Tag Archives: Life

It’s a Happy Friday Beginning!

From time to time (In other words, EVERY stinkin’ day for me), things happen without my immediately realizing it, and when I DO finally figure it out, it confirms the fact that often, certain outside forces beat me at life….or something like that.

Almost every morning, on my normal workday rush, not only do I drive to work, but I also tend to call upon my multi-tasking skills and eat breakfast, plus do my makeup while in the car.  (Don’t be concerned….I have enough damn stoplights on my way in to work that there is plenty of time that I’m not actually in a moving vehicle while doing these things.  Okay, Mom?  DON’T…WORRY!)

This particular morning, I grabbed an ever-so-nutritious protein bar for breakfast.  This flavor was “Caramel Nut”, and included being half-way dipped into some sort of protein, caramel-flavored “icing”.  The stuff is DELICIOUS, so I ate it as quickly as a ravenous wolf! 

Commence with the makeup application! 

Some days, the brush drops into my lap, and I’m left with a bit of light shimmer on my pants.  It wipes off fairly easily.  I only fear the day that the brush drops underneath my seat, for my car will surely eat it, and I will never see it again!  At that point, I will only have my fingertips to apply my eye-shadow, and then I’ll undoubtedly “accidentally” wipe them off afterwards on something…like my seat….or shirt….or arm.  Probably my arm, just to see how many people notice that the streaks of color on my appendages make me look like a homeless chimney sweeper when I arrive to work.  At least then I could burst into song and start referring to my coworkers as “Mary Poppins”.  They would only EXPECT something that absurd at this point.

I digress…back to the protein bar!  After arriving to work, AND riding the elevator (WITH PEOPLE…people of OTHER businesses in this building) to my floor, and then sitting at my desk, I finally LOOK DOWN at my pants.  (I should seriously consider keeping a mirror in my car.) The icing that I had Loooooooved so much earlier apparently loved me back!!  It had decided to partially break off from the breakfast bar and smear itself all over the CROTCH region of my pants!!  White “icing” on my black pants…I can only IMAGINE what my fellow elevator-riders must have thought! 

It’s just another day where gravity, along with my klutz factor, WINS against me. 

Happy Friday, You Guys!  Please pass the coffee…

Advertisements

A Memory from the Rock Band Days

The band had just finished a fast-paced song, and the dance floor was clearing out as the mood changed to slow and sweet.  (In other words, everyone in the crowd was heading to get a refill on their beer before returning to slow dance in front of us.)  I stood, singing a rock ballad (probably Journey or Bon Jovi), and stared into the crowd.  After years of singing on a stage, I had no nervousness, and could easily watch and/or interact with a crowd while belting out a tune. 

As I glanced to the right of the dance floor in front of me, I noticed a young woman wandering to its edge, tugging her man behind her.  I assumed it was the regular “forcing the man to dance with her” situation.  This was fairly common.  I’ll admit I’ve been guilty of doing this from time to time.  But as I continued into the second verse, I took a closer look at the couple. 

I recognized that the woman was one of the avid dancers from during the previous song, someone who had been jumping around with so much glee(and by ‘glee’, I mean ‘drunkenness’) that she had fallen quite a few times, mid-dance.  A little too many twirls and whirls for her, I suppose.  Again, I’m guilty of this from time to time as well, so there’re no judgments here!  I always enjoyed watching people have a good time to our music.

Then, I took a closer look.  She was remaining poised by the edge of the dance floor with her guy.  I found this odd since she was so happy to dance all over that floor just a few minutes ago, so I decided to pay a little more attention to what was going on.  That is when I noticed her pointing towards the ground while saying something to her man.  My eyes followed where she was pointing (discreetly, of course), and that’s when I saw it. It was like, for a just a moment, in total sloooooow motion……

BEHOLD!! THE CHICKEN CUTLET!!!  (

Men, if you don’t know already, I’m talking about the fake, rubber boobs that some women put into their bras to amplify their cleavage.  Spoiler alert!!!)

It’s a good thing my mouth was ALREADY agape at this point, because if it hadn’t been, my jaw probably would have dropped at that point.  Apparently, while dancing previously, the fake, rubber bra-stuffer had come right out of her shirt!  Not only was it sitting there on the dance floor, but she was not even willing to retrieve it!  She commanded her man do it. 

And YES….he did.  He fetched it and brought it back to her…..back to it’s home…next to her boob.

IT TOOK EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO BURST INTO LAUGHTER, MID-SONG!!!

I managed to keep my composure.  Don’t ask me how, I haven’t a clue!! 

To this day, that band-days memory gives me grins. :)

Random Ramblings 11-7

I’ve decided that the male voice of our building’s elevators is malicious.  I mean, I hardly think that it’s a good thing to hear a menacing, robotic voice telling me I’m “going down”!  That just sounds like a threat to me.  They should just add “Sucka” to the end of the voice recording and be done with it!  Can you imagine?

