The Mother of All Catch Ups

I just went a week and a half without posting...the longest it's ever been for me.

So I'll try to catch you up...just bear with me.

1. The "Perilous Puddin' Pig Out"
In case you didn't read the updates via Twitter on my sidebar, the puddin' challenge went without a hiccup...but not without bodily injury. Both contestants finished in under 17 minutes...but one had an adverse reaction where it made him poop out 5 pounds of waste within 45 minutes of eating said pudding. I was off work last week on vacation and neither contestant is here today so I can't exactly tell you with certainty that both are fine.

There were barf buckets, eating utensil options, a weigh in before and after the contest (both gained 5 pounds each), trophies, and even a crown.

It was completely hysterical and unbelievably gross.

2. My younger sister came into town two weekends ago and we had a fantastic time. We actually went to a restaurant that we used to love when we were kids. While you're eating Mexican "food" they have plays and people who climb and dive off cliffs. As a kid, I remember it being so very awesome - magical event!

As an adult, I had a good time -- that is until I had to run to the bathroom. The "food" did not agree with me as much as anyone would've liked, including myself.

3. I spent last week in El Paso and had a fantastic time while eating my weight in my mom's fantastic chile con queso. To say that this dish was divine would be like saying that Paris Hilton is slightly nasty. In other words, it's a huge understatement.

My boyfriend, Joe, came down to spend most of the week with me and I am absolutely surprised that after spending 5 days with each other, we didn't want to club each other over the head or light each other on fire. In fact, even after a 10 hour car ride back to Denver, we opted to spend that night and next morning together rather than taking a break from each other.

Here's where I'm hoping that if you've read this far, you might have a stomach of steel. I mean, you just read about poop in the first two bullet points and are still reading...so you'll probably be okay with me sharing this:

I love my boyfriend. I really do.

Spending that amount of time with him was really great, drama free, and felt SO good. On Thanksgiving, we passed the five month mark of dating and I found myself thinking about how thankful that I have someone who is so wonderful and fantastic to date. I love spending time with him and I'm excited to just enjoy this part of the relationship. I am so thankful that I figured out my horrible reaction to Nuvaring in time to salvage the wonderful things about our relationship.

4. I got to spend time with two high school friends of mine...and it was so great to see them both. One has two beautiful little girls and while we were at lunch, I found myself being very aware of how badly I hope to be a mom someday. It's a somewhat new revelation for me to have and one that I hope comes to fruition.

So there you have it - the mother of all catch ups.

And I'll leave you with a promise. I'll never go that long without updating again. :)

Overheard at work this morning...

Person A: Ha ha ha...I figured it out! This should just show you that you need to shut up FOREVER. And you should also know that I am sosoooooo smart. I bet you thought I wasn't going to get it and that I was dumb. Well, I'm not. I'm smart. I AM SMART!

Person B: I beg to differ.

In other news, the Perlious Puddin' Pig Out is still on for tomorrow at lunch. I'm actually going to be off work next week due to a trip down to my mom's for Thanksgiving. I can't think of a better way that I'd like to start my vacation than with the viewing of two grown men make themselves sick on pudding.

It's going to be great.

Ninety eight

So, Chassis, my awesome 175 pound Great Dane is sick. Again.

She actually had a mass on her spine that the vet took a sample of. The good news? It's not cancerous. The bad news? It needed to be removed.

So today, she had the entire mass removed and she needs antibiotics to make sure that she doesn't get an infection. Compared to the month and a half of antibiotics she was on in the late summer, I'm thrilled that she only needs to be on the meds for a week.

Seems reasonable, right?

It is.

Until you realize that for a HUGE dog like mine, they need a lot of medication. In fact, the meds are usually so expensive, that I've given up getting them refilled at the vets office. Instead, I call around to my local grocery stores because they can usually fill the perscription in a generic form for about half the price. When she was on antibiotics for a month and a half a little while ago, it saved hundreds of dollars by doing it that way.

I knew I was in trouble though, when I called the local pharmacist and gave her the dosage requirements that I needed and she did a double take.

To give you some perspective, the pharmacist (who isn't shocked by people pulling up their sleeves and asking "does this look infected to you?") was shocked at the dosage.

In the end, this means that she will get 7 (SEVEN!) pills twice a day. And for all you math types out there, that means 98 pills.

98 pills of medication for ONE WEEK.

(sigh)

In other news, if you know someone who needs plasma, I'd totally be willing to sell them mine.

Like Donkey Kong...

That's right.

November 20, 2009: A day of infamy (and stupidity).

The Perilous Puddin' Pig Out is scheduled for this Friday at lunch.

