Friday, September 28, 2007

Roommate Tiffany's last hurrah!

whiitethrash: oh my god
whiitethrash: tiffany just got home
whiitethrash: and goes in her room
whiitethrash: and is like
whiitethrash: sasha!! are you playing a trick!
whiitethrash: and i'm like
whiitethrash: what?
whiitethrash: and she's like
whiitethrash: who put this lizard on my pillow!!
whiitethrash: and i'm like, what lizard
whiitethrash: and i go in her room and there's this tiny baby lizard on her pillow
whiitethrash: and i'm like, dude, i didn't put that there.
whiitethrash: and then she asked if you did
whiitethrash: and i'm like, but i'll catch it and put it outside
whiitethrash: and shes like
whiitethrash: WAIT ITS REAL??
whiitethrash: OMG
whiitethrash: OMG
whiitethrash: WHY IS IT IN HERE
whiitethrash: IS THAT WHAT KEPT BITING ME IN THE FACE ALL NIGHT
whiitethrash: and she shows me her chin and it has bite marks on it
whiitethrash: which are clearly
whiitethrash: FROM A BUG
whiitethrash: CUZ SHE SLEEPS ON THE FLOOR
whiitethrash: and then i had to catch the lizard
whiitethrash: and before i know it
whiitethrash: it pops off its tail
whiitethrash: which makes tiffany very unhappy
whiitethrash: and its just moving and jumping
whiitethrash: i totally see how beneficial that is for the lizard
whiitethrash: cuz even i, as a human being, expecting that to happen, was distracted by it.
whiitethrash: eventually tiffany runs out of the room and grabs a cup
whiitethrash: and is like, NOT TODAY!!!!
whiitethrash: and puts the lizard under it
whiitethrash: which isn't very helpful cuz then there's just a lizard under a cup on the carpet
whiitethrash: but i got it and took it outside and she threw away the tail
whiitethrash: and right now she just wheeled her suitcase out of the hall closet and she is going to start packing for tomorrow.
whiitethrash: sigh.
roommatekirsten: ahahahahahha

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Roommate Tiffany: The End

Roommate Tiffany informed me last week, or perhaps even the week before, that she would be moving out before October. Her friend leased a house or some junk and Tiffany gets her own bathroom. That was the big seller. I guess I can't really blame her after the tampon incident. But damn. I will miss her sillyness.

Last weekend I asked her when she would be moving out. The conversation went a little like this...

Me: So when are you going to move out exactly?
Roommate Tiffany: Well, my friend said we could move in Friday, but I don't think I'll have all my stuff packed by then.
Me: ...sheets?


I'll miss that rainstick, maybe.

Besides that, I have had another handful of job interviews. Craigslist - either you are worthless or I am!! Because I am still unemployed. I even went to a Hallmark store for a job. Yes, Hallmark. Not such a bad idea IN THEORY though, because after all, I do want to illustrate children's books and greeting cards and I like big air conditioned rooms and having very few customers. So, you know, naturally it ended up being the worst fucking idea.

Yeah I didn't get it. There are a few reasons why. One being when I walked in, the manager told me I had "way too many piercings" for Hallmark's "very conservative environment". Whatever. Eight. All in my ears. They come out, you know. They do. I just unhook the back and they come right out! Sure, my ears are way uglier without them due to my susceptibility to keloids (ew!), but give a girl a break! But, it might also have way more to due with the personality test I had to take. Scantron style. I was told it would take at least forty minutes. Of course I pulled it off in 25-30. And I'm an honest gal. Not really. But sometimes. But when you hand me a bunch of questions essentially all boiling down to three basic ideas (1. Would I report a co-worker for stealing merchandise 2. Do I think it's okay to hire employees who "recreationally smoke marijuana" 3. Would I alert a manager if someone were drinking or doing drugs on the clock. Well, No - because I would be that employee, Yes, because I would be that employee, and lastly - No, because, I would be that employee!!!) I'm going to answer them the only way I know how. Honestly. It was actually very annoying, because it was the same basic four or five questions each repeated twenty different ways. Although the occasional random question made it quite entertaining. My favorites included, "Would it be a mistake to hire you?" (I hope they didn't notice the eraser residue on that bubble...) and "When you get angry do you break things and throw stuff?" I sure don't! But I curse a lot. Is that a problem?

