Monday, August 31, 2009

workaholic?

i worked a whopping 62 hour week. i practically work as much as the President.

but it's good. it's ok. because i like clothes.

on friday night i babysat and JJ came over after the kiddles were (supposed to be) in bed, and baby P was playing on the ground with some toys. S was out cold, but just as soon as JJ walked in, baby P cried to be held, and M creeped out of bed. i put the baby in JJ's arms and escorted M back to bed, as she peered beneath her lashes and giggled at JJ. (looks like i need to up my game, eh?) after i tucked M into bed and gave her one last kiss on the cheek, i noticed how silent it was. and i became suspicious of the silence.

i walked down the stairs, and there they were. JJ holding baby P not close to his chest, but away from his body. like he didn't want to hurt her, but he didn't want barf (i don't care what they say, i don't call it "spit-up." if it comes up after a meal and out of your mouth, then it's most definitely barf) on his shirt either. he was looking at her, and baby P was just staring back at him. wide eyed and completely in a trance. i cleared my throat and said, "excuse me, am i interrupting?" JJ exhaled gratefully as he handed the babe back to me. "she is just so....mini," he said. "yes, she is, and isn't she just---" interrupted by barf on my neck.

saturday morning i went to work and read about 200 pages. that's it.

then later that night i babysat as well. we watched Bee Movie and right at the part when Barry and Vanessa go to the pasadena parade of roses, i started to get sleepy. then M wanted me to lay in her bed with her until she fell asleep, and so i read my book and started to nod off. after sneaking out of her room, i went downstairs to get a glass of water to wake up and started reading again.

the next thing i know, the parents are walking through the door. i had fallen asleep, straight and stiff under a blanket, with my hands folded peacefully across my chest, my book splayed out on my lap. i probably looked like a vampire taking a nap. i had one eye opened with a sheepish still-dreaming grin as they handed me payment, and home i went. suppose i was a tad tired?

you all know exactly how my day at work on sunday went.

and when i got home i slipped into my "time flies when you're having rum" pirate t-shirt and spent the better part of the afternoon watching movies and ordering JJ around. you see, i decided to groom Cleo. i cut out all of her knots and it was JJ's job to keep the dog from biting me, as well as transferring the removed knots to the trash.

i never stop working. and i can't quite figure out if i am a workaholic. does it count as work when i read for my entire shift? or if i fall asleep on my employers' couch? or if i spend over 2 hours beautifying the dog?

Sunday, August 30, 2009

sundays with oldies

besides the fact that i'm 99 percent sure Jamie in maintenance saw me itch my crotch this morning (NOT A YI), every sunday is the same.


there is a church service on sundays. and at 8 am, Mavis in 519 comes down to pick up the basket that is used to collect the offering. church starts at 10:30 and at 10:27 Pastor Gail comes up to my desk and asks me how my day is, and i always feel a pang of guilt because here i am, looking up "sexy halloween costumes for 2009" on google, and she is in her long robe thing and has a Bible in her hand. (note: on the rare sunday when i am hungover and wearing a smelly tshirt and linen pants with a stretchy maternity-like waistband, i feel extra ashamed in front of the Pastor) the truth is, JJ and i would probably go to church way more often if i didn't have to work on sundays. but i can pretty much hear the Pastor's sermons, and i can see just a glimpse of the Jesus stained glass window from my desk, so i feel like i kind of get a church experience.



at 10:33 i count the offering and put it in the revenue box. i'm on the trust system. and i am trustworthy. the last lady who worked in accounts payable got fired for stealing the church offering. she probably isn't going to have a pleasant afterlife.

Irene in 26 leaves her wheelchair by my desk, and she always leaves one strand of white hair out under her full brown wig. Roy in 637 says, "well how's Tracy this sunday?" and i say that i am fine even though that's not my name. and Scotty in 323 farts upon his exit from the elevator, i kid you not, EVERY SUNDAY, and he looks up at me and i say "hello Scotty!" and pretend i didn't hear the snoic boom fart he let out. and Marlene in 723 comes down in her "church outfit" which consists of: an enormous bright yellow Columbia polar fleece jacket with matching yellow loafers, green ployester pants and red lipstick. Wendell and Jesse in 523 come out of the elevator huffing about not wanting to eat chicken cordon bleu AGAIN for lunch (every Sunday the dining room serves that...very rarely do Wendell and Jesse get lucky with sunday crab cakes or beef tenderloins) and Bev in 502 comes down at 10:45 and asks when church started. i say "10:30" and point her in the right direction.
anyway,

at 11:15, i put down everything i'm doing and watch this until lunch:



congratulations, you get to see the view from my desk.


would you check out those fancy new walkers they make these days? they practically have power steering and the brakes on those things are better than the ones in my car.


anyway, the residents, they gather like this, in flocks after church, talking about the weather, gardening, family, and who's in the hospital. and though they are sympathetic for those not doing well, they crave the information. they are like perez hilton time a thousand, only old. they just talk and talk and talk about anyone and everyone. they are a bunch of gossiping geese.


every sunday is the same. the only thing that changes is the tone of Scotty's fart.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Cleo's Crystal Light

Cleo in the car

i know i write an ungodly amount of blogs about my dog. but she is so stupid it's funny. whenever she runs into the oven door, or pees on the sidewalk and steps in it, instead of peeing in the grass like a normal dog...or barks at the reflection of the TV in the window, JJ and i just look at each other and go "ohawww. she's so stupid," in the kind of voice you would use to talk to a baby. (case in point: as i type this, JJ is talking to her in the annoyingly sweet baby-like voice saying, "hello you disgusting little stupid animal. you're a vermin" ...because she brought her soggy rawhide bone onto the bed and it touched his leg) like we hate her but every time we look at her, she melts our hearts and we can't help but love her. she is just this idiot creature that we took into our home. the dumb thing. we just pity her. and she is so cute it hurts.

this afternoon i had to work, so at 9 am i ran some errands. i took Cleo with me because she loves to ride in the car. i recently made the best purchase of my life (well actually my mom bought it for me the last time i was home because my sisters got to go school shopping and my mom originally said "nothing for you." then she changed her mind and bought me dog food, sharpies and my new favorite thing. thanks momz). my new favorite thing is: a giant black plastic cup with a skull and crossbones on it. i love it because i take it into (retirement community) work filled with crystal light. it just makes me feel like a smug bastard because i'm smiling and saying "good morning Doris and Harry" but all the while i am holding this dark cup filled with a refreshing beverage. the whole thing is so contradictory i just love it.

