tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52568873439466526472023-06-20T06:56:40.851-07:00i can't steal youUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5256887343946652647.post-74606952540093579142015-05-10T11:59:00.002-07:002015-05-10T11:59:15.014-07:00Things I Will Tell My Best Friend One DayUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5256887343946652647.post-45412731088740431342011-11-23T13:12:00.001-08:002011-11-23T13:12:37.730-08:00AMBIVALENT<br />
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torn between two opposing forces of actionUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5256887343946652647.post-58946626986974800962011-08-25T00:34:00.000-07:002011-08-25T00:35:42.236-07:00i've been listening to this song on a loop for hours now, non stop.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/HG1FlsgLQQY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
<br />
<i>"and if you don't love me let me go..."</i><br />
<br />
Is the (perhaps obvious) first line that attracted my ears and brain to this song, and it's <b>all I can listen to</b> whiling away the restless night.<br />
<br />
<br />
But having listened to this song non stop in these wee morning hours, another lyric has attracted my attention and it is so much more worthy of my attention, I mean after all, why fixate on the past? I <b>want so much more</b>, so this is my future, this is what I've always wanted, and this will consume my attention rather then the aforementioned subject:<br />
<br />
<i>"And I am a writer, writer of fictions</i><br />
<i>I am the heart that you call home</i><br />
<i>And I've written pages upon pages</i><br />
<i>Trying to rid you from my bones</i><br />
<i><b>I am a writer..."</b></i><br />
<br />
Okay now, that's the last of my emo-self for now. resolution. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5256887343946652647.post-78508436141371141622011-02-17T21:04:00.000-08:002011-02-17T21:04:21.571-08:00smashes into house with car, happens all the time, amirite?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">So I haven't been shoveling down the usual high fructose meals that I generally masticate, no I've been eating other things. </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Things with stuff like Fiber and Protein, but I've been awfully ill lately too, and I think that "real food" is making the situation worse. </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Whole lotta good "real food" does me, amirite? </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">-Well that or the fact that the other day for dinner I had 1/2 a pound of raw uncooked meat</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">...</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">-but my bets on the "real food." Anyways I've got a lot of couch time on my hands, so here's something I felt like sharing:</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"> 2010 was a car accident free year for me!*</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">And so far, 2011 is accident free as well!</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><i style="font-style: italic; line-height: 20px;">(Please, be impressed)</i></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Yes I haven't been in an accident, but my car's still taking quite a beating out here. The other day I rammed him into a snowbank, I was certain his tires would go rolling off but they didn't. Then the other night I plowed him into a house, but he's okkay.</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Now don't think I'm some sort of abusive car owner, I'm not. I know, I know, that's what all sadists say, but let me say somethings before you cast your judgment:</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" />First, I didn't plow into any old house, <br style="line-height: 20px;" />I plowed into my brother's house. So <br style="line-height: 20px;" />I feel like that makes it a little bit better. <br style="line-height: 20px;" />Also, I didn't realize I had plowed into his <br style="line-height: 20px;" />house. Well not until 4 days after the fact. So <br style="line-height: 20px;" />I feel like that makes it a little bit better. </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Parking at my house is tight, there are many cars, and not enough spots. In the parking lot, we become hostile and distrusting.</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">"They're going to park there?!? How's anyone suppose to squeeze around that stupid obese car? Not all can do those Fast-Furious moves you can MOM, pshh the nerve."</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"> On top of this, my little brother won't let me park next to him. As he explains "You're smart Maddyline, but you're stupid at walking, and turning on the lights, I can see you swinging around the corner to park, and *whoopsy daisy* so yeaaa maybe you can fit in that corner over there." </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">So I've been reduced to trying to wedge my car in this ditch of a corner. Impossible, but I've manged, until last week. I had left my car at a friend's house while I was off in Canada, and while I was gone it snowed. I drove carefully home and pulled into the driveway to park. </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Except there was nowhere to park. </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Literally, not even my ditch. </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">It had snowed a bunches, so naturally the driveway and parking lot had to be shoveled out -except it hadn't been. Rather, people had only shoveled their respected parking spots. Huh.