Oh well. I also had to take a test for Borders. Actually the entire application is just an online personality test. Did I mention I've taken it at least four times before and never received a call back? What am I doing wrong!!! Oh well. And, this might infuriate Gem, but I applied at Whole Foods. I promise to save boxes though. ...if I get it. Which I wont. So no big deal, right?

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Pigeon Poo

Recently, as in, last week, as in, like, Wednesday, I was searching craigslist for a job. Because I've been doing that every day since May (and I still don't have one BTW). I stumbled across an ad (which is no longer up or I'd screen cap it for sure) asking for someone to assist in the "cleaning and training" of their carrier/racer/homing pigeons.

No thanks!, right?? WRONG. Because it was only about three hours a week and twenty bucks an hour and it fit into my "ridiculously impossible to become employed" school schedule. So I was like, EFF YES MOTHER EFFER WOO! And I called them up and had an interview on Saturday morning.

Twenty bucks an hour is like heaven to me. The last time I was making twenty bucks an hour I was teaching an after school drawing program to elementary schoolers and I wanted to die. Cleaning pigeon poo would be a breeeeeze compared to monitoring fifteen eight year olds with markers and a sugar high.

(PS, has anyone noticed I've been punctuating this entry? CuhRazy.)

I assumed the interview would be me being taught what to do and walking away with a job. But, as it turned out, after walking through numerous "lofts" crammed with pigeons cooing in my ear and being asked silly questions like, "You aren't afraid of birds, are you?", I shook the man's hand and heard the horrible following words...

"Well I have a few more interviews today, but I will call you this evening."

What?? Other people responded to that ad?? Really?? I never would have come had I known that. Because if I have learned anything since losing my job in May it's that if there's another applicant I will not get the job and they will! I never get the job! They always get the job! God damn it!

The worst fucking idea of it all was to tell people that I was going in to apply for this job at all! Because now I have to tell them all that I didn't get it!

So does this mean I'm...really really overqualified??.... or really really underqualified...??


Oh. Fucking. Well.


Anyway, here are my two favorite haikus from yesterday. Also, I think Gem is way funnier than I am and makes way better posts than I do. Just thought I'd say that.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

THUNDERDOME! and possible final blog ever.

So, I'm packing as we speak to go to Seattle tonight. All this week people have been wishing me luck, saying heartfelt goodbyes, and saying they're really going to miss me. My mom and sister even came down to visit on Thursday. And we all went to a meet and greet/fare well dinner with Emma, Kaitlin, and Mary. Katie and Emma called me on speaker phone last night to tell me they're going to miss me, but I'd talked to them less than an hour before and would see them less than an hour later. It was really starting to creep me out, the melodrama. So, I'm convinced I will probably die on this trip. Now, I'm not afraid of planes and I don't think someone will kill me, but you know, I might die. Everyone has said their final goodbyes and I've spent time with everyone I really love and I think it would be okay, really. I guess. I mean, as okay as dying can be. So, it is not so amazing this blog entry, it's not so WFI, but it may be my last WFI and final blog ever. So, you're going to have to read it and like it. If I live to tell the tales of my future misadventures, I'll remember your goodwill in reading this story of Thunderdome and grace you with PICTURE blogs as I've bought a new camera. Stay tuned. I'm sure Sasha will have at least 88 blogs to keep you entertained between now and my computer ETA next week.s

Intent on having one fantastic night of fun before I leave for my 10 day trip to the northwest coast and my imminent death, I initially wanted to beg for tickets outside Rilo Kiley and see my favorite band in the entire world for the 10th time or so, go out dancing and crash before 3 to wake up early and do laundry and pack. I spent most of the day incredibly stressed out doing all the errands I needed to get done before leaving. In typical fashion, I had a small, hunger induced emotional meltdown on the phone in a changing room at the mall and me and Emma decided to scrap that idea and just go to some dance party later on.

Then I ate mall chinese food and fuck anyone who thinks that's anywhere near a BFI. Cause it's not. I ate it in the cab home and got sticky shit all over me. Eating greasy food in the dark is really difficult. I like to think perhaps the last advice I'll ever give you is "Don't eat mall chinese food in a cab." Makes slipping into eternity all the more comforting.