this morning i filled my cup with crystal light (cherry limeade! which JJ is no longer allowed to drink outside of the kitchen because we have a cherry limeade stain the size of africa on our RENTAL CARPET ...i tell you the man needs a sippy cup) and hopped into the car with Cleo. we drove to target (she just loves the wind in her hair) and i parked, rolled the window down a crack for her (dogs aren't allowed in targets otherwise she would have been in my handbag) and went in to do my shopping. when i came out, she was laying in her spot (in the passenger seat all snuggled up in her "car blanket" a yellow, white and pink checkered blanket that i inevitably use every time i spill fry sauce on my lap, which is a lot. like a lot a lot. like i'm not going to tell you how many times i eat d'lish cheeseburgers minus the patty each week). basically the blanket is kind of gross. in fact, if you took a peek into my car you might think it belonged to the 800 pound woman on TLC.

anyway, i see Cleo in her spot, then i look at her face, and GUILT is written all over it.

then i notice..........

her beard is stained red.

and i briefly panic because i'm like OMG should i call the vet, my 6 pound dog just drank at least 8 ounces of crystal light. then i remember that it's practically just water (no sugar no calories, says so right on the box) so i look at her ready to yell at the dumb thing and she just tilts her head in the way dogs do and she is so adorable i want to squeeze her. and i say in the sweet baby-voice "oh you stupid little dumb shit, crystal light isn't for doggies," and i pat her head. she looks at me a for a bit longer, then sticks her head back into my skull cup and finishes off my cherry limeade crystal light. ajskdfhjasdkfhhkfs CLEO!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

the morning routine

we all have them. every morning we do it the same. Rah and i went to dinner last night, and somehow morning routines came up. by the end of describing each other's, as well as our mates', we were doubled over from laughing. because the things we all do.....are so weird. and we are such creatures of habit.

i get up at 6:30. my first order of business is to slip out of bed and get my toothbrush ready. then i take Cleo out to potty, and while she goes, i stand outside and brush my teeth in my underwear. (i am so modest, didn't you know?) then we go inside, i give the dog a treat, and i go into the bedroom and annoy JJ for approximately 3 minutes. (i am a morning person, he is not...until after he's had his coffee) then i sit on the floor and do my makeup. after i have a nice looking face, i put on the outfit i set out the night before, and hairspray my head without brushing it. then i go into the kitchen and feed Cleo and Chanel, make myself a sandwich for lunch, conjure up a cup of coffee and grab breakfast to-go. when i get in the car i call my Mother. she counts on my 7:11 am call every Sat, Sun, Mon, Tues. i talk to her until i get to work. then i go inside, get my morning duties situated and then eat my breakfast. then around 8, (usually between 8:01-8:07) it's time for my coffee dump. the end.

JJ gets up at 7. after i annoy him, he finally rises out of bed to go straight to the cappuccino machine without a word. about 10 minutes later, when he is just finishing frothing his 2% milk in the plastic mug with the green rim that came with the magic bullet (he claims it's the perfect size), he kisses me goodbye before i go to work. however, if it's a Wed, Thurs or Fri, i am still in bed, so he has to let Cleo out and feed the animals. then he sits in the pink chair in the living room and drinks his latte while he checks his laptop: espn.com, insidesocal.com, ladodgers.com and letsgokings.com. when he's finished with his coffee, he brushes his teeth and gets in the shower. he takes a loooooooong one. 15 minutes, and gets out, wrapping his towel around his natural waist. like he wears it so high it's almost touching his nipples. then he shaves. then he picks out his outfit. he gets dressed, and leaves the house at 8:15 on the dot, arriving at work at 8:30. he isn't technically supposed to be there until 9, but he likes to have a half hour to sit by himself and prepare for his morning. (and if i'm not home and he oversleeps and gets to work at 8:45, which is STILL EARLY, it will ruin his day) the end.

Chanel is nocturnal. she has a 6 am aerobic work out where she just runs and runs around the house. when the humans start to stir, she jumps on the bed and sits on their faces, and meows until she's fed. then she eats and goes under the couch until 3 pm. the end.

Cleo gets out of bed when she feels like it, goes out to pee and poop. she comes inside and chases Chanel until she retreats under the couch. then she follows me (and sometimes jumps after me into the car) until i leave and waits for me to get home. the end.

please respond with YOUR morning routine!

Monday, August 24, 2009

girl vs law

today is my sister M's bday. she is 21. which is clearly the best birthday that exists. after 21 there aren't any exciting birthdays. BUT, M's bday is an EXTREME cause for celebration. even more than the average person's 21st.

my sister doesn't like to drink carbonated beverages (weird) so she refuses beer, she hates wine, and generally doesn't like to drink alcohol because it tastes bad. she never drinks even though she's in college.....................well, almost never.

June 29, 2007. one month before MY 21st bday. M was in town for a visit. i had gotten a new car for my birthday and she drove it to Spokane for me. that night, she stayed with me. and she, Moon and i went to a summer beer pong party. we had a total blast, and instead of walking the 10 blocks home, we decided to call our roommate McCrack to come and pick us up.

then McCrack got pulled over. for a taillight being out. christ. Moon, M and i all have cups o' beer in our hands, so it obviously smells like alc in McCrack's jetta. so the cop gives McCrack a sobriety test, then proceeds to ask the rest of us if "we had been drinking?"

i said yes. M said yes. Moon said no, then said only 2 drinks, then said only 5 drinks.

then. we. got. MIPs. all 3 of us.

so the cop wrote us each a ticket and took our picture. quite luckily i happened to be wearing a cowboy hat. so i posed with one hand on my hip, left leg crossed in front of right and head titled slightly....akin to my pose at the driver's licensing office, and i smiled.

afterwards, Moon continued to take her fake ID and party until dawn, while M and i opted to call it a night. later that night in bed, i tapped M's shoulder and i said, "heh heh heh, it's kind of funny isn't it?" she she cried, "NO IT ISN'T" and started sobbing. it had been too soon i guess.

we all had to go to court. it was the most disgusting room of people ever on earth. including chained up prisoners in orange jumpsuits. Moon and i ended up paying fines, and we were both almost 21 anyway, so whatevs.

poor poor poor M. she paid her fine, and had to check in with an officer periodically throughout the next year.

then little M decided to drink once more in college. . . . . phone call from her the next morning. "L, i got another one..." she said. "another one what?" said i. she started crying.

to make a long story short, M has had to deal with more law jargon than i care to think about. they think she's like this raving alcoholic who can't control herself, when both were simply classic cases of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

and of course, with her luck, on her 21st birthday, her volleyball team is in "dry season" (who would ever create such a horrible thing as "dry season" ??) so she can't party like an animal. she gets ONE DRINK at team dinner tonight. i told her to go with a long island ice tea or an AMF.

so here's to M: congratulations! you no longer have to fear the law.

note: this blog WOULD HAVE included the picture of me that the cop took that fateful June night. i asked the court if i could have it and they said, "why would you want a copy of your mug shot?" and i said, "because i'm fairly certain i look incredibly cool and fun." ....... "no," they said.

target toiletries

i'm wearing the same shirt i wore to work yesterday. why? because i can. and i lost my deodorant so i used JJ's. it's old spice. and i don't know why he chooses that crappy blue gel stick. it just covers your armpit in cologne, and little tinges of onion BO smell leak out. basically i stink.

