I knew this would happen. Pop
up holiday event for a client
who wanted a rock n'roll theme.
Custom built entrance trellis,
rock idol step & repeats, custom
guitar bar, drumsticks as center
pieces.
My department did a $25 limit Secret Santa holiday party today. My belly is full.
Here's how Secret Santa is supposed to work, people.
You write down something that you want that costs under $25 and place it in a box with a pile of other ballots. The person who pulls your slip has to get your wish for you. I couldn't come up with anything I needed so I wrote "hygiene kits for the homeless" and underneath that, I listed various items for the kits like toilet tissue, toothpaste, etc. I was hoping my Secret Santa would find it kind of fun to choose what they wanted to go in the kits. Maybe they'd even want to do it again on their own.
Unfortunately, my Secret Santa turned out to be Sandra, a 64 year old hoochie mama who thinks she's still 25, aka the laziest receptionist in the universe. Instead of doing any of that, she just gave me $25 in cash.
Sigh.
I've donated most of my shoes but I still have one very full closet to go. I've been using this free instant sale app called Wallapop. Basically you take a photo of the item you're selling, the first person who responds wins, and you meet them somewhere for the sale. It's a pretty swanky app, really. Just time consuming. So let's try this... I have 4 pairs of almost new shoes available, size US 6.5 regular. Each pair is free to a good home as long as you (1) take care of it, and (2) will actually wear it. If you're in the US, I'll ship them for free. If you live halfway around the damn world, you'll have to spring for shipping.
Unless you live in Japan, in which case we can arrange to meet somewhere.
I handled the communication piece for my company's new employee uniforms. Over 2,500 employees will receive new uniforms tomorrow. I set up a photo shoot for a few employees to model the new uniforms and created a wall cling (poster that sticks to the wall) from it. It's gonna be complete mayhem in the wardrobe department tomorrow. But I'm kinda proud of the final outcome, actually.
The photographer used me for test shots without telling me. Each time I looked up into a giant camera lens, I was thinking "Where did I put that damned file?".
But that's not why I'm in a mood.
I can't wear a bra yet because it makes my tattoo burn.
That's not why I'm in a mood.
My period is acting like Satan's bathwater this month. But that's not why I'm in a mood.
I had to share a vendor table with her at an event today. She kept telling clients that my side of the table was so cold that they would need a sweater to talk to me.
I'm tired of that bitch calling me an Ice Queen. Just because I don't sleep around like she does.
So I advised them to liberally apply antibacterial gel to every exposed part of their bodies and be sure their prescriptions were up to date before approaching her side.
At which point she happened to cough, which led me into a tirade about sexually transmitted diseases starting the zombie apocalypse.
Why does she continue to force me to humiliate her?
I'm like Zod and she's like Otis.
Just kneel before Zod, bitch.
Ssshhh. Just take it.
Smh.
I swear imma beat that bitch with a bat.
I'm going to 7-11 to get a slurpee. I swear to God, if they're out of the red pop flavor, imma swing a bitch.
Aww YEAH. Kickin' the Detroit old skool basement house beats, homie!!!
OMG. Detroit use to have these basement parties on Fridays. This is the real beginning of house music. (Don't argue with me. I have proof.) Everyone would be dancing or eating or laughing or a combination of all three. The neighborhood kids would mingle with the older folks who were usually down there drinking out of those red plastic cups and playing cards or dice together. Usually using one of those folding card tables. And the air would be thick with smoke from the combination of cigarettes and the catfish the homeowner was frying for everyone.
OMG I can still smell it. It was hot and dark and it was always packed wall-to-wall. But people were peaceful and happy and the music was amazing. Even an FOB 10 year old with a stupid bowl haircut who couldn't go anywhere without her chaperon brother could blend in. It was always either really old school like Marvin Gaye or Rufus, or house beats like this one.
Well. That was certainly a rant to end all rants. What was my point?
Ah. yes. I'm still going to beat that bitch with a bat.
I'll take a pic and post it if I get up the nerve.
