*Warning*: Topics amusing to 5 year olds ahead. If you consider yourself too good to enjoy what a 5 year old does, I'd suggest not reading ahead.
Yesterday, I was sent a link to an article, "Toilet Seat Dermatitis Making a Comeback" by Jennifer Warner. Apparently, this is a special kind of rash on the poor heinies of children due to wooden toilet seats (um, what???) or harsh chemical cleaners. Once thought to be obliterated in this country, apparently this condition is now on the list of pediatrician must-know.
This makes me think of the last few days and how they have somehow surrounded the posterior region. No, I am not about to regale you with stories of my own (although mine did get checked out rather obviously as I walked down the hallway to my apartment... but no bragging).
The other day in yoga, a young man was on the mat in front of me. I've seen him before and thought nothing of it. Until he started shifting. He'd lift his hip up and then would come the smell. I kid you not. In a room that is over 100 degrees and this man is pulling this kind of activity... or should I say pushing? And he was right in front of me!!! This was not one of my more thrilling days in yoga to say the least.
And then last night a friend and I were talking about relationships and sneaking in statements that would throw another person off guard, a sneak attack. She happens to think of something else when discussing sneak attacks. When I then get a text message to this effect, "on the bus today, i farted. it smelled. i didn't care. so there." My essential response? Remind me not to ride a bus with you. I then got regaled with other stories of such activities, including always warning friends of what's coming. I'm pretty sure I still don't want to be on a bus with this person.
So I'm off to write my proposal, work, go to yoga, and hopefully have no other posterior related incidents in the process.
Although, please, feel free to regale me with stories of your own personal posterior set backs or recent experiences with others who have chosen to share their posterior hot air.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Stories
Up the wazoo to share, but I shall only do two or three to save your poor eyes.
The first dates back to Saturday. Where I have not one, but two stories.
The first involves lunch with Christine. We meet around 2pm for a meal at a cute little restaurant, Busboys & Poets. We sit, we carefully consider what will make for a healthy meal, and then proceed to eat it, enjoy it, and enjoy chatting. Next thing you know, the waiter comes by, asking, "Would you ladies like to see the dinner menu?" We'd been sitting there chatting for long enough that we ended up staying through two meals. Go us! But we were healthy during both meals - although now I'm having a major hankering for grits again. Yes, you heard me, grits.
The second involves a lovely trip to the hospital with a friend of mine who needed to go for various purposes. Well, we're hanging in the room when in walks a med student, graduating in 2010. It was clear he was still figuring all of it out and I just really wanted to pat him on the head and tell him it's ok. Then in walks a gyno. Let me tell you, this girl was having no female problems, so why send in a gyno to follow up the young doc who was so bumbly, I couldn't tell ya. Yet, she walks in, glances at me, turns back to the patient and says, "so who do you have with you here? your mom?" The look on my friends face made her add, "your sister?" While I just sat there, she looks at me, and I look back going, "do I really look that old tonight???" Now I'm mom, whee.
And last, but certainly not least. Derrick decides to attend yoga with me today. Well, we somehow get talked into doing the 90-Day Challenge. Where you have to attend a session a day for 90 days and the reward is a free month. I'm all about a free month, so why not??? What's the worst that'll happen? We don't make it? Ok!
Well, seeing as how we both had a fair amount of drinks last night, hot yoga today was probably not the smartest idea we've ever had as we both performed worse than the first time we went. Pathetic. Well, there was one pose where you're standing with your legs spread (you heard me, legs spread) and bent over from the waist. Well, Derrick and I happened to place our mats rather close to each other, so as I was coming up, I somehow managed to butt my head straight into his butt. Gives a whole new meaning to having a head up your ass.
On that note.. have a good night!
The first dates back to Saturday. Where I have not one, but two stories.
The first involves lunch with Christine. We meet around 2pm for a meal at a cute little restaurant, Busboys & Poets. We sit, we carefully consider what will make for a healthy meal, and then proceed to eat it, enjoy it, and enjoy chatting. Next thing you know, the waiter comes by, asking, "Would you ladies like to see the dinner menu?" We'd been sitting there chatting for long enough that we ended up staying through two meals. Go us! But we were healthy during both meals - although now I'm having a major hankering for grits again. Yes, you heard me, grits.
The second involves a lovely trip to the hospital with a friend of mine who needed to go for various purposes. Well, we're hanging in the room when in walks a med student, graduating in 2010. It was clear he was still figuring all of it out and I just really wanted to pat him on the head and tell him it's ok. Then in walks a gyno. Let me tell you, this girl was having no female problems, so why send in a gyno to follow up the young doc who was so bumbly, I couldn't tell ya. Yet, she walks in, glances at me, turns back to the patient and says, "so who do you have with you here? your mom?" The look on my friends face made her add, "your sister?" While I just sat there, she looks at me, and I look back going, "do I really look that old tonight???" Now I'm mom, whee.