Mr. Steegstra in 405 is a thief. i watch him every morning as he steals the Wall Street Journal from the library. he just walks by my desk, with the WSJ displayed proudly on his walker. and knows that because i am starting at him, he is caught. so he just yells something to try and distract me. like today it was "I NEED MY TOILET PAPER HANGER THINGY FIXED...hmpssbbbbb." you can't fool me Mr. Steegstra.


but here's the real reason for the blog post: we got a new bed as a wedding gift from Mimi and Papa. it's a four-poster beauty, and i want it to look just like the bed in the pottery barn catalog. so i needed embroidered white euro pillows (duh). i found some online at target. so i called both the spokane targets and there were only two left! so i put them on hold. i had to work, so i asked JJ if he could pick up the euro pillows. i also told him to pick up some black pants for himself (target has GREAT menswear, i mean PHENOM menswear).

i don't know what it is about men and target. target is like my dreamy happy place where i can literally get lost for 2 whole hours. and the deals! oh the deals i find at target. JJ and i have this game that whenever i get home from target, i show him new things and he has to guess how much they cost. basically it's such a fun party every time i go to target. when he gets back i'm like "what'd ya get what'd ya get?" and he pulls out, all excitedly, a double pack of old spice deodorant. ok. bored. and that deodorant sucks. what else? out comes a king size pack of mouthwash. OMG come on. NEXT. new toothbrush. WHAT IS THE OBSESSION WITH THE TOILETRIES?! the man LOVES toiletries. i don't get it. so i usually get bored somewhere between the bar of soap and the shaving cream. the great thing about JJ in target is he never spends a ton of money. toiletries are inexpensive. so i usually have no problem sending him there.

well this time, i sent him to pick up the pillows and black pants. i expected him to come home with at least some shampoo and/or toothpaste, but instead, he gets home and goes, "so guess what i got for my present?" (present? wtf?) "ummm....present? i said 'black pants' not 'present' JJ." he said, "well you got the pillows..." and i said, "JJ the pillows are for US, for the BED that we SHARE." he said, "well i wanted something for myself." so i get kind of excited like OMG he actually bought something interesting and not toiletries from target! and he pulls out......

Tiger Woods for the xbox. come on. that's not even cool.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

fast times at Shell gas station

when i turned 16, i got a car. a purplish-blue 1997 ford taurus, "The Wide Woman" or "The Purple Bullet" as we liked to call her. but, she didn't ride for free. i had to get an after school job and pay for my own gas (and my own cell phone at that. me and my cousin B had a 2-year plan together that we started after being hooked by the cingular booth at the yakima fair, can you blame us?)

so pay for my gas i did. then 2 years later my sister M turned 16. and she couldn't get a job because "she had a seroius committment-filled after-school sport." effing volleyball. the fact that i did dance, drill team and swim team didn't count for anything in my parents' eyes. thanks, support team.

so she got a magical gas card. (and a cell phone by the way) FREE. just free. while i had to work for my everyday necessities in high school, her athletic ability bypassed her through life. well my parents just couldn't give her all these goodies and leave me in the dust (i would never let them), so i too got my cell phone paid for....and my magical plastic gas card. there he was (only mine didn't say Chris Morgan).


it was a passionate love affair. we grew inseperable. he had the primo spot in my wallet (this was before Hello Kitty Credit Card of course) and he was like gold. he filled my tank on those visits to friends, and allowed me to offer to drive whenever there was a road trip. he got me through those college days when i spent all my grocery money on clothes. one little slide through the machine, and that strawberry-kiwi gatorade, 12-pack of hostess donettes and zebra stripe gum were mine. he provided me with a king size bag of chex mix that fed me for 3 days that one time i couldn't live without the maroon Juicy zip-up sweatshirt. and he gave me ample amounts of busch light tall boys during those summer nights in 2007. he bought me that nasty bean burrito that one time at 2 am which i later barfed, and he bought me and the girls beer when we ran out at my bachelorette party...and that was the last time he let me use him for alcohol.

you see, on the day before my wedding, i filled up my car with him one last time, then i laid him gently on a bed of paper, inside a thank you card. i gave him back to my parents, just as beautiful as the day i got him, shiny and clean, ready to give and give. you see, my sister MM turns 16 in October, and i was warned i would have to say goodbye to him, for i was to be traded in for a younger and fresher girl. it was time for my love to see the sights and have adventures with someone new. i wiped the single tear that made its way down my cheek and gave him one last kiss before sealing the envelope.

and this last month i have realized:

HOLY SHIT gas is expensive.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

watch the cream

Bill Phillips in 328 came down this morning for breakfast. he always says hello to me and chats for a few minutes.

this particular day, he told me i shouldn't be drinking on the job, and made a reference toward my travel coffee mug with the hearts on it. i laughed when i was supposed to at his joke (which i hear probably 4 times a day), and let him smile at the thought of his own clever quip. then he asked me if i was drinking a latte. i said no. then he asked me how i like my coffee. just with creamer i said.

and he looked at me and got all seroius and said, "now you be careful with the cream, you don't want to lose your girlish figure."

thanks for the tip, Bill, thanks a million.

wow wow everybody!

wubbzy lives in a tree. he likes to play play play. he's got a bendy tail and he likes it that way.

it's a children's show. and i love it. it's my favorite one. by far. dora can suck it. and ruby from max & ruby is a total bitch. little bear is annoying. olivia is pretty cool, and i kind of like veggietales. but wubbzy rocks the TV!

inevitably, when i'm babysitting and it's "watch a show time," M and S settle into the couch and if they can't decide on a show together, i put on the Wubbster and there are no complaints.

yesterday baby P was crying, and she quite likes the television (what an American!) M and S were gone at a birthday party, so i turned on Wubbzy and let her watch and be happy. but of course i enjoyed it as well. it was a movie event with guest star voice Beyonce! bonus.

well, M and S came home while i was holding baby P, and while Wubb was on the TV. M totally called me out and said, "why do you love Wubbzy so much?" i blinked. and said, "well........i just. oh M, i just like him ok?" she didn't look convinced. i mean, how do you explain to a 5-year-old why you like a yellow fictional cartoon character that resembles a cross between a monkey and a mouse? how you do you explain how your heart just warms when you see the little guy bouncing across the screen? you can't. it's just weird.

but she can't explain to me why she likes to eat her boogers, so i guess we just let each other off the hook--just this once.

