Argh...my life! Oh--and some stuff about yogurt...

So I'm laying in bed this morning....and I don't want to get up. Not even the tuna-morning-breath-funk that is Jeter breathing in my face got me motivated (Usually it motivates me to pick up his fuzzy ass and toss him out the door to allow myself "just 15 minutes" more of sleep. Har har.). Yogi bouncing up and down on my head and pulling my hair, however, seemed to do the trick.

But I really didn't want to move, actually. "Why bother?" I think to myself..."it's just the same old crap, day after day, week after week, year after year...". There was also: "And if I could just teleport these cats out of here...and WHY didn't I ever invest in one of those autofeeder thingies? My life would be so much easier in the mornings..."

Needless to say--I need a change of something, and I just don't know what yet. And no. I do not think the autofeeder thing will actually make my life easier...but it's a nice thought, eh?

(Obviously, I also got up and went to work. Not because I wanted to, but, well, someone has to pay my bills.)

I blinked and it was January..now it's almost freaking March. Is there anyway to slow down the clock? Seriously people..I'm not ready to for 2010 to be a quarter of the way over already!

Soooo, to pull myself out of my doldrums, I pre-ordered Chelsea Handler's new book on Amazon. (Yes-I work for a bookstore. No, not even my discount is THAT good.), but it won't be here until the week of March 15th. This, at least, gives me something to be happy about. It never fails--I forget I ordered something, and then it arrives and makes me as happy as a school girl.

Clearly I also forget I was also the one who paid for my own present, or I wouldn't be so damn excited. DUR.

I have to get up at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow----Yea for Inventory! (Actually--Yea for not having to be at work all day and maybe, just maybe, not being totally abused by the doctor's office. Boo, however, for having to have more blood work done because my first draw was sketch...and just to make sure I'm not dying of some weird freaky deeky disease, I get to go back and get stuck again.) And then I get to have a dose of culture. The Cherry Orchard is being put on at Butler--so a few of us are going...but first we get dinner at the Aristocrat..yum. Strongbow on tap!

Also something to be happy about? Yours truly is NOT working the day after March 17th.

Let that sink in, will ya. If you were me, wouldn't you be happy about this?

Yes. Yes you would be.

And a word of warning:

While not exactly a connoisseur of anything, really, I do know my way around Yogurt. Fruit on the bottom (my favorite), mixed up with bits in it, soy yogurt (NOT my favorite), fro-yo, and yummy, yummy extra think fat free Greek Yogurt (Trader Joe's is the best for smoothies--hands down! ). Now. Dannon and Yoplait, the giants of the American Yogurt Market have entered into the Greek Yogurt niche. My take? Dannon--with the fruit on the bottom (real fruit--and not too sweet) was pretty good. Yoplait? WTF Yopliat? WTF? Your "greek" yogurt may be one of the foulest things I have ever put in my mouth--and I've dated a lot of douchey guys...so that's saying something. Really. It was wallpaper paste with a pink tint that made me think of that stuff they put in your mouth for dental molds. Seriously people: Stay away from this crap! Unless you want to feed it to someone you don't like..and then, by all means--buy away....

Birthday Shennanigans...and other nonsense

Ah.

Turning thirty. If you had asked me five years ago that it would be fun--I would have probably called you a dirty liar...but it was! Thanks again to all of you who put in the hard work to pull it off-more on that later.

So what better way to celebrate turning 30 than by going to the doctor for an annual exam. (Not a lady? then you don't know what this fully entails. Consider yourself lucky that all you have to do is turn your head and cough..you big babies.) And what better way to start off the day by waking up LATE. Super duper late. And I had to take a shower (can't go to the doctor for THAT and not take a shower..gross), and in my haste, I forgot something very important. And I didn't realize it until it was too late.

Underpants.

Yes. I forgot to wear underwear. I take my little cup to the bathroom, drop trou, and shriek..apparently loud enough for the nurse to come to the door and ask if there was something wrong.

No--just the fact that I'm an idiot. Again. You think I would be used to it by now. Sadly, that's not the case.

