Hump On; ep. #1

So...

I am not sure if you have ever noticed, but "So," is how I like to start any conversation. Or any writing assignment. It is part of my little ritual. But it reads as annoying. This will be my last "So,". If I forget, you must call me on it and my inherent laziness.

Happy Humpday, everybody. Wednesdays usually are there to give you hope. Light at the end of the cubicle tunnel. I am not a fan. That light just illustrates all of the work I need to do before Friday at 5pm. And of course, Year End? So. Much. Work.

But this weekend looks to a fun-filled 2 days. Got girlies all weekend and, although nothing is planned, except maybe a sleepever, I am so happy.

Sadly, even though I have all that to look forward to, I need to distract myself from today.

I am implementing a Shout Out of a few things that I think are beyond awesome. Something that gets me through THIS day.

One of my favorite sites ever, is Threadless.com

I probably have a few dozen of their shirts. I love them like a fat kid loves cake.


They have the best zombie shirts:



















The best snarky comment shirts:




















The best optical illusion shirts:




















The best re-tard gift shirts:




















Even the best X-mas shirts:
















And this is what I wanna be for Halloween this year:



















Aren't they beautiful?

And so eclectic. I dare someone to not find a shirt they love.

Oh! And they fit. Not like a box, not like retarded small sizes only anorexic teans can wear. But like a flattering shirt should fit. Yay!

So, go there, buy alot. And if we end up with any of the same shirts, I promise to send you a complimentary hand gesture.

Yo! Asshole.

Why have you ditched me like this? I have needs and you are so not fulfilling those needs. It is simple. I ask for you to do something, and you SHOULD DO IT. How hard is this?

I am being made to look the fool. And it is your fault. I thought I could rely on you for pretty much anything, but today? You have failed me over and over.

So, that's it. I am done. It is over.

Fuck you, Brain.

Is It Friday Yet?

No.

Seriously.

Is it?

Fan-Freaking-Friday

I love days like this. Immersed into spreadsheets. ALL of my coworkers are out today. Blasting my iPod.

*sigh*

Heaven.

It amazes me how having people all around me unnerves me. And it gets hard to think, because I can hear them. Chitchatting at desks, personal phone calls, Bless-You's when I sneeze.

I think it is because I am in the dead center of the finance department. I am completely surrounded. And the Fight-or-Flight kicks in and I wanna flight my ass outta here STAT.

I dream of having a view of the outside. I don't need an office. Just a sliver of a window, so I can see the sky. I have never had a window in the many years I have sold myself for money. I always ask, but I seem to get that one place that is as far from window as possible AND not be in an office.

Ok, enough whining, this is a good day. This is the first day in many where I am not thinking, "Maybe I should skip lunch...". I probably won't work overtime tonight. I can see the light at the Year End tunnel.


And to finish (Ha, I said finish) a few random musings:

I just read a MamaPop article referencing moist anticipation. I must use this in a conversation today.

I'm wearing a zombie shirt today. People don't 'get' it.

I need to pay my bills today.

304: Apparently faking a threesome isn't as much fun as you'd think
How do you FAKE a 3some?

Caprica is on Syfy tonight - Why did I get rid of my cable?!

Listening to the Killers makes my hiney tingle.

Diary Of A Wimpy Kid is going to be made into a movie? Sweet.


And that's enough - have a good Friday.

Not Hump Day

I had a rather detailed and completely awesome blog prepped yesterday, but the damn internets ated it.

Luckily, I saved it, but it is a Wednesday blog, so it will have to wait.

My 34th birthday is coming up. I never have an inkling about my age until I hang out with people dramatically different in age from me. Last night, A and I partook of a common tradition of hanging out at our favorite local dive bar, Burg's. And there are regulars we usually hang out with. I always forget how young they are until I see them. I think my mind wants to make them older so I don't feel so pervy. Or maybe because I am still as immature as they are, except I'm 34 and they are 22, and there is just something so inherently wrong in that.

I mean, I have a degree, I have children, a house, and good job, and yet, my mind always seems to revert back to 14 year old boy jokes, binge drinking and ogling pretty boys.

I am kinda leery about acting my age. Hell, I don't even know what acting my age looks like. What does it look like? Wow, I just stumped myself. Am I that much in denial or is it true that 30's are the new teens?

Kick Me Stupid

I verily dislike Month-end.

I hate Quarter-end.

I loathe Year-end. With the fire of a thousand suns.

Guaranteed non-paid overtime. No lunches. Computer outages that never happen any other time. Weird shit you do once a year, so you have to retrain yourself... again. And a constant barrage of "Are you done yet?".

*sigh*

I just hope I can keep my head above water.

The Ugly Truth; also known as The End of An Era

I am assuming everyone has heard. *sigh*

"Scientists" have proven that the G-spot doesn't exist. Oh woes me! Now I will never reach ultimate fulfillment. Boo-freaking-hoo.

You know what I am really sad about? They discovered our secret. Ruined it for women everywhere. I can guarantee you, most sexually enlightened women KNEW there was no G-spot. We actually were the ones that made it up. Actually. Our moms made it up, and we perpetuated it. It was the best laid propaganda of the last few decades.