YI Doomsday

before you read this, please know that i had a really hard time writing this. i debated with myself for about 20 minutes on whether or not i should indulge you with this mortifying experience. i decided that you, the people, have a right to know the intricate details of my bizzare life. so, you're welcome.

i got married. and therefore kicked off my parents' health insurance. and since i don't work "full-time," i had to get my own plan. and since my dad is my insurance agent, he found me a good one. FYI: to be added to JJ's plan, it was $250/month. i was like I CAN'T DO THAT IT'S LIKE 87% OF MY INCOME.

anyway, i had to fill out a health questionnaire for my new plan, and it was verrrry specific. i was like i don't have arthritis, or depression or hernias, i'm totally cool. this is totally cake. then. my heart stopped and my blood ran cold. the question read, "do you or have you ever had chronic bacterial vaginosis (vaginitis) or candida yeast (yeast infections) within the last 10 years?"

you see, i'm....."sensitive." and in the summer of 2007, i had some issues "down there" requiring doctor visits and Monistat, if you know what i mean. alright, i'll say it: YIs, YEAST INFECTIONS. (i'm blushing, OH THE BURN!) and please, all you women, agree with me: NOTHING ON THIS EARTH, NOT EVEN A BAD OUTFIT, IS WORSE THAT A YI.

i was all "mom, i can't write that on this form, Jamie will read it and he'll never look at me the same again (Jamie works with my dad, and was the one to process my health information). and my mom was like, "well, if you get another one, and it doesn't show up as a pre-existing condition, then your insurance will think you lied and they won't cover it." and i was like, "OH MY GOD MOM SHUT UP IT'S NOT A 'CONDITION' IT WAS JUST A FEW MONTHS OF YIs." i stared at the question for like 15 minutes, trying to figure out how to answer it in a way that won't make it look like i have serious major vagina issues. sisters CA and MM just laughed cruelly.

in the end, i put "yes, in the summer of 2007, but never again since." (double underlined). i gave the info to my dad, and now all i can think of is how his business partner, who has known me for over 10 years, now knows, that, at some point in my life, i, LGH, had chronic vaginitis.

Friday, August 21, 2009

the selah luck

i don't know what it was, but when i went home on wednesday, a raincloud was following me. dammit raincloud, i told you: I'M NOT ZIGGY.

we went to a family dinner the night i arrived at el cap, or as my dad calls it, el crap. (he gets the shrimp fajita...brings the "crap" upon himself). afterwards, i walked out to my dad's sportscar and lay on it a la Nascar Girls, you know, to be funny. and 2 nasty men drive by and whistle. why do i always get caught?
i brought home our old couch (which also happens to be my parents' old old couch) to put it in storage, because JJ and i wanted to buy a new couch at ikea with wedding $$. so off to ikea we go. me, mom, and sisters M and CA. we get there and have a blast (obviously), and when it's time to pick up the couch, we are informed they are OUT OF STOCK.

i start whining about the raincloud. i whine and i say "damn" (you know, gotta keep it PG rated. just like "Gone with the Wind") and i pout and stomp my foot for extra emphasis. M and CA see this moment as their opportunity to GTFOOT (figure out what that means on your own, dummies) and so it was just me and mom. and i was thankful for my mom, because, you see, if it had been JJ instead, there would have been double the pouting and stomping of the foot, and we would have left in a huffy and sans couch. but not my mom. she marched right up to customer service and told them how far we'd traveled for a couch that, online, said was "plentifully in stock." BS IKEA. take your BS AND GO TO HELL OR MARIPOSA (equal in my book). the customer service rep just had her eyes half open and said, "sorry ma'am." my mother then demanded a manager. the manager came out and my mom said, "i'm hoping we can do one of two things: either sell us a floor model couch, or waive the shipping fees to spokane, since my daughter can't afford to pay that money." (yesicanmomrude). the manager said, "i'll see what i can do," and walked away. my mom looks at me and said, "that would have been more believable if you weren't wearing those expensive shoes." don't blame the shoes, ma.
and WAH-LAH my mom's plan worked. we got a floor model. basically a used couch. for full-price. but brand new cushion covers. it looks quite nice in mine and JJ's living room.

Cleo & New Couch

(note: we also bought a new shelf at ikea. got it home..........open it.........don't have the hardware. it's just a board. and just like that, ikea strikes me again).


after ikea, we went to the mall. i had my eye on a leather jacket online. my mom convinced me to not buy it online because of the shipping fees (what is it with you and the shipping fees mom?!) i get to the store..............no leather jacket in stock. akshdfouweoifadli8ewoarf0-342 so i buy knee-high leather pirate harlot boots instead. (totally cool...what is wedding money for? ...i kid, i kid). then i have to pee really bad because i drank two whole diet cokes. and. BATHROOM CLOSED FOR CLEANING.

after we get home at 11:30, i whistle at Cleo to come to bed with me. she gives me one look and follows my mom and Lola666 to my parents' bedroom. i yell after her, "that's what i get for feeding you and cleaning your shit?!?!"

doesn't anybody love me?

Monday, August 17, 2009

sickly

friday: i got a 102 fever and body aches. (my first time being sick since that one time freshman year in college when i had an allergic reaction to penicillin). so i slept. and then woke up to go to a wedding. and had to leave shortly after because i was too sick. went home and slept. woke up on saturday to go to work. was there for 2 hours and come home and slept.
that is me not amused to be working whilst on my deathbed of sick.

after my nap on saturday, i woke up and finished writing my portion of the thank you notes (ahem. JJ...) then i took a tylenol cold and flu PM and was just settling into the cloud bed and ready to let the tylenol work it's magic with Cleo (JJ was out golfing with his coworkers....with the clubs i managed to miss with mah car) when i realized i had to tinkle. so i sludged out of bed and sat on the toilet. and people, my dear, dear, dear PEOPLE, i fell ASLEEP ON THE TOILET. there aren't many further lows in life than falling asleep on the toilet. it was only for a minute or so, but still.


after my stint on the porcelain throne, i fell into bed and crashed. until about 11 pm. when i got a phone call. and when you take any PM medicine, you are like the grumpy giant from Jack and the Beanstalk, groggy and moaning and thrashing, heaving your lifeless arms around you until you find what it is that's trying to wake you up.


well WHADDYA KNOW? it was my phone. JJ crying. "honey i just threw up 10 times....into the garbage can while i was on the toilet." so JJ comes home whining like a baby (i have been assured that it isn't only JJ who is a baby when sick--'tis all men) and crawls into bed. at this point the tylenol drugs combined with JJ's whimpering have set me over the edge. i grumble and glare at JJ to leave me be, as i have work in the morning.


