-I officially am a 14 year old in an adult’s body – I am now obsessed with a series of books (The Confessions of Georgia Nicolson) and can talk about nothing else. I read the first 8 books in the series over the course of 3 days (the 9th one comes out today – I already have it on order at Barnes & Noble and am picking it up after work), and my 23-year-old assistant can’t stop mocking me. I just think she’s full of jealousity (a Georgiaism) and it she doesn’t relax soon she’s going to have a nervy b.
Okay, I’ll shut up now.
-Speaking of assistants, this guy that I interviewed for my assistant’s position walked by the other day, and my boss turned to me and said ‘It’s a good thing we didn’t hire him’ (he works for another part of the company), ‘You would have eaten him alive.’ That’s a direct quote! And I don’t get it – I’m freaking nice to the people I work with! Why are they all convinced I’m the devil? What is wrong with these people? Can’t they see I’m a fucking saint?!
Yes, I am in a weird mood today.
-The last two weeks have been nuts – I’ve gone to 2 Yanks games, done a 5K (okay, I walked it – shut up, I may be incompetent, but I’m not a quitter!), had 2 birthday dinners that I was required to attend, went home to visit the parents for a weekend (so I’m a momma’s girl – bite me), went on one hideous blind date that I can’t even bring myself to talk about, and lost my cell phone in another state. And during ALL THAT, I only got really truly drunk once. How the fuck did I pull that off?
Unfortunately, the drunk story isn’t even that interesting (but that won't stop me from sharing it!): So I went out with some old co-workers for margaritas, chips, salsa, and guacamole (mmmm, avocados…) last week and, as with any really good Mexican food experience, drank roughly my body weight in tequila and ate essentially the same amount in chips. It was fun! (I also got to really catch up on old office gossip, which I hate to admit is much more fun when you find out the place is falling apart without you there…which it is. Score!) Needless to say, when I woke up the next morning I legitimately believed I was going to die. Turns out I was as hungover as a hungover dumbass can be. Fucking tequila. Anyway, had to go into work that day (who gets that drunk in the middle of the week, you ask? Ummm….me), and it took my assistant all of 1 minute in my presence before she realized something had to be done. One large glass of water with Alka Seltzer in it and a really buttery toasted bagel later, and I was almost human. Tasted like shit (the Alka Seltzer, not the bagel), but I have to admit my assistant was right – it’s not a bad hangover cure.
There was no point to that story – I just wanted to share.
-Went out for Linda’s birthday on Saturday (wait, 2 Saturday’s ago, not this past Saturday), and damn – my life is weird. Long story short I found myself sitting in a restaurant with 20 of Linda’s nearest and dearest friends. Of these 20 people there was:
1) her new fiancé, aka The Dude Who Once Asked Me Out And My Only Response Was to Laugh in His Face,
2) the married friend of hers who insisted on hitting on me even when his wife was standing only a few feet away,
3) the REALLY hot (but only 21 and therefore off-limits – hey, I have no morals but even I won’t go there) friend of her younger brother who was randomly (what the fuck – was something in the air that night or something?) hitting on me too, and
4) several of Linda’s female friends – aka The Bitch Squad. These chicks decided long ago that they hated me (I don’t know why), and have been nothing but insufferable ever since. The only bright side to this is that I can be a bigger bitch than anyone if need be, and as it turned out – I need be. I put up with about 1 minute of their cattiness before snapping. Final assessment: Those ladies are amateurs, but I wish they would just calm the fuck down and leave me alone for once; it’s exhausting to have to smack (metaphorically of course) those chippies down every five minutes when I’m just trying to enjoy myself (and avoid the wandering eyes, hands, etc. of all their boyfriends/husbands).
-Every few months I start to feel the urge to get a tattoo. Now I generally don’t trust my decision-making abilities enough to make many (okay, any) permanent/irreversible steps in my life (duh, I have commitment issues), so the tattoo has never happened. But assuming I ever did go temporarily insane and actually went through with the ink, where would I put it? (I already know what I would get, so that’s a decision I have successfully made – yes, I am such a grown up!)
Now, it couldn’t be anywhere my father would see (he’d lose it), and I refuse to get an infamous ‘tramp stamp’ on my lower back either. So…where would work? Ah fuck, there aren’t any places on the body you people can suggest that I haven’t already thought of – I don’t know why I’m even bringing this up.
God I’m tired today.
-Does anyone else find that when they’re hungry but unwilling (ie. too lazy) to leave the house to feed themselves, looking at a cookbook and/or watching the Food Network tends to be a viable alternative? I mean sure, it’s not the same as actually eating, but for the very, very, very lazy…it works.
-NY in the summertime…smells.
-The MTA must be run by a bunch of incompetents – I HATE the subway (especially in the summertime and especially going up to Yankee Stadium). Hey geniuses, if you know there are going to be roughly 60,000 people heading into the Bronx around 7pm on a Monday night, maybe it would be a good idea to get some 4 trains fucking RUNNING up there.