And in case you need a refresher, the rules can be read here.

I'm sorry that it's come to this...

A little while ago, I read a blog where a person was complaining about spammers commenting on her blog. I remembered that I wished that I had that problem... I didn't even rank high enough to have spammers comment!

Well, the last few days, I've actually gotten what I wished for.

Several spammers are commenting about stuff that I couldn't care less about - sometimes even in a different language!

Although I don't want to put my comments on moderation and I *hate* captcha almost more than I hate olives, I'm going to have to do it. Unless one of you guys have hints on how to dissuade spammers in another way...do you?

And just in case*, I'm going to go ahead and wish for a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to me. Daisies are my preference.


*When I was in fourth grade (and had a crush on a certain someone), I was in the same class as a kid by the name of David Case. I don't remember much about him, other than he was TINY and had the curliest hair. Really it was the most beautiful hair...big blonde curls that any angel would've loved to have had. Anyway, David was good friends with a boy named Justin (whose last name I don't remember). One day, we were supposed to be doing our work and David said aloud that it was a good think that Justin wasn't born into his family or his name would've been Justin Case. And now I can't even THINK the words "Just In Case" without thinking of him.

So, to David, I say: Thanks a lot, jerkface.

To my co-workers: WTF?

Today, I couldn't help but pause in shock at what I saw what was on our lunchroom counter.

Really, co-workers...really?

You can't open the sugar canister like the one on the left?

You have to either rip off the plastic top (like the center picture) or just rip into it like a sugar monster you must be (as on the right)?

Really? You need sugar THAT BADLY that you have to pry open the BOTTOM of the friggin' sugar container? Even when one container is already open?

REALLY?

I mean, it's not like we work in an emergency room...or something else that might justify the three second savings of having a faster pour of sugar. Because unless I'm mistaken, all we do is sell VALVES. Valves that our customers are waiting over a year to get. We can afford to take our time with the sugar AND the creamer.

The pack mentality

A few months ago, I saw a catchy little commercial about a new form of birth control.

It was this nifty little ring - the NUVARING! And even though nothing was wrong with my birth control (at all!), I found myself fascinated by the commerical with the jingle that sticks in your head more firmly than the tune of "Tom's Diner."

You know the commercial...the one where all those synchronized swimmers are singing, "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, EVERY day..."

All of the sudden, I realized that my daily birth control was THE MAN. It was keeping me down. How could I ever think about having to take one tiny little pill EVERY DAY? The burden of having to remember it every night started to weigh on me. Who cares if I have to take other medication at night? Who cares that I've never missed a pill? Clearly HAVING to remember it was impacting my life and clearly, being on the pill was JUST LIKE being in prison.

My point is this: people that take boring, stupid birth control pills are boring and stupid. And they're not popular. And they don't get drinks served to them at the pool side while wearing sexy bikinis. And they wear bright red lipstick which is somehow lame.

The only solution for any sane, non-swimming cap person was to "break free from the pack" and enjoy all of the freedom that came with Nuvaring!

Nuvaring!

I could see myself living my life as a free person. Why, with the Nuvaring inside me, anything was possible! I'd probably win the lottery. I'm sure I'd have more green lights on the way to work, where I'd undoubtedly get a raise. I'd never burn another dinner and I'd always remember my grandma's birthday. In fact, I'd probably have less dropped calls on my cellular phone...all thanks to Nuvaring.

Three cheers for Nuvaring!

The first month it was awesome...unless you count the times that I was consumed with worry that it would fall out at any moment, that I hadn't placed it in just right, or that it would be stuck in there FOREVER.

The second month is when I started having problems. One day I felt down. As a normally "up" person, it was a little odd, but I figured I'd bounce back in no time. Only I didn't.

And then? I went a little a whole lotta crazy. I wanted my space and then quite quickly I wanted nothing of the sort. I wanted to talk stuff out with friends until I started to panic and then I would've set myself on fire if it meant getting away from them.

I was angry - like really angry and cranky. The only thing that would stop the cranky and anger would be the unexplained tears. I complained at work more than I normally did and snapped at people when I normally would've laughed off their jokes.

Clearly, I had turned into a teenager.

The entire time, I kept thinking that this wasn't like me. Where was my zen desire to be healthier in mind, body, and spirit? What was wrong with me?

So, like any crazy person, I decided to not call anyone and not do anything with anyone. Because when you're crazy, you think you're doing a good job of hiding the crazy... especially if you stop all communication with everyone else.

The only person that I couldn't quite dodge successfully was the boyfriend.