Sunday i make it through work, go home and sleep, and watch movies with JJ in bed all afternoon. it was wonderful. we went to bed at 9 PM.


9:30 dad calls and wakes me up

9:46 mom calls and wakes me up

10:00 Cleo yaps in her sleep and wakes me up


this morning, i wake up, cautiously slither out of bed, and slowly stand up. no throbbing pains anywhere. great! i get dressed at an incredibly sloth-like rate, as to not disrupt my good feeling.


i am feeling so great that i test my dress code limits by putting on black jeans. i smile to myself and said, "self, you are really something. you naughty little shiste." then i poured myself a nice tall glass of water and emptied an Emergen-C packet into it (just in case!), i kissed JJ goodbye and out the door i went.


i chatted with my Mom about CA and her boyfriend on the way to work, cheery and jolly. i park my car in an amazing Princess Parking Spot (term used by KKiss, meaning "extremely great parking spot") and grab my class of Emergen-C to head into work. DOHFSDHSFDHSKJFLKSFDAIOUDSGHLKJDF the entire glass spills on my lap. fudge fudge fudge. luckily i am wearing black jeans, eh? it didn't even look like i peed my pants.


i was muttering to myself as i was walking/waddling up the stairs and one of the custodians caught me and asked me if i peed my pants.

Friday, August 14, 2009

which is the worst?

which thing (from the time span of 7:10-8:00 am) is the worst:

1. i got a call from work late last night. it was one of the receptionists asking if i could cover for her today so she could go on vacation a day early. she was the one who covered for me when i was "sick" when Moon was in town, so i said yes.

2. i wanted coffee this morning before work. i grabbed the magic bullet to grind my beans, and it smelled terribly of garlic. JJ made homemade pesto last night. in the magic bullet. and he used too much garlic. in fact, we had to go to dairy queen to get the garlic taste out of our mouths. but it didn't work. we woke up still reeking of garlic. so i scrubbed the magic bullet. to no avail. so i threw the magic bullet and yelled loudly, then left.

3. i start to pull out of the garage. crunch. get out. JJ's golf clubs. all. broken. called dad and cried.

4. stoped crying, got myself together and drove to work. come around a corner only to see a camouflaged homeless man sleeping on a hill, covered in foilage. i was so shocked that i swerved, nearly giving myself (and said homeless man) a heart attack.

5. got to work. checked voicemail. there is hate mail. "i'm calling to ask why your organization is so sexist!!!!" seriously. whatever that means. we are a non-profit retirement community. how, in any possible way, does that translate to sexist???

6. got a phone call. it went like this:

me: "thank you for calling rockwood, this is L how may i help you?"
scary-voiced person: "this......pause.....is.......pause.......Vladimir Kosova."
me: "how can i help you Vladimir?"
scare-voiced Vlad: "i.....pause........want......my.......money...."
me: silent.
Vlad: "for the cocaine and......marijuana....that i sold you."
me: panic. hang up.
me: stare at phone, horrified.

wtf?

WHICH IS THE WORST?!?!?! HUH?!?!? YOU TELL ME!!!!!!!!

update: woman with mullet at work struck again. i am now the editor of the employee newsletter. so i was trying to think of a clever name for the title. i came up with "The Rock Republic" (love love love!) and she sends me an e-mail. "hmm....i like 'Rockin' at the Rock' or 'Rocky's Bull" ...like Rocky and Bullwinkle! isn't that too cute?"

just please. the idiots i have to deal with.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

when (we think) no one is watching...

we do weird things. do not ever deny it. you know you do. especially if you live alone (ahem...Sam and Moon...and myself at one point). we stare at ourselves naked in the mirror, we run around screaming, we jam out to a spice girls song...all in the comfort of our own home. i remember one particular incident in college when Rah and i were hanging outside our dorm room, which faced another building of Gonzaga housing apartments. we could see right into this girl's room. and this girl, the poor dear, was in her sports bra and a pair of boxers, dancing around, with the windows wide open, every now and then staring at herself in the mirror making "sexy" faces at herself. we laughed, but how painfully embarrassing! she never saw us though.

JJ and i, since living together, have seen one another doing these awkward things. so we now say, "CAUGHT YA BEING WEIRD!!!" whenever this happens.

well, yesterday, i was in a particular mood. JJ was outside grilling a steak (bulghggh) and i saw it as my opportune moment to take the first shower....in a while. i hopped in and washed my hair. started singing, then dancing, it was great. GREAT! then i got out and put on some underwear and a t-shirt that says "practice safe lunch, use a condiment," and started dancing around shouting lyrics and other joyful things, then talking to Cleo, making funny sounds and laughing. i was just being especially crazy. even for me. then i turned around, and there he was: JJ standing with the spatula in his hand just staring at me with a crazed grin on his face.

it takes a lot to embarrass me, but this particular and ongoing demonstration of my phyche really was just plain stupid. STUPID. so i sort of just hung my head in defeat and walked away.

JJ said, "hey L?" i turned around, looking at him, hopeful for forgiveness and a pardon from my own uncomfortable incident..."

caught ya bein weird," he said quietly.

fudgeeeeee. he'll never let me live it down.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Rah's neighbor (cue Alfred Hitchcock movie music)

so Rah and Nebular live in this beautiful suburban neighborhood. but they are 23 and everyone else is in their 30s and 40s...babymakin families basically. Rah uses an analogy to describe her situation: "we are like pufferfish. everyone else is a whale." the first time she said this i just blinked my eyes and waited for her to explain (because i mean, come on, wtf? but that's Rah for ya). Rah said that the neighborhood aka the whales just swim along, moseying around, and they're all the same. but then they run into the pufferfish and are like "OMG WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" her neighbors are very interested in Rah and Nebular's life and are always poking their whale heads where they don't belong.

but......they have this ONE NEIGHBOR who is seriously a vicious fish with 3 rows of teeth. not a shark because Rah loves sharks and she does not love her neighbor. we cannot compare the two. her toothy fished neighbor lives for the neighborhood whale gossip, but she is especially interested in pufferfish gossip. the toothy fish is always talking to Rah. things like, "your grass has dry spots," or "when are you going to have that pile of dirt moved?" or "who's car is in your driveway?" and Rah is just polite and kind and answers the toothy fish's questions in a nice pufferfish kind of way. and MORE THAN ONCE Rah has caught toothy fish peeking out her window being a nosy snoop.

last tuesday, after a fun evening of hanging out with Rah, i was pulling out of her driveway, and out of the corner of my eye i saw it: the toothy fish sitting in her living room window just looking, searching for a piece of gossip. so i backed my car out slowly, decidedly. then i pulled up right in front of her house, and i looked out my window and stared at her. just glared and stared in my rudest way. then the coward toothy fish turned off her light. hah.