You push the button with the down arrow picture on it, and the doors of the elevator open, warmly inviting you in…so you think.  Then, you press the button representing your desired floor, and the doors promptly CLOSE, trapping you inside the metal box, and a robotic voice exclaims, “You’re Going Down, SUCKA!”

Actually…they really should set the elevators up like that.  It’d be hilarious!

———————————————————————————-

Why has nothing been invented to alter taste buds?  I would love it if I could make cauliflower taste like Doritos.  I would eat ALL THE CAULIFLOWER.  What else?  Oh!  I want this taste-bud alter machine to also have texture capabilities…..anything soggy would be perceived as crunchy! YES!!!! 

Someone invent this…and then give me one…for Christmas. Thanks!

————————————————————————————————

Last night, I had a weird dream.  I’ll spare the details, but the gist of it is this:

Shannon and I bought a pig in Asia for a pet.  We brought it home.  I had a whole section of our deck set up for our new, little pet, complete with a blown up vanity. (I don’t know why.)  After bringing our little guy home, Shannon reads that there’s some disease that he can get, and now we have to get rid of the pig.  But I argue that the article he read says that the only way the pig will catch the disease is if we feed him an incredibly large amount of cake, and as long as we just never give him cake, we’ll be fine.  Shannon still doesn’t want to take that chance, and I’m all upset and trying to figure out how to keep our pig…..then I wake up.

WTF?

 

Art & Aliens

All had been calm for three hours.  Not a peep was heard from the sleeping toddler upstairs in the white bedroom.

At least, that’s what my babysitter told my mother many years ago.  Mom’s immediate response was a facial expression full of surprise and alarm.  If her little Leah had been quiet for three solid hours, something was NOT RIGHT with the world.  She rushed past her friend and charged up the stairs to the spare room, where I was supposedly napping.

——————————————————————————————————————————–

(Three hours earlier)

——————————————————————————————————————————–

Mom was making me stay at her friend’s house for awhile.  She had to run errands or work or something–obviously do a great, FUN THING  where a young girl was not allowed to join.  I GUESS I didn’t mind; surely the place where I was to be temporarily abandoned had toys. 

EVERYONE has toys.  Those who didn’t….well I figured they must be aliens from another planet.  And SURELY my mom wouldn’t leave me alone with aliens…..surely……..

Shortly after my mother delivered me to this person’s house, I was stuck in a bright, white room and expected to sleep.  I lied on the bed for AT LEAST four million years (aka 20 min. in real time), and decided it was boring. Naps are stupid.  I figured I had better look for the toys.  I sat up and peered at my surroundings.

Where were the toys?

I saw pillows….blankets…a dresser…white carpet….THERE WAS NOTHING FUN IN THIS ROOM.

What an upsetting revelation!! My mother LEFT ME WITH ALIENS!!!!!  I arose from the bed and began to wander around the room, contemplating how they might experiment on me; for a fleeting moment, I thought about crying, but then…

What I found in the drawers in front of a mirror was FAR better than toys.  A smile began to form on my face….

It slowly spread wider…

…and wider still! 

The grin could hardly contain my excitement!!!

Displayed in front of me in all their glory were tubes of lovely, red paint!!  It smelled sort of funny, and it didn’t taste quite like paint, but it worked JUST the same!!  (In case you don’t realize it, this was not paint, but lipstick.)

  I set about my task.  Surely, I would receive many pats on the head and marvelous compliments from my overseers/prison-guard aliens. Then, after they saw the beauty of my artwork, they may decide that my brain was far too precious to scramble.  Plus, they would HAVE to show me where all the toys were!

I would get to play WITH THEM ALL!!!!  I would be the PRINCESS OF ALL TOYS!!  Or even better—QUEEN!!!!  My rule of the alien-toy kingdom would be written in the history books as the greatest that ever was!!!

I slowly unsheathed the smooth, red “paint”.

Then, I began with the dresser, and moved swiftly to the carpet.  The bedspread and walls were splashed with the deep hue shortly after.  I had no cares that I was also becoming covered in the cherry-colored mess.  This was hard work, and I was going to do a DAMN fine job!!!!

——————————————————————————————————————————-

(Three hours later)

——————————————————————————————————————————–

My mother opened the door, with the homeowners close behind her.  I smiled up with all the glee I could muster…I was ready for my crown, for my toy-subjects, and for all my praise!

——————————————————————————————————————————-

My memory gets fuzzy at that point, but I am told that I was never left to be babysat by that couple again….ever.

Apparently, aliens don’t know what ART is.

Painting…BS!

Since it’d been awhile, I was re-visiting my old Livejournal.  I found this entry, and decided I should share it here. :)  I may add or change it a little bit, if I feel the need, though….just a few little tweaks…..