I went alone and cried like a bitch. I kept my hand clasped over my mouth the whole time because I was sobbing like a baby. The tattoo guy was very nice and massaged my back and gave me a break every few minutes. I'm not a pain wuss. I swear. I think I just need a little meat on my bones. The tattoo is on my rib cage/side boob area, and each little stick felt like the needle was literally punching through my rib cage and out the other side.
The first night was a nightmare. My sheets were soaked from sweating & my entire body was sore (it took a while to walk down the stairs to go pee).
Stuff the cool kids don't tell you.
Right now it sort of feels like a centralized fire. And it itches. And I'm going alone to Punta Cana this weekend solely for swimming. Swimming in salt water. Great plan.
It feels slimy and gross so the tattoo guy promised to clean/put the cream stuff on it every day after work for me. He's holding up his end of the bargain so far. It was nice of him to offer - should I offer to pay him for the extra care?
This song is for the coward who abandoned me when I needed him most. After all this time, I still can't believe I trusted you implicitly.
I was just going to post a few lines, but I couldn't find a specific set of lyrics that are more apropos than another. Every single line describes exactly how I feel.
My sister made this meme of
my mom and posted it for
every relative in the
universe. She thinks
it's funny. I think imma
punch her in the face.
Okay, ladies. The boys are distracted for a bit. Let's talk real talk.
Let's talk about period blood flow. Does your period ever flake out on you? This month, mine came a full week late. Further proof that my mother was actually right, and that my eggs really are drying up. Which means I need to pop some grandkids out within the next couple of years.
And here's another question... On the 2nd night (which is, as you know, the worst night, right?) I got home really late from work. I ate some popcorn, took a shower and passed out in my bath towel. I literally could not wake myself up enough to get up and put on a pad. I actually mumbled, "Oh, PLEASE don't mess up these sheets. I love these sheets.... ZZzzzzzzzz..."
Guess what...I woke up the next morning and...nothing.
So what does this mean, leadies? Is it physiological? Is period flow a mind-over-matter thing? Omg.
Oh, speaking of controlling our bodily functions, there's this new app called RunPee.
So you know how you go to the movies and right when the good part is starting, you have to go pee? It's a big fiasco. Well there's this sweet new app called RunPee. This app is badass, ladies. You tell the app what movie you're watching, the app syncs with the movie and then tells you the best times to go pee. Omg, right??
I supposed I could've shared the RunPee tip with the guys, but...honestly, screw the guys. They pee standing up.
Next thing: Two years ago my friends paid a male dancer to pull me on stage for my birthday. I was pissed at them - mostly humiliated that they paid for it, and he poured hot wax on me after I told him not to. I learned after that there's a special wax for kinky stuff...this wasn't it. My chest was red and sore for a while after. So I kinda lashed out at him by calling him a name. As mentioned in a previous post, I saw him again last year, and he definitely remembered me.
I saw him again two days ago at this snobby neighborhood supermarket that I usually stay away from. The customers are really snobby. Even the cashiers have attitudes. But it's the only place that sells my favorite bottle of moscato. Apparently, he lives in the neighborhood. And for whatever reason still remembers that I called him a name. Is that odd, or am I wrong? He must get insulted at least once in a while on the job.
I mean...he is short. He's like 2'4". Okay, not really.
So I apologized with more humility this time and explained that I was really angry with my friends and took my anger out on him.
Missin' N'awlins.
Then he went into this whole rant about how his new girlfriend is twice as hot as me and how she knows how "f*ckin' big" he really is.
I was standing behind him in the check out line while he continued his rampage. I was so confused. I think I might have dropped my shopping basket. lol
*shrug*
So now I feel even worse. I feel bad for calling him a name, which was childish and careless, and then for getting him all riled up again the other day. Should I have left it alone?
Speaking of strippers. ladies...Magic Mike XXL.
Two words.
Cheetos. And water.
You're welcome.
Illegal in-movie recording. #loveit
Yeah, I've seen it twice. Jealous?