</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Me) "Hey Mommy, little Brobee I'm home. So Canada was so cool, I wore iceskates and-"</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Ali) "Hey yea yea -watching the Office right now so..."</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Me) "Um so where am I suppose to park? There's no spot, and the snow is rock hard, so there's no way I could even try to blast a parking spot through--"</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Mum) "Madeleen es Office tiempo, go away!"</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Me) "But Mum, where am I suppose to park?!"</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Irate Mum) "Find spot somewhere and walk."</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">And so throwing popcorn kernels to shoo me away I find myself driving to my brother's house because he has a nice flat spacey driveway. Unfortunately the cars are parked haphazardly, but I see a space where I think I can manage to fit right next to his house. I sidle up closely with my music popping. It sounds different, but I haven't listened to music in a while. Oh did I bang against the corner of the house? Maybe... NO. If I did I definitely would've heard it over the music. I'm really tired. Reverse. Forward. Forward, Reverse. Gah. Just park.</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Days later, I catch up with my brother. Earlier he slipped on ice and reached for the porch to catch himself, but it fell apart, and so he fell and took his porch down with him. Preposterous. I take the opportunity to go to the car wash (long story, but l can only go with Miz, it's a requirement actually) and that's when I notice the huge dent on the right side of my car and a whole bunch of scratches. I tweak out. </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">"Where did this come from? I haven't even driven my car since leaving it at your house."</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">He quickly defends himself "Hey we didn't touch your car, so it wasn't us." </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">Replaying the brief driving I've done, and with a clear head it dawns on me, I know exactly how this huge dent and scratches happened. And so I confess to my brother:</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Me) "Hehe, yeah I wasn't accusing you. You know I would never get angry at you, even if it was in some weird way your fault... uhh by the way, so before this morning your porch was of sound quality?"</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Miz) "I didn't do it Maleen, and yeah, I mean we don't really use it, why?"</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Me) "Ehh the other night when I parked at your house, I was really tired and listening to music and it sounded different, but that's 'cause I hadn't listened to it in a while..Or so I thought... Eh I might have um hit your house..."</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Miz) "What?!"</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Me) "Yeah but I though it was my music so I just kept pulling forward and backward, I think at one point I thought maybe I had hit your house but then I thought nah it's just the music so I kept pulling forward... and maybe i dragged your porch forward, and when I reversed I think I dragged it tentatively back into place... but it wasn't attached to your house anymore so... that might be why it feel apart so easily... I mean maybe, it was probably a crappy porch anyways, hehe"</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Miz) Blinks at me.</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Me) "Don't tell Ali, this will just be one more thing I'm not allowed to do, like turning the lights on at home, or car washing, or come on, please? I've never done this!" </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Miz) Blinks at me.</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">(Me) "Let me treat me you to McDonalds."</span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><b style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px;"><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"></span></b><span style="color: #ffc000; font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><b style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px;">-yep that's me, stay classy, </b><span style="color: #92d050; line-height: normal;"><b style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px;">maddy <span style="color: #ffc000; line-height: normal;">:)</span></b></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" /></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><i style="font-style: italic; line-height: 20px;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" />*well technically I was in one minor accident but it wasn't quite my fault, so naturally that doesn't count</i></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5256887343946652647.post-80981197198378775712011-02-02T12:28:00.001-08:002011-02-02T12:28:51.361-08:00do you have hairnets?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Sadly this was the highlight of my day: <br />
<br />
"DO YOU HAVE HAIR NETS?" was the question asked, but it got filtered through my brain as "Do ya have inna-net?"<br />
"Yeah but there is some for free downstairs. you don't have to pay" I conspiratorially whisper, because after all, we are suppose to encourage customers to use Starbucks internet.<br />
<br />
wrong answer.<br />
<br />