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I had a memory re-surface this morning, though I’m not sure what caused it.  When I was little (pre-K age), for a short time, I attended a daycare called La Petite Academy…I hated this place with every fiber of my being.  The older kids were often jerks, calling me names like “slow poke”, and I did not like the teachers, either, because I thought they came off as bossy and rude.  (In case you’re wondering, I didn’t have to go to that place very long.  I, shortly after, attended a delightful little at-home preschool!  Mrs. Aidy, I still think fondly of you!) 

Anyways…there was one day in particular that I was actually excited, because we were going to have the chance to play with paint!  The teacher spread this gigantic piece of majestic, white paper in front of me as I sat there, grinning from ear to ear!  Then, the ketchup-bottle-shaped containers full of that wondrous, colorful, oozy liquid were placed on the table…

JUST…

out of…

reach. 

I could just SMELL the stuff!  It almost made my fingers tingle in excitement!!!  I longed to grab one and begin squirting it onto the paper with all my might, to show ALL OF THE WORLD what wonders I had hidden in my imagination, just WAITING to escape through the medium of paint!

Then…the unthinkable happened.  I saw paint raining down in front of me, onto the paper.  As I slowly turned my widening eyes upwards, I saw that the teacher was squirting random designs with the three primary colors onto MY piece of paper!!

“Perhaps, she is merely showing me an example of what I COULD do, and this isn’t my piece of paper.  Perhaps MY piece is still coming! Perhaps….”

As I pondered these things to myself, trying not to get upset at the creative outlet that seemed to be slipping from my preschool fingers, the teacher proceeded to fold the paper in half, pressing the paint in between the folds. 
Then, she cheerily (Actually, to me it sounded more like DEVIOUSNESS from an evil witch!!!) told me to unfold the paper.  I did so.  She then cooed and cheered at the artwork I had made!  For a moment, I was dumbfounded.

I DIDN’T DO IT!!  THIS WAS A LIE!! SHE CHEATED ME OUT OF MY FIRST MASTERPIECE!!!!!!!!!!  

If I had KNOWN the word “bullshit” at this point in my life, I surely would have yelled it from the mountaintops!
“Nobody look at this!! Do NOT transfix your gaze onto this fraudulent piece of BULLSHIT!”

Pretty sure I sulked the rest of that day, but at that point, my memory becomes a bit hazy.

I assume I blocked it out….due to the pain.

Dorito Dilemma

Today, I attempted to pretend my protein bar was a bag of Cool Ranch doritos.  It did not work.  So, I decided it would be worth it to cough up the 40 cents and buy a small bag of the beloved chips. 

I dug through the abyss, aka the bottom of my gigantic purse/bag.  Along with some wrappers and crumbs (HOW THE HELL…????), I pulled out some coins.  JUST ENOUGH!! It had to be a sign.  I was MEANT to eat those chips!

I practically skipped to the cubicle that holds our beloved office-snack treasures, and I opened the drawer that holds the chips and crackers.  For a moment, I thought I heard angels…and a small bit of light seemed to eminate from the drawer! 

This light was QUICKLY dashed as I realized…..there…..were……NO…..DORITOS!!!!  Nothing but potato chips and Sun Chips!! These are NOT what I craved!!!

I wandered back to my desk in defeat, a small, figurative tear rolling down my cheek.

A Limit Reached

Today, I reached the maximum capacity for banana intake.

For a really long time, I would only eat, on average, one banana per YEAR.  I am a HUGE texture person when it comes to eating, and eating something that has the same texture as what I imagine shit would have does NOT sound appealing.  (My GAWD…it’s the similar shape of poo, too!!!  Also, you’re welcome for THAT visual. Ha!)

Still, I know that it’s a quite regular fruit to eat for most, and my once-a-year eating would only happen, surely, because my body was telling me that I needed potassium or else MY MUSCLES WOULD CRAMP INTO OBLIVION!!!!

But, for the past few weeks, I discovered that I WAS actually able to stand eating bananas again, just like I’m sure I did when I was a one year old with no choices but mushy food.  Plus, it was an easy breakfast to grab that has protein.  Win-win? 

Not this morning.

This morning would have been my third day in a row to eat a banana for breakfast this week.

I took my first bite….”Why does this taste….different?…”

I took my second bite….”No…it tastes the same, but………………….

 

the……………………….

 

texture…..”

**BLARGH!!!**

On my third bite, I began to literally gag on the banana!  (Go ahead….Insert innuendo/joke here….I know you want to!) ;P

I spit that fruit-crap back out and into the trash, then threw the remaining banana in with it!  Not only did I THROW the offending food into the trash, I fucking PITCHED it in there!!   Batter up, Trash can!!! 

So my threshold was reached.  It took a total of 8-10 bananas in three weeks, but at least now I know.

Maybe I’ll try bananas again….next year.