Category Archives: the method to my madness

am i the only one who thinks this is funny?, freakin weird shit, misc rantings, the method to my madness

Getting a spider put on your fingernail is a bad idea. Cuz you’ll probably die. Or go to prison. Where you’ll die. Or become someone’s bitch.

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Basically, nothing good can come of it, so just don’t do it.

I have acrylic nails. I have had them forever and I maintain them RELIGIOUSLY. I really don’t have a choice. I have to keep them up. If I don’t, I will have no nails. None. Cuz I’m a nail biter. No, you don’t understand. I’m a BAD nail biter (or would that be a good one?). I’ve been one as long as I can remember. I even think I remember my mom saying once that I came out of the womb with no nails. Which means I probably had it from conception. I totally blame my mom. And she is a former biter too, which supports my case. Thanks so much for the genetic defect MOM!

I go in last Saturday for a backfill, like clockwork. The nail place I go to has a HUGE display table full of examples. Anything & pretty much everything you can think of, they’ve got. Plus they rotate in some seasonal examples cuz they’re greedy mothers cuz it’s just good business. I head over to the display table looking for something Halloweeny (WTF is wrong with me? Halloweeny?). But anything I remotely give a second glance to is like an additional $30+. I don’t THINK so. Then my nail tech comes over to ‘help’ and I know I’m in trouble. Actually, ‘in trouble’ doesn’t really cut it. I’m screwed. I just can’t say no to her. So, I let her talk me into getting a spider on one of my nails. Great. Just great.

She gets the backfill done first just like normal. Then it’s time for the spider. She puts a big glob of black acrylic goo in the middle of my nail. I just KNOW that there’s an egg sac in there that’s just waiting for Halloween night to bust open and take me as a human sacrifice. But how do I tell her NOOOOO! I’m not ready to die yet! without coming across as rude? I just can’t do it. I just can’t tell her that her idea scares the living shit outta me. So I suffer in silence. And while the end result is quite attractive and season appropriate, it does nothing to calm the horrific fears I have of what is to come on Halloween.

And since then…..

I have to hide that fingernail. I have noticed the spider eyeing people around me looking for more potential victims. YIKES! I can’t let that happen! I’d go to prison for murder cuz who in their right mind would believe that a spider on my nail killed people? Plus, I would not make a good inmate. I would completely freak out. Which would leave me a prime candidate to get a shiv in the prison yard. Yep, I’m that girl. Or another inmate would corner me in the shower and make me her bitch. Neither of those are good options for me.

Also, everytime I catch the spider out of the corner of my eye, I freak out screaming, “Spider! OMG! A SPIDER!” Then I grab my stapler and start banging my hand with it yelling, “Kill it! Kill it! KILL IT!” And then my biting habit kicks in, but I CAN’T GET IT OFF!

So now my hand is a sick combination of black/blue/purple/yellow and that finger is all shredded and bloody. It’s pretty much completely useless. Which is why it took me a week to write this post. And my job is in danger of ending even earlier. I keep getting written up for being a disruption in the office. But then again, my job will be over when I get arrested for murder anyway.

Can anyone recommend a lawyer? I’m gonna need a good one to keep me from going to prison. And then I think I’m gonna sue my nail technician. It’s all her fault. Better yet, I’ll sic my spider on her. Yeah, that would work.

am i the only one who thinks this is funny?, friends can save you...or commit you, gigglesnorts, S-E-X is NOT dirty, the method to my madness

Gigglesnort of the week

Mondays are rapidly becoming work avoidance days, so I’m getting caught up on my to do list from yesterday.

Many of you are asking, “WTF is a gigglesnort? A lot of my friends can tell you just exactly what it is. A gigglesnort is something that is so amazingly funny, so outrageously funny, so laugh-out-loud funny that it causes me to snort. And it’s no itty bitty snort that leaves you wondering whether or not you really heard it. It’s loud. There’s no mistaking EXACTLY what is and EXACTLY where it’s coming from (i.e. me). And I want to share the things that make me gigglesnort (or come really close to it). Cuz I don’t wanna be alone. I KNOW there is someone else out there that will react just as I do. You know who you are.