The obese wannabe- midlife fashionista of a women shots me a dirty look, glares and snarls, "Not for me. For you." </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">you idiot</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"<br />
The last part she doesn't actually say out loud, but she doesn't need to, because we all know what words fill in the pregnant blank pause. A cascade of questions rush through my mind; why is this women concerned about my internet access usage? I mean that shows that she cares, right? But why does she care about me? Because caring is like love, right? How did she form such a deep well of emotion (for me!) in the brief period of time that I've been making her drink? But if she does care about me and is so concerned about my internet options then why is she being so snarky, and openly mean to me? A myriad of emotions filter through me. I feel special, hurt, confused. Trying to drum up an equal amount of emotion and care for this women as she has for me, I wonder exactly where this conversation is headed; and reply "What? I don't need it, I never use it, I have it at home."<br />
In a caps lock voice she barks "You have to wear one. You look like you're about to start shedding. In about an hour you're going to shed." Then it dawns on me that she said hair net and not internet.<br />
<br />
Oh.<br />
<br />
She snatches her nonfat smoothie (</span> <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">yeah, that will help</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">) and punctuality states "Put-- One-- On--" Pausing after each word, probably catching her breath because it's the most effort she's put into anything all week, yelling at a barista. Congratulations this is the highlight of your week. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">idiot</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span><br />
</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5256887343946652647.post-31792330450564848312011-01-28T21:28:00.000-08:002011-01-28T21:35:16.172-08:00Things To Do: Lie<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The average person lies 4 times a day.<br style="line-height: 17px;" />I don't though. and I just assumed that generally people don't lie. <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />Naive child that I was. <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />*******<br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />I like busy full days. I make lists of "Things To Do" with boxes, just so I can check-mark them later. It makes you feel like you've really accomplished something when you see all the boxes checked off. The lists come in handy too. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For example:</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once, I went to Foxwood Casino's and watched the entire series of Laguna Beach straight (in just 3 days! not once leaving the room!). A Coworker once heard this and said "<i>Maddy</i></span><i style="font-style: italic; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> you have no life</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">." Pulling out my notepad really fast I shouted with righteous indignation "What did you say? why yes I </span><i style="font-style: italic; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">do</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> have a life, let me show you these list. Man you're going to feel really stupid once you see these lists. Yeah you see those checkmarks? That's right! Who doesn't have a life now, huh? huh? Yeah. Step-off. What?!" <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />Yeah, you can earn mad respect with those lists.<br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />So anyways, it was a Friday. I was dawdling around downtown, lazily finishing up some errands, and I was feeling pretty good about myself. The sun was shining, birds chirping, men dabbing ketchup off their ties waiting for seconds at hot dog lady's cart, it was just a nice day to be downtown. Along with the weather, I was looking pretty nice myself. Now mind you, I'm not one to brag about myself, but that Friday I woke up incredibly early and thus had enough time to pick out a cute outfit, my hair for some reason was shiny and frizz free, my eyebrows didn't look like fat caterpillars, and I had gone for a run that morning so according to my mom my "Face looks alive, not like skin of dead man." <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />I looked great. When you know you look great you act more confidant.<br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />So I'm slapping high fives, saying hi with some of the regular good looking customers I bumped into, even the homeless were in awe of me because they didn't ask me for any money like they always do. I was quite taken with how everyone was reacting and treating me differently due to my awesome appearance. It was magic. So the day was winding down and I had one last task, I had to get my picture taken for my school ID. I find my way to the ID center and the other students let me go in front of them, and I find myself at the front of the line (magic, right?). I say my ID number (earlier that day I had a dentist appointment and had a filling done, so my mouth was still a little numb from the Novocaine, but I managed to slur out my numbers) and finally time for the photo.<br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />I smile.