What better way to make a man spend a longer time on our sensitive areas, then to tell him there is this "spot" that will make me go crazy! You just need to find it.

...

"Take your time. Trust me, baby, it's there. Oh! Yes! You are not quite there yet, but you are definitely getting closer. Just don't give up. Don't stop."

...

Guys even thought that THEY had a G-spot. Theirs actually made more sense. But I sure as hell wasn't going THERE to look for it. Uh uh.

*sigh*

So scientists took away mammograms, and now this. I hate Science right now.

It was the summer of 1992. I am going to be a senior, but at that point, my only goal was to suck every last bit of fun out of the responsibilty-free, hot days. My family and I just finished a week out on Lake Mead. Meaning 6 straight days of being outside in 100+ degree weather. And the tradition was to go to Vegas and sit our sunburned asses down to see a movie. It would be our first time in air conditioning in a week. And made so much colder by our first degree and, in someplaces, second degree burned skin.


Sitting in the dark, picking popcorn out of a bucket with my tongue and slurping on a coke, the title flashes.

UNIVERSAL SOLDIER

Back then, I was in love with Jean-Claude Van Damme. In Bloodsport when he first hops into those splits of death? LORD. So I was pleasantly surprised at this movie. He's such a wooden actor that an emotionless cyborb-like fella is a perfect role!

There is one scene that, to this day, still sticks with me. He is at a diner and discovers food again. And all he wants to do it eat. Eat, eat, eat. And when the locals think he can't apy, they proceed with assault and battery. He vam-dammes the hell out of everyone, while still eating. But something amazing happened at one point in the scene. The herione returns to the cafe hesitantly, since a man had just went thru the front plate galss window. Peeks thru the shattered glass at JCVD and he says, "I just wanted to eat", in this sheepish, slightly confused way.

And my private parts went THROB.

That's right.

Everytime that had happened prior, a boy had been in my personal space. Not this guy. He was on a screen.

I was able to meet JCVD a few years later. It was then I realized we may have been the same height if I was in heels. Yet, doesn't change a thing. It doesn't detract from that moment at all.

Last night, as I am getting ready to watch District 9, there are previews on the DVD. And I am a whore for previews. And then the most amazing thing happens. I see this:





That's right. They are reunited in combat AGAIN.

The DVD comes out 2/2/10. I will totally have to watch it. In the dark. By myself.

New Year's Resolution - 2010

Last year (I think it was last year) my resolution was to have more sex. Boy howdy, did I accomplish that! Phew.

But, as I reflect, it wasn't just the sex that was more last year. It was everything. More drinking, more exercising, more money, more traveling, more... everyting.

And then I realized again - it wasn't even just more. It was better! Better job, better friends, better marathons, better travels.

That's pretty kick ass. Last year was more better than 2008.

So that's my resolution this year.

More better.

...And to get a tattoo.

Fell Off Of The Wagon - Part 28

I am addicted. I don't think I am ready yet to admit I have a problem. Oh no! Uh uh. Not me. Just because I am addicted doesn't mean squat. I could quit anytime.

"What am I addicted to?" you ask.

Alcohol? Gambling? Drugs? Sex?

Nope. That would be too easy.

I am addicted to dating. There. I said it.

...
...

Funny, I'm not that relieved. You'd think that just admitting it would lift a weight off of... but, no.

Of course, how would that lift the weight off? In the next 3 day, I have 3 separate dates. 2 firsts and a second. That's alot of pressure to perform. And I believe every date is a chance for me to perform.

Open scene - restaurant. Heroine sits in booth, spotlighted, sipping a beverage. Would-be Hero sits across, staring intently at the too cute and vivacious Heroine while she entrances him with her wit. Hours pass while she flits from one funny story after another, sounding just a wee bit rehearsed, but not noticeably. The night ends at her car as she dodges the first kiss and sets up second date. Heroine drives away, as Would-be Hero texts right away confirming he had a good time. End scene.

With a small change of detail here or there - that is exactly how EVERY SINGLE ONE of my first dates go. Only a few have ever deviated. I hate the first date.

And yet, I crave it.

And it really isn't that I want to date. I don't wanna get married, that's for sure. Just looking for a guy that fills my very small list of criteria, sparks chemistry, and wants me to be on his list of priorities. Not even in the top 4. Hell, I'd be happy with 5.

But alas, to no avail.

Sadly , everytime a potentially good relationship ends, I tell myself, "I will be single. I will focus on me. I will be by myself." Again to no avail.

Lord.

So, onward and upward. Off the wagon I go.

Although, hopefully, this time is a bit different. I have found the primo FREE dating site. What does that mean? So many more people, and a lot less hoops to jump thru. So I am slotting them in tight, and getting this done.

So, off of the wagon, I jump whole-hearted into the dating pool. ...again... Hopefully this bigger pool will help me not get bored with wading. Maybe there will even be waves, a diving board... Ooooo! a slide!