Blonde Moment #387

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

It's been a while since I've told you any of my ridiculous stories. I was going along being normal for so long that I forgot what it's like to pull an Angie. Thankfully I remedied that situation and once again have a reason to laugh at myself...

Yesterday I was jonesing for some Thai food and our normal Thai place was closed, so I ordered takeout over the phone from another restaurant that I've been to before but don't frequent as much. I drove to the place when my food was going to be ready. This restaurant is in a little strip mall, so I park in front and walk to the door. I have to walk a little farther than I thought I had to, but think that I must have just misjudged my choice of parking spots. I walk in, look around, and notice the decor consists of bright blues, reds, oranges, and yellows. We're talking vibrant colors here. Odd, I think, but I just assume they changed the look. Then I see the "specials" board advertising soft tacos. Our normal Thai place randomly also sells fish & chips, so I don't think too much of this Thai restaurant selling soft tacos. There's no one at the front counter, so I have time to look around some more and notice a painting on the front door (that I had just walked through), which says "Felize Navidad". I literally thought, "Wow, how multicultural of them". It wasn't until I was approached by a Mexican server that I realized I was not in the right restaurant. I was so turned around and baffled by my loss of reality that I actually had to ask for directions to the Thai place.

Granted, I did have some impetus for my blond moment. As I had been parking, I was doing a semi-terrible job of it and a couple of guys stopped on the sidewalk to gawk at me. No joke. Feeling slightly embarrassed that anyone had seen me make such a mess out of a simple parking job, I got out of the car and just started walking. I somehow was following the guys who stopped and was desperately hoping that we weren't going to end up in the same place. Unfortunately, I just followed them right into their restaurant, completely bypassing mine. I was definitely groaning inside when I realized we both needed to go to the same place. And then I just made an even bigger ass of myself and ended up looking like I was trailing them on purpose when I suddenly made a mad dash for the door after having to ask for directions to the restaurant RIGHT NEXT DOOR.

Don't you wish you were me?

What. Are. The. Odds!

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

So remember this post? The one just three days ago where I erroneously thought I woke up late? The one that made my heart start racing and my adrenaline flowing? The one I was so thankful was just a false alarm?

Well think again, because IT. REALLY. HAPPENED!!!

Yesterday morning I managed to sleep through not one, but two alarms! I always set two alarms (it's a system I have-- too long to explain) so that I am guaranteed to wake up. Apparently in my sleep I must have turned them off and not realized what I had done. I pried my eyes open a little after 6:20 and panicked when I saw that I had exactly 10 minutes until I had to leave. For the second time in several days, I jumped out of bed, running full speed around my room. I was almost doing laps in my haste to get ready. I decided to prioritize my needs and firmly believed a shower was in order. Again, the hair wasn't looking so hot. Generally it doesn't.

I will gladly announce here that I am quite proud of myself for being damn good at getting ready under pressure. I managed to take a shower, get dressed, brush my teeth, do my hair (minus drying it, which would have taken 20 minutes itself-- no joke) grab my lunch and breakfast for the road in UNDER 10 MINUTES! Yes people, I am good.

However, to be fair, one of my friends pointed out that this success may not count because I had a practice run just a couple days prior. I still maintain though that I did an excellent job. I may have known to not waste time throwing off my pajamas and putting them back on before exiting my room, but that small advantage didn't gain me more than a minute. I would have still been right at 10 minutes even with that penalty time added.

You may applaud now. I know you're dying to.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

False Alarm

Sunday, November 23, 2008

I wish you guys could be me for a day so that you could see how absolutely ridiculous I am. Until that is a possibility, I just have to tell you stories and let you imagine it.

This morning I was having a not so pleasant dream about a big storm and fire that were rocking the area. For some reason, I was with my dad and siblings and we had to evacuate the house. We went to some vacation rental/store that had a lot of couches for us to sleep on. We all fell asleep late that night. I woke up the next morning, looked at the clock, and realized that I was hours late for work. For those of you who know me, you understand that I am never late. Ever. I think it's plain rude. I panicked in my dream and started rushing around trying to figure out how I was going to get to work.

At this point, I woke up in real life and rolled over in bed to go back to sleep. That's when I noticed that my clock said 6:40, which is 10 minutes past the time I normally leave for work. My heart leaped in my chest and I lurched out of bed, running on pure adrenaline. I ran to turn on the light, threw off my pajamas and started scrambling in my closet for clothes for work, all the while rehearsing what I was going to say when I called in to say I was going to be late to work. I then caught a glimpse of my hair in the mirror and literally said out loud to myself, "Sh*t, I have to take a shower!" I start to dash for the door to my room when I realized that I had to put something on in case Jess happened to be in the hallway at that moment. I shot back to my pj's, quickly pulled them on, not caring that they were backwards and inside out. Fully covered at that point, I run back to my door and have my hand on the knob when I come to the realization that today is SUNDAY! Sunday! As in sleep in day. As in lay in bed all morning reading day. As in I don't have to set the freakin' alarm because I don't have to get up day!