<br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />The guy looks out from over his camera and says "Actually why don't you just look at the fish, you don't have to smile." <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />Weird. Alright. <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />I look at the fish, wait a few moments and finally get my ID. I was expecting it to be my best ID yet but words cannot describe my initial reaction. Surely there was some kind of mistake? Bad lighting? But I knew that even bad lighting couldn't make me look this bad. I bolted to the nearest bathroom covering my face with my hands. <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />My ID didn't do me justice. Have you ever seen a person's face who has had a seizure? Often a side is entirely limp, no muscles, no structure, just there, blah. That was my face, but ten times worse. I knew I couldn't talk very well, I was slurring my words all day, but since I thought I looked awesome I wasn't really listening to myself and just assumed I sounded like a cute foreign girl. My left side was, oh my. It looked like somebody had used only the left side of my lips as a punching bag, huge, inflated, purply, and droopy. When I smiled it just made it hang and droop more so. My eye was hiding behind the fluffy folds of my massively inflated left cheek. And there was some saliva... dribbling off my chin. I had absolutely no control of anything, and when I attempted to talk it just made more dribble. I was a monster. The grossest looking monster I'd ever seen. <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />My 1st task for that day was a dentist appointment (fillings). I have always had laughing gas administered, because I can't deal with needles. That morning I decided I was ready to face the needle, and so Novocaine was used. Leaving the dentist I couldn't feel the left side of my face, or really talk, but I managed to ask "Is my face puffy or something?" he said "Not at all, you'll talk funny for maybe an hour and a half but it will wear off." </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I left, putting full trust in what my dentist say. <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />There I was all day, saying hi and being all flirty and cute.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With everyone. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was so happy. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees was playing in the back of my head while I walked down the streets that day because I felt like magic. Turns out, nope, not. When people said "Hi Maddy!" they were actually saying "um hi... Maddy?" </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the high fives, ouch, I don't really want to think about how I looked. Shouting not "High Five" in a cute little foreign voice but more like "Huhwhy Fuhwhy! Huhwhy Fuwhy!" in a special type of voice. And of course they gave me a high five, I'm the town simpleton, pity the special kid with drool on her chin and just give her a high five. Man I looked... Of course the homeless didn't ask me for money that day, would you ask for money from a person who had a seizure?<br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />Moral of the story? I'm allergic to Novocaine. and also:<br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />Never put full trust in anyone, much less your dentist. <br style="line-height: 17px;" /><br style="line-height: 17px;" />Anyways, I hope life has treated you far more kindly then it has me recently.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-m&m</span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5256887343946652647.post-67371876136293992682011-01-03T00:13:00.000-08:002012-06-28T01:54:57.947-07:00dating my little brother, an option?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Hey so this is what I've got to say:</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>So it seems like life is throwing me alot of awkward situations lately, and it's getting kind of annoying. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>In the past month I've been asked out three times; which is nice and usually a major self esteem booster, but not really. Anyways here's one out of three:</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So my little brother asked me out.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guess it's kind of my fault, but I didn't know that this was going to happen.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He just showed up at my work like he usually does, but this time instead of discussing how much we hate bums he was said "Hey you want to go out with me sometime? Get drinks or something?" </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*silence*</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Awwwwkward.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Right?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's what I said.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Oh no! This is super awkward, umm... that's really sweet, yeah I like you, you're really nice, but, umm... you're my little brother, so it kind of makes me feel weird, sorry if I gave you the wrong impression and yeah..."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I scurried to the back and hid until he left.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is kind of my fault though, it started a couple of weeks ago, and maybe if I hadn't said anything to him this never would have happened, but I was so happy to see him that of course I said "Hey!"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a busy hectic Saturday afternoon and I was on bar making drinks. I was in a zone. Ignoring everything and robotically making whatever was thrown my way.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ice grande skinny carmel latte!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BAM</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">tall non fat extra hot latte!