Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Oiled and Naked

So. I'm currently sitting here half-naked and all oiled up. Unfortunately, this is not as indicative of sexy-time as it sounds. I'm just really pregnant, and I JUST got enough money in the bank to buy some anti-itch/stretch mark stuff. This particular cocktail is all oily and smells like a cheap box of chocolates. I can totally live with that. Luckily, I've got ok skin, and haven't accrued too many stretch marks yet, but I'm deathly afraid of turning into that 30 year old woman who looks like she got attacked by some kind of wild cat due to left-over stretch marks when she goes through her midlife crisis and lifts her shirt to flash the "Girls Gone Wild" guys.


so I'm taking all the possible preventative measures I can. HOWEVER, I'm NOT prepared to ruin any articles of clothing that can be categorized as the dwindling collection of attire that still fits my massively bloated body, tents and swimming pool liners not excluded. So, to prevent oil stains, I'm walking around in my underwear. I remember when I used to do this just for the hell of it, and not out of necessity. Oh how the times have changed. Not only do I not get to ENJOY being half naked, because I'm all oily and afraid to sit on anything, but I'm having to fight the urge to go around breaking all the mirrors like a crazy woman because I can't stand the constant reminder that I'm not at all sexy, and will continue to be not at all sexy for another 3 months. I feel like I need one of those professional encouragement counselors. You know, those people who get paid to follow mentally handicapped people around, telling them how awesome they are and giving them high-fives every time they manage to take a step without falling on their face? Yeah. I need one. Except mine will tell me how coordinated I am, and I'll get a high-five every time I DON'T forget a vital piece of information, or leave my cell phone in the refrigerator.




And lastly, they'll tell me how awesomely hot I am, and never once mention that I'm "as big as a house" or that I "look like I'm due already" like everyone else around me seems to feel the need to do. And I won't have to sound like one of those whiny little bitches and say "Ugh. I look like a sea-cow :(" to get them to say these things. Yes...yes I'm liking the sound of this....I wonder where I can find one of these people...Think they'd be in the phone book under "professional high-fivers"?

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Thank you, auto-correct

So, as we all know, auto-correct on cell phones can be pretty annoying. You're just minding your own business, texting away, and suddenly you get a response like "Wtf? What does 'I don't give a duck' mean?" and then you have to take the time to explain the mistake, which will inevitably include even more auto-correct induced typos. Well, my auto-correct always changes "way" to "yay". I guess it's because I say "yay" more than I say "way", which says something about me that I'm not sure I want to analyze too closely. Anyways. So one day, I text my brother. "I'm on my way" I intend to say. He responds back "You're on your Yay? Wtf is a Yay?". Instead of just correcting myself, I immediately think of this:



Me: Yeah. I'm on my Yay. He's kinda slow, but he makes up for it in cute and fluffy.

Brother: o.O Wtf are you talking about?

Me: My Yay. It's kind of a mix between a llama, a zebra, and a unicorn. Anyway. He got distracted (that happens a lot, he's kind of ADD), so we're gonna be a few minutes late.

Brother: yeeeeeaaaah. Ok. Just text when you get here.

Nobody understands me :(

Suddenly, I'm scared of the dark...



So, my computer is nowhere near the light switch in my living/dining room, so every night when I head to bed, I switch off the computer screen and use my cell phone as a flashlight to make it from the desk to the bedroom. I've never really been scared of the dark, I started doing this because I'm HOPELESSLY clumsy and I would run into every possible piece of furniture between the desk and the room. But I soon became dependent on having the light. If my phone wasn't on the computer desk, I would try to make it to the room without it and found I would turn into a blubbering 5 year old by the time I reached the room. I do that thing where the farther I walk, the more I feel the need to go faster, until I'm running full speed in the dark and JUMP onto the bed from the doorway (landing on top of my boyfriend, who is not a happy camper), and I finally feel irrationally safe in the bed, eyes wide and hiding under the covers. So from then on I always made sure I had the phone on the desk before I turned the screen off. The only problem is, my desk looks like this:

So once the light is off, I sometimes have trouble finding the phone. You would think I would remember to find it before I turned off the screen, but I never do. And once the screen is off, and I get panicked, I'm scared to turn the screen back on because of what hideous drooling creature might be lurking in front of me, simply waiting until I can see it to maul me.
Here's a graph to show how quickly my panic level rises to uncontrollable levels:




"Ugh. Where did I put that phone?"

"Ok seriously. It was right here...

"O.O What was that noise...PHONE PHONE PHONE!!!"

At this point, I'm incapable of movement. I just stand there, frozen in fear, trying not to urinate on myself, still frantically feeling around with my hands for the phone. Then, reverting back to Full 5 Year Old Mode, I call my boyfriend who's laying down in the room already to see if he'll come in and turn on the light across the room. He, of course, is of no use at all.

"I'm going to die tonight..."
By now I've given up all hope of surviving. If I don't find the phone in the next few seconds, I either have a massive heart attack, start to seize, or begin sobbing so uncontrollably that boyfriend runs in and turns on the light to see what the hell is the matter with me, at which time I find my phone a couple centimeters from my hand and am now perfectly ok.

Yes. This fear is completely irrational. My brain knows this. But this is what I do with ALL my fears. It starts out a non-existent fear, like my fear of spiders. Me and spiders, we were cool. I didn't want to pet them or anything, but we could occupy the same space without it sending me into a shivering, crying, unintelligibly blubbering stupor. I get the heebies ONE time from a spider, and from then on, it just got worse and worse. By the end of that year, I couldn't even look at a PICTURE of a spider without jumping 5 feet back, screaming like a small child when you put on one of those creepy Halloween masks and scare the shit out of them, and throwing something at the computer/book/tv (whatever produced the evil image).
The more irrational the fear, the faster it escalates to debilitating proportions.
I should probably get that checked out, but shrinks kinda give me the heebies. Great... :/