In an effort to stay awake during class last night I had three cups of coffee beforehand. I had no trouble staying awake because my bladder was screaming at me. I quietly slipped out the back of the classroom to find the bathroom. On my way, I noticed there was a copy of The New York Times left on the freebie student rack. Not wanting someone else to get it I grabbed it, tucked it under my arm and walked into the ladies room.
Sitting in the hallway were two very young boys. One turns to the other and says, “Dude, chicks do that too? I thought only old men pooped and read the newspaper.”
That’s me, paving the way for all women to poop and read freely.
For this week’s column click here, where I talk about going to the Utah State Fair. I’m still pretty pissed that RLO wouldn’t let me feed a hamburger to a cow. Something about cattle not understanding irony. He’s always ruining my fun, that boy. To see more pictures of the fair go here.
RLO’s family is ruining my life. Yes, I see how that may sound excessively paranoid especially given that I’ve never even met them, but that doesn’t make it any less true.
His family is in SLC visiting this week, which means he has no time for me. This happens every time they are in town. I lose my best friend for days at a time. The worst was when his sister got married. Did she even ask my permission to get married on my birthday last year? NO! She’s obviously very selfish. After the appropriate amount of guilt I forgave him, after all it’s not his fault his family is so inconsiderate.
This year not only are they in town stealing my BFF, but they are taking him away to a remote cabin in the forest. This is where I draw the line. How do I know they will take proper care of him? Do they know RLO requires a certain amount of teasing to survive? Do they know he must east at the pub at least once a week? Do they have Diet Coke at this cabin? Or a TV so he can stay caught up on “The Hills?”
I have a feeling they are going to fill his head with a bunch of “family first” nonsense that will likely take me months of brainwashing to correct.
And the worst part? He didn’t even ask me if he could go.
RLO and his family, are obviously, fired.
I’m trying to be Christian about it, you know that whole “What Would Jesus Do” attitude. But I’m pretty sure Jesus would kick their asses and take RLO back at any cost. Isn’t that what salvation is all about?
Last night I had my second session with Trainer Tracey. I accidentally spilled the beans and told her about the song I sang to RLO while we ran laps in the gym while carrying those damn 10 lbs balls.
“I hate Tracey, yes I do. I hate Tracey and so should you.”
Rather than taking offense she laughed. It makes working out with her so much easier just knowing she doesn’t mind if I have to hate her sometimes.
It was a great night at the gym, not only because we had a good workout, but because there were no police outside waiting to arrest me for statuatory rape. I was so pumped about these Gliding Discs we used that rather than order some online and wait for their arrival, I rushed home and tried the routine again with paper plates. I thought my plan was brilliant, but quickly realized my mistake when I couldn’t finish the workout because Daisy wouldn’t stop licking the plates.
Looks like I’ll be breaking down and ordering the plastic ones. Luckily they look similar to Frisbees, so she won’t go near them. She never was a Frisbee type of dog, even when she had both eyes.
I may not have a better half to come home to, but I do have something else: a scooter BFF with impeccable timing! I came home to find a package of goodies in the mail, including the elite scooter bad ass scarf.
Now if I could just get my damn scooter repaired. Thanks Kelli, you’re the best long distance relationship a girl could ask for!
I’m having an off day. One in which I want to go home and tell my better half about, only I don’t have a better half. Well, I do have Daisy, but she’s too busy rolling around in my pile of clean clothes with her half-chewed bone to care too much about my troubles.
Not that I really have big troubles, mind you. I have it pretty easy considering, but I’m having one of those days where it seems like my life is quite possibly the hardest, most difficult life lived. I guess it could be worse… I could be Sarah Palin.
Cleaning my apartment this morning there was a pesky bottle of wine taking up space. It needs to be thrown out, but there’s a glass and a half left.
Do you:
A) Pour the wine down the drain.
B) Look to see if anyone is watching, drink the wine while telling yourself you’re not really an alcoholic you’re just not willing to waste money, or wine.
C) Happily pour yourself a glass of wine to accompany your breakfast while toasting yourself for being so awesome.
Last night I went over to Mrs. AK’s house for a much needed BFF night. It’s been a tough week. School is kicking my ass, and a comment from a co-worker really got under my skin and pissed me off.
Needless to say, I needed my BFFs and a nice glass of wine.
Little AK was ecstatic to see me, and I was just as happy to see her. I’ve been too busy for BFF night, and man have I missed my second family.
After hugging me for a good five minutes Little AK requested we play in the other room. “Honey let me have a glass of wine first. It makes me soooo much more fun to play with.” She nodded understandably and followed me into the kitchen.
Thirty minutes of bossing RLO around and catching up with Mrs. AK, I turned around to find Little AK pointing her finger at my glass, “Sarah drink your wine right this very second.” And you know what? I did just that. I think it’s important to let kids think that they are in charge on occasion. So for good measure I drank two.
Last night I met the lovely Charlotte for a quick cup of coffee after school. We talked about creepy things like spiders and mice. When I arrived home I was still a bit jumpy. Otherwise, I’d like to think the following events might not have happened.
When I got home I found Daisy standing in the hallway, hair raised and growling. I thought perhaps she had heard her chipmunk outside and didn’t think twice about it.
When I ran upstairs I heard faint voices coming from somewhere, but I couldn’t figure out where. The windows were all closed and the neighbors weren’t home. I checked the TV and radio, but nothing was on.
Daisy was still freaked out and growling even louder. At this point I started getting nervous. I hadn’t remembered to lock my apartment when I left to meet Charlotte, but if someone were there wouldn’t I have noticed? My apartment isn’t very big.
I hushed Daisy’s growling in hopes to figure out where the voices were coming from. It was silent, so I talked myself into believing I had imagined the whole thing. I went back upstairs and heard it again. Fuck. I had my phone with me so I tried to call my brother, which is something I always do rather than calling the police.
He didn’t answer. By this point the voices were louder and I was completely freaked out. I wanted to climb in bed, pull the covers over my head and ignore it, but I couldn’t. If I’m going to be murdered I wanted to see who it was so I could somehow leave a message for the police, in order to help solve the crime. I’m very helpful in the event of my death.
I grabbed the closest weapon I could find: a black stiletto shoe. I quietly crept down the stairs ready to attack. Daisy was standing at the closed bathroom door growling very loudly. My killer must be inside. With my heart beating out of my chest I swung the door open to discover my killer:
My very adorable mirror must have fallen off the counter when I shut the door too hard. As you can imagine, I was quite relieved I hadn’t called the police, because that would have been humiliating.
