MENSTRUATION!

A couple months ago my sister told me that her boyfriend LOVED going to Costco. When I found this out I was overjoyed. I was like 'SWEET! Now I can have like a years worth of tampons for the cost of like six months worth of tampons!' (Or that is what I thought because I've never been in a Costco and I have no idea what the prices are like...but I imagine that the prices rule.) So, I was all like, 'Tell him to buy me a YEAR'S WORTH OF TAMPONS!'

She said he wouldn't because he doesn't even buy her tampons at a regular store. Fuck that shit. If your boyfriend won't even buy you tampons, then you might as well just get pregnant. (kidding [or am I?])

I hate running out of bathroom stuff. I hate buying tampons (because I only ever buy a month's supply), I hate running out of toilet paper, I hate running out of toothpaste...blah blah blah. You know, because I assume you feel the same way.

So, today I went to the dollar store to buy some tampons, the cheapest kind, because I feel like they should be free, because dudes don't have to spend shit on shit for their hygiene if they don't feel like it...And I bought a lot of cheap-ass tampons, and if the string breaks off, I'll flip my shit because that's never happened before, but I could totally handle it, but it would be lame, and I would write a very graphic letter to Femtex explaining what happened...BUT I DIGRESS!

The point is; that when I was reading the stupid insert about TSS on these cheap-ass tampons,(because, for some reason, I always do, and I also want to see how the diagram portrays a vagina/uterus) I discovered that they measure the absorption rate of the tampons with something called a "SYNGYNA test". WTF?!

Oh, food...

So, at my birthday party all I was trying to do was eat a delicious Chicken Chili Verde Burrito from Trader Joe's...It sounds so simple right? I hunker down, cut a piece (yes, I CUT burritos [Taco Bell taught me that food spills out of burritos {and I don't fuck with food stained shirts anymore}]). I put that first delicious bite in my mouth, and FUCK ME, I bit down on my lip piercing with my canine tooth hard enough to take out a huge chunk of tooth.

I mean, it's not that HUGE. I really have to point it out to people when I show them. And I show EVERYONE. Even strangers. I'm all like, look what I did to myself on my BIRTHDAY! Yeah, that's gonna cost a couple hundred dollars to fix.

And the worst part? I had to spit out that first burrito bite, because it was all full of tooth. Anyway, my lip piercing is dead to me. Forever. I'm done with that shit. You ruin even a bite of my burrito, and there's a Hell you have to Pay.

Enjoy this quote-out-of-context:

"But if I call my mom we can order pizza AND get abortion pills."

Shrink Wrap: A thought and a dream

Every time I cut the shrink wrap off a pallet at work I think about how similar it must be to a doctor cutting open a person to do surgery. Then I think: this is the closest I will ever become to being a surgeon.

TARGET RATZ!

I saw three rats today. One was dead, but it still counts.

I saw some stuff!

Things I saw that I want YOU to see too!

erg. i hate flying.

So, now I am starting to freakout about this trip. Mainly because I don't want to die in a plane crash. I mean, it would be cool if the plane crashed and some type of "Lost" adventure ensued, minus all the death and shiz...and scary stuff...But since I'm not flying over an ocean, I don't even have that to look forward to.

The fact that I don't FULLY expect to die on this plane trip kinda makes me think that I totally WILL die on this plane trip. And the fact that I'm flying on such an infamous plane-death-day, makes me think I'll live, only to die on the return trip (which is a much less infamous death day...)

Since all of my worst fears come true, I would like you to know that if I DO die on this trip, I saw it coming for the most part. If I don't, well, I've been wrong before.

C'mon kids. Git it.

I can't get this out of my head. You're welcome.

Watch this first:




Watch this second:

A typical conversation

Drawer: slam

Other Drawer: SLAM

Cabinet: SLAM SLAM

Other Cabinet: slam BANG

Me taking a shower: Hey! HEY! Are you mad or something?

Boyfriend: WAT? Why are you asking me that?!

Me taking a shower: Because you're slamming drawers and shit!

Boyfriend: I'm. Not. Mad. I. Just. Don't. Know. My. Own. Strength. Emily.



True story. Based on facts.

Braggart, I know.

I've gotten sappy.

Maybe it's because my boyfriend brings me cheese fries.

Maybe it's because Corndog Fluffernutter is so damn cute when he crosses his paws.

Maybe it's because I put down 4 bottles of wine with my three favorite people in the world.

None of this means that I'm still not looking for a fight.

Because I would still break a bottle and cut you faster than you could blink.

This I believe.

...and then I did a bunch of shit I said I would never do...

I started biking to work. Pretty much religiously, as long as it's not raining. It is 4.1 miles to and from work, which means that I'm biking 8.2 miles, five days a week. I was always afraid of getting hit or of something retarded happening to me, but, so far, so good...And it feels so good to be moving and doing something relatively healthy. Plus, I pass a Potbelly's Restaurant on my way home, so...SANDWICH ME!