So I go in, have my exam (Yikes! let's throw something new into the equation, shall we? It was uncomfortable. Like the back seat of a Volkswagen...), get my blood work drawn (oh--did I mention like the 12+ hours of fasting that have gone on at this point? I think this may, in fact, be the reason I spent most of my Saturday on the couch with the energy level of a human slug--and I still need to get VRQ's one year b-day gift to him...Colleene and I will have to set up a "play date" of our own!), do some shopping, get scripts filled (Of course I had to go back and pick up one at a later date...insurance said that I "didn't need" it this soon. Jerks.), and had every intention of getting my driver's license (woo-hoo! hold on kids! what a wild ride!), but a migraine snuck up on me and I was outta commission until almost 2 pm..when I had to go be made pretty :)

The fact that it took three hours--well, I will try not to read too much into that right now. Especially with the giant zit that popped up on Saturday that makes me look like a mutant. Sooooo sexxxyyy....mmmmhmmmm. Now it would probably take all damn day to make me presentable. (So much for that magic clear skin wand....and really-that would have been an awesome gift. Are you listening universe?)

So Friday night, I think we are all going to dinner out and about..but we have to pick Beth up at her sister's house (big thanks to Erin and Jeff for letting us invade!). Amy and Brittany pick me up, we go up the walk, and I see a living room full of people!

Stupid me--still not catching on--"Everyone is here! I guess we are leaving for dinner from here?" I think if Amy hadn't been carrying a big ass box of wine (not a box with a spicket...but a box full of 12 BOTTLES of wine), she might of bopped me on the head. Silly girl. Apparently, I had been tricked all along. Crafty people....I had no idea.

Needless to say, it was a good time--getting to see some people I hadn't seen in a while, catching up, nibbling on good food (um Heather--that stuff you made was AWESOME), having a few drinks..and then we went out for some more fun.

Saturday was dinner with the family--Sunday was dinner with Beth--and Monday was (sadly) back to work as usual.

And now TODAY I get to do battle with the BMV....I think I have everything I need to prove that I'm not some other short woman impersonating me, living at my house, and going to my job every day.

Wait. Do you think I could find someone to do that?

Bring it on children....Bring. It. On.

So it's back to school week.

Hooray.

Which means work will be kicking my arse this week. Oh well--that's life. My laptop is still dead, but the rents came through. Since Mom is on hiatus from school this semester because of her big time promotion at the hospital, I get to use a computer that doesn't weigh 13 lbs (yes, my HP weighs 13 giant pounds!). I'm thinking that perhaps it is time to get a new computer. I've had the old one since..hmm...um. Well, 2003? Yea. Methinks it's time.

So now I'm taking a break from working on a big project (because I've hit a brick wall and if I look at the screen for any longer, I swear to god my retinas are going to pop off my eyes). Maybe it's time for a cocktail. Yes. I think it is. Maybe that will make things go better? Probably not, but oh well.

And to cap things off, why oh why did I agree to work this Saturday? Money is always nice, but I have a feeling I may be a tired girl. At least I don't have to be in until 11:30. Thank god for small favors.

But I did get one thing marked off my "to do" list this week. Two, actually. I got my six care package things for Haiti made and started my b-day shopping for Colleene's little boy. I was at the bookstore at Butler tonight, and something super cute caught my eye. Got to indoctrinate that child early..so he knows what's what : )

Too bad shopping for me isn't so easy. I looked for like three hours on Friday and found NADA. Just perfume and some Boing concealer (LOVE IT!) from Sephora. Everything I tried on looked fantastic...from the waist down. I finally got so fed up at Macy's I asked the sales woman for some advice.

And you know what I got?

I was told that maybe I needed to look into something "You know--spandexy".

I'm sorry, what? Like something that Marey Carey would wear? Is that you were implying? Awesome. That's the freaking best you've got? When you are paid on commission even? I cannot be the only woman in the world with bigger than normal breasts who wants to buy a damn dress! So the search goes on.

Hopefully not in vain.

Damnit.

Having one of THOSE days..

You know. That day that sneaks up on you.

That day that your job makes you want to kill yourself. Or at least pound your head so hard against the wall the blessed unconsciousness comes and takes you away for a few hours. Days if you are lucky. Really lucky.

Today is that day...oh boy is it ever.

Not people...but processes. All I want to do is order some god damned barcharts! I had no idea that it would 1) take a month and half to get this done 2) that there were complex crazy algorithms used to determine what you "really" need 3)That even though I am here day in and day out busting my ass...I'm clearly incompetent and should not be allowed to make such a decision that would actually benefit sales--you know those things that pay the salaries of those people who sit up cubicles all day long and determine what I "need" and 4)IT WOULD DRIVE ME UP THE EFFING WALL WITH DEEP HATRED FOR THIS WOMAN THAT IS 300 MILES AWAY EVEN THOUGH I HAD NOT A CLUE AS TO WHO SHE WAS OR HOW MUCH POWER SHE HAD OVER ME UNTIL TODAY. arrrggh!

