Tuesday, February 27, 2007
I was experiencing wardrobe malfunction at work today. I was wearing a knee-length black skirt with black tights and the skirt kept twisting around. It has always been too big for me (it was on sale and the only size left wasn't mine). But a deal is a deal, right? So, I kept struggling with my outfit and it was rather distracting. On the way home from work I ran a few errands. I caught a bus and went to Value Village and the grocery store. I decided to walk home and while I was walking I looked down and realized that I was no longer wearing my skirt! I wasn't a total exhibitionist as I was wearing my down-filled winter coat which almost reaches my knees. But the fact remained that my skirt was missing! I know that I was wearing it when I put my coat on when I left work. I can't imagine that I wouldn't have felt it falling to my ankles while I walked. So all that I can think is that it fell off on the bus, or (even sadder) I forgot to put it back on when I was trying on clothes at Value Village. Right now, I am imagining my sad black skirt hanging on a hook in one of those dreary dressing rooms. Hopefully someone in need of a black skirt will try it on and it will actually fit them.
I'm trying not to think about it. Actually it could have been much worse. I could have had an appointment and taken off my coat in a waiting room only to discover that I was only half-dressed. (And I wouldn't have looked like the woman in this picture).
I believe that there is a lesson to be learned here. I think that I should wear a belt more often...or suspenders. Or maybe I should buy clothes that fit me. I guess that five bucks for a skirt isn't such a great deal when you end up losing it:(
Monday, February 26, 2007
I had an appointment out of town today, so I travelled on the Greyhound. When I boarded the bus on the way home, a passenger frantically ran up to the driver and said "Do I have time for a quick smoke?" in a really raspy voice. The driver said "No, we are leaving now". To which she responded "Then where the hell is my husband?" Finally the husband boarded the bus with a bag of chips and pop in hand and loudly exclaimed "See what I have to do for my pregnant woman?!"
When we reached our final destination and I got off of the bus, I saw the husband and wife huddled together on the sidewalk. The woman shakily lit her cigarette, took a long drag and said "Man, I needed that effin' smoke!" It was then that I noticed her sweatshirt protruding (yes, her coat was wide open even though it was freezing out) as she was definitely great with child.
I can almost guarantee that the fine pair were from the Niagara Region, but oddly enough they spoke with a Southern drawl. I find that a lot in these here parts. Perhaps it is the native dialect of the Golden Horseshoe.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
So, here is my last "kid's song" (at least for now). I've had a special request from a cute little blue-eyed boy (who is just starting to eat solid food) for the song "Fergalicious", the kid's version. Here it is:
four, tres, two, uno
(Will I Am)
Listen up y'all, cuz this is it
This burp is so strong I'm gonna need a bib
Burpalicious definition bubble in my tummy
The louder that I burp it tells ya that my meal was yummy
You can hug me, you can squeeze me
Just tap me on my backie
If you're lucky I'll spit something out
Just like it's chewin' tobaccy
Burpalicious (so delicious)
That meal was nutritious
To the point of barfalicious
And that ain't fictitious
I blow kisses (mmmwwaahhh)
And then I hiccup, hiccup
And then there's room for more, so fill my bottle up!
So delicious (It's a gastronomic delight)
So delicious (Sometimes it even hurts)
So delicious (Hope you're not wearin' your favourite shirt)
I'm burpalicious (t-t-t-t-t-tasty, tasty!)
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Thanks to my last post, I've had a few requests for child-friendly translations of adult songs. So, the next song goes out to my gangsta nephew who also likes "I Like Big Butts" by Sir Mix-A-Lot. (I didn't think that kids listened to this kind of stuff, but then I remembered that I was first introduced to the French language in 1975 by Patti Labelle's song about a New Orleans hooker entitled "Lady Marmalade". Remember the line "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?").
I Like Big Trucks
Oh my gosh
Becky, look at his truck
It's so big
It looks like one of those toy Hummers
Who would want one of those?
