All right, time for some updates. Didn’t post sooner because 1) I was busy with the end of the school quarter and making sure I wasn’t a spaz who didn’t enroll for the next quarter (Enrolled: check! Fees paid: check! Fall quarter successfully completed: check check check!) and 2) I got lazy because… well, I’m me.
So here it is, final updates from November’s (holy shnikes its almost January) To Do List:
The Reunion
Lame.
My 10 year high school reunion was the lamest thing in all of lamesville. Seriously folks, it was a waste of time. A waste of money. A waste of thought and energy. It wasn’t worth attending in the slightest.
But...
The hour or so me and my three best girlfriends and the HB spent at the Denny’s afterward was priceless. It redeemed the whole night for me, as only the power of laughter can. It was why I wanted the HB to go with me that night; not to meet my girlfriends (which he has) but to know more about them. About what makes them funny and beautiful women. And why I love them so.
I see them occasionally so going to the reunion wasn’t about seeing them. But the evening started and ended with them and in the end I’m glad they bugged me into going.
Fan Festival
Loved it.
I thought I’d be out of my element there. And I was a little bit, but nowhere near the degree to which I expected. The HB and one of his sisters were there as well as two friends we’ve made from playing this online video game. Those two were a blast to hang out with.
I spent the weekend surrounded by gamer geeks and it was a lot of fun. Now, I’m more of a dork than geek/nerd. Another friend from the game found my picture last night (more on that later... maybe... :) and said I didn't look nerdy enough to be a gamer chick. I couldn't tell if he was serious or just being nice. If I don't look it, its still deep in my soul. :)
I'm proud to say I'm a dork/geek/whatever. I don't mind owning up to it. But I still rarely talk about video games in front of non-video game players. So on that Thursday night while we stood in line to pick up our badges for the event that started on Friday we talked a lot of shop. What else are you going to do for two hours in a long ass line? Everyone else had the same idea. I was constantly hearing people talk about the game. Honestly, it felt weird for a couple of minutes. It's one thing to talk about it with a small group of friends somewhere. It's another to talk about it in a large crowd. At first I was all, What are you doing? Shush! You sound like a big dork! Then I realized we were all in good company, all in the same situation really, and it wasn't weird anymore.
Until all the gamer geeks started staring at my chest.
(To read my character name on my entry badge)
(And yeah, probably to stare at my big boobies too. Two for one and all that jazz.)
Monday, December 31, 2007
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
November's To Do's
* It's not the greatest schedule, but its been figured out as best I could.
(which is like, holy crap, this afternoon!)
* I actually took advantage of the early enrollment and got into a class that everyone complains about not getting into every quarter because the college is silly and only offers one class when there are enough people who want, or, better yet NEED to take it to fill three classes. So, uh, yea... Go me!
3. Coordinate much needed eye doctor appointment and spanish placement test to take place on the same day.
(Super Efficiency Powers Activate!)
4. Then ask for that day off from work. Or make plague type coughing noises the day before.
5. Go to my ten year high school reunion on the 10th.
6. Be really snarky with my best friends in regards to all the lame beautiful successful people so as to not feel so down on myself.
* They be ugly, but oh well!
(Damn this is getting expensive.)
* Check!
10. Catch up on homework.
11. Catch up on bills.
12. Meet a couple "strangers" I've become friends with while playing an online game that consumes so much of my time.
(This will be a first. I'm predicting it to be weird, nerve-wracking, but exciting at the same time.)
13. Hang out with them at the game's fan festival / convention thingy from the 15th through the 17th.
(Another first! Hopefully the HB can still buy tickets. I want someone to hold my hand :) I'm going to feel so out of place there.)
14. Figure out where I'm eating turkey on Happy Turkey day.
15. Write the next great American novel. AKA Participate in NaNoWriMo.
(Words so far: 0 hehehe great start!)
(I added this to the list mainly so I could cross it off and make it look like I'm accomplishing stuff. 'cause I'm awesome like that.)
* Edited 11/9/07 @ 11:15 a.m. real quick like while I kill the last 15 minutes of my half work day :)
Monday, November 05, 2007
The Ant Story
And now for another I Had A Bug In My Mouth story that was almost as traumatizing as the Hot Cocoa Bug Incident of '97 (tm) story.