And last, but certainly not least. Derrick decides to attend yoga with me today. Well, we somehow get talked into doing the 90-Day Challenge. Where you have to attend a session a day for 90 days and the reward is a free month. I'm all about a free month, so why not??? What's the worst that'll happen? We don't make it? Ok!
Well, seeing as how we both had a fair amount of drinks last night, hot yoga today was probably not the smartest idea we've ever had as we both performed worse than the first time we went. Pathetic. Well, there was one pose where you're standing with your legs spread (you heard me, legs spread) and bent over from the waist. Well, Derrick and I happened to place our mats rather close to each other, so as I was coming up, I somehow managed to butt my head straight into his butt. Gives a whole new meaning to having a head up your ass.
On that note.. have a good night!
Saturday, January 16, 2010
German and Sex?
I've ordered language books on Amazon. I've also considered learning German, amongst a few other languages (I tend to think far too ahead of myself... clearly).
To note, Amazon makes recommendations based on the items you've rated, purchased, and have on your wish list.
Well, I put the learning German book on my wish list as a reminder that I want to step outside of my boundaries one of these days and do something interesting and somewhat out of the blue.
Amazon recommends a rather interesting book to me, one based on the fact that I have this German language teaching book on my wish list. It's called Frenzy: 60 Tales of Seduction or some such type thing.
UM??? Because I might, maybe, possibly, want to learn German, I'm being smacked with a SEX book??? Or maybe Amazon really knows... I'll just stop there.
I kid. I kid. But if someone could please explain to me the connection between learning German and reading about doing the nasty, I'd really appreciate it.
To note, Amazon makes recommendations based on the items you've rated, purchased, and have on your wish list.
Well, I put the learning German book on my wish list as a reminder that I want to step outside of my boundaries one of these days and do something interesting and somewhat out of the blue.
Amazon recommends a rather interesting book to me, one based on the fact that I have this German language teaching book on my wish list. It's called Frenzy: 60 Tales of Seduction or some such type thing.
UM??? Because I might, maybe, possibly, want to learn German, I'm being smacked with a SEX book??? Or maybe Amazon really knows... I'll just stop there.
I kid. I kid. But if someone could please explain to me the connection between learning German and reading about doing the nasty, I'd really appreciate it.
Friday, January 15, 2010
BC?
No, I am not referring to Before Christ.
I'm referring to birth control. Which I take solely for purposes of... um... controlling mood swings. Really. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
You're probably wondering why I'd share such "private" information. Only because there is a story that must be shared.
I was prescribed a new one and started it yesterday. I go to open the package. Previously, it was a little packet of pills in a box, open the little box, dump out the package, and pop the pills out. Pretty simple right?
Not so much with the new ones. It's this hard shell with the package tucked into it. So I'm yanking and pulling and the little sucker just is not coming out. I'm trying to pry open the box, whole nine yards. When it happens. I manage to slide out the package by twisting it on it's axis from inside this hard box contraption. I'm a little confused why this must be so difficult. I mean, if you were to take this for other purposes (although I can't imagine what they are...)... don't they want you to take it???
I can do a multitude of things, opening pill cases and containers are apparently not on that list of things.
I'm referring to birth control. Which I take solely for purposes of... um... controlling mood swings. Really. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
You're probably wondering why I'd share such "private" information. Only because there is a story that must be shared.
I was prescribed a new one and started it yesterday. I go to open the package. Previously, it was a little packet of pills in a box, open the little box, dump out the package, and pop the pills out. Pretty simple right?
Not so much with the new ones. It's this hard shell with the package tucked into it. So I'm yanking and pulling and the little sucker just is not coming out. I'm trying to pry open the box, whole nine yards. When it happens. I manage to slide out the package by twisting it on it's axis from inside this hard box contraption. I'm a little confused why this must be so difficult. I mean, if you were to take this for other purposes (although I can't imagine what they are...)... don't they want you to take it???
I can do a multitude of things, opening pill cases and containers are apparently not on that list of things.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Garbage
I get to Starbucks near work this morning, in order to get some studying time in before my shift starts. As it is a full day today, the last of my worries is how I look (go figure this would be true right???).
As I was a delinquent this weekend and didn't do my laundry, I'm down to very few underoos. So I'm wearing a pair that say, "Dear Santa" on the front and "I want everything, Love me" stamped across my butt. Yes, this is covered up by a pair of jeans.
Yet, I could handle Santa bringing me everything, heck, maybe these will give me good luck today!