My dad says that they use a lot of gas
And you can never find a parking space big enough
I mean his truck
It's so dirty
It looks like it's been in a mud puddle
And so do his hands
I mean, it's gross
Look, he probably never washes them.
I like big trucks and I cannot lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when you go to Toys R Us
You make a lot of fuss
When your parents just refuse to buy
You that truck
The Ford F-150 Street Beast RC
It runs on 9.6 Volt batteries
And the Monster Jam Monster Truck, yo!
They are both manufactured by Tyco
I also like the old-school toys
Like Matchbox and Hotwheels
I trade them with my boys
Yah I like to wheel and deal
Once I traded an Igor snack
For a Tonka Fire Rescue Pack
And that was a real sacrifice
'Cuz those Igor snacks are nice!
So Fellas (Yeah!) Fellas (Yeah!)
Do you got some junk in that trunk? (Heck, Yeah!)
Well, drive it, drive it, drive it, drive it, drive that big toy truck
Baby got truck!
While I wrote these lyrics, I realized that some children have difficulty saying the word "Truck". Maybe parents are better off to stick with Sir Mix-A-Lot's version of the song.
Stay tuned for my next post where I will change the song "Fergalicious" to "Burpalicious"!
Monday, February 19, 2007
I have just discovered that my two year old nephew loves the song "Sexy Back" by Justin Timberlake. I thought that the lyrics weren't suitable for a two year old, so I have changed them a bit so that he can sing along. My nephew has already changed the title to "Suzzy Back" :
I'm bringin' suzzy back (Yeah!)
I got some toys in my "Dora" back pack (Yeah!)
Give me yogurt and Mum-mums for my snack (Yeah!)
I like the movie "Cars" because it's whack (Yeah!)
Take 'em to my crib
I'm a babe
No, I'm a toddler
Sometimes I misbehave
But I mean no harm, baby, it's just my age
And I'll grow outta it, maybe, one day
Take 'em to the sandbox
Thomas the Tank Engine
Put the DVD on, will ya
Put the DVD on, will ya
Put the DVD on, will ya
Dora the Explorer
Put the DVD on, will ya
Ruby and Max
Put the DVD on, will ya
Put the DVD on, will ya
Throw on some Shrek
Put the DVD on, will ya
How's about some Ice Age
Put the DVD on, will ya
Anything but Caillou
(He's a little cry baby)
I'm bringin' suzzy back (Yeah!)
I think it's time for my mornin' nap (Yeah!)
Read me a story, come on make me laugh (Yeah!)
I'll be sleepin' mama, in a snap (Yeah!)
Take me to my toddler bed!
I've submitted these lyrics to Justin Timberlake's website. I am hoping to collaborate with him in the production of a children's cd. I would re-write all of the songs from his current cd and make them child-friendly. We will definitely need to work on the title. I am thinking "Futurepets/Lovehounds".
Saturday, February 17, 2007
My last post was completely fictitious, but the story that I am about to tell in this post is very strange, but true. On Thursday night I had an appointment in a part of town that I have never been to. After my appointment I went to the bus shelter to wait for a bus. There had been a heavy snowstorm the day before and there were piles of snow around the shelter and not one single footprint. I thought that this was odd but I decided to wait for the bus anyways. It was very cold outside and since I was standing in the snow, my boots got wet and my feet were freezing. I had decided to wait for an hour since buses run about once an hour. At one point, an old man walked past the shelter and I asked him if he thought the buses were still running. He said that he had no idea and continued to walk. After an hour I decided to call a cab. I went to a plaza that had a lobby. There was a pay phone but no telephone book. There was a fitness centre in the basement so I went there to find a phone book. Sure enough, the man that I had talked to at the bus shelter was sitting in a chair in the fitness centre. He said "So I guess that the bus never came?" and I said "No". He responded "Well, if you want to wait a bit my friends can give you a ride, as long as you don't mind that they have been drinking". I said "Yes, I mind" (not that I would have taken the ride if they were sober). His friends arrived with bottles of rye, vodka and gin. I said "What kind of a gym is this anyways?" They seemed uncomfortable and one of them uttered "A private gym". I will also add that there were signs posted that said "Spa" and "Massage".hmmm.