No really. I am about to send one last e-mail that says "You know--I'm sorry for asking you to do your job. Let's just forget it and you can sit in your cubicle and pretend to be busy with "work" while secretly adding to your collection of troll dolls on e-bay." I'm not a sucker--I know what goes in corporate America. And I'm totally not basing my opinions of said culture on Office Space, which is really more like true than people want to imagine in the first place, but on first hand experience of being in these places.

I'm just pissed. What's next? Being told when I can and cannot leave to use the bathroom? Will I have to raise my hand and wait via teleconference to get the okay...you know, from someone who knows more than I do about what's going on in my own body. Obviously someone should know these things-and clearly I cannot be trusted.

Oh...I've been a slacker--and on the hunt....

...so let's see. Last time I wrote was before Christmas.

Hmm. Lots of stuff has happened in the in-between.

Like I'm still a dumb girl when it comes to a lot of things. Very. Dumb.

Oh well. C'est la vie.

And apparently it is my lot in life to never, ever, ever, ever learn my lesson. I am quickly morphing into a hybrid of female fictional characters that I used to feel sorry for...and it's a bit unnerving. Bad habits abound these days, but oh well. You only live once, so you might as well enjoy things as they come : )

Moving on...

It is soon to be my birthday. And I have been informed by the powers that be that I should be on the hunt for a dress...but not just any dress.

Something short--and with killer heels to go along with it. (And if you are going to have cute shoes and a make 'em wish they were remotely lucky enough to be going home with you dress--you might as well get a fun bag, too, right? Right.)So as of this weekend, I will be on the hunt for said dress. I have these perfect purple suede platform booties that I also need to find something to wear with....and if anyone says "leggings!", I reserve the right to have you killed. There ain't no way in hell I will parade around in public in leggings. Even if I have lost 14 pounds since Christmas. (See? Sometimes miracles do happen!) My ass, thank god, did not shrink away. Hooray!!

The best part of the last week? Doing my taxes! February 5th makes me a broad with cash monies..I'll be rolling in it. Until my student loan payment goes through. But I can dream, can't I? Just got to make it until June....bonus time. And then, dear buddies, this girl is going on V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N. Preferably someplace warm, with a beach, and boys named Javier fetching me drinks. Ah....that sounds muy perfecto!

Ski Day! (Or: You can teach this girl new tricks)

So today was the day.

A day I would never have thought coming.

If you know me--you know I have an irrational fear of heights, elevators (I don't care if it's 26 stories to the top...if there are stairs, I will most likely be on them), and falling.

So if you had told me even three weeks ago that on December 20th, my ass would be in a ski lift--I would have suggested you go get medicated.

Oh how times have changed. I am a person who does enjoy learning and doing new things. Even if that psychic at Connor Prairie told me that I tend to be a "stick in the mud" (this is not fair..everyone has slow periods and if I choose to stay home and revisit my copy of On Royal and Papal Power or A Woman Named Jackie, that is my business), I find myself, as of late, shocking myself with the things I am taking on.

First with the skiing.

We get to Perfect North Slopes and there a good amount of people. We get our skis and boots (and away I go into the bathroom to put on my puffy pants--which thank god! I bought and wore...it would seem the black overalls were very popular. I was practically chic.) and we are off to our lesson. We took an hour with a very nice kid (17--drat) who taught us the basics. By the end of our lesson, Beth and I were feeling quite competent.

And this would lead to Rhea's Folly.

We go down the bunny slope 10 times or so...each time getting better and better and we start to think that "little" hill over there on the green lift doesn't look so bad. How wrong I was.

And no. I still loathe ski lifts. Dread them. Hate them. Petrified. There is nothing holding you in! And at one point they just STOPPED. I think I might have said "What the FUCK is going on!" a bit too loudly for a family place--but oh well. Some fears are hard to kill...and this one would mainly be the fear of my plummeting to my death from a tiny little swing.

The first time down the big hill was a fiasco. It didn't appear to be THAT high until I got up there. And then it seemed REALLY high and I might have had a small moment of "So.... this is how you are going to die? Well--at least it's interesting." I think it would have been better if I had just sat on my ass and scooted down. The second time was comical. To say I fell down is an understatement. I bit it. Hard. And at one point, no matter how hard I tried, I could not get up with out starting to slide freakishly fast in the backwards direction. I'm sure I looked the fool, but I was so frustrated that I started beating my skis with my poles while I was stuck on the ground. Reaching my breaking point (I believe at one point I wailed "All I want to do is stand up god dammit! Fuck these stupid skis! Assholes!!" Again--not the best vocabulary for kidlets--oh well. Curse words are like the wonderful little condiments of the English language..and I don't trust people who don't swear at some point. It's not natural.), I struggled to get the damn skis off my feet, snatched them up, and attempted to to go down the hill in my boots. This is the first time I hurt my knee. The second time I went down HARD and wrenched it, I literally heard something *pop*. My knee is now the size of a grapefruit--and I sit here with a bag of frozen blueberries on said knee hoping it will go down enough for me to be able to carry down my trash tomorrow morning.

