If You Don't Get The Reference, Google It.

I love the comedian and Tosh.0 TV host Daniel Tosh. Love. Him. A lot. As any fan knows, he had a segment for "I Hate" videos. "I Hate" videos are becoming popular on the web. People with mild to lock-your-doors crazy grievances would list them on a video and then post them online. Being that I'm not camera-ready right now, I would like to list them in print-form. So get ready, I've had this list comfortably tucked in my head for years now.

**Note: Some of these are not originally worded or formed by myself, they were just brilliant enough to excitedly jump onto my list.

- I hate when I realize that I'm walking in the complete wrong direction, and instead of simply turning around 180 degrees I feel the need to check my watch or phone and put on a production before turning because I'm not-so-secretly worried that people will think I'm weird or crazy (both of which are true).

- I hate Nickelback.

- I hate all Disney Channel pop prince/ss proteges. All of them. Stop it.

- I hate that there's no designated nap time.

- I hate that there is no designated font for sarcasm. ex: Yeah I really want to go into Abercrombie with you. Read: I don't really appreciate feeling like I'm in a toxic, expensive, laser-beam laden dance-mix infested coffin. <----sarcasm font needed...or maybe not.

- I hate watching movies that I absolutely love with people who have never seen them. This process makes me anxious..."ok, shut the f*ck up, a funny part is coming!" "No I won't explain why they are in Memphis now, stop text messaging during THE BEST MOVIE EVER or I'll cut you." It isn't pretty.

- I hate trying to fold a fitted sheet.

- I hate when it takes more than one trip to get my groceries from my car and into my house. I will literally break an arm off or at least lose all circulation in them to avoid this.

- I hate when the feeling of accomplishment for actually going grocery shopping disappears instantly when you realize that you now have to put them away. Why aren't grocery bags an appropriate place to store all bought-goods? Who needs a pantry?

- I hate that LOL has been so overused that it no longer means "laugh out loud" but rather "...I have nothing else to say."

- I hate that boredom and hunger are indecipherable to me now.

- I hate that MapQuest doesn't start on #5...I can get out of my own neighborhood, thank you.

- I hate that bad decision make good stories...but they also make life-shame.

- I hate when I'm doing some light internet-stalking of someone and their Facebook profile is set to completely private. I don't want to be friends with my boyfriend's ex...I just want to see if I'm better looking than her.

- I hate when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save my changes...even though I could swear I didn't make any.

- I hate when someone call me in the middle of our conversation that was being conducted solely through text message.

- I hate taking the time to look good in the morning and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. Waste.

- I hate when I look down at the time 3 times in a row and then realize that I still don't know what time it is.

- I hate when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.

I'm sure there will be plenty more to follow.

I could do an "I love" list but there just isn't enough blog space in the world! <---see what I mean about needing a sarcasm font...some of you might have otherwise fallen for that.

And The Password Is:

So, it's been a while. I have writer's block and life-shame. There is literally nothing happening in my life worth blogging about. This is all I have:

1. I've been trying to keep up with The World Cup...it's not going too well, my 10-yr-old-caffeine-and-candy-pillfering-ADHD-ass has not been able to focus.

**on a side note, what the eff are these:



Well those are cute kids, but they're doing something really UNCUTE, using vuvuzelas, the noise maker of choice at the 2010 World Cup. #&%)#@&%*#$@ those are annoying. What happened to the wave, it is now passé? What is this world coming to?

2. Mr. S and I have finally moved (a while ago actually). The new place is just what we needed. We are adjusting to having one bathroom instead of 3 (try not to sneer at that).

3. My job comes to an end next month, so now I am on the brink of panic pondering that I must soon find another one.

4. I have an almost clincal need for there to be more than one True Blood on a week. Seriously. Clinical. So much so that I'm actually reading the excessively cheesy books that the TV series is based on. It's like a porn-addict reading old Linda Howard novels bought from a local Safeway because he can't afford his internet. Sad, underwhelming--and very unfulfilling.

5. My office plant is trying to commit suicide. Probably because it knows that it's going to be taken home soon to be soley cared for by me, not the occasional empathic co-worker who waters the poor abused thing. I should have started with a pet rock or a beanie baby.

6. I have really bad allergies today and forgot to take an allergy pill before I walked to work this morning. I don't have a joke for that...it's just uncomfortable, and sneezy.

So there you have it. I'm sure some awesome exciting life-stuff will happen soon to grab some blog-reader attention. Hopefully.

Panic Time!

Mr. S. went out and bought a condo for us to move into, which we will do. Tomorrow. Early. Tomorrow. Holy crap we move tomorrow.

I've been cleaning and packing all weekend and haven't really put a dent into the whole hate-filled moving process.

So now I'm just sitting here like a panic-stricken chiuaua left out in the rain...in a hungry lion's den...with a pound of raw meat hanging around its neck.

I'll paint you a picture, we're going to use some colorful metaphors kids. The amount of crap that Mr. S has is around this:



And here is the amount of crap that I own:



So I've been packed for about...well I was finished 20 minutes after I started packing because everything I own fits in my car, but there's still an eff-ton more to do. So I expect some sort of you're-the-best-girlfriend-ever-I-couldn't-have-done-this-without-you-especially-since-I-left-you-to-do-most-of-the-cleaning-while-I-was-gone-all-weekend gift...maybe something sparkly...or wrapped in bacon.

