Friday, October 15, 2010
Random PMS Ramblings
* First and foremost, a scenario:
You are a miner. You have been trapped deep beneath the surface of the Earth for over 2 months. Up on the surface, all the best scientific minds have been working out a way to get you, and your fellow miners out of there. A hole has been carefully drilled. Finally the day arrives when they reach your sealed-off chamber! Jubilation! Not much longer now, and you will be free! And then the day comes and they lower down the tube-like device to transport you to the top. OH WAIT, IT'S ONLY AS WIDE AS YOUR FREAKING SHOULDERS. OH, AND YOU HAVE TO RIDE IN THAT THING, THROUGH A 'TUNNEL' THAT IS NOT MUCH WIDER THAN THAT NARROW, NARROW TUBE. ALSO, YOU HAVE TO BE IN THAT TINY, TINY, SUPER CLAUSTROPHOBIC TUBE FOR PERHAPS 20 MINUTES.
Seriously, did anybody else see that tube in their little chamber and think; oh my god, THAT is what they have to get into? THAT?!? Did anyone else feel so suffocatingly claustrophobic just looking at it that they nearly had to lie down? I lamented (whined) to my Dad; "if they were digging a hole anyway, couldn't they have made it WIDER?!?" He replied; "that's a BIG hole..." Big shmig. They would have had to sedate me.
Oh, and here's another thing, thanks to my sucko thyroid, and my low metabolism, I never lose weight. I haven't gained weight in 3 years (yay me), but I never lose any appreciable amount of weight even though I don't eat any of the crappy stuff I shouldn't be eating (recent large bag of medicinal red licorice aside). So, what if I had been down there, and when it came time to haul me up, I didn't fit into that tube thing? Dad said; "you'd have lost weight. They put them on a special 2000 calorie a day diet." Oh no I wouldn't. They'd probably have to butter me just to get me back to the surface.
! Note: I am not, in any way, trying to make light of the horrible situation those poor Chilean Miners endured. But mon dieu, if you're as claustrophic as I, you almost had to put a pillow over your head when it came time to start lifting the guys to the surface in THAT THING.
* PINK EYE IS A FREAKING JOKE. Yeah, you heard me. I got a phone call from the school yesterday to tell me that Jack's right eye was "really red." This I knew. Yes, I am a mild douche in this case, but not entirely, and here's why. Jack has had pink eye since last week. Last week we got the over-the-counter drops. I figured it was all part of the last cold he had, and since none of us caught it, nor Jack's sister who licked his face last Thursday whilst waiting at the clinic to treat her TONSILLITIS, I figured it wasn't the highly contagious variety. So, the drug store drops had been working nicely, until tired, burnt out, hormonally compromised karen kept forgetting to give him all four doses the past two days. Bingo bango, Jack wakes up on picture day with a nice red eye. But it's PICTURE DAY, I whined to myself, mentally tallying again all the important days Jack's has missed the past few years thanks to germs. Off we went to the doctor's last night, where she took one quick look at him, and wrote up a prescription. And the freaking Rule Of Thumb, is that a child with pink eye should stay home for the first 24 hours after starting the antibiotic. So let's get this straight, a kid who otherwise feels great, but whose eye is slightly itchy, gets to have a nice day at home surfing youtube and drawing pictures, but the kid who shows up to school with green ropes coming out of his nose is fine?!? BAH. Jack must think pink eye is a magical gift.
* my face gets very fat in those last few days before my red buddy shows up, and my double chin, EVEN BIGGER.
* Every month at this time: SAME THING, and still nobody else picks up the toys.
* I think I really fried my hair the last time I threw a box of chemical colour on it. The hair to the right side of my forehead is all wispy and kind of broken off. Hmm...
* how can I coax my family to each only wear one clean outfit per week???
* I'm trying to figure out what the difference between "cynic," and "realist" is....less whining???
* I burnt my forehead with the f***ing straightener while pondering that last point
* if for 1 day I could just liberally pepper my dialogue with the F word, and all the other yummy swears, I think it would be more effective for stress release than yoga!
*Here's a recent convo I had with a dad at the school yard: "Hey, so-and-so, have your girls been sick since the beginning of school too? "
So-and-so: "No--I guess we've been pretty lucky, but you probably just cursed me!"
Hyuck hyuck.This small exchange represents one thing I've suspected all along: A LOT OF PEOPLE'S LIVES ARE THIS MUCH EASIER THAN MINE.
* I have discovered that instead of spending money on a toy, I might as well spend it on a tie. I bought Jack a little clip-on black long tie from Wal of Evil the other day, and he flipping loves it. He's worn his white dress shirt and black tie two days in a row. This kid's greatest aspiration is to have a black suit. What a crazy kid.
* even though I feel the power of the B$tch is strong in me, I can't stop it.
* If I do the old trick, whereby I get a mannequin, put it in my clothes, and plunk it just-so under the covers, do you think everyone would be fooled, and then stop asking me for snacks, drinks, and whatever else they want for the next few hours?
* The best word to describe my hair is UNREASONABLE. I don't know if there's some hormonal shifts going on, but my lid has become the untameable broom. Maybe it's time to look into getting one of those Raquel Welch wigs, buzzing my horse hair off, and just putting something fresh and cute on every day.
*it's probably the worst time possible to bake up a batch of chocolate chip cookies, considering how quickly that generous package of red licorice disappeared
* it's probably the best time possible to be invited to my Dad's house for TAKE OUT FISH AND CHIPS BOO YAH
Have a good weekend, y'all.