I waited in the lobby for my taxi and when it arrived there was a boy who looked about twelve years old behind the wheel. I was in shock and blurted out "How old are you? Are you old enough to drive?" He coyly said "How old are you?" He told me he was 22. I laughed nervously as I was sure that this was some kind of a joke. He then said "Okay, I'll be honest with you. My babysitter was in the shower with her boyfriend and I took her car". I laughed again and then just looked ahead thinking "Oh well. This is better than waiting in the cold for a bus and he is a pretty good driver". He told me that his girlfriend was 30 and he had just been cast in a commercial to play the role of a fifteen year old. He was beautiful with piercing blue eyes, sugar blond spiky hair and a clean shaven (or never shaven) face. But he still had the appearance of a twelve year old. He told me that I had hurt his feelings when I had laughed about his age. I apologized (I still feel bad about it). At the end of my ride he asked "So, how did I drive for not having my license?" I laughed nervously once again and was glad to be home.
I slept soundly and do not remember any of my dreams. My dreams probably weren't very memorable as they could not surpass the bizarre events of the day. When I awoke, my cat Sista Soldia was snuggled against me as usual. I groggily looked at the pillow beside me as there seemed to be some sort of object resting on it. I focused and realized that it was a piece of cat poo! The worst part of this story is that I was so tired that I just rolled over and slept for another half hour.
The poo is long gone and the pillow case and pillow have been washed, but I am still wondering what would possess one of my feline friends to do such a thing? All that I can remember is that Sista Soldia was sitting on my lap the night that I composed the post about the gold cat necklace. I guess that she didn't like my post:(
Thursday, February 15, 2007
So, yesterday was Valentine's Day. I went to Ivan's for dinner and I was in a great mood! After dinner we exchanged gifts. Now, in my last post, when I brought up the topic of our impending gift exchange, I was going to write "I just hope that he didn't get me anything with cats on it". Now, I love cats. They make wonderful pets and I have a small collection of real cats. But, just because I like cats, that doesn't mean that I need to surround myself with "cat things". I do have other interests, you know.
When Ivan handed me the gift-wrapped box, my heart raced. I knew that it must be jewellery because of the weight and size. I opened it and was nearly blinded by all of the golden hideousness! (and just in case you were wondering, the bell actually rings! So, not only do I look like an idiot when I wear this thing, I sound like an idiot too). Ivan, I am sorry if you are reading this, but, really...do you know me at all? Have you ever seen me wear gold? What outfit did you think this necklace would match with? Maybe a sweatshirt that has a cat on it with sequins for eyes? I don't have a sweatshirt like that now but I am sure that you will buy me one for my birthday!
I'm sorry. I know that I'm being nasty. It is the thought that counts, right? But I'm still wondering....what the *&@# was he thinking?
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
So, it is the night before Valentine's Day and, well, that's not such a big deal. But it does feel like Christmas Eve because it is snowing out (which it didn't do this past Christmas). We were talking about the impending storm at work today and I said that businesses such as restaurants and theatres would suffer if there was inclement weather on Valentine's Day. My coworker responded "Well, that's okay, people will just stay in and cuddle". So, I said "Yah and a lot of babies will be born in November of 2007". That seems to be the trend after a power outage or seasonal storm. What's up with that? If people have to think about wearing snow boots or a raincoat, they forget to think about other kinds of "protection"?