But I am very thankful for the beautiful new condo that Mr. S and I can start our new lives in.

Here are a few pictures of our new home!!:

The Day That Beer Tried to Get Me Fired

There have been days when mind-shattering hangovers have effected my job (sorry mom). I have poured coffee into my refillable water bottle. I have forgotten to put my Lean Cuisine in the office freezer resulting in a soggy 300-calorie enchilada meal and empty stomach. I have shown up with only one eye mascaraed and two mix-matched stockings.

Although alcohol was the culprit yesterday, I was in no way hung over.

Let me back up.

I am addicted (equally) to caffeine and those wonderful chemicals that allow sodas to now be calorie-free. So when I reached into Mr S' garage refrigerator to grab a Pepsi, I instead mindlessly threw a Pabst Blue Ribbon Light (yeah that actually exists) into my purse. I then drove to work and opened it loudly in my cubicle at ten in the morning.

One should never have to bewilderingly decide how to dispose of a half-opened beer at work--outside of Christmas parties and your very spiteful last day of work personal celebration. Luckily no one (to my knowledge) noticed.

I quickly--breaking into a mild sweat--started to weigh my options.

Do I:

-Drink it (a little too obvious).
-Water my sad little cubicle plant with it--I hadn't watered it in a while and Pabst...let alone Pabst Light is practically water anyway right?
-Water the well-kept plants of the people in my office that I dislike, especially the ones who steal my Diet Cokes out of the refrigerator--it's really their fault I was in this situation in the first place.
-Set it carefully in the office kitchen and wait for the office gossip/questions to start circulating for my own amusement.

I punked out and just hid it to take back home. It turned out to be quite a bitch-of-a-day, in retrospect I should have disposed of it in my stomach. Hindsight is 20/20.

Stab-Free Coping Skills: A Guide

Sometimes in life I have encountered awkward or annoying situations that have required me to develop several different coping skills lest I become agitated (read: stabby toward everyone).

The other day I was standing on a city sidewalk talking to some friends. A woman walking on said sidewalk was fast approaching. There was room for the woman to weave through us, there was even room for the woman to go around us. Instead of doing either of those things the woman loudly and aggressively stated "EXCUSE ME" causing me to jump farther out of her way and leaving me with a violated and slightly intruded-upon feeling---for a moment, this is when the coping skills come in handy. Instead of feeling that the woman was obviously rude and felt entitled to the entire sidewalk I chose to believe that she had just farted and was of course very embarrassed. In retrospect it's really kind of sweet and funny that she cared so much for our smelling safety that she went out of her way to warn us. Although she didn't have to worry since I smelt nothing, it was still really considerate of her. How selfless.

See how useful these kinds coping skills are? So the next time someone cuts you off in traffic know that the bastard driver is really just experiencing a Final Destination-like moment and knows that cutting you off will save your life due to the horrific crash that is about to happen--causing death itself to stalk you until you're mashed by a piano or decapitated by an elevator door. The next time someone cuts in front of you in the Starbucks line, while you stand two feet away distracted by colorful mugs and unpronounceable bags of overpriced free-trade coffee due to your crippling ADD, know that the cutter is taking one for the team by getting the last mocha made by the inexperienced barista-in-training before she goes on her break leaving you to get a perfectly made mocha from the more experienced barista.

If none of these techniques work it doesn't hurt to get a little stabby. Well it doesn't hurt you anyway.

Seattle Minus the Hepatitis C Please

So I am driving to Bellingham, WA tomorrow with Mr. S to drop his kids off and spend some relaxing time in Seattle. Mr. S and I will be staying with some of his friends on Friday and Saturday night. Here's the thing about Mr. S, he hasn't let me down yet in finding me a some-what acceptable place to sleep at when we go on these adventures but there is always the possibility that I will end up sleeping in a place that looks like this:



I'm not high maintenance but I am slightly against sleeping in a place that makes a meth lab look like the Ritz Carlton. I just want a place to sleep in that doesn't have questionable stains on the pillow and a bathroom that won't give me Hepatitis C. Let's just say I'm saying a little prayer for myself.

Oh baby.

My boyfriend Mr. S' children are in town for a week. I haven't had much experience around kids (they are 1 and 3 years old) so I have been dealing with it in the most logical and mature way possible--blind spasming fear and horror.

I don't know how to act around them! For one thing, every other word out of my mouth is 'fuck' 'fucking' 'fucked' or 'fuck-ton.' Plus, apparently children of this age do not yet understand and cannot appreciate cynicism or sarcasm so my whole "make them laugh and they'll love you" plan is...well...fucked <----see what I mean, what other word could I possibly have used there? The English language is crumbling down around me.

Our days together have been filled with the noises of Handy Manny, every light-up-noisy-as-hell toy available on the market today, and screaming, as the smells of baby poop and playdoh waft gently through the air.

But overall I am glad that they are here. It makes Mr. S so happy to see his kids and although he stresses out like Armageddon itself is coming down upon us all I know that he will miss his children dearly when they have to go back home. I am also learning how to go with the flow and find my zen amidst complete chaos.

On a bigger and much more selfish note Mr. S and I have never been wonderful and this is while he is at his most stressed. I think if anything this experience has strengthen us.

But don't ask me to watch your kids. I just wanted to make that clear.






I have learned a lot.