There was no way I was getting back to sleep after working myself into such a tizzy. I crawled back into bed (after adjusting my pajamas) and have been reading and emailing all morning. I would also like to make a side note for those of you concerned about my apparent lack of church going. My church offers a Saturday night service in addition to several on Sunday morning. I tend to go to the Saturday night one so that I am able to lay in bed on Sundays. I love my lazy mornings. Assuming they aren't started at a freakishly early hour by my ridiculous mind. Don't you wish you were me?

Freak of Nature

Thursday, November 20, 2008

That's me all right. Uncoordinated klutz who's everyday stories are ridiculous yarns spun only from the truth. Which brings me to last night...

I was up late working on designing my Christmas card for this year (more to come on that soon). I went to bed around 11:30, which anyone can tell you is definitely late for me. I fell asleep quickly but was woken an hour later by my body violently choking... on my own spit. That's right people, I somehow managed to inhale spit while I was sleeping and thank the Lord that he created a good cough reflex. I coughed and I sputtered. I sat up in bed and gasped for air. I reached for the glass of water always at the ready on my bedside (for such emergencies) and gulped half of it down. I calmed down some but my heart was still racing and I was still coughing, so I got up and made myself tea and watched an episode of Pushing Dasies. Which is actually something I might have been doing, thanks to my unruly spit. Lame joke, I know.

I went back to bed and fell asleep again. I woke two hours later with a sharp pain shooting down my leg. This was definitely no charlie horse. Oh no, it felt like my leg had gone past falling asleep, past any sort of cramping, and had decided to instead stage a mutiny from my body. Instinctively in my sleep addled brain I somehow knew that I had to get blood moving to my leg. I threw myself over the side of my bed, picked myself up off the floor, and proceeded to jog-walk in place next to my bed. My eyes stayed closed to allow myself the denial that I was truly awake but my racing heart told no lies. The more I jog-walked, the better my leg felt but the more my hope of sleep left me. I plopped back in bed and tried valiantly to slumber for the next hour before my alarm went off, but occasionally my leg would twinge up and I would have to shake it around in bed to get it to stop. That's right, I was like a sleeping dog last night who dreams of catching his rabbit and acts it out with leg twitches.

So I sit here in my reading chair right now, tired beyond belief, yet trying to delay the inevitable bedtime. I don't know what tonight will bring and I somewhat dread the stories I may have to tell you tomorrow. So until then, I bid you goodnight. I'm off to practice safe sleep.

Mocku-miracle

Monday, September 22, 2008

So I have started out this post several times now but have erased everything because every time I try to write something funny, it comes out sacrilegious. Not that I really have that much of a problem with irreverence, but I feel like I really don't want something I might regret saying out there on the big wide web. I will keep my lips sealed and won't mention any of my super funny jokes about about our mocku-miracle.

It all started with a candle that decided to somehow completely melted in half. We didn't see what was happening for quite a while, so this is the resulting puddle. You will be happy to know that Henry, who was right under it, got only the merest dribble of wax on his fur.



We spent meticulous minutes taking it off all in once piece only to have it break in two. I don't know why it was important to have one piece, but it was. We resigned ourselves to our two pieced result and were trying to figure out what the pieces each looked like when I suggested that one of them looked like an angel. This is Jess' reaction.



You cannot tell me that you don't think this is angelic. It's a miracle! A Mocku-miracle!



Those other pictures were taken last night when it was dark out, so I had to get one of our little Gabriel with a heavenly glow about him in the light of day.



You can see his beautiful waxy flow here.



If you all doubt us and think that we are making this up, we do have a third party verification. Tim, our new favorite friend (I don't think he knows that yet), was there and witnessed the entire thing. He said he will testify for us in a court of law. Well, maybe he didn't say that, but I'm sure he would if we made him.

Squirrel Boobies

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Today's entry is a guest blog from my Mom. Really, it was from an email she sent me, but I thought it was so great/awful that I had to repost it. Jack is our dog at home who is a rather largish dog. Thanks Mama!