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BAM</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">venti vani--- "Hey!" </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And there's Ali eyeing some merchandise, and I'm so happy to see him. You see, my family never goes into my work, ever. My mom has been into a Starbucks twice I think, and Ali (my little brother) is not interested in coffee, and thinks the Starbucks scene is too fake anyways. So it's weird that he's here. He nods at me, and then he grabs the drink I placed on the counter, and starts to leave, but I shout "Hey come back!" </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've got so many questions running through my mind, like: When did he start drinking frappaccinos? And my, my, my, isn't he looking quite posh, (he's decked out in Hollister and Abercrombie), what's up? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He comes back with a very confused look on his face (but I don't notice) and I just start talking "Hey Ali what's up, you're looking quite nice, why are you he-" </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"My name's not Ali," he says flatly.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I start to laugh, take a second, stop making drinks, and look very closely at him. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yep, it's not Ali.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the only outstandingly clear feature that this is not my little brother is his teeth, this kid is slightly snaggletoothed, and Al certainly doesn't have the best teeth, but they're better than this kid's. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now normally I would be incredibly embarrassed by the situation, but I'm not.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He reminds me so much of Ali that I immediately feel comfortable with him. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I keep talking</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Oh man, hey my little brother looks just like you, like wow. Anyways so today I parked. I saw a mangled Aux cable outside, and thought "I pity that fool" 'caus they'</span></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">re like 20 bucks, and I got mine free, I'd never want to actually pay for one, but then I looked over and realized "oh crap that one's mine," it had been dragging outside of my door the entire way over here so now I have to buy a new one. Fail. Its been a bad day, how about you buddy?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And so, h</span></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">e came in whenever he worked (he works at Abercrombie) and I found out he's Mexican too (but his name's Enrique), and he called me Maddy 'cause he heard Ali call me that (I dragged Ali into Abercrombie, and yep, he agrees, they do look similar) and I called him Little Brother #2, and he trusted my opinion so he always bought whatever I recommended, </span></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and it was great, it was really great...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but then he messed it all up, and asked me out on a real date, and now, well, it's awkward....</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5256887343946652647.post-24563627301694018752010-11-17T19:49:00.000-08:002010-11-17T20:00:31.559-08:00you're invite to my dance party!<div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">DANCE PARTY IN MY ROOM RIGHT NOW</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">DROP EVERYTHING </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">AND COME CELEBRATE WITH ME</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Preferably if you're holding something fragile (e.g porcelain doll, ice cream, baby, plate of dishes) you're near a pillow or something to cushion it's fall.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">why the celebration?</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because i'm not sick anymore! </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">(Actually I quite enjoy being sick) </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">You dawdle all day in deliciously warm comforters napping, it doesn't matter what you eat (you're just going to throw it up later!) and thus you almost always lose weight, Rufi acknowledges your existence and pays some attention to you, and you finally get to wear your most comfortable clothes in the world because nobody’s going to see you, so bust out the plus sized maternity wear you’ve bought and snuggie-up because being sick is vacation.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Except this time.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">So back in high school days, I would often cut math class because I’m a blooming idiot (with anything math related) and so why be in class? A fellow classmate shared my sentiments, so we would nip over to her house where she would feed me EasyMac (my “land of milk and honey” food, it was all I wanted in high school, and was always slightly out of reach because Rufi thinks it’s food for the street, i.e only trashy people like harlots and hustlers eat EasyMac). One day though she didn’t have EasyMac to share all she had was shepherd’s pie. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">oh my. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And that was the first and last time I ever had shepherd’s pie; until last Monday, when I found out Rufi had taken a stab at making a classic American dinner and made just that. I ate 89% of her shepherd’s pie dish that night and went to bed full of mashed potatoes, corn, and beef.