I was sitting here, minding my own business (which was personal email business), when I look down at my half full coffee cup and see a floating ant.
'Well that sucks,' I think to myself. I'm kind of grossed out, but whatever, it's a little baby ant. So harmless. So dead. So germing up my coffee.
I get up, go to the bathroom and dump the coffee down the sink (we have no kitchen back here, just a cabinet and a coffeepot.)
Then I think to myself, "Self, if I were a dead ant floating in a cup of coffee, where would I have come from?"
I checked the sugar container. It looked sort of old and worn like it could have been sitting on the shelf for a millennium.
I looked through the hole. Nothing. No ants crawling around Sugar Valley.
Then I checked out the creamer container. Nothing. But something compelled me to keep looking. So I shook it a little. And then a little more. And a little more. And... *gasp* I saw something! Something small and round and dark. There isn't supposed to be anything dark in the creamer container!
I spilled some creamer onto the lid and showed it as evidence to my couldn't-care-less coworkers that I wasn't crazy.
Look! Ants in the creamer! I'm justified in my freaking-out-ness!
Gross, to say the least.
I was going to toss the whole thing, container and creamer and all, but thought: what if someone sees it, thinks it was a mistake that a half full container of delicious powdered creamer was thrown away, and takes it back out. That's gross too, but I felt it my duty to save them the trouble of making the decision.
I dumped the creamer into the sink in the bathroom and turned on the faucet.
HUGE mistake.
I saw, quite frankly, a million little, black, curled up Ant Balls of Death.
It looked like cookies 'n cream ice cream.
Icky! Icky! Icky! Icky! etc
This was around Wednesday or Thursday. Which meant I'd probably put dead ants in my coffee for a whole freaking week. How many mother@#$%& ants had I eaten?!?!
I couldn't drink coffee here for at least a week. And another couple weeks after that I was still checking the creamer for dead ants.
Icky!
I was sitting here, minding my own business (which was personal email business), when I look down at my half full coffee cup and see a floating ant.
'Well that sucks,' I think to myself. I'm kind of grossed out, but whatever, it's a little baby ant. So harmless. So dead. So germing up my coffee.
I get up, go to the bathroom and dump the coffee down the sink (we have no kitchen back here, just a cabinet and a coffeepot.)
Then I think to myself, "Self, if I were a dead ant floating in a cup of coffee, where would I have come from?"
I checked the sugar container. It looked sort of old and worn like it could have been sitting on the shelf for a millennium.
I looked through the hole. Nothing. No ants crawling around Sugar Valley.
Then I checked out the creamer container. Nothing. But something compelled me to keep looking. So I shook it a little. And then a little more. And a little more. And... *gasp* I saw something! Something small and round and dark. There isn't supposed to be anything dark in the creamer container!
I spilled some creamer onto the lid and showed it as evidence to my couldn't-care-less coworkers that I wasn't crazy.
Look! Ants in the creamer! I'm justified in my freaking-out-ness!
Gross, to say the least.
I was going to toss the whole thing, container and creamer and all, but thought: what if someone sees it, thinks it was a mistake that a half full container of delicious powdered creamer was thrown away, and takes it back out. That's gross too, but I felt it my duty to save them the trouble of making the decision.
I dumped the creamer into the sink in the bathroom and turned on the faucet.
HUGE mistake.
I saw, quite frankly, a million little, black, curled up Ant Balls of Death.
It looked like cookies 'n cream ice cream.
Icky! Icky! Icky! Icky! etc
This was around Wednesday or Thursday. Which meant I'd probably put dead ants in my coffee for a whole freaking week. How many mother@#$%& ants had I eaten?!?!
I couldn't drink coffee here for at least a week. And another couple weeks after that I was still checking the creamer for dead ants.
Icky!
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Why is it...
... that I never notice the stains on my shirt until after I get to work?
Seriously. W T F.
Seriously. W T F.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
P is for...
No, Jack, P is not for poop. Not that you even read this blog any more (when I bother to post) what with your busy new job and your new friends and that new stick up your butt.
That's right, I went there.
You don't talk to me any more. What's up with that? You barely respond to my emails. If I page you over the loudspeaker, would you even bother to return my calls?
Why don't you love me anymore???????????????
/emo
Gosh, its tiring being all emo and shit. And I'm sure I'm not even doing it %100 percent right.