I'm sure that I drove my boyfriend bonkers because I was one of the neediest, bitchiest, and most confusing person in the world. And just so you know, I've worked hard to try to eliminate the drama in my life - and during the last week on Nuvaring(!), it was like I was putting on my own one-person play. In fact, the word "drama" doesn't even cover it. Now, it's true, sometimes he was being a bit of a turd and probably deserved some amount of communication about it, but he definitely didn't deserve the crap I was shoveling out.

And hoo boy, was I shoveling out some crazy shit.

The misery of the situation is that I didn't put two and two together until the end of month two... and I only put it together because I had had a similar (albeit much more minor) reaction several years ago when I was on a generic birth control. So if you're interested in specifics, you should know that I lived in Crazy Town (the medical term is "emotional lability") for two to three weeks.

And here I am, after 6 days off of the ring (and on my good ol' LoEstrin), feeling significantly saner. Without going into gory detail, I'll just say that my body is oh-so happy to have that particular type of hormone out of me.

Oh, and you know what was the biggest bummer of all? EACH AND EVERY NIGHT I still had to remind myself that I didn't need to take my birth control pill any more. Like I would be falling asleep and I would wake up nervous that I had forgotten it. GAH!

(sigh)

I am writing this post for two reasons:

1) To publicly thank my boyfriend (who will quite possibly never read this) for believing me (or at least pretending to) when I said that the crazy behavior WAS NOT ME. I'm not sure if the craziness damaged our relationship permanently...but I'm okay with whatever outcome happens, mostly because I feel more like me. And the me that I am can handle anything that will come, even the demise of something that could've been great.

b) To let the women out there know that hormones can be dangerous things to mess with. While it's true that some women may never experience the same symptoms, it's good to know that it CAN happen. I just feel horrible thinking that there could be a woman out there experiencing the same hell that I went through and not even knowing that her birth control (Nuvaring or any other one) could be to blame. Although to be fair to Nuvaring(!), I know of two people personally who loved it and never had any of the same issues I did. The same hormone can affect women differently (obviously).

In a society where everyone wants the next coolest thing, it's easy to want to be on different medication that seems cooler...but like that saying goes, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

So if you need me, I'll be in the pool practicing my boring and stupid synchronized swimming - cap and all.

Are all leaky, lonely, and driftin', just like me...

Way back when (which, as I understand it, is just a weird way of saying a while ago), I used to showcase music I love on Fridays.

So today, I decided to continue that theme...from months ago. Because you know, I love a good trend.

Anyway, today's song is "Leaky Little Boat" by Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers.

I was introduced to this band by my older sister, Rachel and this was the first song she played for me. While I'm not the biggest fan of the band (because my sister would probably take that title) I really do like them. AND I'm seeing them tonight when they're in Denver.

And OH MY GOSH. The drummer for the opening act? He's the one that I went on a date back in January and wrote about HERE. So yeah. I don't think that there's much risk that that guy will see me, but eesh.

Anyway, without further ado, here is "Leaky Little Boat."

Leaky Little Boat - Roger Clyn...

I awake from a long, deep sleep
In a leaky little boat on a wide blue sea
I spy no island, rock or shore
And the sea, she's a-comin' to me through a hole in the floor

And the tide come in and the tide go out
And the waves they come an' knock my little boat about
And the sky turn black and the sky turn blue
I got no pail, no sail, no anchor, too
Just a leaky little boat

And as I wake I look around
I have no notion where I'm bound
So many different colored boats I see
Are all leaky, lonely, and driftin'
Just like me

And the tide come in and the tide go out
And the waves they come an' knock my little boat about
And the sky turn black and the sky turn blue
I got no pail, no sail, no anchor, too
Just a leaky little boat

I spy no island, rock, or shore
I spy no island, rock, or shore
I spy no island, rock, or shore
And the sea keeps a-comin' to me through a hole in the floor
In my leaky little boat

In my leaky little boat

Alone, adrift together are we
Slowly sinkin' in a deep blue sea
But we smile and we wave
And we say, "I'm afraid...and I love you...and here we go..."

And the tide come in and the tide go out
And the waves they come an' toss my little boat about
And the sky turn black and the sky turn blue
I got no pail, no sail, no anchor, too
Just a leaky little boat

Just a leaky little boat

Spreading the luck

Alright, it wasn't easy to choose two random numbers out of the comments below, but I managed to do it!

Numbers 5 and 7 are the winning numbers, but since my favorite number is 3, I have to pick that one too.

SO, if you are Kristi, Lisa R, and Rebecca Jo, email me your address to happyfunpants [at] gmail [dot] com and I will get your nifty, extra super, nothing could be sexier or luckier prize.

