Sven

Sven is back in my life.  Long, hard, slippery..... Sven makes me work hard, with my slippery hands and slippery body.  By the end, I'm out of breath and panting......

I'm going back to pole dancing.  What did you think I was talking about?

Directionally Challenged

I may be beyond California, but some things NEVER change.

1.  I'm writing this blog instead of a paper due Sunday.  Then, I do not go home to write, but to the boy toy's house to play my wii.  Yah, you read that right.

2.  I shopped like I have money.  Seriously.  Granted, EVERYTHING was on sale.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

3.  I can't figure out where I am to save my life.  The other day I leave Home Depot (you read that right) and go to turn left onto the main thoroughfare, thinking that's the direction to home.  I have my gps on to go to a store in Rockville and it tells me to bust a B and go the other direction.  I'm thinking I'm going the direction to home, i.e. Rockville, and that this thing is nuts.

Suffice it say... the thing wasn't nuts.  I just had no f'ing clue where I was going.  Moral of the story here?  Don't worry too much about the East Coast jacking all that you know of Morgan.

ER Trips

I know, I bet you're wondering how in the world I can make an ER trip, make that two ER trips, funny.  Or fun.

Puh-lease, this is me we're talking about.  Granted, trip number two was not remotely as funny at the time, there are memories...

Trip number one was not done during a time of immense pain.  Therefore, there was much joking to be had with the nurses and doctor.  Let me tell you about the attractiveness that I was that night: burgandy soft pants that my butt looks huge in, a yellow Cal sweatshirt, a camo shirt under that, and a total granny bra under that.  Don't forget the cute little black shoes.  Yah, really.  I looked hot... make that like a hot mess.

I got hooked up to an IV, had a CT and then... the spinal tap.  Where I had to curl into this tight ball hanging over the food tray.  By then I had a gown on, but yay!  I kept my pants.  I was NOT one of those people roaming the halls with my heinie hanging out.  Now THAT would have been a sight for sore eyes.  Ok, that kinda hurt, not going to lie, but then I got even more drugs and was even loopier.  Best part of all of that?  I got to drive home.  Like a 100-year blind as a bat old fart. 

Trip number two was not quite so eventful.  I looked like shiza, but mainly because I hurt so bad, but my little outfit was cute!  Not that that's saying much... I was asked if I wanted to be left alone at the hospital (I almost wrote high school.. apparently the vicodan is still affecting me...), to which I almost gave a dirty eyeball, but that would have hurt too much.  I'm not going to name names, but the bedside manner of some people needs work.  Just sayin'.  I'm pretty sure I walked in with my brother.  Yes, yes, I don't have a brother, but it felt like I did...  You know, the teenage brothers who don't dare touch their sisters cause of cooties?  Yah, that kind.  Not only did I have horrendous head pains and a sore back, but I also had cooties.  Apparently I frequently have cooties, but that's for another blog...

So I'm still on the big daddy drugs.  I wish I could say I'm having a really good time on them... but I'm really not.  If I'm going to take big daddy drugs, I'd like to be a giggle monster and put on comedy routines.  I guess that's just asking for too much though.

Speaking of drugs... time to go pop some.

Sven

I am utterly thrilled to report that Sven and I have been reunited.

Yes, that shimmery, cold rod and I have become one again.

Heads out of the gutter.  Sven is pole.  A pole dancing pole.  Did I forget to mention I've gone back to pole dancing?

I will tell you this though.  Sven beat me up.

That's only one bruise... from a spin called the hook.  Yes, Sven is a lover beater clearly.

I also took a lap dancing class... really... lap... dancing.  Who wants one???  Sign up now!

And to remind you I'm just a tad bit more than a bruise and that Sven didn't get the best of me...

And a close-up...

I do clean up nice, don't I?

Old Problem

You know you're old when you make an Urkel reference and all the young adults/children you work with have NO CLUE what you're talking about.

You know you're old when you buy One-A-Day multivitamins, then scrutinize the bottle wondering how many you should take.  Worse, when you can barely read the bottle.

You know you're old when you talk about Armageddon, Liv Tyler, and Bruce Willis and again... blank stares.

Let's not even discuss the wrinkles, the getting hit on by a post-50 year old man, and not getting carded.  Let's just not discuss these things.

The Swiss

Sunday afternoon, I received a text from Derrick asking me if I want to go shopping with him.

Um... duh???

So off we go, in the process meeting a friend from Germany, Dominic.

Part of the trip we spent in a Halloween store as I'm beginning to ponder what I should be - seeing as how I'll actually be doing something this Halloween.

I saw this and am trying to talk Michael into it.  Feel free to help me out.

Then Dominic notices something.

And proceeds to ask Derrick and I....

What is the Swiss doing here???

For those of you who do not know the above symbol, it is the American Red Cross.  Not the Swiss.  Aaaahhh.  Who doesn't love the foreigners?

Outtake Reel

Prior to starting school (yes, again,) I had a few assignments.  One such assignment was to tape myself teaching something - non-academic.  So I drafted Annie to be my "student" and drafted Christine to jack her chocolate milkshake recipe to "teach."

The video itself came out juuuuust fine.  It was the outtakes that were the most fun.  I'm only going to share two.  It could be that Annie and I were either (a) nuts (b) tired or (c) just having way too good of a time.  Hopefully you will to when viewing...

The Towel Incident

AND

Blender???

I will say this.  My arms are looking fabulous.  But aprons do NOTHING for a gal's fabulous figure.  So I have been inspired to take up the needle and thread and create an apron that is suitable for women.

Gentlemen, heads OUT of the gutter.  I am NOT referring to a french maid's costume.