I fail. At everything.
See, this is the anxiety talking. I'm anxious about a story due tomorrow for my creative writing class. I kinda like the idea that's in my head. I'm excited to explore and play with it. The problem? I can't fucking get anything written! Every time I start to write, the sentences that come out consist of boring drivel. The brain to paper translator button is on the fritz.
Frustrating, that is.
I'm also anxious about my high school reunion that's... holy shit... two weekends from now. I even dreamed about it last night. Me and the HB were wandering around, doing stuff, and I was wearing my new dress. And it looked really good on me. And I was pleased. Which is so not how I'll be feeling during the actual reunion. With all those people looking and judging and thinking... such a shame, she had a little potential.
Anywho...
P is for PROCRASTINATION
I was going to post the ant story alluded to a couple of posts ago. I actually wrote most of it while composing that post, but edited it out for later. It's later now, but I don't have time to finish it. To polish it and make it shiny. Because I have actual writing homework to get to.
Which is why I'm writing this instead.
Logic, they name is Lisa.
I don't know if that makes sense. But I'm leaving it there anyway. The Art of Stream of Conscienceness or Some Shit Like That.
Ack... I'm done. I need to write. My story demands it to be written. Maybe now my brain will work. Even if its crap, its crap that needs to be written.
Crap, here I come!
Oh... I guess maybe P is for Poop after all.
Damn you Jack! You win again!
But first, before I sign off, let me share the following email exchange I partook in this morning. If I didn't have to deal with this moronic stuff I'd have more time to goof off and do homework. Grrrrrrr.
Okay, what kind of a friggin answer is that? It doesn't answer either one of the questions I asked! The first was a yes/no question. The second required a numerical answer. The same doesn't fit either of those categories!
Friggin moron.
That's right, I went there.
You don't talk to me any more. What's up with that? You barely respond to my emails. If I page you over the loudspeaker, would you even bother to return my calls?
Why don't you love me anymore???????????????
/emo
Gosh, its tiring being all emo and shit. And I'm sure I'm not even doing it %100 percent right.
I fail. At everything.
See, this is the anxiety talking. I'm anxious about a story due tomorrow for my creative writing class. I kinda like the idea that's in my head. I'm excited to explore and play with it. The problem? I can't fucking get anything written! Every time I start to write, the sentences that come out consist of boring drivel. The brain to paper translator button is on the fritz.
Frustrating, that is.
I'm also anxious about my high school reunion that's... holy shit... two weekends from now. I even dreamed about it last night. Me and the HB were wandering around, doing stuff, and I was wearing my new dress. And it looked really good on me. And I was pleased. Which is so not how I'll be feeling during the actual reunion. With all those people looking and judging and thinking... such a shame, she had a little potential.
Anywho...
P is for PROCRASTINATION
I was going to post the ant story alluded to a couple of posts ago. I actually wrote most of it while composing that post, but edited it out for later. It's later now, but I don't have time to finish it. To polish it and make it shiny. Because I have actual writing homework to get to.
Which is why I'm writing this instead.
Logic, they name is Lisa.
I don't know if that makes sense. But I'm leaving it there anyway. The Art of Stream of Conscienceness or Some Shit Like That.
Ack... I'm done. I need to write. My story demands it to be written. Maybe now my brain will work. Even if its crap, its crap that needs to be written.
Crap, here I come!
Oh... I guess maybe P is for Poop after all.
Damn you Jack! You win again!
But first, before I sign off, let me share the following email exchange I partook in this morning. If I didn't have to deal with this moronic stuff I'd have more time to goof off and do homework. Grrrrrrr.
From: Nob
Sent: Wednesday, October 31, 2007 6:55 AM
To: Lisa
Good Morning ! Hey Lisa do you know if the parts I requested from
NEQUAK ever got ordered or came in? # 09F5329
From: Lisa
Sent: Wednesday, October 31, 2007 7:21 AM
To: Nob
That part number has been discontinued. The vendor recommended a different number, 22K8388. Will this do? If so, what quantity is needed?
From: Nob
Sent: Wednesday, October 31, 2007 8:34 AM
To: Lisa
The same.
Okay, what kind of a friggin answer is that? It doesn't answer either one of the questions I asked! The first was a yes/no question. The second required a numerical answer. The same doesn't fit either of those categories!
