A Lose-Lose Situation

Sometimes exaggeration helps to get a point across, but today, I want to be completely honest. And rather than build up the suspense, I'm just going to put it out there on the table.

A customer and I were talking. I was chatting, working our new systems like an old pro, and writing things down when the top from my ink pen decided it didn't want to rest peacefully atop the pen like a good cap would. Suddenly, without warning, my pen top decided to commit suicide and dive bomb into the chasm that is betwixt my breasts right in front of the customer. I was speechless. I was wearing a v-neck shirt and a RED pen top just flew into my shirt. (Enters the lose-lose situation.) Do I take the high road and say, "Excuse me, it looks like my pen top is trying to get fresh with me." That would definitely put all my cards on the table. Though, there is this slight chance that he didn't see it. Look, I said it was slight. He didn't say anything, and I was a little too troubled to make direct eye contact with him to see if we were supposed to be communicating telepathically. I prentended it didn't happen. It was all I could do. I wasn't prepared to go digging in my shirt in front of a customer. I just wasn't. However, I am completely aware that he was probably thinking I didn't notice the piece of plastic that had just made new living arrangements in between my boobs.

A real man would not have missed such an opportunity to help a young lady out.


Boy Crazy

I never considered myself one to miss the past; however, recently, that seems to be all that is on my mind. I turned twenty-five this year, and in the past few months, all I can think about are the things I will never get to expierence again.

Things that I can actually remember in high school:
-Trying so hard to catch up to this really hot guy, also known as Wes Ward, that I missed more than the intended couple of stairs and landed on my knees.
-Taking my camera on the last day of school and making my girlfriends hide me while I snapped shots of guys that were so totally hot I could never have talked to them.
-Running into Daxton Grubb or at least getting as close as possible just to smell his Eternity drenched body.
-Bragging about running into Daxton Grubb to several girls while he was behind me and thought I was the biggest nerd ever.
-Counting the number of times my then boyfriend kissed me at school by marking it on my hands, which he totally figured out and I completely denied...even to this day.
-Racing out of English class just to catch my first ex-boyfriend's little brother's attention, in hopes he would fall madly in love with me and his brother would want me back.
-Making out with my date in the movie theater so much that to this very day, the smell of popcorn on anyone's breath sometimes turns my stomach.
-Falling on the steps at my prom and grabbing someone's ass in front of me to keep my balance.
-Violently throwing up (through my nostrils) at our Winterfest dance while the table behind me stood and cheered me on and my date dry heaved beside me as he watched.
-Dancing to some tribel type music from the Lion King like a crazy fool with my eyes closed and being busted by a hot senior.
-Dousing myself in perfume and applying make-up in sixth period so my then boyfriend would take me to his house where we could make out for thirty minutes before my parents would notice I was late.


To Shine or Not to Shine

Is it bad that I have a file saved on my Outlook program with e-mails where people have praised my good work? Does this mean that I have an inflated ego?

I'm rationalizing that it is the same thing as hanging onto thank-you notes.


Random Things I Conquered and Random Things that Conquered Me

I changed the oil in my car for the second time.
I attempted to chisel ice from a freezer and punctured the liner instead.
I painted my toenails.
I embarrassed myself when a friend mentioned "capitalism" and I questioned his belief in "capitol punishment."
I impressed my boss with some legal knowledge.
I missed the season finale of Sex and the City because I lost track of time being a grease monkey.
I am going to see this band!
I hated the season finale of Sex and the City.
I learned how to gap a spark plug.


The Remains of the Seattle

So, if you read my blog, we are all well aware of the fact I decided to take a vacation on the west coast this year, in the beloved city of Seattle. I just finished updating all of my bills, and I am somewhat proud to admit that I am not negative in my account. I have a whopping $1.81 left, which is amazing, really.

Since I decided to stay at a posh hotel, I completely forgot to budget for things like mandatory valet parking, which ending up costing over a hundred dollars. In addition, I have stayed with this particular hotel chain before in my favorite little big city Atlanta and the internet is free there; however, Seattle charged me. Therefore, there were no regular updates to my blog, and there was also virtually no checking of the email, unless you count me stopping into the Mac store to thief the use of their internet because I'm not beneath doing so.

I enjoyed Seattle tremendously. There were nice breezes coming from the bays, which seemed to be in every direction that you looked. I never got tired of looking over the shimmering blue waters and wishing I were on one of the sailboats or riding the skis, thinking that if my father had planned this vacation, that is exactly where I'd be. (Sidebar: My father has always planned the best vacations, and he did so long before the convenience of the internet.)

The decision to rent a car turned out to be a good one, especially when my mother said we should drive the ten or so blocks when we went shopping--in case we bought a lot. We ended up parking two blocks away from our hotel and paid $23 dollars for about five hours of parking. Remember, that $23 was in addition to the $28 we paid to park our car at the hotel. In addition, I want to mention the importance of remembering which block the garage is on, especially if every step you take is in any sort of high-heeled shoe.

The one thing I do remember with great clarity: swearing off reading a map ever again.


The Unofficial Official Update

Well, my grandmother made it through her surgery. I joined her for a little while tonight. She remains heavily drugged with dressing and ice packs around her face and neck. She did manage to utter a couple sentences though, one of which, I swore to myself that I would blog.

"I should've just kept my wrinkles." --Granny, as we call her.


What's In a Face

In less than twelve hours, my grandmother is going to have plastic surgery. She has opted to have a face lift done. I visited her tonight completely prepared to do some obscene begging for her picture; however, she obliged my request rather quickly--something I hadn't anticipated. She's already been to two visits with her surgeon to ensure this procedure is something she truly wants to do. Today, they shaved parts of her hairline, mainly the back of her neck, in preparation for the pulling, tucking, and stitching of her skin.

I'm incredibly worried about her. I'm trying hard to refrain from telling her not to do this surgery. On the other hand, I'm fully ready to document the horrible process. Believe I'll be armed with a camera every day I see her.

My granny said she is prepared for the pain. She brought Alieve with her.


London Bound

So, I went out tonight--something that's typically a little hard on me. Compound that fact with the idea that I had a horrible day at work and didn't come home until after seven o'clock. I said tiny prayers that since so much had gone wrong with my day & I was really dreading the evening, that just perhaps, I could have an awesome time.

Apparently, I have connections. Four gay men and one great girlfriend later, I think I had one of the best nights out ever. I drank only two drinks, one being an apple martini, and discovered, I can get totally blasted for fewer than fifteen dollars with something completely feminine in hand. Who knew?

There were so many great conversations tonight that I remarked to myself, "I need to remember to blog that," but I think the apple martini erased most of my good intentions. I do recall being in the middle of what was probably a private moment, but I was too drunk to behave with proper manners and enjoying the middle to watch one man profess his love to another by mouthing it. When he asked his partner if he understood him, he remarked, "I was looking at your eyes. I didn't know I was supposed to be reading your lips." I then took it upon myself to lean in and blurt out, "He said he loves you," which all the sudden made me feel all warm and fuzzy on behalf of them. Of course, then my brain started shouting, "Okay, well nobody loves me!" and a furrow probably set in on my brow.

Sadly, after such a night, I decided I totally want a gay boyfriend.

Now accepting applications.