If you're in the metro Detroit area, there's a new shoe store in Madison Heights that sells pretty pumps for...TEN DOLLARS!! Omg. I still managed to spend $82 there. They have men's shoes, too. I'd tell the guys but...screw the guys. They pee standing up.
Next question. Why do we have to work harder than men to be acknowledged at work? I mean REAL acknowledgement. Like pay raises or inclusion.I have 5 huge projects happening right now that I'm solely responsible for. I'm planning/executing every facet of:
employee talent show (next week)
employee lunch with the CEO (tomorrow)
employee health fair w/26 vendors (two weeks)
managers' yacht cruise for 200 managers and +1s (Monday)
...I can't even remember what else atm
All of this involves all sorts of communication, branding, posting, phone calls, triple counts, and don't even get me started on the yacht fiasco.
The only cool thing about not having time for friends is that my phone stays charged for days. Waking up to a phone on an almost full battery when you didn't charge it is like a small little win for the day. Sigh.
A coworker in another department and I report to the same exec. He's constantly in the exec's face. He'll resolve some little issue, like helping an employee fix something, and he'll spend hours in the exec's office bragging about what he did. He interrupts my meetings with the exec, he sits down at our lunch table and talks about his day. It's really obvious, and I'm not sure why the exec puts up with it.
Other than because he's a guy?
Seriously. If we did that - stalked our bosses and complained about our days - we'd be seen as whiny, moody, high-maintenance.
But my coworker? In the past year, he's received a raise, an employee recognition and a promotion.
Double standard, ladies. Seriously. Wtf.
A guy I use to be interested in had a girlfriend all along. How'd I find out? Cause I'm a stalker.
SMH. He was lying the whole time.
Well, he's a guy. So...yeah.
I can't stand my BFF's boyfriend. He's cheated on her numerous times. All of his friends are fully aware of his shenanigans. And he's sort of blatant about it.
Exhibit A
Boyfriend has a motorcycle accident and is taken to the hospital. One friend contacts my BFF, unaware that another friend has contacted the other girlfriend. Both show up at the hospital, and fireworks ensue. Boyfriend pleads with BFF to take him back, and - to my befuddlement - she does.
BFF and boyfriend go on vacay, and BFF complains to me that boyfriend texts someone else the whole time. And he only posts pictures of himself or with other tourists - not with her. Turns out he was texting the other girlfriend the whole trip and adding that he was on vacation with his buddies...not the BFF.
Exhibit C
He's been in and out of jail, he's in a gang, He has way too many guns - all illegal. He has a stupid temper.
I can't stand him. And she's well aware of that fact. She knows I want to twist his testicles into balloon animals. So she keeps us separate. Which sucks because I lose my best friend for a lot of the time.
I don't care that he's 6'2" or brags about his auto-whatever guns. I'm not afraid of him, and it only takes one second for me to go from 0 to 60 when I'm in protective mode. I'd like to say I stole that trait from my Father, but alas, it's all my mother's. She's like a little chihuahua.
But it's the BFF's life. Not mine. It's her fate to make.
Yesterday at lunch, I asked her for the hundredth time to help me understand why an insanely beautiful, strong willed, independent, smart woman like her would ever want to be bothered with this clown.
And then she gave me "the look". It's the look she gives me when she has to explain something about the world to me. Finally, she got all exasperated and said, "...because he has a big d*ck."
When you wake up in the morning in a strange bed and double-check your reflection in your phone and realize you look like a cross between Basquiat and Gojira...
Been up all night. Literally. So I got up to go pee at like 1:30am. I stumbled down the stairs and sat on the toilet and peed while scratching my belly with one eye open.
Hot, right?
So I glanced around at nothing in particular and noticed what appeared to be a teeny black ball of lint stuck to the wall under the towel. I immediately dismissed it as lint from one of my towels. Two seconds later, my brain finally woke up and I said aloud, "Wait...I don't have any black towels!"
What happened next was all slo-mo that would put John Woo to shame.
I blew at it. And it pimpwalked away. It PIMP WALKED AWAY!
It was a damn SPIDER.