Okay, I really don't know where I am going with this blog. I wanted to post about Valentine's Day and I found this cool clip art so I will just try to keep with the theme. Today I went to the dollar store by my work and when I was leaving, the owner said "Happy Valentine's Day tomorrow!" That was a bit odd because firstly, I have never heard people wish other people a "Happy Valentine's Day" and secondly, I have never heard people wish people a "Happy Valentine's Day" the day before. I guess that he assumed that I might have a special someone because I purchased razors and deodorant. But what if I didn't? What if that greeting was enough to put me over the edge? Then I thought that it would have been funny if I had turned to him and said "What's so happy about it? You know, I had completely forgotten that it was Valentine's Day tomorrow and then you had to go and remind me about how lonely I am! You know what? You are probably the only person that will wish me a 'Happy Valentine's Day'. Do you want to know what my plans are for tomorrow night? I'm going to have a bath, shave my legs and listen to ABBA records with my ten cats. That's what I am going to do. Oh, and the deodorant? Today my boss took me aside and discreetly informed me that there have been a few 'complaints' around the office. Yah. And I had to come to a dollar store to make my purchases because I spent the last of my pay cheque on canned cat food and celebrity gossip magazines". I guess that wouldn't be very funny, but that is how my imagination works.
While on the topic of dysfunctional Valentines, if you get a chance, check out www.postsecret.com. There are some pretty twisted postcards on this week's installment. I'm excited about my Valentine's Day plans. Ivan said that he knows that I will like my present because he doesn't like it...hmmm...I'm not sure what that means, but I'll keep you posted.
Monday, February 12, 2007
I always get excited about a deal. The other day, I was telling a dear friend of mine about a sale on Ivory Soap at Shopper's Drug Mart. It is only 99 cents for a three-bar pack! I bought the lavender scented Ivory and it's very nice. After I told my friend about my purchase, he suddenly looked very sullen, shook his head and said "But those poor elephants" and walked into the other room with his head down. I was confused, as the first image that popped into my head was of a scientist on a ladder, putting drops of Ivory soap in an elephant's eye to test for sensitivity. That didn't make sense. Wouldn't it be easier to use rabbits, or better yet, humans?
But then I understood the joke and the connection between "ivory" and "elephants". I thought it was the cutest thing eva! I asked my friend if he made it up himself and he claims that he did (and no, he's not 80 years old!).
Friends are nice, especially friends that bring the funny! Okay, I've got to go watch "The Lawrence Welk" show, now.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
I went to see the movie "Smokin' Aces" and I think that it should be called "Exploding Hearts". I didn't have any expectations when I went to see the movie. I wasn't familiar with the plot line and I hadn't read any reviews. So I really wasn't prepared for the graphic violence. I spent most of the movie crouched down in my seat and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. When the movie was over I told Ivan that I felt really anxious and I had a pain in my chest. He then pointed out to me that that is why some rides at amusement parks have warnings that people with heart conditions shouldn't participate in them. I don't have a heart condition, but do believe that I was experiencing the after-effects of a pretty scary ride. I cannot stomach the sight of blood and while watching this movie I thought that I was going to regurgitate my $7.00 hot dog. While the characters were shot and stabbed I could hear the teenagers behind me saying "Cool" and "Awesome". It was a bit disturbing. Maybe I am a weak person as I get lost in the realism of such films but I cannot view it as simple comic book violence and I worry that people are growing desensitized to violence through movie murders.
But, there were some stellar performances in this film. Jason Bateman was hilarious as a fumbling lawyer with angry-looking cold sores and a fetish for women's lingerie and mascot heads. Jeremy Piven's character "Buddy Israel" would be the perfect poster boy for an anti-drug campaign. Alicia Keyes seemed quite comfortable in front of the camera in her first acting role as a no-nonsense hit woman. There were also some very unique characters in this film. In one scene, a killer has a conversation with his victim by moving the corpse's mouth with his hand. In the conversation, the killer acts as a ventriloquist and seeks forgiveness for his crime. This scene is delivered with dark humour, but it is still quite disturbing. Another interesting character is a 10 year old boy who has very thick glasses and a bandage over his one eye. He is obsessed with martial arts and numchucks. He lives with his grandmother because his mother abandon him and his father is in prison.