Moving on. We were invited to a dance party by my ongoing 1A. He's neat. And since we can't go anywhere without a group, Heidi, Elise, Elise's friends, Heidi's friend Brittany, and Patti all met us there. We didn't know what to expect really. I imagined a super sweaty dance party in a cramped legion hall, shirtless boys hanging from American flag poles, girls we don't know who don't want to be friends with us lined up at the bathroom, inventing new dance moves to avoid people we know and don't like while trying to strategically dance near cute boys, and general mayhem. Our usual Friday night. We show up to the American Legion on the Charles in Cambridge and the party is outside! Next to the river! There's beer! There's flashing lights! Theres tons of people we DON'T know! Awesome. I guess it was like a rave only not completely retarded. I've really only seen those things happen in Lifetime movies. Although I can't say anyone wasn't slipped roofies and raped last night, I CAN say there were several djs, we drank several beers, we hung out with several friends we actually like, and had several hours of fun. What what!

Thunderdome Recap:
Sweaty dance party: negative
Fun non-sweaty dance party: CHECK! (my favorite kind!)
Idiot boys: negative
Girls in bathroom line: indoors
People we know and don't like: nowhere in sight.

Who could ask for more?

Toward the end of the night Mary says, "Hey that guy looks like Craig!" Emma says, "Everyone here looks like Craig!" Then I said, "It is Craig!!!" Craig is like, king of Boston bike dudes, is some sort of team leader, and had some organizational role in the Pee Party. I don't really know him or much about him, but he's one of Emma's best friends. So we hung out with Craig for a little bit to find an after party with some pot since I left my drugs at home. After much discussion (Should we go to the Hills? [Mission Hill, that is] Should we go to our house? Should we not go at all? Should Mary take that guy home? OMG WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO), we settled on bourbon and drugs at Craig's house. I would have been content to go home and sleep knowing all the things I had to do today. So, we head over to Craig's, smoke, listen to music, talk about bikes, look at pictures, watch Mary swing on Craig's swing, I fall asleep and before you know it it's 5:30 in the morning! Before you know it? That's like Nexthingyouknow. Nexthingyouknow??? What?! Anyway, the WFI here is DON'T GO OUT ALL NIGHT WHEN YOU HAVE TO DO LAUNDRY ALL DAY AND FLY TO SEATTLE IN LESS THAN 12 HOURS.

The end.

Please send good I hope Gem lives vibes. I appreciate them.

Friday, September 21, 2007

HAIKU!!

omg, did anyone know craigslist has a whole forum where people just post HAIKU poems???!!!! amazing!!! it's on the bottom left side BTW. and it's definitely worth your time.

this was my favorite for the day!


Thursday, September 20, 2007

craigslist time!











also, here are some future WFI posts to be ready for, because right now they were totally really great ideas (tRGIs) but pretty soon they will become really really bad ideas (RRBIs), and then ultimately, the worst fucking ideas...

•fucking with things that don't belong to me but to someone else in the art department - and i hate her.
•the reason i googled "racing pigeons"
•pissing off Gem (see the previous two posts)

Monday, September 17, 2007

Fuck you.

I wrote about almost being peed on, so fuck you. I'm sorry my life isn't as tragic as yours.

I'm going to go make cheesecake and buy a digital camera.

Also, edit my posts and I will send you anthrax in the mail. <3

Sunday, September 16, 2007

WFI - sharing a blog with Gem who NEVER CONTRIBUTES

or is it, WFI - sharing a blog with LEWIS who contributes far too much!!!


either way, i have a few things for today.

THING NUMBER ONE

we'll start off with my bike!!

it now looks like this....



and you might say spray painting my "pretty bike" a ghastly florescent orange, and not even limiting the paint to the frame but painting the tires/pedals/gears/spokes was the worst fucking idea. but i think it's a wonderful theft deterrent (and waaaay less geeky than the purple...)!

THING NUMBER TWO

here is a screen shot of our site meter - which monitors who comes here, how long they stay, where they're from, how they got here etc (because we like to pretend we are important enough to know that stuff). most of our hits come from people looking for PEE PORN. because of this!!!



and

THING NUMBER THREE

a wonderful craigslist personal ad. WFI all the way.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

a night of brandi carlile: or, another reason why i am "sorta gay".

so last night i randomly decided to go to the brandi carlile show because i heard she's pretty good.

okay okay, i'll admit it: i have been planning all month to go because i fucking love her albums.

