Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
After 2 1/2 teaspoons of NyQuil (directions say 2 but I figure I should make it worth my while) I was nestled in my bed, enjoying my recently dry-cleaned duvet like any lady would. Given the circumstances, I planned on upwards of 8 glorious hours of sleep. I'm a firm believer in a 1 to 1 ratio as far as sleep and work time are concerned.
Around 3:15 this morning an unusual (unless you live in my awesome apartment building) scene woke me...and it was a scene. Somebody was putting on quite a show, and the soundtrack was unlike one I have ever heard...especially directly above my head. While I did NOT care to entertain any thoughts or visions of what was occurring a vinyl floor away, the 5-7 silent minutes between sessions, did lead me to conclude a few things:
- My upstairs neighbor apparently moonlights as a porn star
- No matter what situation I'm in (or situation I'm forced to be in) I cannot escape Adelle's "Someone like You." Yes that's right, the latest hit was played at its peak volume during what I'm assuming was another peak of sorts.
- Dogs have a keen sense of hearing...and respond to human howling, with more howling
- I am willing to get out of bed, take out my retainer (whatever, my teeth are still straight), put on clothes, and storm up a flight of stairs to pound on a door and yell at a stranger, if bothered enough.
On my way to work I took my note (which was actually purple stationary with a cat on the right bottom corner, neither here nor there), taped it to the door, and since I assumed they were finally asleep....banged on the door as loud as I could! And ran to my car, to speed away.My boldness from the twilight had passed, and now my left-over rage left me to nothing else but a Ding-dong ditch, OB style...we don't have door bells.
Angry note/DDD sent the message I was hoping for. The Star came down (to speak with my roommate who unfortunately was still home and getting ready) and fell all over herself apologizing. There was some excuse about "getting drunk and letting loose" (no fricken kidding) and then she cried.
I think I made my point.
And like my angry note said...
"Have a little respect" -Downstairs
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
How the constant running around happens without the morning coffee a normal human is allowed to indulge in, I'm not sure. Being a struggler like myself means that coffee (delicious decaf nonfat lattes excluded), too much red wine, and chocolate...bring on migraines. Some sort of sick joke I know. There are females who make entire meals out of these three decadent treats! Gimme a frigen break.
The amount of running around town that goes on in a given week is just too much, especially given how I feel about having to pump gas, I'm confident you see the connection there ;)
Wednesday is similar, another dinner, this one with the man, whom I try sometimes harder than others to protect from all the feeling talk...my Google calendar isn't the only thing I'm willing to share...poor soldier.
The rest of the week is downhill, with a Body Pump Group X to keep me motivated. If I can lift this barbell while listening to Pink I just know I can make it to Friday.
When did my days become picking up prescriptions at Walgreens and grocerie shopping?
Living for the weekend these days...
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
When us pale kids become really, really "Rosy"...like not in a cute "blushed" way, but in an almost purple way, you can rest assure from this day forward, that we KNOW about it before YOU tell us. You don't have to tell us. I mean, you can't possibly think we don't notice we have turned from white to crimson in a matter of seconds.
I personally have the following harsh rebuttal prepared for just the right day when my beat red Ora gets me so riled up I respond to such obvious information with: "Are ya kidding me?! Of COURSE I know I'm red. I could fry an egg on these cheeks! Now stop drawing more damn attention to them!!" It's good right?
This prepped work of art would've been super appropriate last week. Appropriate if I wanted to be fired of course, no pun intended. After the most frustrating and circular phone conversation with a dense (for lack of better post-appropriate word) student, my beastly glow took over my (and everyone Else's) Friday afternoon.
In a conversation like this one, where the point of statements like, "Like I explained THIRTY minutes ago..." have been reached, I am WELL AWARE that my face...and neck...and ears are all extremely red, and hot, and maybe even a little itchy. I maaaay have snootily whispered into the phone, "You might want to write this down as I say it for the last time..." but I can't recall. Hm.
Long story short, please don't tell us we're red, I promise you it's all we're thinking about already and we surprisingly don't care to explore the possibilities of its source, diagnosis etc. After 20 "some" years, we've been there, done that. We learned reeaal quick that drinking wine, chasing a soccer ball down a field and getting embarrassed ALL have the same outcome for us. Which is why we try our hardest to only involve ourselves in one of those ;)
There, now you've learned something new.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
In the lounge at the end of the hallway, in my "place of employment" is a very loud (and African American; normally I'd say black, I'm trying here) man yucking it up all over the place. He has the entire room (of other African Americans) just bustin a gut. When I casually referred to him as Tyler Perry...I may have been offensive.
In a conversation with my coworker about the Chinese plates her mother-in-law gave her for Christmas, I commented on how she must be "REALLY Chinese." I dunno.
The racial theme ends here.
I got my Broccoli on right before the roomie's D-to the-ate came over to pick her up. There may have been some comments about the offensive odor. Just trying to get in some zero-point foods that's all. Leafy greens are totally where it's at.
The boo's very sweet madre really did it up with the Navidad gifts for Sarita. In addition to my freakishly soft Lands End fleece (that I've pretty much lived in since December 25th) I opened up a Nordstrom box o' slippers. Any shopper in their right mind would have thought the same thing, "What will I exchange these for...?" If you're the logical (and frugal) gal that I am, you know Nordi's is the BOMB when it comes to return policies...and the answer to that question is a pair of tights and thirty extra bucks in my wallet. Being oblivious, as I may or may not have been called before, I openly shared this joyous event. Oops. Offensive. I attempted a rebuttal after my stern talking to: When is your mom EVER gonna see me in (or not in, in this case) slippers?! Camon!
I might have attempted some neighbor-bonding with a rant or two:
"Man, who's Oldsmobile is taking up one of our parking spaces?! That thing never leaves. They need to tow the P.O.S!"
"Oh. That's my husband's. He gets really sensitive when I bring up getting it fixed...and it's a Buick."
Welp see ya later.
We try our best. That's all anyone can ask of us.