I screamed loud enough that my neighbor turned on her light, I did some weird floppy dance on the toilet seat, the jar of cotton balls on the shelf fell on my head, I broke my favorite shower curtain when I used it for leverage, I jerked back because I thought all the cotton balls were spiders, so I peed all over the seat...sigh. And this all happened within maybe 5 seconds.
OMG.
What's worse, I had to pass the spot where I first spotted the spider...which, btw, had suddenly disappeared...to leave the bathroom.
OMG.
So I've spent the rest of tonight cleaning the entire house. Sweep-mop-scrub-spray-repeat. I sprayed spider spray along the base of every wall and every crevice in this house. I poured 99% ethyl alcohol into a spray bottle and sprayed the hell out of the windows..
The entire time, I've been holding this aggressive (albeit one sided) discussion with the now long-gone baby spider, repeating the same two phrases for the past 3 hours:
"Oh, no you didn't!"
and
"Don't lemme find yo azz!"
I messed up the thing that goes under the rug in the den. I threw all my downstairs closet shoes onto the patio. I'll spray them tomorrow.
I'm high as hell right now, but I'd rather die from fumes than from death by 1000 spider bites.
That's spider murder.
And, okay yeah, maybe was just a little spider. But where there's one little baby spider, there's a whole nest of his brothers and sisters not far away just waiting to find and kill your ass.
Was in serious need of a double chocolate cupcake, so I stopped by the new cupcake place on the way home. Chatted with a nice lady there, found out she's obsessed with shopping at Marshall's. I'm not a Marshall's fan. I can never find anything in that store. It's total mayhem. The women's sweaters are usually in electronics or baby clothes or something.
I asked her to wait right where she was for a moment, and ran out to my car. (Tripped over the snow, of course.) Found what I was looking for under the back seat (along with my hair clip...wtf), ran back inside. Gave her the $25 Marshall's gift card I won at a baby shower last week.
Third day of below 0 temps. Hot water pipes are frozen, so I boiled water to clean the kitchen. Can't get the house temp above 65. The house is making weird popping noises. I think it's the foundation settling. This is like a zombie apocolypse where everything starts shutting down.
Ran to the grocery store for coffee filters at 7am in -11 degrees (that's -21 C).
Car wouldn't start in the store lot. Tried 3 times. Sounded like the alternator. Pulled out the tow truck card from my wallet, tried the car again while waiting forever for them, engine finally turned over.
Got into an argument with an Indian Amurrkan guy in the Starbucks drive thru. Way too cold to get out and make him bleed. I'm from the hood, yo. But I'm cold, yo.
Came home to a stream of water coming through the living room window I think from melting icicles outside...maybe because the sun was out? Moved the furniture away, stuck a bucket and newspaper underneath, walked back to the store, wanted caulk sealant but they only had rustoleum. While waiting for the leak to stop, ate rice, flipped through the channels, settled on some james brown documentary, slept on the couch all day, just woke up at 9:30pm with the my Afro ponytail on full display for any poor soul looking in, had a pee, flipped through more channels, found bill Murray singing to a shark (?), realized I'd missed TWD, screamed, debated on watching Talking Dead because they tell you who died.
Okay, I had to let all that out somewhere. Maybe Japan is a good thing. Independence isn't always what's it's cracked up to be. I could suffer a head of household and labor pains if it meant never having to walk to a store in -21C again. Your reading all that is your good deed for the day. Or the week. You've just received like 300 karma points. And some of you need it!
Trying something new. I'm going to write a random thought on a post-it note every day this week. This will force me to blog something every day.
Well, this should be a hot rambling mess.
MONDAY
Okay. Who the hell put mint flavour in the damn chocolate muffins? Are you kidding me? This stresses me out. Attention Chocolate Companies: Stop mixing chocolate with mint. It's not a flavor. It's disgusting. These two ingredients belong way away from each other. They're like fire and ice. Seriously, who's responsible for this disgusting concoction? It's disrespectful to chocolate, it is.