Oh, and 1 or 2 trains going back into Manhattan after the game wouldn’t be too bad either. You know, if it’s not too much trouble. Fuckers.
-There was a dude on the subway today who was wearing shorts, had no hair on his legs (I guess he shaves, I don’t know), but DID have hair on the back of his knees. And it was skeeving me out! I mean, how does that even happen? Does hair grow on the back of the knees? What is with some people?!
-Ronaldo – the dude whose picture I’ve been posting here recently – has a girlfriend with cellulite. A lot of fucking cellulite. What the fuck? How is this even possible?
-Oh, and on that note – another post will be coming tomorrow detailing the absolutely hideous and truly upsetting shopping trip I took part in this past weekend. Let me say this much now though: As someone who generally has no major body issues to speak of, I now have a BIG one that is pissing me off! I am a freak of nature and it is…upsetting me.
And with that, ta ta for now (or TTFN as Georgia would say)! I swear I’m going to grow up soon. Promise.
8 comments:
Your body issue? Cover it with a tattoo. Problem(s) solved.
If you get a tramp stamp, you're out of my Google Reader. I mean it.
Where you get a tattoo can really depend on what you're getting. An old friend had a bunch of little stars on her hip, below the belt line, which worked because they were below they were small and she wanted to keep them hidden.
One of my best friends has several larger, more visible tattoos, including one at the base of her neck, one on her shoulder, and one that runs about halfway up her calf. My personal favorite is the one at the base of her neck - it's nicely centered and looks nice, but is still low enough that it's pretty much hidden by a regular polo shirt.
The one thing I personally hate about having a tattoo on my back is that I can't see it. So there's that to consider.
Figure out the tattoo first. The location will follow.
And welcome back to the world.
I agree with TK and OMDQ: pick the tattoo first, then figure out possible locations. Small stuff fits nicely next to the hipbones, though.
My father, until the day he died, simply pretended I did not have tattoos. My 4-year old cousin asked him why I drew on my arms, and Papa said he didn't know what Cuz was talking about. Good times.
john b: You're going to realize just how bad a suggestion that is tomorrow when I talk about my 'body issues.' But thanks for the horrible suggestion all the same!
omdq: I said I wasn't going to get the tramp stamp - give me a little credit here! As for the other suggestions, I can't do the back of the neck (although I personally like tattoos there) because I wear my hair up a lot and my father would definitely see it there. I've always been partial to hip tats as well, but I generally want to avoid any area that - if I one day got pregnant (good God, can you imagine?) - would stretch out the tattoo when I...you know...stretched out.
This is forever people - you have to think about these things!
tk: Hey, thanks! I know you don't believe this, but I actually do exist even when I'm not here. I know, now I'm just talking crazy.
I already know what the tattoo would be; I've known for years, so that's done at least. Now what?
thursday: Again, I already know what I would get - now what? And also again, I love the idea of the hipbone tattoo (or rather, I like the idea of below the hipbone and almost into naughty area tattoo), but I'm afraid of future stretching. It has to be somewhere that no one will see, but where I also want it.
You see, having my father ignore my tattoo as yours did (in a pretty funny way actually - nice), would be a best case (and totally unrealistic) scenario. And as full of shit and lacking in fear as I normally am, that attitude does not extend to my daddy. He has always been very clear that he doesn't like tattoos and would not approve of me getting one. If I then did so (which I totally would if I wasn't such a flake) and he found out...I mean, I could get the Disappointed Face from him or something! I only break his rules if I'm not going to get caught, so we have to think with that in mind here. (Yes, I am a pussy when it comes to my father; I can't help it, he's still all-powerful in my eyes.)
Just to clarify: "back of the neck" was a bit misleading. The area I'm thinking of is more across the top of the upper back. Still, if you're in the habit of wearing anything less than a polo shirt at any point in time, someone is likely to see it. Tattoos are not easy to hide (although my mother-in-law didn't know about mine for four years after I started dating her daughter, so it's possible).
Oh, and you have no idea how mad I am about my previous comment. All I wanted to do was address your youthfulness by throwing in a "Stay gold, Redhead," and I completely forgot. So disappointed in myself.
That's sort of a difficult question - what's the design? That can sometimes, and usually will, affect where you choose to put it. Some things just... work better, or make more sense, in certain places.
Oh, fuck it. If you're serious about it, post the design, or email me, or something.
omdq: I'm disappointed in you too! (I'm just kidding - I know you think I'm awesome.) Here's my problem placement wise: My parents have a pool, I go to use it all the time during the summer, sooooo this means I am extremely limited in my placement choices. In the end I think I'm just screwed.
tk: I don't have a design, I just know what I want. And while it won't make sense to you since you don't know me (well I mean you know me, but you don't KNOW me) it would make sense to the very few people who REALLY do. It's...well, it would be 2 boxing gloves. The ideal thing would be to have a little anklet thingee tattooed on me and then having the boxing gloves be like a charm, but since an anklet isn't even remotely hidden...
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