Rah and Nebular are having toothy fish and potatoes for dinner tonight.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

grumpy groomer

after a week at my parents' house in the country, my dog came home a little shaggy and dirty and in need of a bath. so naturally i took her to the groomer so i didn't have to do it.

i took her to the place where Chanel got her $70 haircut. fan-say! i just asked for a simple trim around the face and a bath for the little pup. "no problem!" she said in a cheery voice with a smile, "come back in an hour."

i came back an hour later, and the owner was none too happy to see me. no more smile. no more cheery voice. just quick sentences. "your dog was extremely matted," she said. "oh, yeah, sorry, that's why i brought her here," i said. "well, you need to take better care of her hair. it hurt her when i was brushing them out," she said coldheartedly. she like thought i was trying to hurt my dog on purpose. (who does she think she is anyway? a government employee? tee hee) i thought to myself OMG IS SHE CHASTISING ME? she said to me, "you need to buy a wire brush and comb her everyday." i was like, "WHOA, high maintenance dog, eh? heh heh." she didn't even crack a fake smile. she just said, "you like her hair longer, so you need to keep up with it."

i looked at Cleo. Cleo looked at me. we silently agreed this woman was not for us. and we left without leaving a tip.

pepsi-cola (not the beverage)

JJ has this friend. pepsi-cola is what we call him. and i am totally and irrevocably obsessed with him. not in a sexual i-want-to-do-your-friend kind of way. it's more of an omg-your-friend-is-the-most-intriguing-person-i've-ever-met kind of thing. he was a friend of JJ's from college (and lives in Spoke!!!!!!!) JJ went to the Gonzaga in Florence program with this guy. he is a handsome Italian with a nose piercing and he wears birkenstocks.

pepsi-cola was the guy in Italy who was always bartering with the local thugs for hash. he also tussled with a sicilian gang and got knifed by one of the members, resulting in a hospital visit and stitches. JJ happily retold these tales to a wide-eyed and speechless (rare occurance) American blonde girl (whose most scandelous deeds included high-crime theft from the Easter display at Petco, and a cowardly face-off with a man bearing a barbed-wire tattoo in the Arby's parking lot). i remember staring at JJ, incredulous (but never doubtful of) amazed, and shocked by this wonder-man. even before i met him i thought this guy was incredible. crazy and unrelenting and positively spontaneous. something about him just turns me to jelly.

JJ has also regaled me with stories of pepsi-cola getting run over by a car, pepsi-cola's escapades with mind-altering substances, pepsi-cola being Gonzaga's drug lord; basically pepsi-cola being effing crazy.

when i met him for the first time in real life, i was at a party with Crazylegs (who will be referred to as "Moon" from here on out). we heard some commotion in an upstairs room. and there he was, with a halo of light around him. he was rapping. free-style RAPPING to a group of admirers gathered around him. he had one hand on the belt of his pants and the other was waving around to the beat of his own music. Moon and i stared, open-mouthed at this unbelievable person. (note: Gonzaga is full of generic people. all girls wear seven jeans, northface jackets and uggs. there is no diversity or interesting thing about the generic zags. Moon and i always felt sort of out of the loop--in our own world of weirdness. then we met pepsi-cola...) when he was finished rapping, he took a huge bong rip. he peered over his smoking accessory, winked at me and i took the opportunity to introduce myself as JJ's girlfriend and he said "oh yeahhhh. sweet. you're jay-rome's girl." Moon introduced herself to him, and then he was on his way. we stared after him. what a treat it was to meet him in real life.

every time i see pepsi-cola i have a bit of celebrity shock. i get shy around him. JJ thinks i'm a total freak, but REALLY he is so totally cool i just think maybe osmosis can turn me into him a little bit.

a week after Gonzaga graduation this year in May, JJ and i went to the Taylor Swift concert. afterwards, JJ wanted to go to pepsi-cola's house to say goodbye to him and the group of friends he grew close to during college. (pepsi-cola was on his way to enjoy worldly travels, his other friends were moving back to California) i didn't want to go because i was wearing a stupid country cowgirl outfit complete with boots AND a hat. i was so totally nervous because i didn't want pepsi-cola to think i was weird. JJ forced me inside. and i sat on a stool, all uptight with my bhole clenched because OMG i was in pepsi-cola's house. JJ just hissed at me to calm down and stop acting like a creepy obsessed stalker. JJ's other friends were chatting and saying their goodbyes. and. then. in. walks. pepsi-cola. i sucked in my breath and just tried to act normal. "hi" i said. "sweet hat," he said. OHMIGOD HE LIKES MY HAT! WAIT...UNLESS HE WAS MAKING FUN OF IT. OHMIGOD L SAY SOMETHING TO HIM! JJ is giving me a look like "please stop making that face. you look constipated." and i just smiled awkwardly and kept staring at pepsi-cola.

when we left, i tripped out the door over my cowboy boots and shuffled out to the car. we drove in silence for about 15 minutes. i could tell JJ was just annoyed with my weird 13-year-old girl behavior. but i said it anyway; "do you think pepsi-cola thinks i'm cool?" "OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD L, CALM DOWN! WHAT IS YOUR OBSESSION WITH HIM ANYWAY? SERIOUSLY? DO YOU WISH YOU WERE ENGAGED TO HIM INSTEAD OF ME?" said JJ. "of course not dummy. i'm just..........in love with---i mean--i mean--i just am....obsessed with him," i said. he just shook his head at me.

just this week (JJ finally understands my obsession-but-not-in-a-sexual-way infatuation with pepsi-cola), JJ came home after work and said,

"guess who called me today?...you are totally obsessed with this person."

i said, "MOON?!"

he said rather annoyed, "NO. pepsi-cola."

"OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG WHAT DID HE SAY? DID HE ASK ABOUT ME? IS HE WONDERING HOW I AM?"

"no, L. he is back in Spoke and was wondering if i wanted to hang out," he said.

"WHEN? when will you hang out with him? are you sure he didn't say anyyyyyything about little ol me?" i said.

