Thursday, June 29, 2006

just shoot me now...

This is probably one of those times when it would be good if I drank. (I'll talk about that another time if that is confusing to anyone)

I need to find a new swim suit. I have a couple of old (like 8 – 10 years old) suits that still fit, but, I kind of wonder about the structural integrity of old spandex. I wouldn’t really want to discover that it breaks down over time while wearing it.

Now, here's the thing: It should come as no surprise that I’m not the girliest girl. I'm not into clothing, nails, hair. If it's clean, not too big, not too small, covers what needs covering and is comfortable, I consider it a success clothing-wise. My hair gets "done" (i.e. little bit of mousse. Quick upside down blow-dry. Little bit of spray. Done.) in the morning and by mid-afternoon it is frequently up in a ponytail because it's bugging me. My nails are short and not covered with any sort of color.

I don’t like shopping under ideal circumstances, so imagine how much I enjoy the swim suit shopping. Ugh. There are a couple of shopping scenarios that are sure to rip away any self-esteem I have saved up and swim suit shopping is one of them. (Formal-ish clothing shopping is another. As is undergarment shopping. And “work clothing” shopping, back when I needed a separate work wardrobe. Well, really, almost any clothing shopping.)

So, I’m about to set off on a quest. I briefly looked for a swim suit the last time I ventured into a mall, but didn’t see anything I liked. I don’t have high hopes at this point. By the end of June (i.e. the beginning of summer), the stores are likely stocking parkas and long sleeved sweaters rather than summer items. I have a style in mind, which, generally will spell disaster. If I know in advance what I am looking for the shopping djinns will quickly hide all possible items.

Style, coverage, what kind of activity I might want to take part in while wearing the suit all have to be considered. I’ve been told a couple of times recently that I should wear a bikini. This advice was, of course, proffered by guys. (shocking). My response is always: “You know how some women wear a bikini and, while you admire their courage and ability to feel good about themselves, really, to be completely honest: they maybe shouldn’t be wearing a bikini in public.” I don’t say that because I think I’m overweight. I’m exactly the weight I need to be for my height. I just know that the weight (and its accompanying extra, er, area) isn’t all that evenly distributed and certain areas are better left covered. It might look okay from a certain angle if I don't breathe too much and don't really move. Call me crazy, but I don't know if that's the way I want to spend my precious summer water-vicinity time.

So, I will go. I will search. I will likely return home empty-handed and will spend the evening trying to dig the last chocolate chip out of the bag.

Wish me luck.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

The following post is fictional and is not intended to reflect any real person or events*

I have a bone to pick. With no one person in particular*. Well, that’s not necessarily completely true, but for the sake of not pointing fingers and/or getting myself in trouble, let’s pretend it’s not with any one person in particular.

Here’s the thing: If you make plans with me, for any type of event or occasion, it is TOTALLY FINE with me if you need to cancel or postpone. I am fine with that and/or I will get over it.



Seriously. It’s not like there are no means of communication available. You have cell phones, email, msn, land line phones, mental telepathy... I mean, there are ways and means of communication available to you. To just assume that I am not only going to catch on that you aren’t able to make it for lunch or the prom or whatever, but also that I would be fine with you just not showing up… I mean, seriously? Seriously.

Also, it is REALLY not okay to turn it around on me and make me feel guilty for being disappointed that you cancelled without telling me**. I don’t care if the police needed to take your statement and you had to wait for the paramedics to tend to the more seriously injured before transporting you to the emergency room where there was such a log jam due to the 20 car pileup you were in that you had to wait for 5 hours just to get stitches and an xray and then you had to try to find a way to get home because your wallet was in your car and your car is at the bottom of the 20 car pileup***, you STILL should be able to find 2 minutes in there to call me and say “Hey, I’m not going to be able to make it for lunch.” To tell me that I should be more understanding is just going to PISS ME OFF.

That is all.

*If you happen to be reading this and feeling a twinge of guilt right now, you should maybe make it up to someone. If you happen to be reading this and you know ME and you are feeling a twinge of guilt, you should bring me, at the very least, a grande Starbucks tomorrow.
**I realize that “cancelled without telling me” is just a euphemism for being stood up. It makes the bitter spinster girl feel better to say “cancelled without telling me” so shut up. You do NOT want me writing a rant about you and your correcting me and my euphemisms, do you?
***If you were in a 20 car pileup and needed stitches and an xray, I would, of course, be so overwhelmingly relieved that you are alright when you call. But you still should at least attempt to call.