"Smokin' Aces" was an interesting movie. It was visually stimulating (at least the scenes that I didn't have to look away from) and action packed. It also had an intricate story line that had to be explained to me later. I will not discuss it here as that would give away the movie. As I left the theatre, I believe that I suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. I went to Seven Eleven because I had recovered from my "movie theatre hot dog nausea" and was craving a Taquito (they have a deal where one Taquito is $1.39, but if you buy two it is only $2.49! Ivan always argues with me that you aren't saving money if you buy two, because it is still cheaper to buy one. He should just keep his opinions to himself because he always benefits from this "deal" as I always give him the second Taquito!) Anyways, I went to Seven Eleven and I was making my purchase and I suddenly had this fear that somebody was going to walk into the store and open fire. I began to sweat and my heart was racing and the kid behind the register couldn't ring in my sale fast enough. But as I felt those warm Taquitos in my hands, I began to feel better.
When I got home, I had a Taquito and some "Sweet Chili Heat" flavoured Doritos. All of that stress dissipated. I am growing concerned that I am beginning to use food as a source of comfort. Right now I am having a glass of milk and some Chips Ahoy cookies. At "No Frills" this week, a family pack of Chips Ahoy is only $1.97! That's a lot of cookies for a single gal. That's why I eat them twice a day. Three as an afternoon snack and three as a bedtime snack. (I have to eat them before they expire!) I've had my last cookie and now it is bedtime.
Good night and sweet (violence-free) dreams!
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Wow! Thank you for all of your comments. I just wanted to let "Flowerchild" know that I think about you every time that I write a blog. I imagine you reading it as the sun rises and everyone else is still asleep. It warms my heart to know that I make you smile:)
A few people at my work have joined a Fitness Challenge. Every day I hear them talk about their "work outs" while they crunch on raw vegetables at their desks. You would think that their motivation and drive would inspire me to improve my lifestyle. It has actually had the opposite effect and I have begun to rebel a bit. For example, today a coworker brought Tim Hortons donuts to the office. While every one sighed and awkwardly walked past them like they were steaming piles of cow dung, I ate two in a row! Yes, I have been eating like a pig and I also accept rides home whenever they are offered to me. In the past I would say "That's okay, I like to walk". This is what I ate today:
Three Oreo Cookies
Two Tim Hortons Donuts
(I had a free coupon for a lunch buffet so I had a bit of everything!)
Beef Stir Fry
Penne with Beef
Maple Glazed Chicken Thighs
Half of a Mammoth Sized Brownie
Flavoured Coffee (Half English Toffee and Half French Vanilla)
I am not sure of what I will have for dinner, but I was thinking about frying up some bacon and eating the rest of that brownie. I know, this is just wrong! And the funny thing is, today I was complaining about having a huge headache (probably because all that I have eaten today is sugar!). I waited until 1:30pm to have lunch because I was still full from my "breakfast". When I complained to my coworkers about my headache they said "That's because you have waited so long to have lunch. You need to eat!" And I agreed. I wasn't about to remind them about the two donuts that I ate earlier. It's not like I had hid them or anything. I ate them in plain view, at my desk.
You know, a little extra insulation isn't a bad thing at this time of year. I need it for my walks to and from work (even though I usually get a ride home). Today, a woman at work was complaining that whenever she gains weight it goes right to her boobs. I think that is what inspired me to eat that second donut. The voice in my head was saying "Bring it on, Sista! Bring it on!"
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Yes, it is ridiculously cold outside. Today, on the walk home from work, I was so cold that I think that I stopped breathing and I began to think really strange things (extreme cold has the same effect on my mind as extreme heat). I can't really remember what I was thinking about, but I know that I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. I think it is a natural reaction to hold one's breath when it is really cold. I'll have to look into that. And believe me, I dress for the weather; faux fur lined boots, down coat, scarf, hat and thinsulate gloves. It is not very fashionable attire and if I were to go missing, the description of what I was last seen wearing would make people wonder if I had just wandered away from "a home". But I learned long ago that it is more important to feel warm than to look hot! (Get it? Hot?)