The end. :)

Gettin' lucky...

In general, I am unlucky.

Like, you know those silly church raffles where you pay $1 and hope to win a basketful of Michael Bolton cassette tapes or a maybe even a monogrammed Bible cover? Well, despite entering about eleventy hundred church raffles, I never won...no matter how times (or how genuinely) I sang "He's Got The Whole World (In His Hands)." For those that know the song I'm talking about, you should take note that I EVEN DID THE HAND MOTIONS TO THAT SONG. And what did I get for my troubles? NADA. You'd think that I would've at least won a pencil with "Jesus Loves You" on it. But NO!

Or how about when the emcee of a conference encourages you to look under your chair for a colored piece of paper taped to the bottom... clearly indicating that you've won something cool like the "Back to The Future" Trilogy? Yeah. Despite my best attempts, I've never sat in that chair.

I've never won anything on a lottery ticket and I never get a parking space close to the front of the store. I always pick the security line at the airport with the most anal retentive TSA agent. I've never gotten two of anything at a vending machine due to malfunction of the coil.

What I'm trying to say is that, in general, I'm unlucky.

But I have been given a fantastic opportunity - one that I'm so excited to tell you about.

I was selected to be the first blogger featured at Tales from the Blog. Tales from the Blog is a site that has a lot of useful information (so you may want to sign up for the RSS feed).

A super cool thing about that site is that they have decided to feature a blogger a week...and it's not even one of the big named bloggers. In fact, this week it is me! :)

Not only that, but I was made into a HOT 3D animated character!

See?

In fact, it's probably best that you go there RIGHT NOW to listen to the interview. It's only 8 minutes long and besides, if you watch it, you will be entered into a random raffle where you could win...um...a prize. Yes. A prize.

What's the prize that you might win?

Um...well, I can't tell you (because then it wouldn't be so cool), but um...it's good. Really, really good. And all of your friends will want one. Also, if you get it, your hair will grow longer and stronger. And you'll have more money. And a bigger penis and/or boobs. Maybe both.

And I'm not kidding about the prize. Leave a comment that you visited the site and I'll pick a random winner and totally send a prize to you.

So, um...you should totally check it out.

And since I know you all so well, I'll just answer the questions that you're bound to have:

1) Yes, I really do look like that in real life. I sent pictures of myself to the producer/host and the measurements of my body that she came up with are EXACTLY CORRECT. No need to go back and view past pictures that I put on this blog because that is exactly what my body looks like. Exactly.
2) I had a cold when the interview was recorded. I do not sound like a man...typically. And the cold medicine helped me ramble more than I do...typically.
3) Yes. Apparently, I did get lei'd before the interview. Woo hoo! And that may or may not have been how I scored said interview. A good magician artist never gives away her secrets!
4) That *is* exactly what my living room looks like. The fresh cut fruit is a b!tch to keep up with, but it's a pretty table decoration and besides, my smokin' hot guests like it.
5) Yes. You heard me correctly. "I can't be a part of peaches." A dorkier answer during an interview may never have been given before. That is exactly the kind of quality statement that I bring to interviews. It's a wonder I haven't done more of these.
6) I am eating a grilled cheese sandwich right now.
7) All of the above statements are true, as far as you know.

So basically, I'm thrilled that I was selected to be a part of this project. They're going to feature other bloggers weekly and I can't wait to see/hear who the other bloggers are.

Being a featured blogger on an uber cool web site? It's yet another thing to scratch off my "Bucket List."

It's the most wonderful time of the year....

If you could see me now, you'd know exactly how rested I look. Actually, if you could see me now, you'd probably encourage me to get new pajamas, but that's beside the point.

Because today is the first day I've taken advantage of Daylight Savings Time.

I wish that there were more words in the English language that described how fantastic I feel in these first few days after the turn of the clock. Today I got up ON TIME (versus hitting my snooze button for way too long). Today I jumped out of bed and felt awesome.

And for me, it's always like this.

From now until spring, I am in my zone. I'm habitually on time (or EARLY!) to work during this segment of the year. I feel better and I feel more energized.

I was meant to live in this time zone. I was meant to wake up for work when it's light out.

And for the record, I feel that it's unfair of the residents of Arizona to be able to live with this luxury all year long without sharing. I mean, what is Arizona's time zone called? AST? Well, it can also be Anne Standard Time, thankyouverymuch.

That's why I'm refusing to change my clocks in the spring.

You've been warned.

Want to lose your appetite? Read this post.

First of all, consider this line as a warning: you will be grossed out in reading this post. So if you're eating, do yourself a favor and just stop. Stop reading or stop eating. Although I know I'm not a doctor, but pretty sure that you probably shouldn't be doing both.