One time I drove thru a new Starbuck's. I ordered my usual white chocolate mocha. I took my first sip as I got home and was walking through the kitchen. I gagged from the nasty shot of mint syrup some dweeb had added to my cup and barely made it to the sink to spit it out. Know what I did? I drove my ratty old car right back up to Starbuck's and went off. Apparently, the shot of mint was a "freebie". Really? Why would I want to brush my teeth while eating the heavenly perfection that is chocolate?? How DARE you, sir?
Stop it.
TUESDAY
Sometimes, we affect change simply by doing nothing. Change is imminent, and our immobility creates a sort of wormhole around the evolving currents. In effect, everything around us shifts about to make room for transition, but because we refuse to shift with them, they just find another way around. And our resistance anchors us to what once was, which will at some point be pushed out naturally. Like a splinter.
But evolution continues. It won't stop just because you glue your feet to the floor of your universe.
A bite from change can shoot enough venom into your veins to debilitate you. Movement caused by an evolution we weren't ready for can weigh enough to crack our frame and knock us about. Action --> Equal/opposite reaction.
But sometimes, change occurs and you push off and follow everything around you into that wormhole, but with the acceptance that all the floating pieces shifting about - bumping into you, scarring you, singeing your skin - it actually toughens your bones and shines up your shell.
Evolution can be the greatest exfoliant.
WEDNESDAY Just saw that. Okay, listen. Don't use what you know about my personal brand of ethics to try to manipulate me. Just because I believe in paying it forward and the tenacity of karma doesn't mean that throwing out phrases like "you owe me this" and "this is your debt" will work. Most likely, your transparent attempt at coercion will get you even less than you already had.
Dammit.
THURSDAY
I can scratch my butt by wiggling in my office chair, but then the arm handles poke me in the ribs.
FRIDAY
Tis the season for ridiculous jewelry commercials. Every third commercial is a guy proposing to a woman while shoving a gaudy diamond ring in her face. The basic message: "She won't marry you unless she sees a big rock." The women at work lose their damn minds when someone shows off a giant engagement ring. What's the obsession with diamonds? And why do women put so much importance on them? This is how I know I'm somehow broken. I've never wanted kids, and I've never wanted a diamond ring. I'll take a really pretty cubic zirconia any day. Who cares how much it's worth as long as it's pretty? The stone in my mom's wedding ring has been long gone. She never replaced it. She just wore it without the stone. Besides, I could invest the rest of that money in something important. Like shoes.
Oy vey...this one again.
In other news, I broke my booty shaking it to Bruno Mars' Uptown Funk all day. And my answer to everything today was, "Don't believe me? Just watch!" Kristyl came in and we closed the door and had a dance party. Also, I had to quickly lower my arms and get down from the chair when my boss walked by.
Seriously, how addictive is this song? It's got that swanky smooth 1980's Morris Day Jimmy Jam vibe.
So we were talking about how if you're super late, you may have to forego a full shower and take a "Whore's Bath". For visitors not in the know (and guys), a "Whore's Bath" is what you take when you don't have time for the real thing. You may be late for an appointment, or just lazy. (Urban Dictionary's version here.) So you substitute standing at the sink and washing the important body parts for an actual shower.
This sparked a debate about the variations of a Whore's Bath. Specifically, what constitutes a Whore's Bath? What are the parameters? For instance, what if you don't have any water? What if it's a really fancy bathroom? The scope of the matter, if you will. Heh.
Therefore, we, the Bathing Committee, have proposed and agreed upon the following terms and titles as they pertain to bathroom hygiene:
Swipe and Wipe
Moniker for "Whore's Bath", i.e., the act of washing oneself without the use or benefit of a continual stream of water (shower or bath), typically using a bathroom sink, requiring yoga-loke poses to complete the task.
French Whore's Bath
Foregoing the razor & shaving cream during a wash up, even if it's direly needed.
Hooker's Bath
Washing up using the sink in the room of a pay-per-hour motel room's bathroom.
Skank's Bath
Washing up using wet wipes.
8 Mile Road Bath
Using whiskey or vodka to clean your bullet wounds.
