Don't Mess With Me, I'm SUBFRUIT!

Mr. Desk Neighbor is trying to really tick me off today. I don't know why. I must have a 'Don't Frelling Mess With Me' sign flashing in neon somewhere above my head, which is acting like a flame to a moth, like shit to the flies, like 'Warning: Never Ever Push The Red Button' signs to the fatally curious.

Then, to mix it up, he throws out some convoluted compliments.

MDN: You're subfruit.

ME: Huh?

MDN: Because you're sublime!


Gawd! I'm going to be hearing that joke for months!

I've already heard Mr. DN say several times that he's bringing French food for the Cinco De Mayo potluck because the day is a celebration of Mexico's defeat over the French. He says this over and over and over again to anyone who hasn't heard it before because he thinks he's being quite funny. Sigh. There's just no telling him otherwise. :)

Because I haven't played in awhile...

It's Tuesday. I know this because its 5 am and I've been at work for half an hour already. And I have a midterm this afternoon. Bleagh. Frelling Tuesday man.

Anywhoooo... thought I'd play a little Tuesday Is Chooseday for old times sake. So I can relive those carefree days when I had more goof-off-at-work time on my hands. Sigh. Those were the days.




Would you rather...

1. be stuck beside somebody with horrible body odor on a crowded subway car for 10 stops OR against someone with an obvious erection on a long elevator ride?

I have a bad sense of smell, so the horrible odor probably wouldn't be too incredibly horrible. And it would be a lot less awkward standing next to Mr. Smelly than standing next to Mr. Pokey. But, in spite of these excellent reasons, I think I'd rather take the elevator. A long elevator ride will still be quicker than 10 bus stops, so the pain of awkwardness would soon be relieved.

And I wouldn't feel the need to immediately shower afterwards.

2. find out your parents kidnapped you when you were a baby and raised you as their own OR find out you had a twin that died at birth that they never told you about?

Most definitely option b! The first option would be absolutely horrible. I want my parents to be my parents through rightful and lawful means, even if they do keep huge you-had-a-twin-that-died secrets.

3. find out now that you will die exactly on your 70th birthday OR never know?

Hmmm... as I am today, an almost 30-something (and by 'almost' I mean 'still a few years away from being' - but its coming closer every day! I can feel it!)... where was I? Oh yeah, as an 'almost' 30-something, still youngish with a lot to look forward to, I'd have to choose the second option, to never know. I don't want to be thinking about it for the next 40 years. I don't want that to rule my life, that big looming date.

However, if I were 50-ish, my answer might be different. If I still haven't done anything with my life by then, it might be nice to have a deadline to work towards. It might be nice to lay it all on the table in multi-colored crayon charts and graphs: "I need to read this book, visit this country, kiss this celebrity, jump off this structure in this extreme manner, invent this contraption, find this cure, visit this talk show, and I only have 5,475 days left in which to do it in. Let's get crackin'!"

4. have regular encounters with aliens and not have any proof OR have your best friend be invisible?

Oh, most definitely the alien encounter! That would be cool. And who says you need proof? I bet some people would believe me. I bet I could even write a book about it. (Titled: All The Aliens I've Met And The Crazy People Who Believe Me).

Besides, I've never had an alien friend, but I bet they're more fun to play with than invisible friends.

Bleach Power!

My BBBF emailed me the other day and asked: "How's it going?"

I responded:

...frazzled. i just started the next quarter and i swear that last week was THE shortest spring break i've EVER had. all of a sudden it was friday and i was all, "where the hell did my week go????"

but its all good. my balls are still in the air. as in juggling. of regular balls, not boy balls. not that i'd know what 'boy balls in the air' would mean metaphorically to a girl. its just...

frazzled i tell ya. frazzled.

I'm afraid that's as much sense as I'll be making for the next couple of months.

I've been awake since 3:45 this morning. On purpose. Have I mentioned that I love my new work/school schedule? No? Well, that's probably because I haven't had time (or the brain cells) to do so. Which is why I'm writing this now, while I have a few free moments. Because as I learned in class yesterday, in my creative writing class, the only question you need to ask yourself is "Did I work today?". As in, did I write today. And this is writing, so today my answer is yes. Even though it's boring and sort of blahish. It's still writing. So I'm counting it dammit!

Where was I?... Oh yeah. Nowhere.

It was easy to wake up this morning because I was so anxious about waking up on time that I was awake at 3. Well, the ringing telephone woke me up, but I stayed awake because of the anxiousness. I've been awake for three hours now and I'm already feeling slaphappy. Not a good sign.

Yesterday I was full of the giggles. Today seems to be shaping up to be the same. Just a bit ago, Mr. Funny Desk Neighbor (who's as white as a marshmellow) walked into the trailer, paused three feet in from the door and said:

Him: Can I get a "what up" in here?

Me: Gee, I don't think anyone could have sounded whiter.

Him: Heh. Bleach power!

Me: *snort giggle*

He's very proud of that saying. I think he's going to try and trademark it or something. Sigh. There's just no working with him when he thinks he's the funniest thing since sliced bread.