Friggin moron.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
If I were a Man-Rabbit I'd totally touch me too.
As previously mentioned in the last post I had a string of dreams a couple of weeks ago. I mean, there's a dream-remembering dry spell, then whammo hello here's four dreams to remember, then nothingness again. What is up with that?
Dream # 1 Synopsis:
Act I) I do weird embarrassing things in front of people who are not weirded out which weirds me out because they should be totally weirded out by the fact that I'm doing these weird things. Right in front of them no less.
Act II) I um... well... havemyfirstsexdreamever.
*cough*
Seriously. It was awesome. There was this guy, escorting me around some town in a car, we stop at some corner, he hands me six bucks, and directs me to go talk to the women standing on the corner. But they're not like Hooker-Corner-Standing. They're like... flea market setting-up-wares standing. I think they were selling baskets or something. And I uh... well... me and one of the girls end up in the back seat of the car. The end.
EPIC!
;)
Dream # 2 Synopsis:
I was in the videogame I was playing earlier that day (like, I was in that world, actually a part of the game... no, I don't play too much, thanks for asking), and we were doing stuff that we were doing in the game, then the location in the game morphed into the street next to my apartment complex.
We were all heading somewhere. The "where" wasn't too important at the time.
Eventually that somewhere turned into some underground bunker-like museum. It was a cross between the underground lab from the second Star Trek movie and Q's lab from the James Bond movies. And Tim Gunn was our tour guide.
I love it when celebrities guest star in my dreams.
Dream # 3 Synopsis:
Act I) something having to do with the DMV. I wrote it down somewhere so I wouldn't forget, but I don't remember it being too interesting. So meh, whatever. I can't remember the last time the DMV popped into my head, so my subconscious really had to reach deep for that one.
Act II) I'm outside in the DMV's backyard. There's a garden. At one point I start getting pawed by these strange Man-Rabbits.
That dream memory of the Man-Rabbits (like men in rabbit suits, only they're not a suits) will stick with me for awhile. I wasn't scared or worried. I was just mystified as to the Man-Rabbit's motivations behind touching me.
Other than the fact that in my dreams I'm, like, totally hot.
Well, not really, but I'm not my uberfat self either.
Did I look like a Woman-Carrot or something?
Dream # 4 Synopsis:
I was at work. Doing work. There was a little more too it than that, but that's what I woke up remembering. Doing paper work.
It was an awful feeling. Especially since I had to get dressed and go do more of it for real.
What the hell is up with that crap? I'm supposed to be having dreams about sex or Tim Gunn or creepy affectionate Man-Rabbit creatures. I'm not supposed to dream about all the paper work I have to do!
I love remembering my dreams, but good lord, these were getting progressively worse. I'm glad it stopped after the work dream. I don't want to think about how much worse it would have gotten.
I've heard from the HB, and from others, who have had dreams about doing homework. The HB, while taking Calculus 4, would have dreams about working out complicated calculus problems. He'd wake up exhausted, with hours of real calculus homework in front of him.
So at least I didn't have a calculus dream... I guess.
Dream # 1 Synopsis:
Act I) I do weird embarrassing things in front of people who are not weirded out which weirds me out because they should be totally weirded out by the fact that I'm doing these weird things. Right in front of them no less.
Act II) I um... well... havemyfirstsexdreamever.
*cough*
Seriously. It was awesome. There was this guy, escorting me around some town in a car, we stop at some corner, he hands me six bucks, and directs me to go talk to the women standing on the corner. But they're not like Hooker-Corner-Standing. They're like... flea market setting-up-wares standing. I think they were selling baskets or something. And I uh... well... me and one of the girls end up in the back seat of the car. The end.
EPIC!
;)
Dream # 2 Synopsis:
I was in the videogame I was playing earlier that day (like, I was in that world, actually a part of the game... no, I don't play too much, thanks for asking), and we were doing stuff that we were doing in the game, then the location in the game morphed into the street next to my apartment complex.
We were all heading somewhere. The "where" wasn't too important at the time.
Eventually that somewhere turned into some underground bunker-like museum. It was a cross between the underground lab from the second Star Trek movie and Q's lab from the James Bond movies. And Tim Gunn was our tour guide.
I love it when celebrities guest star in my dreams.