WHAT'S IT TO YA????

obviously i don't feel that my owning every single juliana hatfield album (including imports and singles!!!), six jordana brewster movies, three kelly clarkson posters (and her calendar) and two pairs of GAP Boyfriend jeans is gay enough, so i sometimes feel the need to seek out live music by lesbian icons. and i've been doing it for years!!!!

but last night was different...because somehow, despite the beautiful calming sound of an acoustic guitar and two bald men harmonizing background vocals...

i got into a verbal altercation with two blonde, drunk, thirty something california girls women womyn drunk whores.

the story isn't even that great. in fact the only really great part about it was that it happened at a brandi carlile show!! who does that??!! so here it is in short:

two girls = super drunk and super loud. there is nothing wrong with talking at a concert, but there is something cuuuuhraaazyyyy when your voice carries over the music, which is being run through AMPLIFIERS. like woah! i can hear every syllable! every single syllAAAAAble!!

the group behind these girls had asked them to quiet down, resulting in their extremely rude, obnoxious, middle-school like response of "NO WE AREN'T. YOU CAN MOVE THEN. OHMYGOD CALM DOWN." followed by them talking shit about the group who asked them to be quiet, but loudly enough for them to hear it - you know what i mean? there was also some neck action/snapping in the face and it was just lame.

and then i felt it... one of them tapped on my back... she wanted to talk to me...

"hey can i ask you a question??? are we being too loud??"

keep in mind, the show is going on. music is being played. and yes, they were being loud.

my response?

"well, do you want me to make up an answer? or tell you the truth? i can do either, i'm super good at making stuff up."

eek! people are watching!

blahblahblah, then they got all offended, and i tried to calm them down...

"you're drunk, you're loud, just quiet down and have fun! it's cool! we're all friends here!"

oh no! the extra drunk friend responds with, "I'M NOT DRUNK AND WE AREN'T BEING LOUD!" oh no, she put her finger in my face. IN MY FACE.

oh no, my passive aggressive form of confrontation (aka my PAFoC) kicks in and i say: "lady, that is the biggest lie i've heard all week. ALL WEEK LONG. since last saturday. the biggest, worst, lamest lie i have ever heard. out of the hundreds of lies i have heard in the last seven days, yours is number one. liar liar liar! now just shut up!"

OH MY GOD. i turned around before she could punch me in the face pour her beer in my hair call me fat, and when i looked back later on - they were both gone.... [ooooOOOOooooOOOOooOoohHHhhhh....!!] and that's when the praise came from the surrounding concert goers. shaking my hand, patting me on the back and i believe someone threw out "you're my hero" or two. no, seriously! aint no thang!

i don't know what the WFI was here, but i just had to share that story.

also, here is my favorite piece of dialogue from the evening. setting: the nastiest dive bar of all time, in the back alley where everyone goes to smoke cigarettes. players: drunk Sarah, her friend Wasted Emily, and a Random Girl eating a Slim Jim.

drunk sarah and wasted emily are rolling their own cigarettes. wasted emily is wearing cut off shorts, and drunk sarah is wearing a wife beater.

Wasted Emily to Random Girl: I hope you don't think we're trashy cuz we're rolling our own cigarettes!!

drunk sarah: ::giggle!::

Random Girl: i'm eating a slim jim!!!!


alright! that's it! bye!

Friday, September 14, 2007

wfi BFI - buying a crummy bike off craigslist!

(i apologize for the weird format of this conversation, i was on ADIUM instead of AIM)

whiitethrash: oh man are you ready for a great story

roommatekirsten: YESSS

whiitethrash:

so i get there
his only instructions were
"from warner, make a left, two blocks a right, then a right, then a left, then the blue van is in the driveway"

roommatekirsten: AHAHAHA

did you find it?

whiitethrash:

yes
and its a total creepster van
old conversion van
dirty
cracked windows
and im like
oh god

roommatekirsten:

was he inside the van?
wearing a clown mask

whiitethrash:

and there isnt a door in the front of the house you have to go around the back
so i go around back
and ring the doorbell
and no answer
and the backyard/patio is like, 2 feet from the door
and theres no fence or anything
so i hear him back there
and peek around the corner
and introduce myself
and he is this tall
skinny
old man
with a beard
and missing teeth
and wearing velcro shoes

roommatekirsten:

oh. he must be friendly
!!!
velcro shoes
and a beard!

whiitethrash

and his shorts were pulled really high

roommatekirsten

ahaha
cute

whiitethrash

and he had a NAVY hat on
and he was like
oh sasha! oh no! i tried to call you
and he sounded sad
and he was like
i can't find that bike...
i dont know where i put it..