But I survived--and Beth did really well! She is sure to impress her boyfriend on the slopes of Tahoe. Well, I would be impressed--but then again before today, I had never put on skis in my life. So maybe I am not the best judge...whatever. It's hard and she did great...and I didn't suck as bad as I thought I would, which is always a plus.

After skiing--we did the tubing thing. Again..mildly terrifying--but super fun. And really fast! We went down in tandem twice, which makes you go even faster.

Since I didn't die doing either one of these activities, and I now have the snow pants--I guess I'm up for such activities again. As long as you are okay with leaving me on the bunny hill and not mocking my squeal of terror while going down the massive hill while tubing, count me in--I'm game.

And now I am off to a hot bath to soak away the rest of my bumps and bruises.

Then it's back to the frozen veggie section in my freezer. Thank god I still have peas!

Surviving Hell Week, Moving on Wheels, and Snow Pants...(yes--Snow Pants)

So I made it.

Last week was that most wonderful point at the end of the semester where children sell their books back. If you aren't familiar with such a practice--consider yourself lucky. I think the lightest box I packed was around 60 pounds. And yes--I have to move these suckers. I guess I should count my blessings that I don't look like a Russian body builder or something.

Considering that I really had very high hopes of not going through yet another one of these god-awful-weeks from hell, well, I let myself get pretty pissed off at these kids. (Which means, my friends, it's REALLY time for me to find a new job.) If I had to hear from little Suzy Sunshine or Johnny Man on Campus how "I didn't even use this book...and I still passed." or "You don't have to really read this crap, why bother?" or better yet "The prof tells me everything I need to know to pass the tests...why should I do more work?" my head was going to explode. I'm sorry--higher education is NOT A RIGHT. I'm old school: if you can't appreciate the fact that someone is paying almost 100 K for you to go school-you do NOT deserve to be there. Go work at Dairy Queen until you can appreciate learning. I'm just so sick of people from the age of 16 to 25. Guess what? You aren't special, you aren't the best thing to ever happen on this planet, and your parents need to be beaten for creating monsters like you!

There. I'm done with that.

Now, here's a much better mental image for you: me doing laundry in my freaking skates. A girl has got to learn somehow, and why not in the house? The only thing that sucks is my hallway is rather short, so I'm doing a lot of stopping and starting. Oh! And a word of warning: Carpet = stopping. Stopping very fast, actually. What a thing to learn with arms full of folded clothing fresh from the dryer. I guess the good thing is that they, at the very least, padded my fall. The loverly bruise on my knee and on my lower rib cage? Well..they are finally fading to a delightful shade of putrid yellow. Nice. I'm beginning to think Amy and Brittany may be right: A helmet is probably a good idea. Even more funny was the fact that when I went to get my hair cut this morning, Anthony talked about sponsoring the Roller Derby teams in town and trying to learn to skate. I told him where I bought mine because he was having a hard time finding quad skates and I told him of my antics at trying to teach myself so far. After he stopped laughing, he said I should go talk to the girls, as they might need comic releif in the upcoming season.

Yeah..he's a funny guy, isn't he?

And since I am the clumsiest girl ever, of course it is a fantastic idea for me to go skiing tomorrow....

I'm sorry, just typing that made me laugh. Let's be honest here, Rhea will, in all probability, not be skiing. I will be falling. A lot. So there will be a veritable rainbow coloring my body in the near future. Of course, to go skiing, one needs pants. Snow pants.

Do you know how damn hard it is to find snow pants in this town? I finally found a pair of boys overall thingies in black at wal-mart (shudder....wal-mart mere days before christmas). So I've brought them home for the final test: Do they fit?

Oh. Dear. Jesus.

I look like an overcooked Stay Puff Marshmallow Man with breasts. But they fit. Put the the coat on....my new sensible water proof gloves...top it off with the hat...

And now I appear to be an overfed mental patient who has wandered free of the institution.

So much for looking like one of those cute little snow bunnies on the slopes. Since I can't ski--I had at least hoped to appear adorable enough for someone to stop and help me up when I inevitably fall on my ass.

Crap.

Can't I ever catch a break?