Skeevy Bath
Using another person's washcloth to wash up.
Call Girl's Bath
Washing up using upscale bath products; washing up while using the shower steam to unwrinkle your dress; washing up in a bathroom with a bidet.
The Morning After Bath
Washing up and then putting on makeup to pretend that you always look that way.
I Just Slept with a Murderer Bath
Running the shower while trying to exit via the bathroom window.
Standing in line with random groups
of strangers, pre-felony assault
In my defense, it happened inside a four story haunted house. The "world's largest haunted house", Erebus, to be exact. And I had just been buried alive - they lock you alone in a small closet in total darkness and pour those plastic balls over your head until they fill up the closet and you can't move or breathe. And also, a giant spider grabbed me and I turned and ran smack-dab into a wall and possibly blacked out. And also I think I peed a little crawling through a shaky tunnel to get away from an axe murderer. Lastly in my defense, the clown literally jumped out from the corner I was just about to turn into. He was covered in blood and tried to attack me with a hatchet. I could feel his breath on my cheek. That was too close. And I thought he might be a red spider. So I punched him. And simultaneously screamed in his face, and then said something like, "Now fade to black on that, bitch."
I don't know what that means. It just felt right.
Sigh. I may go to jail.
Listen. Fight or flight. It was either him or me. I saw him walk out of one of the emergency exits holding his nose. He'll be aiight.
1. No, I didn't have a baby. That is my late friend's baby, taken just after birth last December. The photo was posted for the baby's grandmother. The "don't, just don't" caption was added for Kristyl, who, I knew, would start up again with the "you should have a baby" thing.
2. The "wars & women" was tongue-in-cheek. I thought that was obvious, but I suppose it could also read as a serious rant. I do believe that men aren't always the best leaders. I believe that, in many ways, a man is weaker than a woman. Particularly with regards to physical burden (ever watch a man get a paper cut?), faithfulness and perception. I do think it's unfair that we have to carry the weight of everything "organic".
As I typed that last sentence, I paused to chug down two more Midol tablets...in honor of this fine day...a holy day...my favorite time of the month. Cramps Day.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to my bed to lay in the fetal position and cradle my stomach for the rest of the night.
Waiting backstage for my turn to go up. There's a reverend speaking now. He's good. Going to be hard to follow that.
It feels a little weird lecturing teen girls about living their lives when my life is so out of whack right now. I haven't wanted chocolate in a month. Not even on the first day of my period, which happened last week.
TMI? Yes. But really, who's reading?
I still get that same high at the podium, telling a story, and that one person who wasn't at all engaged suddenly smiles or tunes in because something I say hits home.
Not sure that I should post pictures of the girls. Like before, some of them are in sticky situations.
My family's over. My brother, his wife, my sister, her newborn, and a nest of little hellion womb-punchers. My head already hurts.
My mom will be here in a few hours.
Perfect timing, since my results for my DNA/genetic breakdown just arrived (ancestry.com). You can't see it here because I spliced everything together, but the "trace regions" breaks down to Chinese.
I've donated most of my shoes but I still have one very full closet to go. I've been using this free instant sale app called Wallapop. Basically you take a photo of the item you're selling, the first person who responds wins, and you meet them somewhere for the sale. It's a pretty swanky app, really. Just time consuming. So let's try this... I have 4 pairs of almost new shoes available, size US 6.5 regular. Each pair is free to a good home as long as you (1) take care of it, and (2) will actually wear it. If you're in the US, I'll ship them for free. If you live halfway around the damn world, you'll have to spring for shipping.
I've donated most of my shoes but I still have one very full closet to go. I've been using this free instant sale app called Wallapop. Basically you take a photo of the item you're selling, the first person who responds wins, and you meet them somewhere for the sale. It's a pretty swanky app, really. Just time consuming. So let's try this... I have 4 pairs of almost new shoes available, size US 6.5 regular. Each pair is free to a good home as long as you (1) take care of it, and (2) will actually wear it. If you're in the US, I'll ship them for free. If you live halfway around the damn world, you'll have to spring for shipping.
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