Okay, then.

To lay the groundwork, you should probably know that my work place is full of complete idiots. It's full of people that ACT like idiots, but I also believe that if you tested our IQ, we wouldn't exactly score highly.

So one of the guys from "The Perilous Puddin' Pig Out" (that has yet to occur) accepted a dare today.

The dare? Eat two fully loaded Qdoba burritos. Fully loaded meant that the burrito had to contain beans, rice, a protein, a salsa, cheese, lettuce, and some sort of liquid-ish topping (queso, sour cream, or guacamole).

One burrito was 1.48 pounds and the other was 1.5 pounds. And he finished both in 28 minutes.

So, I encourage you to think about that. Just think about all of that food filling up your stomach. And think about that the food was THREE POUNDS AND that the sheer volume of the food is pretty substantial.

Just the thought of that has me nauseous.

So the rest of us (the spectators, if you will) started questioning which would be harder to do - eat three pounds of food or drink three pounds of liquid.

So, because we were all having a SCIENCE based discussion, he opted to drink 30 ounces of water too.

The result? He gained 5 AND A HALF POUNDS in 32 minutes.

So think about that. Can you imagine how full he is right about now? Like, if he leaned down to tie his shoes, you KNOW he'd be urping up something.

The worst part is that halfway through his second burrito, he paused, and spit something out into a napkin. Then he calmly walked over to the trash can and threw the napkin away.

When questioned what he did, he said, "Um, I'm pretty sure that was a fingernail."

But remember, I said that he ate two whole burritos. So this means that he found a human fingernail in the burrito AND THEN HE FINISHED IT ANYWAY.

I'll be having nightmares tonight, I'm sure.

And lemme' guess...you've lost your appetite, no?

Technology free weekend

First of all, I want to say how much I appreciate your response to my last post. To be honest, I didn't know so many of you read it on a consistent basis. Somehow it helps knowing that I am being read. So thank you for indulging me.

I'm not sure how I'm going to change things, but there will be changes for sure.

In fact, I was so burnt out about thinking of everything that I didn't look at a computer from Friday when I left work until last night around midnight. I have many emails to respond to, but it felt SO good just being away from it all.

To take it a step further, my iPhone died on Saturday and I didn't get it back up and charged until LATE last night.

It was lovely.

And now, after this weekend, I have more perspective. I gained some great insight from people that I admire and respect and feel like I am re-energized...ready to make the blog happier, funnier, and pantsier.

In other blogging news, I'm debating doing the whole NaBloPoMo thing again - mostly because I apparently like punishing myself. In case you didn't know, NaBloPoMo is "National Blog Posting Month" and the whole idea is to make blogging as painful as possible challenge bloggers to write one post a day.

I did it last year...and while I won't say that it was the most exciting series of posts, it was fun.

I know for sure that I'm going to vow to post at least 5 comments a day on the blogs that I read. I figure everyone can use a little comment love...and I'm vowing to be better about spreading it.

The love, that is. :)

Free to be... you and me

"Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken"
--Oscar Wilde

Last night, I found myself on the phone with a fantastic person. She's actually a friend of my boyfriend's. She is working on a fantastic project - one that I am so lucky to be a part of. And through us talking about the project, we've actually gotten to know each other better. And guess what? She's kind of my friend too now. I am SO lucky. :)

Anyway, during the phone conversation, we talked quite a bit about blogs.

I told her that I'm struggling. I'm struggling with blogging. I'm struggling with having two blogs. This one and Smaller Fun Pants.

There. I said it.

She asked why I started blogging and I told her it was mainly to keep in touch with people. I started by writing about my day to day life. And I get a kick out of making people laugh. Wait...I really get a kick out of making people laugh.

I love blogging. I love sharing my thoughts and I love being able to comment on other people's blogs. It's like a mini-community where you can bounce thoughts and ideas off of people. It's fun!

But I think that the people that used to read my blog, don't anymore. And that makes me sad. I wonder if I've offended people. I wonder if I've turned off people with my language or with my content. I wonder if everyone's comments are down or if it's just mine.

At the same time, I realize that I have a responsibility - one that I've been slacking in. I think I'm not as good about commenting as I once was - especially on the people's blogs that got me interested in blogging iin the first place. And I hate that...because I know that it is HARD to blog when you feel like next to no one out there is reading and/or liking what you post.

Believe me, I know. So I'm vowing to do something about it. I'm vowing to comment more - on the blogs where I know the bloggers personally and on the blogs where I lurk.

