30 May 2008

Bucket, please

I'm not exactly sure what birthed my queasy stomach. It wasn't my mom, that's for sure. She's the type that would ask a doctor if she could be in the operating room to observe her daughter's knee surgery.

I don't think my dad transferred the trait. No justification for that assumption, but it just doesn't seem to fit him.

And I haven't had this uneasy tummy as long as I can remember. I didn't freak out when I skinned a knee ... which I did countless times. From what I recall, I didn't squeal with disgust at the sight of blood.

But now, even talking about it makes me feel faint. In fact, I have to take breaks as I type because of bouts of "the willies" and general dizziness. To you, dear readers, this may seem like a seamless flow of prose genius ... ha ... but I need you to know that's not the case.

Anyway. Generally speaking, the following ick factors make me lightheaded, shudder with fear and overall displeased: needles, blood, conversations about needles or blood. Sometimes people's fears, especially with needles and such, improve with age. Turns out my case is the opposite. It's only gotten worse. Besides the inevitable fainting spell while having blood drawn for tests (yeah, a tiny vial's worth has the ability to knock me unconscious, so you can forget about asking me to donate BAGS of blood), apparently I'm adding to the list of what makes me grossed out. For one, raw meat ... not for moral reasons, I've just grown to incrementally dislike it more and more each day. (Exception ... sushi.)

But my newest discovery is the most random of all. One of my favorite shows is Three Sheets. (You should probably most definitely check it out here. Tell Zane I sent you.) In short, the host Zane Lamprey visits countries to learn about locals' drinking customs and favorite beverages. And when he visits some countries to partake in alcoholic beverages, their traditions get downright gnarly. Several episodes have featured the mostly involuntary consumption of liquor that has been infused with dead snakes or other critters ... lizards, seahorses, etc. While viewing these occurrences in previous seasons, it was gross, but nothing induced vomiting. But last night, while watching his episode in Saigon, they visited a shop that had endless jars of alcohol filled with dead animals. It doesn't help that I was eating brisket while watching, but I seriously could not watch without gagging.

Then there was the time Zane tried to cure a hangover by eating soup that contained coagulated cow blood. Makes me dry heave as I type.

So the next time you try to buy me a shot laced with dead serpent, blood and pieces of raw meat, served by way of syringe, I'll punch you in the nose.

22 May 2008

The latest announcement

"Attention VML, the Ford Canada bus is now leaving. The Ford Canada bus is now leaving."

Um. Ok? ...

21 May 2008

Another thing that doesn't suck ...

Is a great friend. Thanks to the fellow who brought me cupcakes to help me "keep a chin up." And not just any cupcakes. Baby Cakes. One carrot cake, one strawberry and one chocolate with buttercream icing. The strawberry is sitting in my tummy right now, wondering how it was devoured so quickly.

But seriously. To my cupcake yielding friend, thank you. Even though I told you not to bring them to me (I know you too well, huh?) ... you did. And my tummy is grateful.

And they say comfort can't come in the form of food. Liars.

P.S. I neglected to mention that Bop also got me a cupcake yesterday. I didn't forget, however, so I had to give her props. Thanks for making me chunky, guys. No seriously ... I love it.

Negative Nancy vs. Positive Patty

Things kinda suck right now, I'll be honest. But you know what doesn't suck? A good date.

Something about me is that I'm not good at hiding my emotions. So when things get downright crappy at work, it takes its toll at home as well. But last night the boyfriend and I attempted to get away from said crappiness. (You'd think being in the Bahamas on a cruise for a week last week would trump it. You'd think wrong.)

Initially we planned on either going to a movie, or renting one and baking cookies or brownies. As incessant crying hampers my appetite - no small feat, may I add ... making me cry OR making me not want to eat - I opted out of the baking option. Theater it is. While we had originally planned on finding something to eat at home, I had developed a craving for Buffalo Wild Wings ... no idea where it came from. But since things suck right now, I get my way. (Hi, I'm a brat. Nice to meet you.)

It was seriously de-freaking-licious. We don't have a BWW close to us, so it doesn't come up on our dinner-option radar often. But sometimes we think of it on Thursdays because of 50 cent boneless wings. I don't think I'll ever go back on a Thursday ... while it's still awesome, I've now found the non-boneless promo nights are amazing. Four spicy garlic, four medium ... all dipped in bleu cheese goodness ... for half an hour, my worries were sent soaring.

Looks like I'll have to eat Buffalo Wild Wings for at least a week. My life is so hard.

19 May 2008

Back to reality

Remember this pathetic attempt at poetry, but an honest depiction nonetheless? I wasn't looking for someone to make the decision for me. But that's what happened. So there's that.