So, my apartment is a little cozier today. After some phone calls to friends, I was given the "low down" on rad bleeding. Also, the maintenance man came today to patch up my ceiling. He will be returning to put on another layer of plaster and paint but at least the wood is no longer exposed and the light fixture is working. I gave everything a good cleaning and it is livable for now. This morning I forgot to take all of my toiletries off of the shelves in preparation for the repair. Before I left for work, the maintenance man was carefully moving everything onto the kitchen table. At one point I looked over and he was carrying a couple of boxes of feminine hygiene products like they were bombs that were about to explode. You would think that I would be embarrassed about that, but I just thought it was funny. He seemed like a dad and/or husband so I am sure that it isn't anything that he hasn't seen before. The cats were checking him out and he was asking me what their names were and if they were allowed to go outside. So, I went to work leaving a strange man in my apartment, but I felt confident that everyone and everything would be fine.
My imagination tends to be quite colourful, so at certain points throughout the day, I would have visions of the maintenance man trying on some of my outfits. Or playing my "Guess Who" album and drinking Kahlua while slow-dancing with the cats to "These Eyes". Or making long distance calls on my phone. All of these things are possible, but not likely.
Maybe I am a bit naive. Sometimes I trust strangers more than I should. About three years ago, I would walk a relatively isolated nature path on my way to and from work. It was basically a half hour walk in the woods. When I told my sister about it she responded with "Hey, why don't you just wear a t-shirt that says 'Please Kill Me'?" My sister is pretty funny. Luckily, I never did encounter any dangerous situations on that path. But if I had gone missing, wouldn't it be funny if the description of what I was last seen wearing included a "Please Kill Me" t-shirt? Okay, maybe not funny...but ironic? (I never know if I am using the word "ironic" in the correct context. Speaking of irony, did you know that Alanis Morrisette misuses the word "Ironic" in her song with the same title? The situations that are presented in that song cannot be defined as ironic).
Whatever! This blog is sooooo done. Good night and keep warm (and safe)!
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
It never fails. I hardly ever leave my apartment for more than one day and on the rare occasion that I do, the whole place falls apart...or at least the bathroom did. I came home from work yesterday (I hadn't been home for two days) only to find bits of plaster on the kitchen floor. I then looked in the bathroom and found a soggy sheet of drywall on the floor and an exposed ceiling. It turns out that my neighbour above me had a flood in her washroom on Saturday night (the tank broke on her toilet). This flood caused my ceiling to cave in. I tried to clean it the best that I could. A neighbour helped me carry the drywall out. I swept up bits of plaster and cleaned the toilet, sink and tub with bleach, but that room is still freaking me out! My light fixture doesn't work, but the electrical outlet does, so I am doing everything by lamp light. Luckily most of my toiletries were packed from the weekend, because everything that was left in the washroom has nasty brown water spots on it (everyone has assured me that this isn't sewage, but simply water that has been discoloured by the wood). The maintenance man for my apartment building came by last night to assess the damage. He told me that he would be back today while I was at work, but I came home tonight to find everything as I left it. There was a note in the hallway that said "Work done on boiler today. You may have to bleed your rads". What the hell does that mean? Do I need a special tool for that? The only contact number that I have for the maintenance guy is a daytime number so I have no choice but to live in squalor for another night. My apartment has a musty smell. Even the ceiling in my kitchen cupboard is starting to come down. I feel like I should give everything a good scrubbing, but then I think, why bother? It is going to be torn apart again when the old drywall is ripped out and the new drywall is installed.
Everyone is asking me if the cats were freaked out. Well, I wasn't here to witness their reaction to the ceiling dropping, but I do notice that whenever they hear a noise, they anxiously look up like they are expecting the sky to fall.
Maybe I'll go take a nap. I tend to do that when I am overwhelmed by a situation. One time I was making eggs for dinner and I cracked open a shell and the whole yolk fell onto the stove element. Most people would clean it up, but I reacted by shutting off the stove, setting the frying pan aside and taking a nap. I think that the mess was ten times harder to clean after 24 hours but I chose the nap so that was the price that I was willing to pay. I remember telling my sister that story after she had had a busy day as a working mom. She was disgusted by my sloth-like behaviour, but I think that she secretly envied me as well.