Dream # 3 Synopsis:
Act I) something having to do with the DMV. I wrote it down somewhere so I wouldn't forget, but I don't remember it being too interesting. So meh, whatever. I can't remember the last time the DMV popped into my head, so my subconscious really had to reach deep for that one.
Act II) I'm outside in the DMV's backyard. There's a garden. At one point I start getting pawed by these strange Man-Rabbits.
That dream memory of the Man-Rabbits (like men in rabbit suits, only they're not a suits) will stick with me for awhile. I wasn't scared or worried. I was just mystified as to the Man-Rabbit's motivations behind touching me.
Other than the fact that in my dreams I'm, like, totally hot.
Well, not really, but I'm not my uberfat self either.
Did I look like a Woman-Carrot or something?
Dream # 4 Synopsis:
I was at work. Doing work. There was a little more too it than that, but that's what I woke up remembering. Doing paper work.
It was an awful feeling. Especially since I had to get dressed and go do more of it for real.
What the hell is up with that crap? I'm supposed to be having dreams about sex or Tim Gunn or creepy affectionate Man-Rabbit creatures. I'm not supposed to dream about all the paper work I have to do!
I love remembering my dreams, but good lord, these were getting progressively worse. I'm glad it stopped after the work dream. I don't want to think about how much worse it would have gotten.
I've heard from the HB, and from others, who have had dreams about doing homework. The HB, while taking Calculus 4, would have dreams about working out complicated calculus problems. He'd wake up exhausted, with hours of real calculus homework in front of him.
So at least I didn't have a calculus dream... I guess.
Monday, October 08, 2007
It has been 5,486 days since my last confession.
Well, maybe not that many days, but it sure feels like it.
Man, do I fail at this whole blogging thing or what?!
I should have been posting during that week a couple weeks ago where I practically had four dreams in a row. Each one stranger and more disturbing than the last.
This here blog is the perfect place to record stuff, to save important and historical events in The Life Of Lisa to be savored at a later date - you know, in case I happen to suffer from temporary/nontemporary amnesia in the future, or whatever. Or you do, dear reader, and wonder why the hell you're here. So yeah, important and historical and blah blah blah. Let me tell you something, that first dream was definitely historical.
Here, a taste.
Dream 1: Sex!
Dream 2: Tim Gunn as Tour Guide!
Dream 3: Man-Rabbits from the DMV's garden!
Dream 4: My job, it haunts me! *cry*
All that dreamy goodness, and still no posts from I.
Then came the Ant Incident of '07.
I think I may have consumed a whole colony.
Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But there were several of them. And I'm sure once they mixed with the toxic acids of my stomach they became mutant Godzilla ants that mated with each other to produce gabillions of baby Godzilla ants
True story.
But more on dreams and ants later. I have to pee, but I need to post this first before Some Work Emergency happens which causes a rip in the space time continuum that is my brain and I totally forget that I have something to post.
Because my brain is a leaky sieve of a bitch like that lately.
Which coincides nicely with the fact that I've started a new school quarter!
/cheer
Man, do I fail at this whole blogging thing or what?!
I should have been posting during that week a couple weeks ago where I practically had four dreams in a row. Each one stranger and more disturbing than the last.
This here blog is the perfect place to record stuff, to save important and historical events in The Life Of Lisa to be savored at a later date - you know, in case I happen to suffer from temporary/nontemporary amnesia in the future, or whatever. Or you do, dear reader, and wonder why the hell you're here. So yeah, important and historical and blah blah blah. Let me tell you something, that first dream was definitely historical.
Here, a taste.
Dream 1: Sex!
Dream 2: Tim Gunn as Tour Guide!
Dream 3: Man-Rabbits from the DMV's garden!
Dream 4: My job, it haunts me! *cry*
All that dreamy goodness, and still no posts from I.
Then came the Ant Incident of '07.
I think I may have consumed a whole colony.
Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But there were several of them. And I'm sure once they mixed with the toxic acids of my stomach they became mutant Godzilla ants that mated with each other to produce gabillions of baby Godzilla ants
True story.
But more on dreams and ants later. I have to pee, but I need to post this first before Some Work Emergency happens which causes a rip in the space time continuum that is my brain and I totally forget that I have something to post.
Because my brain is a leaky sieve of a bitch like that lately.
Which coincides nicely with the fact that I've started a new school quarter!
/cheer
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