Can someone bring me a cupcake, please?

07 May 2008

Obligatory driving rant

I delayed the inevitable for quite some time. Every time I wanted to blog, but had no topic, I contemplated the "driving pet peeves" theme. But I refrained, knowing that they've become utterly cliche. I mean, everyone has their driving hot spots. What makes mine so different? Well, nothing really. But in the last week I've seen far too many drivers - if you can really call them that - doing completely idiotic things while driving. Since when did driving become the battle of multi-tasking? Who can do the most things while driving ... Dumbest. Notion. Ever.

So I'm cruising across I-70 west to visit my awesome mom. I've made my way for about 20 minutes without any major aggressions. (I'll admit, I've got a minor case of road rage. But not the kind that's unwarranted ... mine is totally legit.) I'm in the left lane, make my way closer to an older Honda. I notice it swerving quite a bit, but I credit it to the wind. I've got my cruise control set to approximately 77. Without a second's notice, the other Honda immediately steps on the gas and goes from what I'm guessing was 73, to 80. "Uh. Ok?" I think to myself. I move to the right lane.

Shortly after, I approach the same Honda. Back down to the lower 70's mph, swerving to their heart's content. I make my way to pass the car, glance over for a quick survey of the situation and I uncover the culprit: test messaging. Ok. I've been known to be a text messaging bandit, so it's not like I'm a crotchety old woman nay saying the technological phenomenon. But this lady is just staring at the phone, clearly a texting novice, not even looking up at the road ahead of her unless the big hunk of metal she's driving veers off course. Nevertheless, I shake my head and go on my merry way. I've got a mom to see.

Another five or so minutes pass, the Honda's back. She's cruising over 80, ready to pass me. But she suddenly slows. I then pass her and not only see the reason for the abrupt speed change (phone call) but I also see that she has a child in her back seat. Ok ladies and gents ... I try to keep the internet lingo to a minimum, but WTF! It really ticked me off that this idiot was putting other drivers' lives in danger, but it absolutely makes me sick to my stomach that she would put a child's life in jeopardy so she could freaking send a text message.

Her speed fluctuation caused several continued encounters, and I was to the point of calling Highway Patrol to report her reckless driving if it happened one more time. It didn't.

I'm not at all claiming to be a perfect driver. I've done stupid things in the past, and I have my moments now. But I sure know where to draw the line. I vote for this lady to be locked in a dark room with "The Macarena" on loop over loudspeakers.

05 May 2008

Searching for inspiration

As if it weren't sufficiently apparent, I've been in a little slump as of late. The severity has its ebbs and flows, but one thing's for certain ... I'm in need some inspiration. And the worst part about this need is that nothing seems to show itself when you're actually looking for it. So I'm trying to trick inspiration into thinking that I'm not looking for it, and when he least expects it - that's right, I gave Inspiration a gender ... and proper noun status - I'll pounce.

I've had recent bouts with Inspiration, but it's tough to convince him to stay. Take, for instance, last night. An impromptu visit to some friends' house found them watching the movie "Stranger Than Fiction." I loved this movie when I first saw it in the theaters. But I'm not so great at re-viewing movies unless they're directed by John Hughes or produced by Happy Madison Productions. (Yeah, I said it.) So watching the movie for a second time not only allowed me to enjoy additional subtle quips I missed the first time, but it also showed beginnings of a breath of fresh creative air. I half hoped the movie was first a book, so I could turn the breath into a longer-sustaining inspiration, but to no avail. I think I'll just have to memorize the script. Or get my hands on the screenplay.

Since Inspiration plays hard to get, I thought I'd try to get my mind off him. I've taken up crossword puzzles and Scrabble, neither of which I'm very good at. Which is minorly depressing since I'm a writer. I'm attempting to boost my skills. I even had a 92-pointer during a game of Scrabble ... an effort I'm quite certain will never be repeated on my end. But I turn back to see if Inspiration has come back for me, and I'm still left with a blank slate.

Sure, I read books. I love to read ... my nightstand will attest, thanks to the four pieces of fiction resting on its top. But it's hard for me to know how to extract anything of inspirational value from the books I make my way through.

I love interior design. The same friends' who provided a screening of "Stranger Than Fiction" are also redecorating their house. I find it difficult to keep my suggestions to myself. Not only is it most likely irritating, but I've got to keep some of these genius ideas for my own home ... even if it is 10 years down the road. But lately, excitement is an emotion I've experienced sporadically, so I have to seize it. I'm painting their bookshelves tonight.

So what else do I do? Nothing seems to attract the elusive Inspiration. But I'm not ready to consider the Creative Convent quite yet ...