Archive | May, 2008


30 May

I love the smell of fried chicken, I really do.  I do not in any way, shape or form, however, like it when the smell of fried chicken is eminating from my own body.  Day 5 of Strep Throatathon 2008 is in full swing.  The throat is feeling better, much, much better.  Today, however, I have a different set of challenges.  The sweats and a massive headache.  I cannot stop sweating.  Please, God, just strike me down and freaking end it already.

This process has been somewhat educational.  I’ve learned that there’s a limit to how much time I can spend in my own bedroom before I want to start pulling my hair out of my head.  I’ve learned that when I watch “Love Actually” I end up crying through half of it.  I’ve learned that an all popsicle, sherbet, applesauce diet wears on you pretty quickly.  I’ve also learned that fever dreams are, in fact, real.  I know this because I had some really strange ones.

On Tuesday or Wednesday morning I woke up and flipped over towards the right side of my bed.  At some point in the night I had named that part the “orange zone”.  The left side of the bed is now known as the “star zone”.  Lord only knows what the hell I was dreaming about to split my bed into 2 separate zones, but I do know is that clearly it was some effed up stuff.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to spend some quality time sweating over in the orange zone right now.

I’m Not Dead, Yet

28 May

I just can’t catch a god damned break.  First, the stinking Strep and accompanying fever that makes me sweat like a fat man.  Then I am robbed of the Duran Duran concert.  THEN I’m robbed of my next date with 3D.  Plus there’s nothing to watch on TV.  Nothing.  Not a damned thing.  That’s right, kids.  Guess who’s still stuck at home in bed with a sore freaking throat.  It’s me!  It’s me!

Then, just like a cherry on a tragic sundae (only a different tragic sundae than One Date Wonder wrote about the other day), I get my period.  Early.

Sometimes, it’s just not worth it to crawl out of bed and attempt to make it out of bed.  Perhaps I’ll just roll over and go right back to sleep until tomorrow.

Here’s the only good thing to happen today, Foxy was kind enough to go on a mission and bring my applesauce and gossip rags.  Now I can eat without wanting to weep and I can read all about Britney Spear’s alleged baby bump.  That’s just what girl needs to get her through another craptastic day.

Ugh, I think I have a fever again…

He’s So Dreamy

27 May

Remember the time that I threatened to only provide high level info about Dreamy Dreamboat from Dreamtown?  Well, I lied.  He’s far too dreamy to keep all to myself and I feel you should all bask in the warmth of his dreaminess…He’s so dreamy.

He’s got a truck that he bought a little bit ago, it’s a beat up pick up truck with over 200,000 miles on it and he’s in love with it.  At the beginning of the date he was telling me how he couldn’t wait to get his first kiss in the truck.  Guess who gave him his first kiss in the truck???  Me!!  Me!!  We totally made out on our date the other night, and he was a perfect gentlemen and didn’t even try to cop a feel.  Though he did later try several times to lure me into his bedroom.  Instead, I just made out with him some more.

Today when he found out I was sick, the text messages began.  I’ve already shown you a few, now you get the joy and dreamy pleasure of seeing the rest.  Please to enjoy:

  • 3D: Well, let me know if I can do anything to help.  I wonder how i escaped the flu after you took me in the truck. 😉
  • Me: You’re lucky you made it away unscathed.  I’ll get you next time.
  • 3D: U better try harder next time.  Unless your flu is excuse to not see me.  In that case ill have to track down another hot senorita.
  • Me: No!  No other senoritas!  I want a ride in the truck.  I’m totally just using you for your truck.
  • 3D: Cool, my truck is a total boob truck.
  • Me: He’s the hottest truck I’ve ever seen.  I feel like I lose all control around him.
  • 3D: We’ll ride in truck as soon as u feel up to it.  Truck and I are excited.
  • Me: For some reason when I read your message I thought you wrote “we’ll ride in the truck as soon as I feel you up.”
  • 3D: That’s called mind reading.
  • Me: You and your sneaky ways.
  • 3D: Truck and I kinda like ya.

He’s cheesy and he’s dreamy…

We have plans to go out tomorrow night, though I don’t think that will happen (thanks, Strep Throat).  Now we’ll end up postponing until Saturday.  Guess that’s just as well since that’ll give us more time to spend together before I have to roll out of there and pretend to be virtuous.

No Soup For You

27 May

There’s nothing like scalding your sore throat with hot soup on a warm spring day.  Seriously, I’m surprised that my throat isn’t bleeding just about now.  It fucking hurts.  A lot.

I’m starving to death now.  I haven’t eaten anything aside from a Popsicle and some sherbert.  Everyone always says that soup is good for you and you should pretty much attack an IV of soup into your arm when you have the flu.  Why I listen to these people, I do not know.

I’m still freaking hungry and my throat is nearly so closed up that I can barely breathe.  And I’m missing a good time with Muffy and Lola at the Duran Duran concert.  Boo!

Oh how I love being ill!