I was asked by this new friend what my favorite blog was... and I thought about all of my favorite bloggers out there. My favorites are the ones that seem authentic. They're the ones that seem like they blog about their lives - they pull me in, they make me laugh or they make me think about things in a different way. They write what they want to write and let the chips fall where they may.

THAT is the blogger I want to be. And THAT is the blog I want to have.

So there may be some changes around here. Because I want to continue to make you laugh and make your day a tad more fun. But I also want to be able to blog about other stuff that may not be so funny. I want to be my own authentic self. Because, as the quote says, everyone else is already taken.

But I'm hoping that through these changes, you'll love me anyway.

You will love me anyway, right?

Right?

10 things you probably didn't know about me...

A few weeks ago, my blogging friend, POD, made a list of 10 things that we probably didn't know about her. I commented it on the list and what did I get for that? Tagged to do the same list.

The "award" is actually called the "Honest Scrap" award and, as legend has it, was intended to have the person receiving the award to write 10 honest scraps of information about them. Also anyone reading it must immediately send $5 to the blogger that they're reading. Don't go back and look at POD's blog. Trust me on this one.

Anyway, to me, if you rush your words together (as I am wont to do), it sounds like the award is "Honest Crap." And really? It basically has the same outcome.

So, without further ado, 10 honest things that you didn't know about me:

1) I like lists. Like a lot. It may be because I feel more sane when they're around. It may be because I love scratching off things that I have completed - because sometimes in my life I feel that I haven't completed much. I'm not sure why, but proclaiming my love for lists seemed to be a good way to ease both you and me into this award.

2) I loved math workbooks as a kid. As in, my mom would take us to the store and they used to have math workbooks with a picture of a kid on it and I would get excited because IT MEANT I GOT TO PRACTICE MATH.

The kid on the workbook had his hand raised. The name of the workbook was something like "Who wants to get beaten up after school?" ANYWAY, inside the workbook was a bunch of math problems that were age appropriate. I loved these and begged for them when we went to the store because I loved to do math problems as a kid.

I think that's when my parents still thought that I might actually turn out to BE somebody someday.

3) Several years ago I went to go see a psychic in El Paso. She told me that I would meet the love of my life within the next few years. According to her, he would be older than me and his name would begin with a 'J.'

I'M NOT KIDDING.

Unfortunately, for all involved, right after the trip, I met a guy named Jon, who was older than me and who turned out to NOT be the love of my life.

I may burn down that place when I visit there again.

Then again, I think Josh Schmernsberger is a few months older than me...

4) I may or may not be allergic to radishes. I always remember being allergic to them, but when I mentioned it to my mom recently, she was all, "Uh...not so much." So it may be something that I think is true because I told myself that it was true a ton of times. I can see myself not liking the taste when I was little and then becoming convinced that I'm allergic to them. Tell that story a billion times and guess what? I became allergic to radishes. Maybe.

The thing is, since I'm not sure, I definitely don't want to try one. So as far as you're concerned, I'm allergic to radishes. Probably. Or not.

5) Have you ever heard someone say that they worked in a fast food place so much when they were younger that they can't even LOOK at (insert name of restaurant's food here) without getting sick?

How about the people that say that they ate so much of one type of food, got sick, and now they can't have it any more because it makes them nauseous?

Yeah. I'm not that person.

6) I just googled something that my mom actually DID say that I was allergic to when I was a kid. She used to tell teachers and friends that I couldn't have any of it. Only when I just read what the symptoms are for being allergic to it, I found out that they're bad symptoms.

Like it's all "Oh, is your kid setting fire to your dog? They might have a sensitivity to..." and then they listed the food.

I thought all I got was headaches and stomachaches but according to the interwebs, I also stayed in bed and sprayed what looked like split pea soup everywhere out of my mouth as my head was spinning.

Wow. I don't know how to deal with that so instead I'll say that apparently I had "behavioral problems" as a kid that may or may not be related to food sensitivities.

7) On a lighter note, the scene from "Shrek" where Prince Farquad is torturing the Gingerbread Man about where the Muffin Man lives makes me giggle every time. And when the Gingerbread Man screams "Not the buttons! Not my gumdrop buttons!" I laugh. Sometimes I laugh so hard, I cry.

Wow. Having that follow #6, doesn't exactly make me sound more sane. To clarify, I laugh because it's a rhyme that someone is being silly about NOT because something is getting tortured.

8) I like mittens. I like mittens a lot. And I wish that more people saw them as an appropriate item of clothing for people over 30. Sometimes I feel silly when I wear them around other people because I recognize that it's not grown up.