Well, that hope was squashed early on. I walk across the little parking lot, only to get stared at, then whistled at by the garbage men.
Santa, when I said I wanted everything, I was not referring to garbage!
On another note, happy birthday Annie!!! I'm looking forward to our oh so thrilling appointment.
As I was a delinquent this weekend and didn't do my laundry, I'm down to very few underoos. So I'm wearing a pair that say, "Dear Santa" on the front and "I want everything, Love me" stamped across my butt. Yes, this is covered up by a pair of jeans.
Yet, I could handle Santa bringing me everything, heck, maybe these will give me good luck today!
Well, that hope was squashed early on. I walk across the little parking lot, only to get stared at, then whistled at by the garbage men.
Santa, when I said I wanted everything, I was not referring to garbage!
On another note, happy birthday Annie!!! I'm looking forward to our oh so thrilling appointment.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
A Claification
In reference to my spread legs.
I sit like a man. That's all there is to it. No, really. Not quite the point.
Apparently, I was never to hear this comment. Which saddens me immensely because it is comments such as these that get me through the day. It has been a long-standing joke amongst my friends and even family what kind of girl I REALLY am.
I mean, hello, let's take a look at the evidence... spread legs... low-cut tops... home every Friday and Saturday nights...
Wait... wait... I have been vindicated! I'm not THAT kind of girl.
So I encourage all who read to share such comments with me. Granted, it hasn't stopped most of you who know and love me, but for those who may be relatively new to the world of Mo... raunchy is my middle name (sorry Mom, lost the other two to give room to raunchy... maybe you can find them in my sock drawer??? Oh wait, that's also my undies drawer... nope, there is no way the lost middle names will be found in the monstrosities of my bras... sorry Mama!)
Who knows? Maybe next you'll see me dancing around in a little elf suit borrowed from a dear ol' friend of mine... And yes, that comment is going to get him in trouble all over again.
Anybody else sensing my ultimate plan here??? I do so like causing trouble...
Devil in disguise, ladies and gents. I bet you never knew you were in the presence of such greatness.
On this bombshell, I bid you all good night.
I sit like a man. That's all there is to it. No, really. Not quite the point.
Apparently, I was never to hear this comment. Which saddens me immensely because it is comments such as these that get me through the day. It has been a long-standing joke amongst my friends and even family what kind of girl I REALLY am.
I mean, hello, let's take a look at the evidence... spread legs... low-cut tops... home every Friday and Saturday nights...
Wait... wait... I have been vindicated! I'm not THAT kind of girl.
So I encourage all who read to share such comments with me. Granted, it hasn't stopped most of you who know and love me, but for those who may be relatively new to the world of Mo... raunchy is my middle name (sorry Mom, lost the other two to give room to raunchy... maybe you can find them in my sock drawer??? Oh wait, that's also my undies drawer... nope, there is no way the lost middle names will be found in the monstrosities of my bras... sorry Mama!)
Who knows? Maybe next you'll see me dancing around in a little elf suit borrowed from a dear ol' friend of mine... And yes, that comment is going to get him in trouble all over again.
Anybody else sensing my ultimate plan here??? I do so like causing trouble...
Devil in disguise, ladies and gents. I bet you never knew you were in the presence of such greatness.
On this bombshell, I bid you all good night.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Pizza Dreams
I haven't updated! Don't hurt me! I know you're all so very disappointed not to have had a daily dose of yours truly - but I am back in action!
For once in my life, I went to bed halfway early last night. About two hours into my sleep, I vaguely wake-up, smelling pizza. I couldn't figure out why the smell was so strong, had someone broken in, with pizza??? I'm totally okay with a break-in if they bring pizza... just saying...
And apparently, in my half comatose, but dying for pizza state, I texted Lynn. Go figure? It was somewhat horrifying to check my texts this morning. I haven't been that afraid to check my text messages since the last time I was falling down toasted - and it has been a long time since that sorry state.
And no mom, I did not drink on a work night, so alcohol is not to blame.
Just a desperate wish for a really excellent piece of pizza.
I never said I made sense...
For once in my life, I went to bed halfway early last night. About two hours into my sleep, I vaguely wake-up, smelling pizza. I couldn't figure out why the smell was so strong, had someone broken in, with pizza??? I'm totally okay with a break-in if they bring pizza... just saying...
And apparently, in my half comatose, but dying for pizza state, I texted Lynn. Go figure? It was somewhat horrifying to check my texts this morning. I haven't been that afraid to check my text messages since the last time I was falling down toasted - and it has been a long time since that sorry state.
And no mom, I did not drink on a work night, so alcohol is not to blame.
Just a desperate wish for a really excellent piece of pizza.
I never said I made sense...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