Just the Tip Tuesday (05/27/08)

27 May

I have Strep Throat.  I hope you’re all happy with yourselves.  I blame this on all of you.  Each and everyone of you.  So, while you guys stare at the hotness that is Jude Law, remember that I’m suffering with the most painful sore throat ever described in the history of the world.

I guarantee that if I showed him what my throat looked like, that he’d be more than willing to offer me some vitamin bj.

I’m not gonna lie to you, it’s just as pretty as it is sore.  Thankfully, I had my mom call in the prescription for the antibiotics.  Gotta love having a parent that can do that.

Goodbye Forever

27 May

My throat hurts.  My body aches.  I’m sweating.  I’m dizzy.  I’m not going to make it.  I’m on my deathbed, I can just feel it.

Lord only knows how it happened, but I managed to contract the world’s deadliest and most painful version of the flu.  I’ve never had a sore throat as painful as this one.  Every time I have to swallow I break out into a sweat and my eyes start to tear up.  I can’t eat anything.  I can’t drink anything.  So far the only thing I’ve managed to do for the last two days is wonder how on earth I could possibly survive much longer.  Oh, and I did also do some sweating.

I can’t talk because it hurts my throat.  I can barely open my freaking mouth at all!

UHG!  Kill me now!!  I’m sweating again because I have to swallow.  CHRIST THAT FREAKING HURTS!!

Meanwhile, this flu is robbing me of the Duran Duran concert tonight and potentially of my date with 3D tomorrow night.  We’ve been text messaging for the last few minutes and he’s been so sweet:

  • Me: Guess how I spent the day? In bed with the flu.  Hope your day was better than mine.
  • 3D: Oh no! What can I do to help?
  • Me: I’m still alive but just barely.  If I don’t make it you’ll have to tell my mom that your tacos are better than hers.  I don’t think Duran Duran is in my future.
  • 3D: U poor thing!  When did u get sick? Want me to bring u gatorade, crackers, ginger ale?
  • Me:  I woke up with a fever yesterday and have been dying ever since.  Thanks for offering but the thought of swallowing anything makes me want to cry.
  • 3D: That’s what she said

I do believe I’ve found my match.

Sunday Musings

25 May

Ah, there’s nothing like a Sunday Pajama Jammy Jam (wow, I can’t believe I freaking just wrote that-I’m so lame) on a holiday weekend.  It’s almost 2:00 on a Sunday afternoon and I’m still in bed.  Technically I haven’t been in bed the whole time since I didn’t get home until 9:00 this morning.  [Notice how I complete leave out the details of why I happened to be out so late.]

There are things to be done!  Shower to be had.  Lawn to be mowed.  Toenails to be painted.  Laundry to be started.  Bed to be made.  Dog to be brought in.  Bag to be packed (long story).  Yet I’m having an awfully hard time dragging myself out of this bed.  My neck is stiff.  I’m tired as sin.  I just want to lay here, rollover and go right back to sleep.

But that’s just not going to happen.  I’m too busy thinking about some exciting stuff.  First, there’s the good part, I only have 2 hours before I put the dog in the car and race off for date number 2 with 3D (Dreamy Dreamboat from Dreamtown).  I have a feeling that I’m not going to be great company because I’m dead tired.  Plus he will get nothing from me.  Not one thing.  Except for maybe a kiss.  Maybe. 

PLUS, my mind is racing with the age old question of, “Should I stay or should I go?” 

Here’s the deal, maybe I’ll go back, just maybe.  But not anytime soon because the whole thing is way too embarrassing and still makes me want to crawl under a rock and die a slow, slow death.  Even though it would be an excellent opportunity to bask in the warmth of severe embarrassment.  But you all know I’m a sucker for these things…and for some reason it all seems like a good idea (perhaps I’ll blame that on the lack of sleep). 

Come on guys, you can totally understand my hesitation for wanting to go back.  I’d probably be way too freaking embarrassed to hold much of a conversation.  My guess is I’d just sit at the bar, stare into my delicious drink that I miss so much and dream about at night and blush the whole entire time.  I’m blushing just thinking about the awkwardness. 

Here’s something that I will say: I did learn a very valuable lesson from all of this.  Don’t write it down if you think it’ll ever get back to you and you don’t want the free world to know about it.  Free world, you’re on notice that you shall now only get high level details on 3D…unless I decide to just freaking tell him about this whole thing.  Don’t see what the advantage of that is, except for my wanting to speed up the whole process of dying under the rock.

Comments are off.  I don’t want to hear it.

Appropriate Workplace Humor

23 May

There’s nothing like calling your work friends “hookers” and catching a quick feel in the hallway when no one’s looking.  We all know that Foxy is funny and that from time to time we have work conversations that are less than professional.  As a matter of fact, I’m surprised that we haven’t been sent to HR and been promptly fired. 

Today, Foxy took a different approach.  She went into our mail room to pick up her mail and was kind enough to check my box too.  [Ha ha!  I said “box”.]  Anyway, I knew she was up to something when she flashed me her devious whore smile of hers. 

Next thing I know she says to me, “Hey, I picked up your mail again.”  Then she handed me this…

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