But then I turn them to the side, realize all over again that they sort of look like whales (when I'm wearing them and moving my thumb), giggle, and go on with my life. Because apparently, I'll act grown up about a lot of things - as long as I don't have to give up my mittens while doing so.

9) I have a daisy tattoo on my body. I thought that it would be so beautiful and awesome. I mean, I LOVE daisies!

In reality, the guy that did it, didn't do a good job. I went to have someone else "fix" it and although she clearly made it better, it doesn't look like something I'd ever look at and then be all "THAT! I want THAT on my body for the rest of my life."

I'd like to say that I turned it into something all powerful. Like I could say "That tattoo now stands for how I will stand up for myself and tell someone that I don't want what they think I want." But I still can't say that. Instead, I'm a little sad when I see it.

The thing is, it's on a part of my body that I only see occasionally. So sometimes it still takes me by surprise when I see it. I forget that it's there, realize it's there, get a little sad that it's not what I envisioned, and then remember that I had better get in the shower before I am late for work again. And so I hop in the shower and forget that I have it - at least for another day.

10) I absolutely positively don't like all-encompassing definitive statements.

And in case you're wondering, that's 100% true.

Oh, and also? I'm not tagging you if you leave a comment. Unless you want to be tagged. In which case, I'm TOTALLY picking you and I want to know about your 10 things too.

In a word? Twitterpated

So, I've been trying to come up with a few typical Fun Pants style posts all day. But no matter how much I tried to write a snarky, silly, or even goofy post, I can't.

Instead, my head is filled with gushing, sugary sweet, romanticized, and overly optimistic thoughts about my boyfriend and our relationship.

In fact, I completely unloaded my gushings via email on an unsuspecting person (that I barely KNOW!) in response to a casual and innocent question. She has no idea what she's about to read and I almost feel bad. Because when she opens that email, what's going to leap out are prancing unicorns, gum drop sunsets, and the smells of Strawberry Shortcake dolls.

I would feel bad or guilty if I wasn't too busy feeling so good. I didn't know that it could feel like this much fun AND be emotionally healthy.

It's wonderful.

It's bliss.

So, in short, I'll try to be my normal non-twitterpated self tomorrow.

But until then, I'll be over here - sighing dreamily.

Admit it, you have "Dream Weaver" playing in your head too

About 1 minute before I left work on Wednesday afternoon, I checked my email.

And that's when I found that JOSH HERNSBERGER (aka my 4th grade crush) left a comment on the last post that I talked about him.

If you're new here, I'm begging you to click here to read the back story...because is important.

It's okay, you can go. I'll wait.

SO, did you notice the comments at the bottom of it?

Josh Hernsebrger wrote (and I quote):

Sue you? Are you kidding? I was giving the link to everyone I know so that
they would know how awesome I was back in the 4th grade.

And I laughed so hard that I think I peed a little.

So I called my friend turleybenson up to tell her that her ex-boyfriend (look, apparently they dated for a whole 3 weeks in the 6th grade) commented on my blog. And then we laughed so hard on the phone that I think I heard her pee a little. What? She may or may not be a loud urinator.

Basically, I think it's frickin' AWESOME that he commented back.

So I got the idea to write him a quick message on Facebook to basically say "thanks for not being a douche canoe" or something sweet like that. Also, I don't know if he knows who I am. I mean, we had several classes together and all, but I don't ever say what my last name is on this blog and also? I look a little different than I did in 4th grade. Because in 4th grade I sort of looked like a mongoloid. NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT.

ANYWAY, I couldn't find him on Facebook. And he was no longer a friend suggestion. So I remembered a friend of mine (on FB) that *is* a friend of his so I clicked through to send him a message:

===========start of message===============

Hi there,

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I am the person who has written about you and the innocent crush from 25 years ago.

I actually signed onto Facebook because I wanted to send you a quick message to say thanks for being very cool and understanding about the whole blog thing. I would've written that you were being a "good sport" but I think that phrase is still reserved for use by people that are old - and I'm not ready to be old yet.

When I got onto Facebook, I couldn't find you at first - I mean, you weren't searchable and you were no longer in my friend suggestions. Around then is when I felt like a stalker for the first time in my life.* But like any GOOD stalker, I went ahead and continued to push through adversity. :) And then, it occurred to me that my writing about you may have made you want to
hide your identity somehow. And if that's the case, I want to tell you how sorry I am.

So basically, I wanted to say hi, to thank you for having a sense of humor about everything, to assure you that I'm very happy with my boyfriend, and to ask if you want me to take down the posts - or perhaps change your name to Josh Schmernsberger or maybe just "Josh H." I mean, the last thing that I wanted to do was to make your life more difficult in any way.