roommatekirsten

ahahahahahahahahahaha

whiitethrash

meanwhile i saw the bike in the driveway

roommatekirsten

BAHAHAHAHAHA

whiitethrash

and i was like - oh i think i saw it out front
and he was like
no its not there...
but i have all these others bikes!

roommatekirsten

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH

whiitethrash

he had like, ten other bikes around and was all...
so i can give you one of these for 30!
this is the prettiest bike!
and he pulls out some shit junk purple bike
and he was like
i think you should have the prettiest bike!

roommatekirsten

OMG!

whiitethrash

and i checked it out
and he's telling me how he loves bikes cuz he has titanium hips and weak knees.
i'm not sure the connection between all that...

roommatekirsten

i love this man

whiitethrash

so i was like
its good
for 30$ its great
and you are the cutest old smelly toothless man ever
and he's like
do you have a helmet?

hahahaha

roommatekirsten

ahahahahahahahaha

whiitethrash

and i was like
OH FOR SURE
BUT I DIDNT BRING IT!
and he was like, good! everyone should wear a helmet!

roommatekirsten

ahahahaha

whiitethrash

let me show you what i can do!

roommatekirsten

this man is awesome

whiitethrash

and he got on the bike

roommatekirsten

abahahahahaha

whiitethrash

and proceeded to ride it
through the grass
to the driveway
and past my car
which is blatantly in the driveway
he stops and is all, "where did you park?"
uh, right here sir!
hahaha
so we go over to my car
and put it in the trunk
and hes like
BMW - that's a fine machine!
and i was like
if only you knew...
and he didn't want to scratch the paint
so he props the bike up on stuff i had in my trunk
and then he's like
let me get you a bungee cord!
so the trunk will stay closed!
and he gets me one out of the creeper van
and then shakes my hand
and tells me i have the prettiest bike
and then i left!
i actually think it needs new tires, but it's fine for now, and i don't even care cuz the story is just so good.


so yeah. here's the bike i went to get:



here's the bike i got...:

the best SPAM ever.

i hate SPAM. but that doesn't mean i don't go into my SPAM folder and read some of it. this one caught my attention, and in the end, i think it's fabulous. i still haven't clicked the link though. i don't love spam THAT much.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

roommate tiffany update!

whiitethrash: so this morning
whiitethrash: i thought tiffany left her alarm on
whiitethrash: cuz i heard this sound coming from her room for literally
whiitethrash: a half hour
whiitethrash: but it wasn't too annoying cuz it just sounded like one of those nature clocks
whiitethrash: that wakes you up like
whiitethrash: "calmly"
whiitethrash: it sounded like a rainstick.
whiitethrash: turns out
whiitethrash: she was really just in there
whiitethrash: for a half hour
whiitethrash: playing with a rainstick.





and so the worst fucking idea would be: to NOT live with roommate tiffany!

and just in case you want to keep count, here's a list of tiffany's current possessions:

•sheets and a pillow (no bed!)
•one suitcase filled with clothes
•thirteen canisters of tennis balls
•an ironing board + iron
•a teddy bear and a bunny rabbit
•one rainstick


roommate kirsten and i give her two thumbs up.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

craigslist time!!!

responding to any of the following three would be a pretty bad idea, but the 3rd one specifically would be the WORST FUCKING IDEA. anyway... enjoy!! try not to throw up!!






and this one isn't a personals ad, but far too incredible to not post!


Sunday, September 9, 2007

WFI: Peeing on other people.

So I went to a party last night. A bike messenger party. After a race. In 90 degree heat. I think everyone was delirious and drunk and wet with sweat. We went for a dance party, but there were other ideas in other minds.

We arrive to the loft space and wait in a line 6 deep to pee in a bathroom with no toilet paper. Thank god for coffee filters! I've only been in a comparably grimy bathroom in rest stops in Jersey. Also, they do their dishes in the bathroom sink. Ew.