"he asked how the wedding was. if you can calm down, i will take you with me to see him," he said.

"HOLY FUDGE! OK OK OK OK but wait. he did? he asked about the wedding? did he ask if i looked pretty in my dress?" i said.

"NO L," he said.

"ok. well, i want to go with you when you see him."

3 days later:

"do you want to go with me to pepsi-cola's house?" said JJ.

"OMG are you kidding me? i can't. not today. i just can't. he makes me too nervous." i said.

"all right. well then you're going to miss out," he said.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! i mean, just. i want to go. but i'm too weird. he makes me awkward. just. fine. go without me," i said.

"you're weird," he said.



-----------------------

OMG WHAT IF HE READS THIS BLOG? no, he wouldn't waste his time reading my blog...would he?

Saturday, August 8, 2009

horrid fate

today has been the worst day ever in life.

1. i had to go back to work today. i have never hated weekends more ever in my whole life (except for when i played softball as an adolescent because tournaments were on the weekends)

2. i get to work and receive an e-mail: "Cindy (my boss) will be out this week. her sister has been diagnosed with the Swine Flu, and she herself isn't feeling well."

3. work. blocked. facebook.com.

someone just please put me out of my misery before i die a facebookless death at my desk from the Swine Flu.

just FYI: i have spent all of my company's time today searching for new jobs.

name game

does ANYONE know how much of a pain in the ASS it is to change your last name legally?

well, let me enlighten you.

first is the s.s. card. that was relatively painless. i just went in, waited, and got the biz done.

next was opening a joint account with JJ. i went in alone first, but they needed proof (aka JJ present) to be convinced that i really got married. so i went again the next day and brought JJ in with me. an hour later, our joint account was activated.

in order to use my new debit card and/or checks, i needed an ID with my new name on it. but i couldn't get one because my extensions turned orange on my honeymoon and i couldn't have orange hair in my license eww! so i had to schedule a hair appointment. then AFTER my appointment i went to the DOL aka Hell and took my number and waited an hour to stand in a cubicle facing Cheryl aka Hades. i presented our marriage certificate and proof that my s.s. was changed. she looked at me impatiently and said, "your certificate is not certified." i was like "what do you mean the certification is not certified? i got my s.s. changed." she rolled her eyes visibly and said, "you have to take it back to the state and get it certified." then she looked right past me and called the next number. rude. i turned on my heel and stormed out, stomping all the way out the door and muttering "fudge" (fudge is my new favorite "cuss" word. because it's much more pleasant than the "F word" but you still get the same thrill out of screaming FUDGEEEE)

so the next morning at 8:30 am i drove to Coeur d'Alene to get the certification "certified." i put quotations around "certified" because all the certification is: a zeroxed copy of the original with the signature of the white trash Idaho worker on it. and it was two whole dollars. i just stared at it and said, "that's it?" so i drove back and went straight to the DOL again. only this time is was Hell amplified. every seat was taken, there were screaming babies (the signature item at government agencies), people lined up out the door, asshole government employees (why are they all so terribly rude?), businessmen in power suits sweating, secretly praying their DUIs magically disappear. i did one room sweep with my eyes, turned on my heel and said "fudge." i was so mad i went to D'Lish Hamburger and got a cheeseburger minus the patty, fries and a diet coke. i ate it all in the parking lot, then went to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

the next morning i was ready. i set my alarm for 7:30 am and was in my car at 8:15. i arrived (not first) among the early smart birds, and waited only a mere hour and fifteen minutes before they called my name. i hopped up and strolled to the counter. Cheryl (Hades) again. "hi. i got married. here's the certification." Hades looks at it, charges me ten dollars, asks me how much i weigh and sends me to get my photo taken. i walk up to the woman behind the camera and hand her my receipt. she said very unenthusiastically, "stand behind the line look at the blue button." and i said, "is my hair OK?!" she just stared at me, then closed her eyes and said, "ye." (like a halfway yes, and yeah, and i don't give an F.) so i stood how i normally do for pictures: feet crossed, left hand on hip and head tilted slightly to the right. BBC (biotch behind camera) heavily sighs and says, "straighten up please." and i was like "oksorry." so i did but i still kept my head tilted. BBC gets real annoyed with me this time and says loudly, "look at the blue button and straighten your head." everyone in the DOL was staring at me. i wanted to shout at BBC and Hades and all government workers "SORRY I'M NOT A ROBOT" but i didn't. i took the little copied card out of BBC's hands and looked at my new license: me, only totally boring. i have a slightly irritated look across my eyes and my head is not tilted at all. totally. not. me.

JJ said i look the same as i always do. but i don't. well it's official i'm LEGH now. only took me a week, a tank of gas and twenty-six dollars (for the "certification," the license fee, and the hamburger meal and movie ticket i had to buy out of frustration)

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

honeymoon hilarity







our experience:

-the flight to puerto rico had a screaming child (inevitably).

-the hotel we stayed in for one night in puerto rico...was. so. appalling. it was a comfort inn that JJ booked. we arrive at 1 am after our delayed flight, and the front desk man proclaims how lucky we are because they have one room left! ........and it's a smoking room. it smells like a dead person and smoke in the room. i thought there may actually be a dead person in there. and the ashtray wasn't even like a modern one. it was the old really heavy browned glass kind that you see in taverns, you know? JJ got offened because i complained about his reservation "skills." we survived the night barely and my pillow had the smell of smoke in it for the entire vacation.

-we get to our stateroom on the boat (why are they called "staterooms" ??) and the color scheme is: teal and peach.

-we got to dinner the first night, only to discover we didn't have our own two-person table. no. we are sharing a table with the oddest family we have ever met. first is Janelle, a forty-something mom lawyer. George, Janelle's 11-year-old puerto rican son. and then there was Elvis. Janelle's boyfriend of 8 years. a man in his 50s who is a firefighter and doesn't believe in cable, Catholics or clean clothes. after one night JJ and i switched meal times because we didn't want to be caught in awkwardness with them. well after just one perfect night of eating at a two-person table, we were put with an elderly woman traveling alone. she talked for 15 minutes about how many lovers Barbara Walters had. the next night we decided to go back to Janelle George and Elvis. they were thrilled to have us again. George taught us a delightful new term: "sleeping queer" meaning to sleep naked. on a boat with over 4,000 people on it....we saw Janelle George and Elvis everywhere we went. and it was the totally awkward while winking "hiya...see you tonight at dinner!"

