Friday, April 30, 2010

MiraLax

What did you do on this beautiful, Spring afternoon?

Oh me? (answered a totally hypothetical individual) Well, I purchased some MiraLax. Just a typical day. MiraLax is a laxative for those of you that aren't in the know...and/or don't have bowel issues.

After a week of stomach problems, this is what it has come to. Shoulder to shoulder with other elderly women in Isle seven of Rite aid. All generously throw out smiles. I mean really, without a good BM in your life, a smile from a stranger goes a long way...I'd imagine.


It's amazing how much attention one will give to creating an environment for this natural (yet sometimes supplementally simulated) action to occur. Some even stay home from their occupations, on Friday afternoons? Like text messages are sent...

"Yea I can come over in about an hour. Gotta pick up the laundry, run a quick errand and wait for this laxative to do its thang."

(This sort of message should clearly be sent out in the form of a "bulk text" to all the eligible bachelors in ones phone) There's a lot more where that came from...meaning the pure gold dating advice-duh.


In the interest of true professionalism, the real bound-up-broad inspiring this post will remain anonymous.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Fart Week 2010

It is actually Earth Week 2010, dually note.

I haven't been writing (a catastrophe for us all) due to the utter chaos going on this week. It's difficult to recap all of the "note worthy" situations, maybe because of the Vicodin I've recently ingested?

This week I've been driving (more honestly, I've been speeding) back and forth between school... and the bar. Obviously closely related professions. Yes, I have returned to the world of sailors and fishermen, and their cackling wives duh. The most convenient part of balancing these two acts this week was having to taste all the new varietals on the wine list right before heading back for a meeting vital to keeping our educational institution accredited in the state of California. Always willing to be versatile.

There is a method to my madness...not just attempting to give myself an ulcer, more like a gallbladder issue actually. The method is this: If I want to pay off my arch enemies Mr. Express and Platinum Visa, I'll need to be mixin drinks like a BOSS this summer. The way to get decent shifts, get me on that schedule now before the beloved season starts! See how that works? Forward thinking can be a beautiful thing, so I've been told.

After the madness of the week long training sesh, paired with my "real" job (differentiating my teaching job from the club job in this way leads my yachty coworkers to believe I am a snob. Weird) I found myself at an all time low as far as the immune system is concerned. Running to the mall, right up there with the enemies listed above, to purchase navy blue pants and a new black belt for the uni did not help on Friday at 4:00, before the 5:00 back-after-5-months-shift.

Long story short, Sunday ended with an ER and me thanking Nurse Nancy for the glorious pain meds and her British accent. As of today, I've been told by three physicians that there is something wrong with my Gallbladder, causing my horrendous stomach pain. I'll know more after an ultrasound tomorrow morning, which I realized announcing to the new boo, in a public place, leads others to believe I am...no not a snob... knocked up! Oh misunderstandings, you are fun.

A perfect wrap up to a week that started off with what I read as "Fart Day 2010" (a minor poster malfunction). A sixth grade boy found my "I don't think I'll be a part of that DAY" statement amusing. Cheap laughs. Always worth while.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Why oh why...

is it so hard to come back to work after Spring Break?!?!

I know I have no right (or every right I haven't decided) to complain, since most adults don't get what us old schoolers call "Easter Break" past college.

However, I will tell you what I tell my roommate and everyone else who loathes me for having a coveted schedule...

Well, then why don't YOU go get your credential (by taking 38 tests and another ridiculous number of classes that don't do anything for your teaching skills except make you more patient), then you can have lack of job security and a less than average pay...and get a Spring Break.

I did mention I LOVE my job right?

I like to start out the first-morning-back by looking through my planner, flipping pages, writing things down, basically planning to do things...instead of actually doing things. Seems productive.

What have I accomplished? Duh. I've written three very necessary emails, responded to a planner-related facebook message (you'd think I was type A with all this planner shenanigans), sent out a friend-in-town related text (someones gotta coordinate all these fantastic women), attempted to better my career for next year (huh?), posted a blog (gotta keep up with the digital world) and gone to the bathroom twice.

Happy Monday Readers!

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Soccer Practice


I'm sure that since you're all such loyal and frequent readers (insert corny wink here) you've already read about my hatred for soccer previously.


In this post, I'll try not to get into all the loathe-worthy characteristics about the sport. Things like having to pretend you want the ball when really you couldn't care any less about it (Picture a game right now...Everyone screaming, "I'm open I'm open! Pass it!" Getting excited when the ball last hits the other team member's foot, leaving lucky us to get the ball and throw it back onto the field!) I also won't talk about how in every other situation in life we dodge a ball flying at our head, and in soccer we hope for it and use it as a strategy...what?!


The reason I bring up the ridiculous sport today is because of how useful I realize it can be...at getting you out of trouble, and even making you sound legit. I take no credit for this discovery and in fact want to give all the credit (where credit is due) to the most hilarious female I've ever met, Lani, who although she won't admit it, now goes by "Little Nugget." Lani's got it down. This intellectual figured out that the best excuse EVER is soccer. Her apology for being late? "Sorry, I was at soccer practice." Her reason for being tired? "Man, I had an intense soccer practice last night." Feel free to add any other reasons you need...

Being the girl whose hair is always a wreck (hypothetical obviously)? "Gosh my pony is just crazy from yesterday's braids at my soccer game." Want to get out of something? "If I don't leave right now and get to the field, Coach is gonna kill me!"


My personal favorite from the Nug, "I'm gonna need that over-sized Marc Jacob bag to fit my soccer ball in."


Do I still despise this ultimate team building sport? Yes. Do I finally see a purpose for it? Also Yes.