Moving into the larger dance space filled with about 100 sweaty, barely clothed, well tattooed, long haired boy bike messenger bodies, we are all in the dark. I am alone then looking for Mary or Emma or Lola or Craig or just anyone I know. The music has stopped. There are minutes of nervous confusion walking through the steamy room thick with pot odor and beer sweating of all the boys, groping everyone to find people I knew. Suddenly, the lights are back on and a babe with a megaphone is announcing the drinking contest. The rules: You must drink a can of PBR in the allotted amount of time while everyone holds a shiny tarp above their heads. When the megaphone announces NEW BEER, you drink another. If you haven't finished your last one you are out. Last one standing wins $500. P.S. You must clean your own piss or puke. When it starts, it is mayhem. I run to Mary in the corner. All the boys are going crazy, yelling, drinking, throwing beer cans, stepping on them, spraying beer everywhere. It lasted about 15 minutes. That's like 15 beers. When there is a final winner, everyone who has a beer dumps it on the poor/rich guy. There is beer raining everywhere in the room and a half inch of liquid pooling on the floor. WE WERE HAVING SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!

Then the WFI/greatest thing happened. Amidst the mayhem, there is a guy in the center of the crowd who whips his dick out and starts peeing straight up in the air peeing on everyone in sight. Mary and I run into a corner and hide behind two other boys. This guy's bladder was bottomless. He just peed on everyone everywhere. Then someone pushes him away and yells at him and he stops peeing. Only moments later he begins peeing again. Suddenly a large, sexy black man runs across the room like a dark knight in shining armor and punches the kid in the face three times knocking him into the speakers and dropping the speaker into the dj table. WE WERE HAVING SO MUCH MORE FUN!!!!! Dude fucking deserved it! DON'T PEE ON PEOPLE!!!! I was nervous we were going to have a fight club moment, but Babe With a Megaphone goes over to calm down Sexy Black Guy and the crisis is averted.

After the owner of the loft mopped up the pee and beer and sweat, the lights were off again and the dance party was back on. We danced like we had never danced before. People trickled out of the room and we were soon the owners of the dance floor. We were maniacs. Maniacs on the floor. We were dancing like we never danced before. When we gave up hours later, the fun was officially over. We ARE the party and we were leaving.

Out on the street trolling for dirty, drunk boys to take home (the good ones were gone already), we met a girl named Padmani which looks nice and all but sounds like Pudmoney. She was a wasted riot. I fell asleep in the car and woke up to a dehydrated headache.

WFI: Peeing on people. BFI: Having the most fun friends.

Friday, September 7, 2007

WFI = Changing Doctors

So my old doctor/pediatrician/my mother's good friend had to go when i turned 22. well, she didn't HAVE to by law or anything, but she had to for me to be sane. because in case you didn't read what i just wrote she was a pediatrician and my mother's good friend. And i was 22. and shouldn't be hanging out in a waiting room with dinosaurs painted on the walls and a Playskool kitchen set in the corner while my mom's dinner and a movie buddy runs her hands all over my body. no thank you! also, you know, since she's my mom's friend, every time she asked me anything with the words "sex" or "drugs" in the question i just automatically had to answer no NEVER!!! for fear that if i said yes she would scurry into her little office, pick up her little cell phone and dial my mother!!! and then i would be so grounded...


nonsense!!!!

so new doctor time!


and my first appointment was yesterday.

I answered all their silly questions about family history (most of which i think i guessed on...because as it turns out, i don't know anything about my family at all!). Even on my OWN PERSONAL HISTORY. "So, you mention you see a cardiologist, what conditions do you have?" "Well, i don't remember the name of it but it has to do with like, something in my chest not working right and then a family history of something involving elevated levels of stuff i shouldn't have in my body."

specific.

"mmhmmm..." says the doctor lady. "well if you were taking this medication, then i'm assuming you had ::insert name of some problem::." "i think i've heard that before. i have that. yeah. that's the heart thing." (by the way, it's not, i later found out)

anyway, then she says, "and how about pap smears. are you regular on those??"

GET OUT OF TOWN. NO. STOP.

"let's do one right now!"
"no."

i dont think this woman has ever been told no before. she was so confused. her eyes screamed, "no? what? but the speculum is out already! and i just put on this glove!"

"no, we can skip that today. i'm not really interested in having that done."

silence.

"so...is that it?" i asked her.

and no. she took her glove off and asked me if she could "at least" do a breast exam.

AT LEAST.

like, oh man, if i can't et you to take your pants off can i puh leeeez unhook your bra! she actually did ask if she could unhook it for me. like, helping me out style i think. but nonetheless, no. i've been unhooking my bra since i was 12. yeah. TWELVE MOTHER FUCKERS. WHAT'S IT TO YOU.


and then you know, she starts doing her job, making conversation, telling me what she is doing...and then...