So then we finally get home. A squirrel was trotting along the fence between Tyler's and us. Jack noticed the squirrel, too, but didn't do his usual 'let-me-at-'em. Pretended that it was just fine that a squirrel was on our property. So I let Jack into the back yard. Before I could shut the gate, Jack took off like a rocket...really...straight up. He cleared the top of the fence. But not to jump over it. He jumped up and caught the squirrel in his mouth as cleanly as an eagle catches fish with one dive. You should have heard the racket from Mrs. squirrel. I was just horrified! Jack ran all over the yard with said squirrel clamped between his teeth, and I swear he was grinning the whole time. He bashed the little creature on the ground and threw it on the grass. Then he'd pounce on it again and bash it some more. I was nearly in tears. I told Jack to bring me the squirrel and he DID! Trotted over with the thing in his mouth and put it down where I indicated. Jack was grinning and being a dog and the ol' tail was a-wagging...I am proud of myself for not yelling at him as he really was just being a dog and showing me his treasure. He did express consternation when I pointed for him to go back to the back yard. I slammed the gate and went to inspect said squirrel. It was a Mrs. I know this because of the tiny boobies that were full of milk. And we know that only Mrs. have babies. So I'm in mourning still as there is a batch of babies somewhere, waiting for mama to come back to feed them. Crummy world we live in sometimes.

Mrs. squirrel it still where Jack left her. On the grass between Tyler's and our house. It's lying on it's back, waiting for Larry to deal with it. Yes. I'm being a girl here, but I just can't for the life of me pick it up to dispose of it.

Pranking Inspectors

Monday, August 25, 2008

Two disclaimers: All of these pictures are just straight out of the camera and of poor quality. Mainly because I am laughing too hard to do anything else. Also, if you're a male and squeamish at the thought of girl's underwear, just close your browser now. Don't even go here.

So tomorrow is the annual inspection of the apartments here. Jess and I decided to have a little fun with the people who will be in our home tomorrow. We won't be here, but have laughed hysterically at the thought of being the person to walk in on this. Her reenactment is below.


Knowing that Henry has scared people in the past, we took it a step further and moved him right next to the front door. Yes people, this close. I really wish I could be here for the moment that door opens.


Then we took it even further and decided that it would be mighty awkward for a guy (or girl) to walk in on underwear strewn all over the place. We took some and just threw them all over the apartment. Any of our friends from Bellingham might recognize a few key pieces. (Hey fellow Pretty Panty Exchangers).










I am only showing you a very small amount of the underwear thrown about. However, I had to absolutely highlight this last picture because it is a wonderful tableau. Those have got to be the absolute worst pair of granny panties anyone has ever seen, right? I had to dig down really far in the drawer for that one. And then there's the wonderful little number I received as a gift about 7 years ago that really has never seen use. I thought it would be a nice little vignette for the person walking in on Henry. Yes? Yes.

Ouchy Awkwardness

Saturday, August 23, 2008

For those of you not in the know, I was in a rollover car accident three years ago, injured my neck & shoulder, and was in chiropractic & massage therapy for 6 months afterwards. Since that time, I have continued to go see a massage therapist every month or two to maintain the mobility that took forever to regain. However, time just slipped away from me and I haven't had a massage for about five months now. Knowing that I needed to go back, I scheduled an appointment with someone who works in the same office as my regular therapist but who I had never been to before. Going to a new therapist is always a crapshoot because you just never know what you are going to get and how your body will react to their touch. Believe me, not everyone's techniques work for every patient.

I sure found out quickly that this lady has got to like running torture chambers in her spare time. She poked and pounded and prodded me until I almost screamed in agony. But call me a masochist, because it really does feel a lot better. I will be going back to her soon.

Now, if you've ever had a massage, I'm sure that like me, you have wanted to giggle at some point. Maybe they hit a ticklish spot. Maybe whatever they were doing to you seemed absolutely ridiculous. Maybe you full frontal flashed a male masseuse (Jess' true story). Maybe they leaned over too far when standing near your the top of you and your head became encased in their boobs (my true story). But whatever it is that makes you want to giggle, there can't be that many that beat mine today.

I was laying on the table facedown with my arms at my sides, palms up. My massuse was working on some part of my back, completely tearing apart all muscle structure and piecing it back together where it should go. I was in agony and lay there trying not to whimper, when suddenly she goes for some long reaching strokes and leans over my body. My hand was at the side of the table and as she reached across, her body moved closer, causing her crotch to jump right into my hand. That's right, I cupped my masseuse's bits. At that point my mind was whirling. Do I move my hand and acknowledge what just happened? Or does she not realize that she's right on top of my hand and that will only make it more awkward? What was I to do? Luckily she changed positions soon thereafter, leaving me to try to not tense up from holding in my mirth.

Seriously? That just happened? How does this stuff always happen to me?