Thursday, June 08, 2006


I realized recently that I email my friend more often than I actually talk to her. Is that weird? Probably. Considering how close by she is and that we live in not only the same time zone but the same city. Often during the day something funny happens and the only person I can think of telling (or the only person I can tell) about it is her, so, the emails. The constant, blabby, rambling, sometimes whiny emails.

Lucky her.

THEN, I remembered that I started a blog where I can post all these things and share them with a wider audience. Cause if there is one thing the internets need more of, it’s blather: occasionally whiny, sometimes rambling, usually pointless blather.

Following are examples of stuff I email to my friend from work* because I just feel like I have to get it out and tell someone but which now I will maybe remember to put up here instead of always emailing her and she can read it here along with all of you. (Yes. YOU.)(It IS possible that there is someone reading this)(It is too.)

-one of my customers has taken to calling me “Loriliscious”. While I was somewhat startled when this first happened, I’ve chosen to find it funny. Although, it is a bit (a lot) odd, since I’ve only seen/spoken to this customer 3 times and 2 of those times he called me “Loriliscious”. I haven’t had a nickname since … well, since my friend’s husband taught their daughters to call me “Gory”.

-2 nights ago I dreamt that I was in a small hatchback car being driven around Los Angeles by Zach Braff**. We were driving on sidewalks and down staircases into the subway system a la the remake of The Italian Job, except we were NOT in a Mini Cooper. In the dream I kept wondering where he was taking me and why we weren’t in a Mini Cooper. Eventually we decided to go to a movie. In Edmonton (I don’t live in Edmonton. I live in the much cooler, better city to the South: Calgary)(Hi friends and family in Edmonton). We drove into the waiting area for the movie, a vast space with cushy benches and natural light streaming through 20ft high windows. While we sat waiting for the movie to begin, I realized that my friend Julie was about to get married RIGHT THERE in the foyer of the movie theater! (It WAS a beautiful space). So, we found seats and enjoyed the lunch that was served as the wedding was taking place (what a good idea). (I never did see Julie, who, as far as I know is NOT getting married, in the dream.)

-I think I’m going to do the Betty’s Run (walk portion) with my friend Julie (who is not getting married) this coming Sunday. I’ve seen the signs for the run, but didn’t ever realize there was a walk portion. (There is NO way I could run 5 miles. I don't think I could run 5 miles if someone was chasing me. With a gun.)

The Run raises money for ALS research. My dad had ALS and passed away in February 2003. I have wanted to get involved with this event for a few years now and just never have. We're too late to raise donations really, but I do want to do this.

-Thinking about the Betty’s Run/Walk must have put my dad into my brain. I dreamt last night that my parents were going to stop by my place. In the dream, just my dad came. He was walking around and laughing like there was nothing wrong. In the dream I thought “Oh, so this must take place before he gets sick” which was very strange. I had such a nice time in the dream with him. It made me sad and happy at the same time when I woke up. Strange.

*Obviously, there will be things that I won’t post here, you know, about work and people I know. Things that would get me in trouble. Or get me homeless. You know.
**I don't know where the Zach Braff appearance came from. I like Scrubs and Garden State and all, but... I don't usually dream about celebrities. Other than the time I dreamt that this guy I was dating was really mad at me and was going to break up with me (which he did 2 days later btw) but I managed to convince him (in the dream) to not break up with me and suddenly he was Colin Firth. (Again, in that instance: I don't know why it was Colin Firth).

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

:) . ???

Have a Happy Period, my ass…

  1. sharp stabbing pains in lower abdomen for a week leading up to the Happy Occasion.

  2. bloating

  3. complete loss of control over skin/break outs

  4. uncontrollable crying with little or no provocation

  5. inability to put aside the ridiculous crap one must deal with on a daily basis at work which nearly leads to a loud confrontation which would certainly have resulted in either more crying or termination of employment or both

  6. pain

  7. aching back

  8. lower abdominal pain

  9. pain

  10. being uncomfortable for as long as it takes for this to end.