-on one particular day in Dominica, JJ and i were at a loss of what to do with our time on the island. lo and behold we saw Janelle George and Elvis in passing after breakfast and they informed us that we had to go snorkeling at a place called Champagne Reef. and so...we went. Elvis made us follow him and watch as he poked a sea urchin with a stick and said through his snorkel "watch the locals flock to the sea urchin" (by "locals" he meant fish) at one point in the day i was swimming unfortunately behind Elvis and caught a glimpse up his very short red swim trunks. bulghhhhhh every now and then JJ and i would hear in a bossy tone, "GEORGE, MOMMY! OVER HERE!" and every time we would burst into a gut wrenching laugh.

-while snorkeling, JJ became frustrated with his gear. he splashed around and slapped his arms on the water and yelled "i HATE this. i can't breathe and water keeps getting in my mouthpiece and my goggles." so i said, "shut up you baby. here, take my gear." and i switched with him. as soon as we went back to the reef for snorkeling attempt #2, i feel a little sting on my arm. i just scratch it and say, "oW!" JJ said, "what?!?!" and i told him something bit me. he told me that it was nothing and not to be ridiculous. then he jumped up out of the water screaming "i hate this! I HATE THIS!" i look at where he is clutching his arm and there is an array of inflamed red bumps. Elvis kindly informs us that JJ had been bitten by sea lice. i almost died trying not to laugh. karma, JJ. karma.

-on the last night of the trip, the room attendant left us 4 envelopes to put tips for him, the waiter, the assistant waiter and the head waiter. the suggested amount? $50 for each person. i looked at JJ, JJ looked at me. we didn't have that kind of money. so we spent the last day trying to avoid our room attendant, the waiter, the assistant waiter and the head waiter. and of course Janelle George and Elvis make a parade of giving Franklin Jerry and John (our waiters) huge fat tip envelopes.

-on the last day we said goodbye to Janelle George and Elvis, said goodbye to the hideously colored stateroom, said goodbye to our honeymoon.

author's note: i only write about the bad luck because having a good time usually isn't funny! we had an absolute blast but were so gald to be home. now we are just a regular ol married couple!

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

i don't belong in the city



READ THE BLOG BELOW BEFORE READING THIS ONE.

whilst still in seattle, still in the same outfit from nordstrom rack, i went to the crab pot with my dear friends LJ and her fiance (!!!!!!), Sam and KitKat and her husband. we had a total blast.

then later that night i met Sam's bf. he's a cop. and one time he had to arrest a man wheelchairing his way down I5. he didn't have legs. so Sam's cop bf had to pick him up and put him in the back seat of his car. but since the wheelchairing bum didn't have legs, his pants fell off. so he was a legless, pantless bum. needless to say, Sam doesn't frequent her cop bf's state trooper car. anyway, they are totally cute and loverbirdy and LJ and i went back to her apt and spied on Sam and her cop bf. omg are we 12?

the next morning we took the bus. (we also took the bus home the night before, but someone had a seizure on our bus to we had to get off and walk like 500 blocks to catch another bus. and then we realized it was the same bus who picked us up again.) i didn't have bus money so Sam had to dig through her coin purse to help me. and i'm still totally in my nordstrom rack outfit. i have the exact right amount of change (mostly dimes and nickels) and i put them in the meter as i get on the bus. but it takes a long time for those damn nickels to add up so i got dirty glares from seattlelite bus riders. then we sit down. and i can't find my phone. i thought i left it at LJ's apt. so i panic and sweat and panic some more. then i realize it's in my back pocket.

then LJ goes to work and i tag alongside Sam for the morning. she works in the king county courthouse. so you have to pass your bag through a security x-ray thing and go through a metal detector. my watch sets off the metal detector and the x-ray camera finds a corkscrew in my purse. (!?@#%^&$%!?) i don't even know how a corkscrew got in there. so they escort me to the guard and he watches while i search for the corkscrew. i pull out: my makeup bag, my dirty underwear from the day before, the stupid sundress, a tampon, lipgloss...basically my whole dirty life falls onto the courtroom floor. i retrieve the effing corkscrew and hand it to the officer. i tell him he can have it i never want to see it again. then i hang out with Sam in her office and eat the cheese sandie LJ made me for lunch.

i go to the passport agency. get JJ's passport. take a picture of the passport and e-mail it to JJ. just for effect, you know? then i walk around the block looking for a barnes and noble until i meet Sam for lunch. we have a nice little lunch and then i catch the shuttle and then i get on the airplane. all the while, i am literally clutching the passport to my chest.

i hate seattle. the only reasons i go: to see my friends. to go to the crab pot. and to obtain passports for idiot husbands.

passport idiocracy.

it's my 100th post! i want streamers and sprinkles to cascade around me. hfsdajk but they're not.

i need to back track now. to the thursday before the honeymoon.

JJ and i went to seattle. we stopped in ellensburg to give my mom Cleo and Chanel for the week. and i had to poop in the walgreens. totally gross i don't recommend their facilities.

then it was off to the passport agency. i wore a sundress, and he was in shorts and a t-shirt. i thought it was supposed to be like record breaking heat in seattle. we were there the one cold day. so i was packing tictacs up top (if ya know what i mean) all morning. we walked into the passport place and followed the instructions written on the wall. JJ didn't know his own mother's birthday so he had a minor panic attack while i solved the problem. then we sat. with our number. just bored to tears. and of COURSE (because this is always true) there is a child running around screaming and throwing things while his obese mother sits and types things into her phone, totally oblivious. i momentarily thought about tripping him on his next lap around the room, but then i decided a classic game of hangman would be just the trick to pass the time!

i stumped JJ on: douchebaggery and seahorse poop. he got me on: white folks and Lacie is gay.

it was finally our turn. so we walk up to the window, bright eyed and eager (you know they play the game at the passport agency where they decide if they like you or not, and give you a passport depending on that first impression) and alas! we had a native californian man helping us who had also just recently gotten married. he totally loved us and JJ chatted with him about LA sports and such, and he granted us a passport.................that we had to pick up IN 24 HOURS. kill me plz.

JJ had to work friday. and i didn't. so i called LJ and Sam and KitKat. LJ agreed to let me stay at her apt for the night. the only problem was i had to find something to do for 5 hours until she got off work. i hate cities. i panic and sweat and can't handle them. so i made JJ stay with me until LJ could meet me. then it starts raining. JJ and i look down at our stupid outfits. we ran to nordstrom rack. i bought: the first pair of jeans on the clearance rack that fit me. they were black. a tank top and a white sweater. i was going to buy a bra but then didn't want to waste another $15. bras are stupid anyways. JJ bought a flannel shirt. haaaaahaaa

LJ met me and JJ went nicely home. and i had to call my mom to book me a flight the next afternoon back to spokane.

all because he lost his passport.
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