Popping Out Of A Cake

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Oh my word, I have the best coworkers. Ever. We always celebrate birthdays with a cake. Basically we'll use any reason to have a treat. This time around, there was a joke circulating that we were going to get Warehouse Boy to pop out of our accountant's cake. Someone came up with the idea that since popping out of a cake was not really feasible, we should put his picture on it instead. They decided that his head should go on Borat's body, so they asked me to work a little Photoshop magic and make it look real. So I did, and this is what it turned out as:


Note, the background is supposed to be blue water, but for some reason it didn't turn out like that when they sprayed the picture on the cake.

These are the reactions of my coworker when she saw her cake. The pictures are unedited and a little blurry because I realized I had accidentally put it on the wrong setting when I was taking them.



In the next two, you can see Warehouse Boy leaning against the side of the door grinning. He loved it.


Don't you wish you worked somewhere where a picture like that was not only ok, but encouraged?! I love my job.

Condom Mission #1 Completed

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Jess found the hidden condom. In public. I hid it in her folded up dollar bills so that when she pulled them out to pay for something, it would go flying. And it certainly did. She was paying for a gatorade during a pit stop on a bike ride this morning.

She called and left me a message after the event. I called her back and left a message of me just laughing. Tee hee. I do so like pulling little pranks.

Hmmm... what to do next....

Present

Friday, August 8, 2008

This is what Jess got me on her trip:




Yes, she did.

You are wondering why, right? Me too.

Obviously it won't be put to it's traditional use (the whole good-girl-Christian-no-sex-til-marriage thing), but you can bet it will make appearances where she really wouldn't want it to be found. Oh, I have some good spots that I used when we were in college. Let's just say that you can readily get free ones in multiples places at WWU. Not that we did that or anything for supplies for pranks. Because obviously "It" was never talked about. Jess definitely didn't have roommates freshman year that had a poster displaying 100 different types. And we most certainly didn't have to sit through a class in our teaching program where a fellow student's first lesson was demonstrating proper useage. If we had sat through such a class, we would have had a hard time not giggling. So it's a good thing that totally didn't happen.

Hmmm... where to hide this first...

Conversation with God

Friday, July 25, 2008

Dear God,

Why did you make me so uncoordinated? I don't understand what you were trying to do. Do you just like to sit there and laugh as I maim myself? Because I didn't see any angels coming to break my fall as I bit it on the concrete steps here at work a few minutes ago. I was just trying to walk upstairs. That's all. I wasn't trying to hurt them or taunt them or any of those things that people may try to do to stairs and all of a sudden they reached out and grabbed my foot. I went flying and of course banged up a knee and bent a toe the wrong way. And it had to be on the leg I already seriously injured. It really wasn't nice of those stairs. God, why do you like to watch me fall? I don't get it. I really would prefer to stay upright and intact at all time. If you could arrange that, it would be really appreciated. Thanks.

Amen,
Angie

Pain & Failure

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

So this was supposed to be another recipe post. Unfortunately, it didn't work out quite like I had hoped. Often I will get a particular ingredient in my head and then create an entire dish around it. Sometimes, like last night, I can't get to sleep because I'm creating a recipe in my head. This morning I woke up sleep deprived with a foggy brain. All day long I felt like I was moving at the speed of a snail and I couldn't seem to get my coordination together. I listed to the right as I walked. (Side note: I ALWAYS list to the right if I'm going to list while walking. Never left. I guess I'm not an ambi-lister, much like Zoolander isn't an ambi-turner). I dropped things. I forgot important details. Oh, so not fun.

But the worst was one particular time I was getting our of my chair. Since I sit at the front desk due to lack of receptionist and being only female downstairs, everyone in the company feels like they have free reign to use everything in my desk. I normally don't mind and it's not a big deal, but today someone grievously injured me with their carelessness. After retreiving a pen from my drawer, they didn't close it all the way. I didn't notice, swiveled in my chair suddenly to make a mad dash somewhere (always making mad dashes), quickly stood, and slammed my thigh into the corner of the drawer. Now, these are metal drawers with some seriously sharp edges, so the pain was instantaneous and strong. I fell back in my seat in agony and praticed my Lamaze for future birthing scenes. You never really can get enough practice. After a few minutes I could finally see straight and was able to close the drawer and get up to make a slow crawl to my destination. It wasn't until an hour later that I discovered the damage: a long deep wound with blood all over my leg and a bruised lump the size of a tennis ball. With the amount of blood there was, I am so surprised it didn't go through my jeans. I can't believe how much I hurt myself these days.