So to start it all off an email I received this past week from a friend:

A professor at the University of North Carolina was giving a lecture on ‘Involuntary Muscular Contractions’ to his first year medical students. Realizing this was not the most riveting subject, the professor decided to lighten the mood slightly. He pointed to a young woman in the front row and asked, “Do you know what your asshole is doing while you’re having an orgasm?” She replied, “Probably deer hunting with his buddies.”

It took 45 minutes to restore order in the classroom.

Disclaimer: I did some research so that I could properly credit the source, but did not find it at the time this was posted. If anyone comes across it, let me know and I will update this post. Thank you!
alcohol is good, dumb drivers (even me), entertainment, life's injustices, misc rantings, music for the masses, relationships, the method to my madness, things that make me sad

My mood at the beginning of the evening would have fit in better at a 2 Live Crew show instead of a Rick Springfield show.

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Well, I just finished my homework, so let’s see if I can downshift and talk about this weekend. I know there are some curious minds out there. Now, it’s entirely possible that this will make sense to no one else but me. And I will not be in the least offended if you run screaming from this post. LOL

Last Friday is the Rick Springfield concert in Wendover. The show starts at 8pm and the trip takes 2 hrs from our house(especially going down Bangerter). I plan to leave home around 5 pm to allow time for motel check-in and maybe food (big maybe). The husband leaves work at Noon to take our daughter to stay with his mother. Even with travel time, he has plenty of time to get ready. I leave work at 4pm, like I planned, cuz I can’t take the day off or leave much earlier than that. I plan to dress casual, cuz it’s not Vegas people. It’s just Wendover. But I want to fix my hair and makeup a little, though. Anyone who really knows me knows that I didn’t already have my hair and makeup done for work. And I still need to pack a few things. I get home to find the husband dressing up. And I’m all, “You don’t need to dress up. I’m not.” He says he wants to dress a little nicer. Fine. Whatever. I pack my stuff in the suitcase and all that’s left is to change my top and fix my hair/makeup. Husband says he thought about going to the bank, but didn’t actually do it cuz we can stop by on the way out of town. That makes no sense to me since he left work more than 4 hours ago, but fine. Whatever. He then remarks that he didn’t realize this was a dress rehearsal. And I’m all, “Dress rehearsal? WTH is that supposed to mean?” And he says nevermind, which of course pisses me off. So when he does finally answer me, it’s a derogatory remark about me wanting to make myself look a little nicer. And I’m all, WTF? You’re dressing up and you can’t understand why I wanna do my hair and put on some makeup? You left work when? And you couldn’t bother to stop by the bank to save us some time? Seriously? Ok, so that was all in my head, but still. I was pissed. So I go into the bathroom (slamming the door for the desired effect) and realize that there’s no time to do my hair or makeup. That’s just great. Thankyouverymuch. I throw my hair up in a ponytail and come out of the bathroom to start throwing my last few things together. Maybe I’ll have some time once we get there to put some makeup on. I tell the husband that I’m upset about not doing anything wrong, but yet being made to feel really small for needing to do a few things. The husband then decides to tell me to go by myself and to have a good time. I NEED to have a good time by myself, he says. And I’m all, “Absolutely not! I’m not going to give you an opportunity to throw it back in my face later that I was a bitch who kept you from going to this concert! You’re going!” I may not speak to you for the entire trip, but you are FUCKING GOING! Ok, so that last part was an exaggeration. I grab everything except his CPAP and stomp down the stairs. The husband is behind me mumbling how I’m stubborn for not letting him carry anything. And I’m thinking, Dood, you just need to shut the hell up and get in the damn car before I change my mind! I throw everything in the car. And realize I’m starving. I know I won’t be eating before the show and I WILL be drinking. A LOT. That’s a given at this point. So I search the pantry for something to eat and the husband asks if I want yogurt. And I’m all, “Yogurt? And exactly how am I supposed to eat that?” He says with a spoon. And I’m all, “Seriously? While I’m driving?” Cuz I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let YOU drive! We get on the road and he doesn’t say a word. Not one. For like 30 minutes. And I’m thinking, Dood, you are SO not helping your case. He finally apologizes, and for once it actually sounded sincere (Long story. Really REALLY long story.). And he offers to drive so I can get ready. No way I’m letting him drive when we’re in a time crunch. HELL no. So we settle into a slightly less awkward silence for a while, which is just fine by me.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until the last 30 miles or so, which is where we encounter a bunch of drivers that are freakin’ STOOPID. They have no idea of how to drive on a two-lane highway (hint: YOU DON’T CAMP YOUR ASS IN THE LEFT LANE! I’m just sayin.). My tolerance on the road is…oohh…zero. Zilch. Nada. Especially now. So, to get away from them, I end up doing 100 the rest of the way to Wendover. The husband looks over at one point, and I’m all, “Yes, I AM doing a hundred!” Just stay on your side of the car. You’re still on my shitlist! Ok, so I only really said that first part. But the rest was on the tip of my tongue, I promise you.

