hawaii's hateful feelings towards the USA is due largely in part to the fact that every single radio contest, television contest, reality voting show (Dancing With the Stars, American Idol)...makes it a point to say "Open only to legal residents of the contiguous United States."

Hawaii never gets to play in any reindeer games. I'd be a bit salty too.

Alaska doesn't get to play either, but I think they are too cold to care.

Acne

I have to ask, was anyone else under the impression that you were only supposed to have acne from the time you hit puberty till the time you went to college. That's what I thought, anyway. 

Why, at 28, do I still have breakouts? Seriously, enough is enough.

So, I just called Proactive to cancel my subscription because I've decided that I'm done with acne. Mind over matter. (I'll let you know how it works and if acne is done with me.) 

The customer service gal asked me why I was canceling my subscription. 

Me: Because I'm using a different face care system now. 

Sheena: Which one?

Me: Meaningful Beauty

Sheena: That's not going to cure your acne.

Me: I don't have acne.

Sheena: (Sarcastic Laughter) Ok, good luck with that.

This left me with a couple questions: Can she see me? Why did she take it so personally? Is she the creator of Proactive? Is she Guthy Renker? Who the hell is Guthy Renker? Why is she such a bitch? What is Sheena TheFriendlyProactiveCustomerServiceAgent's email address? I want to send her a picture of my face.

Piss off, Sheena. Piss off, Acne.

I Find That Hard To Swallow

I'm not good with remembering birthdays or anniversaries or any sort of occasion that customarily warrants sending a card. Chances are, if I remember the special moment...it's the day of, which doesn't allow enough time to buy a card, write a special note, get a stamp, put it in the mail, and have it arrive on time.

I've long been envious of people that are so on top of their game that they always have a card ready to go...to make their special people feel special. I keep hoping that one day it will just kick in...I'll magically have my own card library and everyone I know will know that I really am thinking of them in advance of any Facebook notification.

So. The other day I went to visit a friend. When I got there she was sitting at her computer, composing an email. She stood up from the computer to greet me and sat back down right quick, saying "Oh, while I'm thinking of it I should put a card in the mail to my friend. She broke her foot." And with that she opened a cabinet stocked with her own personal card library.

She pulled out the perfect card for this occassion. I'm not going to lie...my mouth was ajar...I was both impressed by the preparedness and amused by the ecclectic collection of cards. I mean it when I say...she has a card for every occasion. Some of her arsenal had a clear and definitive purpose.

Just in case you have a friend with a broken foot.

 Just in case you want to console a friend about the passing of Fido.

Just in case you and the office mates want to salute Beverly on her milestone year?

Others were a little harder to figure out just exactly when they would be appropriate to give....

Just in case you want to thank someone for the pillow talk.

Just in case you need to give a shout out to the Holy Spirit?

Just in case you want to address the inappropriate behavior of a fellow gym member? (Its hard to see, but I promise its worth squinting to read every word.)

And then there was this - I don't even...I mean what IS the occasion this is appropriate for?