Anyway, this evening I was going to make a dish for dinner centered around andouille, a cajun sausage. I had been jonesing for it last night and it was the source of my sleeplessness, so I was going to have to make it or I would not last another day at work. If I didn't get sleep tonight, I would hate to see what I would do tomorrow. Probably stab my eye out in some freak white board pen accident. I went to Safeway for the sausages and to pick up a few other things, but Safeway DIDN'T HAVE THE ANDOUILLE! Just kill me now. I decided to go with a Portugese sausage that I hadn't ever used before. Bad bad move on my part. Once I tasted it, I had to completely rework the recipe concept in my head to fit with the new flavor profile. I was able to do a few subsitutions, but the bulk of the recipe ended up staying the same. It was, in one word... gross. I still ate it because the majority of the ingredients were tasty, but that sausage was horrific. I am such a sausage girl and have never met one I didn't like (I don't mean that in the dirty way that just made me giggle inside), but this one was disgusting. I'm still gagging at the thought. Needless to say, I will not be posting this recipe. I do not wish for you to want to throw up your dinner.

Here's to hoping that tomorrow's a safe and tasty one...

Brain Dump

Monday, June 30, 2008

So here it is, a little past 1 am and I am wide awake. As in WIDE awake. I am not tired in the least. My brain just won't shut off so I'm going to do a brain dump in the hopes of clearing it all out. Here's what I've been thinking about (don't laugh, well actually you may because it's rather silly):

- I hear the fire alarm from the apartment complex over. It's been going on for THREE hours now. Am I the only one who can hear this? Why does it not stop?

- (Background info: My work email is all forwarded to my gmail account. I also am the contact person for several job openings we have out there at the moment.) When I got on the computer I had an email someone had just sent about a question for a job opening we have at work. Who on earth is at their computer this time of night? Oh wait...

- I can't wait to work at the Bellevue Festival of the Arts again this year. I've worked there for the past 11 years. I wonder what I'm going to buy there this year. Last year I got my square ring. Do I want another ring? But maybe I should get a print for our living room wall. Jess really would prefer for Christina's World to be gone. Maybe I'll do it as a surprise for her.

- Why are the sprinklers so loud? I hate the sound of them. Only at night though. They make me anxious. But why do I hate them? That doesn't make sense. I love the sound of the trains. But I guess trains and sprinklers aren't the same. Combined with that fire alarm, I am about ready to stuff toilet paper in my ears.

- I wish my sweetpeas weren't dying. The heat is too much for them. I just got them at the Farmer's Market yesterday and now they're wilting. Aren't they pretty though? (Pre-wilt)





I do so love those canning jars we use as drinking glasses (and impromptu vases). I love using things for purposes they weren't intended for.

- Is that silence I hear? What happened to the fire alarm? Did someone finally realize the building wasn't burning down and the firetrucks weren't going to come? Wow. Weird.

- Am I spending enough time with God?

- I don't really want to be a professional photographer. It would totally take the fun out of it. And it would mean I would have to learn all that technical stuff about it. I just don't care enough to do that. But I want some new lenses for my camera. Do I have the money or should I wait?

-How tired am I going to be tomorrow? Is staying up like this going to make me sick? When am I going to be able to get to sleep? Why the really odd insomnia? It's not like I'm feeling super hot and sticky or anything. (I swear that's the truth, even though it might have come out sarcastically.)

- The Roomie is leaving in two days for a mission trip to the Ukraine. I get the place to myself for over a month! YIPPEE!

- I really want to make a layer cake. But I don't have anyone or anything to make it for. Would it be weird to make it for myself? But then what on earth do I do with the rest of it when I obviously won't be able to eat it?

- What can I do with the bulgar I have sitting in my cupboard? Is there a salad I can whip up? Hmmm... maybe it's time to foodblogsearch it.

- Maybe I should read something boring to see if I fall asleep. Ok Bible, here I come... (TOTALLY joking with that one)

- Well, actually, maybe I really should go read my Bible.

I Lied

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Apparently I lied when I said that I didn't cut myself in The Fall yesterday. Just this morning I happened to look down at my pinkie toe and noticed dried blood all over it. Not sure if I randomly somehow cut myself in my sleep (it wouldn't have been surprising with my track record) or if it did indeed happen during the incident, I went back to the carpet to check for evidence. Sure enough, I found blood spots in a couple of places. I guess all the pain from my behind was overwhelming any auxiliary pain from the extremities. I checked the toe out further and found that some carpet fuzzies had stuck to it. I'm just glad that I didn't end up cutting the whole toe off because I'm not sure I would have noticed until today. Because yes, the pain was and is that bad. At least this time I didn't have to improvise a bandage...