I think that I will look into the whole "rad bleeding" thing. My apartment is freezing and it is making me want to go pee, but I don't want to go in that room.
Today I thought about the "last man on earth" again. I am convinced that he will be some sort of handyman. I've been spending lots of time with those sorts lately.
Monday, February 5, 2007
Ivan says that he doesn't dream. Or, at least he can't remember his dreams. So, when he told me that he had a dream about me, I was quite excited! I wondered what it was about...Maybe he dreamt that we hadn't seen each other in a long time and we were running towards each other (in slow motion) across a field of daisies. Or maybe he dreamt that I looked like the girl in this picture. (Okay, I kind of do, but I don't fill out a tank top quite like that;)
No, Ivan's dream wasn't very romantic. This is his dream. He dreamt that he went into the washroom to take a shower only to discover that I had puked in the tub and hadn't cleaned it up! Nice, eh? And the strangest part about the dream is that he remembers feeling stressed out because he couldn't prove that I had done it (even though I was the only other person in the house). And he didn't want to accuse me of it because he thought it would hurt my feelings. I guess that's kind of sweet...
I was about to go all "dream analytical" on him, but then he reminded me that it was my fault that he dreamt it. I had forgotten that weeks earlier he had asked me if everything was okay because I had been in the washroom for a long time. I told him that I was puking in the tub. I really wasn't, I just thought it would be a funny thing to say. (I didn't want to tell him that I was busy checking my head for lice! Yes, I still have a lice phobia).
I guess that you were probably expecting a romantic, perhaps even sensual blog. I'm sorry but I'm not that kind of gal. And stuff like that makes me want to puke...in a tub!! Ha ha! I'm soooo funnnay!
Friday, February 2, 2007
I just had a very hot bath. The kind of hot where you are sweating so badly by the end of the bath, that you need to take a shower. The kind of hot where I am wondering if I should be calling Telehealth. The kind of hot where you start thinking about strange things...such as this:
Joe Pesci was voted "the unsexiest man alive" one year. I was thinking about this and how he must have felt to hear the news. Then I started thinking about the last man on earth. It was then that I realized that I think about the last man on earth quite often. You see, when I go about my daily travels, I find that undesirable men are not afraid to compliment and speak to women that they don't know. I guess that they feel that they have nothing to lose. I am flattered by such compliments, even if the man is visually impaired or drunk at noon. And for a fleeting moment I ask myself "if he were the last man on earth? Hmm...Naahh!!" There are also men that I know and see almost every day. I find myself thinking the same thing about them. These thoughts fill me with despair. And now I am convinced that it is my fate to find myself in that situation...all alone with the last man on earth. This is very similar to my fear of having to wear adult diapers prematurely because I used to laugh at the Depends commercials when I was a kid.
Then I started to think about the health conditions that I have had and willed away. When I was a child, I had head lice. I knew that I had it and I didn't want anyone to know. I remember that I would look out of the classroom window every day and dread the sight of the white Public Health van. Well, one day the van arrived and I prayed that the nurse wouldn't discover that I had lice. Sure enough, she looked through my hair and I passed the test. Okay, maybe the nurse wasn't very bright. But I did go home and tell my mom and she bought the "exterminator" shampoo and then I really didn't have head lice...There was another time that I had a very bad planter's wart on the bottom of my foot. My doctor referred me to a dermatologist for liquid nitrogen treatments. I was told that I would need about five treatments. I walked into the office and realized that my ex-boyfriend's girlfriend was the receptionist. I winced through the first treatment and promised myself that I would never return. The wart vanished within a week.
Then, as I got out of the tub and admired my glowing red skin in the mirror, my thoughts came full circle. I thought "Sista, get over yourself! You are probably 'the last woman on earth" to some men". My conscience can be pretty mean sometimes.
p.s. If I had to choose between Joe Pesci and the plumber, I would choose Joe Pesci. At least he has cute dimples. The only dimples that I have seen on the plumber are on his ass! (sorry for the swear word)