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">so happy.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Unfortunately I don’t think Mexicans are suppose to excel at American cooking (we can’t be great at everything). The next day I walked around in a nauseous queasy state the entire day. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Work, school, work, school, finally! home. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">On top of the massive pit of shepherd’s pie in my stomach I had managed to catch a nice head cold that day as well, and finally my body violently took me down. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Throwing up, down, sideways, everywhere. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Barely conscience, curled into the fetal position, I realized I had to open the store tomorrow morning, and that was the last thing I remember thinking about. The following is the best description of the voicemail I sent her that night.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">“Eeeehhhhh Moooooo? Mooooo? Mo it’s me Marilyn. *weeping openly into my phone* I dunno if you’re there, or if this is you, but I’m not s-s-strong, I wish I could be strong for you, but I don’t know if 5 AM is gonna happen for me, I’m sorry, I just- - *throw up* ohhhhh Moooooo I’ll do it if I have to but I don’t what’s going to happen to me, I’m so scared, hold me, Mo, please” and then I guess cried for the next 3 1/2 minutes into her voicemail until it disconnected. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Now again, generally I don’t mind being ill, but that Friday I had setup five interviews to go on, and somewhere in between that I had a huge exam to turn in. So I emailed my teacher explaining how sick I was but she was nice enough to reply back “Aww that’s too bad, hope you feel better! The policy is though there is no makeup, so if you’re not in class you get no credit.” </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>“Hope you feel better!” </i></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">stupid exclamation point. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">heartless wench.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">So Friday I make myself decent. Got out of the maternity wear, wash up, brush up, and smile. I knew that was the classiest I was going to get so I head out hoping that I can keep my act together for at least two interviews. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Thankfully (?) I bump into a friend downtown and she informs me “You look lovely Marilyn, but maybe you should buy a new sweater if you have time, just you know.. ‘Kay hope it goes well!” and she abandons me. I don’t quite know what she inferring about my sweater but I decide I might as well buy a sweater. I head into the nearest clothing store and grab the first sweater I see. When I look in the mirror I realize why my friend told me to buy a sweater. Unfortunately I didn’t want to show up at an interview blowing into Kleenex (very unprofessional) so I didn’t bring any with me, but because of that throughout the day I had been discreetly (so I thought) wiping off my nose with my sleeve. Except it wasn’t so discreet, and I was basically wearing a snot covered sweater. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>Classy. </i></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I buy and change into a nice fresh sweater (the sales associate that was helping me was acting crazy psycho saying such things like “What a great sweater! It’s sweater weather already! burrr! Where do ghetto people live in your sweater? THE HOOD! hardyharhar” and I’m like OKAY, yeah have a good day. BYE) and head to my first interview. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">On time, I’m sitting at the table trying to keep my composure. Fixed smile, I easily breeze through the interview until my nose starts to drip. Like mad. I focus in on the napkin at a nearby table and wonder if it’d be rude to grab it and blow my nose...? I don’t know the rules, so I do what anyone does when they have nothing, I start wiping the nose on the back of my hand. Casually. Trying to make her not notice, I start unintentionally talking crazy “Hey Deb, by the way have you noticed how cold it is lately? Burrr. It’s sweater weather! </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>*leaning across the table I whisper* </i></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I just bought this great sweater actually... Hey where do ghetto people live in a sweater? THE HOOD! huyuck huyuck huyuck!!!!”</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">(sadly, that’s actually exactly what my nervous laugh sounds like) </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Needless to say the interview ended shortly after that, and again, not knowing what to do, I offer a handshake goodbye, except she’s been watching me wipe my snot on the back of my hand for the past twenty minutes, and she doesn’t want to shake my hand, I can see that in her eyes, but now we don’t know what to do, and it’s weird and awkward, and finally she grasps just my fingertips and I walk away knowing full well that there is no point in continuing my day, and head home, and throw back on my maternity wear. </span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Now I feel better, so hopefully I catch up with life,</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">after my awesome dance party in my room though :)</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 18.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px 'Geeza Pro'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0