So if you feel comfortable, let me know if I've offended you in any way and how I can best rectify that... and I will go about doing so.

Oh, and this might be a bit overdue, but I'm hoping the last 14 years have treated you well.

:),
Anne

*Because that's pretty much the first time I've stalked someone on the internet...not because I've done it but never FELT like a stalker before.

And also? Come on...is "Dream Weaver" even playing a LITTLE bit in your head?

===============and scene!=============================

It's two days later and still no response.

I can only assume that the lack of response is because he is selling all his earthly possessions and trying to move to Denver - with the song "Dream Weaver" playing in his head every time he thinks about me.

And if that's true, I get to say to him that I'm very flattered, but that I feel like there just isn't that spark that was there in the 4th grade. Sure, he'll probably cry, plead, and maybe grab onto my pantlegs as I walk away. But I'll be firm with him. I'll tell him that he simply must try to forget my magnificence. Will it be tough? Undoubtedly. But he'll find a way to survive. And then dramatically, I'll walk away. And I won't look back...even though I can hear him sobbing.

Cue "Dream Weaver" one last time...

UPDATED: Okay, maybe "Dream Weaver" won't be playing in the background at the end. Maybe it'll be Hall and Oates "She's Gone" instead. Yes. That would be more perfecter.

UPDATED #2: I feel like I should still repay Josh for the blog fodder that he's given me. But since he clearly doesn't want to communicate with me about this, I can repay him the only way I know how:

Josh Schmernsberger is a fantastic and satisfying lover. He has a big penis. He is also very handy and knows how to fix everything. It's like he's McGuyver, Chuck Norris, The Dog Whisperer, and Dirk Diggler all rolled up into one. Anyone he's with is SOOO lucky to have him. Also he's really kind to his mom.

See Josh? YOU'RE WELCOME.

UPDATED #3: Everyone can breathe a sigh of relief. I do believe I'm done with the whole Josh Schmernsberger thing. YOU'RE WELCOME.

UPDATED #4: Alright, so seriously? The formatting on this post is horrible. I don't know what happened and I apologize to you if it's all wonky. I tried to fix it, but I can't. If only Josh Schmernsberger were here...

UPDATED #5: Just so we're clear, I totally Google myself. In fact, I totally do this more often than my own breast exams. Which reminds me, October is "Feel Your Boobies" month. So feel 'em.

Steadfast, revisited

I never do this.

I never go back to posts from one year ago to try to see what was going on in my life.

But today I decided to search through my archives to find three good posts for a project that I'm nominating myself for.

One of my favorite posts of all time WAS posted a year ago. The title of the post and the picture in question is "Steadfast."

I went back and read it and am amazed at how I still feel the same way. I'm also relieved to realize that it's not as much of a struggle to just BE as it was at this time last year.

I'm so blessed. I'm blessed to have a group of friends (both via the interwebs and in "real" life) that love me for who I am. I'm so lucky to have a family that is constantly trying to heal itself and are supportive of my efforts to make myself a better version of me. And I'm happy that in this time of my life that I'm dating someone who seems to genuinely like me for me.

All of that support makes it easier to be the rock that I am. I know now I that I could do it by myself...but I also know that having their support and encouragement makes my goals seem more attainable and any static in the line less noisy.

This year, I'm realizing that the rush of the water isn't as fierce as it could've been...especially since I have the support and foundation of those around me.

So in case I don't say it enough, thank you.

Her cackles raise my hackles

We've basically got two receptionists where I work - although both of them would rather light you on fire than admit that that's their job. One has the title of "Inside Sales Support" where she does nothing to actually help us. Unless checking her Facebook status and talking on the phone to her boyfriend is helping someone that I may not be aware of.

The lady that answers the phones all day has decided that her title should be "Office Purchasing." I don't really get that because we don't need to purchase another office. If she's referring to the fact that she does the purchasing for the office supplies, then I don't really get that either...seeing as how it took me 6 months to get a ruler. But that's another story.

So the "Inside Sales Support" lady has this laugh that grates on my nerves. It's like a cross between an evil laugh (think "Buh-wah-ha-ha-ha") and a giggle (where it's fast). She laughs a lot. And loudly.

I also laugh loudly and a lot...so most days I *try* to be understanding.

But some days, like today, I just want to hit her in the head with the lid to a toilet tank.*


*That was from a scene from "Zombieland." I'm not usually that violent. :)

Reason #253 why I like my boyfriend

Today, I got an email from him that said that I would like this site:

http://isnickelbacktheworstbandever.com/

See? How could I *not* like him?

Also, I heart that site. :) Because in case you're new here, I do *not* heart that band.