Tuesday, November 20, 2007


It's been a while. Sorry. Lame excuses.

Dying to post about work, because it's just so...wacky. But I won't, because of strange desire not to get fired. Not until after the new year, anyway.

I'm getting laser eye surgery. Sick of not seeing, you see. Sick of not being able to tell who's coming down the hall toward me, whether it's an attractive or unattractive, large blur. Sick of mistaking unattractive, large blur for slightly less large, more attractive, blur. Tired of insulting people that way.

Also? Tired of not being able to see TV (from the bed), tired of asking, "wha' happen? Wha' does THAT say?" during movie; SO very tired of losing glasses, finding out I ran over $300 Nicole Miller frames w/ my car (well, if not MY car, then A car. Anyway, they were smushed).

Tired of, I never liked those glasses anyway, because they had those stupid, Vegas-y rhinestone-y thingies on them, which I never noticed when I picked them, because when you pick them, you aren't wearing your glasses. Which you are in the process of buying. Because you cannot see.

Last year, I got Invisalign, which is not at all invisible. Wrote a whole post about it. Didn't publish.

Anyway, hopefully it fixes my bucky beaver teeth. 2nd time I've had braces. 3rd time they've been paid for. What a drag.

Cranky had braces once, he decided to take them off himself w/ a pair of pliers. How his parents didn't kill him to death, I don't know.

What else. Turned 33. Do not feel like Jesus. At all.

What did I do for my birthday? Hate my birthday, but have learned that it's an excuse to eat bad food. For a week. Because I made Cranky buy me cupcakes, which no one would eat. Have had a cupcake/day for approx. 1 (one) week.

Sprinkles piss me off.

How are your...thingies?

I'm not doing so much else, have no social life due to a certain small, burrito-shaped dog named Bosco, who will not let anyone else but me walk him, and who screams like a woman, loud enough to be heard down the block, if they even attempt to take Tulip out without him. Freaky li'l flying burrito.

Maybe, in 2008? I might be able to leave the house one time.

Other birthday redux: got disastrous haircolor. I asked for 3 shades of red (her idea); I got 2 shades of red? And poop.

Poop seems to be a very popular color for people to be sneaking onto my head.

It's growing on me. Or, at least, it covers the gray.

Losing the last 10 lbs. I have been carrying around where my ass used to be when I was 17 (now technically my muffin top, or "Danger Area") is Phase III.

Phase III doesn't happen until after the holidays, because that would be stupid.

I am not sure what happens at the completion of Phase III. Possibly some sort of midlife crisis involving a younger man and a red sportscar. Unfortunately, due to 2nd-time-around braces, laser surgery (unless I get laid off, because those are happening, whee, scary for Halloween, 'cuz there's no place like home! For the holidays...'cuz no matter how far away you roam...you can live with your MOTHER! when you're 33! For the holidays, 'cuz they sh*tcanned your aaaaaasssss...!!1!!) new car will not be happening in 2008. Even if old car dies a horrendous death, involving me, an actively pooping cat, and the HOLLYWOOD sign. And Fabio. And a dead pigeon. And a roller coaster. And some Viagra.

Uh, will advise.

Happy Turkey/Tofurkey/Fermented Bean Curd Day!

Miss you...


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