Capping off the night? The motel. I have a reservation, but there’s a delay checking in. The desk clerk goes to get someone’s help. Oh shit. This other person comes out and says that the reservation was cancelled. Ummmmm, I didn’t cancel my reservation. The new clerk says they have one room available (a suite) that’s $129.95. Ummmm, I STILL didn’t cancel my reservation that was booked at $60. She says they’ll get it fixed. She calls customer service who tells her they cancelled the reservation per a phone call on 9/6/09. Ummmm, oooook. I supposedly called to cancel my reservation that I made ONLINE and no one thought to send me a confirmation ONLINE that it was cancelled? Sure, I totally get that. I do it all the time. Amazingly, I stay calm (I have NO idea how at this point). The clerk says they’ll fix it and gets us a room. I’m all, Didn’t you just say that you only had one room? Sweet, we’re gettin the suite? Niiiice! Oh, we’re getting a regular room? Fine. I’ll take it. We’re running out of time before the show starts, so I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want a place to sleep tonight. Wait! Didn’t you just say that you only had one room left?

We head straight to the concert hall after that and I’m so close to spewing forth the slew of 4-letter words I’ve been bottling up for the past 2 hours. Ask Twitter. I’ve got just enough time to throw on some mascara before the concert. And with a wave of that magic wand, I’m transformed into Princess Cinderella who gets swept off her feet by Prince Charming. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t quite that magical. Rick never got anywhere near me. But I got to see a great show.

And I can’t believe it just took me 3 hours to write this. I was reliving it…..in real-time. Great.

girl talk thursday, S-E-X is NOT dirty, the method to my madness, underwear under there

My 1st Girl Talk Thursday

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What kind of undergarments do you wear? Panties? Bra? Underoos?
I think this topic is a brilliant way to start participating in Girl Talk Thursday, don’t you? Sadly, it will be pretty short cuz I’m writing this kinda late and I’m starting to get sleepy. I probably will re-read this tomorrow and add some brilliance to it that I just might miss tonight (watch for the update! LOL).

I have a little late-blooming love for undergarments. But if I had money, it would be a full-blown obsession! I would need a separate closet for just my undergarments! True story. I have my comfy undergarments for some days. The girls need support after all and I’m all about support. But…on the flip side…I just love sexy, frilly, racy, steamy undergarments that just plain make me feel hawt! I am not (I repeat NOT) afraid of thongs. BRING ON THE BUTT FLOSS! Even if no one sees my underwear, I know they are there. And that knowledge it a huge ego boost. HUGE. And the times when someone does get to see them? Honey there’s not enough water in the WORLD to put that fire out!

And since Victoria’s Secret can’t seem to get a fucking clue of what size a REAL sexy woman wears, I have to say how much I love Frederick’s of Hollywood. Frederick’s is this sexy woman’s saving grace. I wouldn’t be able to indulge my addiction without them. Actually, I think it’s time I head upstairs and do some indulging. For me. My ego could use a boost.

am i the only one who thinks this is funny?, friends can save you...or commit you, the method to my madness, weather

Dancing in the street? Maybe not today.

It’s raining. The first big fall rain of the year.

Not that sprinkly shit that decides to tease everyone with the possibility of a temperature drop, but then says “PSYCH!” and stops leaving us hot AND wet. Not from the rain, though, but from the following muggi-ness that hangs afterwards.

Afternoon rain reminds me of another afternoon, a freakin’ million years ago (a.k.a. high school). I can’t remember what time of the year it was (cuz it was a freakin’ million years ago. What part of that did you NOT get?). My friend Robyn and I were at my house and it started to rain. Only it was still sunny outside. So what did we do? We went outside and danced in the rain. In the middle of the street. True story. Cars drove by and we waved. WAVED. We waved at them and kept dancing. After, we went back in the house, soaked and laughing.