"so do you prefer men or women??"

wait what? did you seriously just ask me that while rubbing your fingers in a circular motion around my nipples? wait, come again?

the question was also on the initial questionnaire i had to fill out (with a check mark right next to MEN). which i definitely found a little weird - had they not changed their question sheet since the 1980s? but anyway...

what a weird time to ask me. and before i could even answer her -

"you know, because you don't want the pap smear, is it because you think girls cant transmit disease to other girls? so you don't think you have anything to worry about?" she continued...


"i just don't want to take my pants off today..." actually, i said it more like, "i just don't want to take my pants off today??"

and that was pretty much it. she told me next time we should do the "thing i didn't want to do". i said, "oh definitely."


there really wont be a next time though. not anytime soon at least...

so yeah. worst fucking idea? new doctors. did i mention she is also my mom and dad's doctor? i dont think i can talk to her either...


BTW, she is a good doctor, i just make every situation more and more awkward with my horrible interpretations of the world around me. please don't sue me doc!

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Miss Vietnahm*

whiitethrash: are you really doing miss vietnam?
vietnamese friend: i dont know
vietnamese friend: haha
vietnamese friend: did you find the website
whiitethrash: no
whiitethrash: but i am about to
whiitethrash: and i want you to
whiitethrash: so i can cheer you on
whiitethrash: youd have to make me signs
whiitethrash: in vietnamese
whiitethrash: okay, here it is
whiitethrash: and first of all
whiitethrash: the girl on the left
whiitethrash: is not vietnamese
whiitethrash: she is indian.
vietnamese friend: lol
whiitethrash: 2ndly
vietnamese friend: shes probably part
whiitethrash: the girl 2nd from the right
whiitethrash: is hispanic
whiitethrash: and miss congeniality is obviously chinese
whiitethrash: this is all wrong.
whiitethrash: rebecca jasmine??
vietnamese friend: haha
whiitethrash: theres a slight possibility
whiitethrash: she's jewish.


question: is being in the miss vietnam pageant the worst fucking idea? or is me going and cheering her on from the audience while holding a sign that says something in vietnamese the worst fucking idea? or are they both super awesome ideas? well i'll tell you what the best fucking idea was, and that was having girls who are blatantly not vietnamese (or asian!) winning! viva rigged competitions/bribery/liars!!!



*NAHM. i did it on purpose.

Monday, September 3, 2007

"what the bloody hell is this!"

roommate kirsten's dad is a cockneyed british man who enjoys reeboks, tank tops, and his bulldog tattoo. his name is john, but everyone calls him nigel because that's what roommate kirsten calls him. he is also the landlord of this here house, so when all the showers and toilets backed up today, he was the one to come fix them.

todays task involed a 100 foot rooter and about five hours. eventually the culprit was found. and i hate to do this to you, especially after berating Gem for the pad picture...

but it was a clump of tampons.

and the man pulled them out with his bare hands and uttered the title phrase.

(right when the initial backup occurred earlier in the day, i looked at kirsten and i said, "i bet it's tampons. i bet you anything. and it will be horribly embarrassing and i will be speechless. this will be so awkward.")

i mean they weren't like, red or anything (i know i'm sorry!!! but i have to tell you what happened!), but he held them in his hand and tugged on them and tried to pull them apart. and since roommate kirsten has her own bathroom, which although affected by the clog was not where the clog originated, and since roommate tiffany wasn't home, she said "haha they're all sasha's!"

so there i stood, in the hallway, looking into the bathroom at the tan, sweaty, middle aged british man, holding a wet clump of used tampons in his hand, in a puddle of dirty water. on his face: a grin. on roommate kirsten's face: a huge smile. on my face: absolute mortification.

and then roommate tiffany comes home with her boyfriend, whose hands are all bandaged from a motorcycle accident, and she inquires about the situation.

and i tell her.

and she says, verbatim, no lie, 100%:

"oh my god it's all my fault! i have a heavy flow!!!"

and you know, flushing the tampons isn't the bad idea here. in fact, even though he told me not to do it anymore, i am absolutely 100% positive i will continue to do it every month. and i will encourage others to as well because the worst fucking idea would be to not do that!!! today's worst fucking idea was looking nigel in the eye, while he held a giant clump of used wet tampons and saying, "woops!".

and i wont ever do it again.