There are times when I miss those days. Like today. The first big fall rain. And I would love nothing more than to go outside and dance in the rain. Maybe not in the middle of the street. I’m not crazy. I AM NOT!

Ok, so I just looked out the window. It’s raining REALLY hard. And it’s REALLY windy. And there’s thunder and lightning. I think I will have to postpone my rain dancing for now.

Fuck. My car windows are open.

higher learning? sucker, life in the fast lane, metriculation diaries, the method to my madness

One week down…..

I actually finished my college checklist. WOOT!

  • Apply/get accepted (completed)

  • Take placement tests (completed)

  • Complete New Student Orientation (completed)

  • Apply for financial aid (completed)

  • Select classes (completed)

  • Register for classes (completed)

  • Start classes VERY IMPORTANT! (completed)
    • I survived my first week, amazingly, considering how much things have changed. I’m taking one in-person class and one online class, but all my homework is online. So weird. I spent hours yesterday doing my homework for my College Algebra class bcuz not only am I learning how to use MyMathLab for homework, I’m re-learning a lot of Algebra (or more accurately refreshing my memory).

    The online class I’m taking is Computer Essentials. If I don’t ace this class, I deserve to be bitchslapped. And I already have friends waiting in line to help me out with that. Gotta love ’em!

    I haven’t written here anywhere near as much as I would like. I hope it doesn’t get worse over the next few months. But who knows, maybe my college experiences will give me even more to write about.

    family, kids are the best comic relief, the method to my madness

    Tales of a 5th grade superstar!

     

    She’s a superstar in my eyes, of course.

    This child, who regularly sends me to my *happy place*.

    This child, who is not a mini me, but is a spot-on mini him (in personality more than anything).

    This child, who couldn’t wait to get rid of me on her 1st day, even at a brand new school.

    This child, who was FINALLY able to give us the details of her day at school without a single “I don’t know.”

    This child, who was AMAZED at having more lunch choices at her new school (and actually had a salad on her 2nd day. WHO IS THIS GIRL?).

    This child, who is growing up so fast. She truly is a superstar.

    i'm crafty (at least in my mind), the internet has brainwashed me, the method to my madness

    *updated* It’s blog play time with Stacey.

    My blog is in need of an overhaul. I think. Or I’m just SO bored today that I’ll play with my blog design to pass the time. Either way, you guys are gonna LUUUUUUUVVVVVV me! Maybe not after I burn your eyes with some gawd-awful background color that is immediately blinding. LOL

    Suggestions are welcome, along with (contstructive) criticisms. I imagine this will be a work in progress for the next…………oh let’s just say forever! 🙂

    Let’s have some fun!

    Update – Ok so it’s pretty bare bones right now. Bear with me. It’s temporary. And I expect to hear from you if MY temporary lasts for weeks months years forever!
    alcohol is good, am i the only one who thinks this is funny?, i wouldn't do this if i didn't need the $$$, the internet has brainwashed me, the method to my madness

    *updated* The series of tweets that became a blog post.

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    I’ve totally figured out the cure for my insomnia……….going to work.

    It’s a payroll week and I’m busy, but all I can think of is closing my eyes and going to sleep.

    Fuck people’s paychecks. They don’t need to get paid, right?

    Oh all RIGHT! I’ll pay them, but then I’m putting my head down and going to sleep!

    Ok, so I keep forgetting that I’m sending things to the printer. I get up to do something else and then realize I don’t have what I printed so I print it again.

    OMG I’M KILLING TREES! I should be burned at the stake!

    I need to be stopped cuz it’s not enough that I’m killing trees by wasting paper. Apparently I need to burn them down too for my self-mutilation/self-sacrifice.

    I’m going to hell.

    Good thing I don’t believe in hell.

    And that the liquor store is just down the street.

    Update: So that last line doesn’t really make sense to me, which means I imagine that it *absolutely* doesn’t make any sense to a lot of people. So, let me add that if I’m going to hell, I’ll be the geeky popular wanna be who brings booze to desperately try to fit in.

    Look out Satan…..here I come and I’m bringin’ a keg to get the party started!