I guess it helps that my boyfriend is a bicycle enthusiast, and he was willing to ride around with me and learn me things about the open road. As of right now, one of my favorite things to do is ride bikes all around with him. If that sounds lame, then sorry. I'm just having so much fun lately that I can hardly believe it. Seriously. SERIOUSLY.

And my phobic ass is going to actually get on a plane in about a month. Yes, I am going to go to California to meet my boyfriends family. I'm not even having panic attacks about it, I'm STRAIGHT UP excited. (I'll still get some sedatives though. I'm not Superman up in here).

It's crazy. All I want to do is eat chicken, ride bikes with my boyfriend and make jokes. Life is good.

I don't even remember how to cry.

What I think I look like when I get the hiccups:

Another 7-Eleven Adventure. Not.

Tonight I decided to indulge most of my worst vices...I went to 7-Eleven to buy cigarettes (ultra-lights [I AM trying to quit smoking you know...]), wine (4.99 bitches!), and lottery tickets (that's what poor people do!). And as obsessed as I was with getting there before they stopped selling tickets for tonights drawing, I realized after I left that I didn't remember if I had grabbed my keys to get back in my apartment...PANIC ATTACK!(My landlord's on vacation for three weeks and my boyfriend won't be home for like four and a half hours).

But after a frantic search, my auto-pilot apparently works and my keys were in my bag. Thank you Universe! I got locked out two weeks ago and luckily someone was around to let me in, but this could have been lame. I probably would have been found in my alley covered in my own pee, sweating to death while locals shot bottle rockets at my head and asked me for cigarettes and change. F that.

If I DO win the lotto, never expect to know. That's a promise I made to myself after I got like 5% common sense. I advise you to make the same promise to yourself. That's called 'advice', and if you know what's good for you, you would listen to me on this one.

Illinois OUT!

Bit O' Perspective

One might be angry if one's boyfriend is playing a video game when one goes to sleep. Then when one wakes up for work at six a.m., said boyfriend is still playing said video game...

But as much as I like to get and give hugs and cuddles all night...I much prefer not being stabbed to death by a stranger who breaks in when the lights go off...

And that's called: having perspective.

What the FUCK was I supposed to do? ERG.

Oh. The bus...

I was waiting for the bus on my way home from work today. Totally in space. Reading something. Being hot in the sun.

Then this kid comes up to me and just starts talking. He tells me that he was going to meet his friend, but his friend wasn't there. And he asks me when the bus is coming. And he's just standing there.

It's the middle of the day and everything. But, I'm still like, shit, kid, why are you talking to strangers? (I didn't say that, but I thought it...)

So, at first I'm just kinda like, okay, I'll just keep an eye on him. I don't want any perv or weirdo to come up, you know?

Then he's asking me questions about my phone. And my bus card. And the internet. And telling me where he lives and who's he's visiting. And, I mean, I was talking to him, if for no other reason than for it to seem like we know each other. I didn't want him to start talking to a drunk or a weirdo...he was so friendly. Seriously, a real conversationalist. So, he tells me where he's going. And I'm keeping an eye out for his stop, and he doesn't know the street really, just what park it's by...And I'm thinking, should I tell him not to talk to strangers? Should I give him some life advice? What the fuck should I do? I mean, I'm fucking WORRIED about this kid...He must have been like nine or ten or something...in the big city...alone, talking to weirdos.

I mean, this kid leans over in the bus and asks this girl wearing a Cubs hat who won the game...And then he asks her who was playing...Then tells her that he likes the Sox and not the Cubs...

So, we get to where I'm pretty sure is his stop and I tell him, 'This is your stop right?' And up he jumps, in mid-sentence. He says something to the bus driver. Gets off the bus. And proceeds to try to cross in front of the bus on a green light. I mean, I wanted to walk this kid home and have a word with his parents...

I don't know, you guys. I just don't know...

I like the rainbows...mainly because it's 'full on'...

watch this first...







watch this second...

Friday night: a night to remember

So, my little brother had a facebook status update. Then some kid born in 1994 started in with the rape jokes, which offended me. I am the only one allowed to make rape jokes, mainly because I hate rape so much! I'm sarcastic about it, which shows the general reader how very much against rape I happen to be.

As you can see, as I start to lose my cool, my awesome boyfriend comes in to save the day.

I'm still not sure if we're going to heaven or hell for this one, but since I don't believe in either, I guess I shouldn't worry too much.

Click on the images to make them BIGGER. Internet wars are lame. But lameness never stopped me from anything before.

(also, I apologize for the sloppy pics. I'm not good at MS paint. [or anything else for that matter])

A recipe for disaster: a lesson for the boys

PREFACE: I'M NOT MAD/CRAZY/INSANE

The other day I left work early because I thought I was going to barf. Then I got home and had major diarrhea (whatevs, I can admit it). Then I took a shower and then took a nap.

Now, follow me on this one, my boyfriend's sister was visiting and he wanted to borrow a bike for her to use. One of his friends came through. She happened to be a former stripper. She was going to drop the bike off at our apartment. I had never met her...

Sooooooooooooooo. I woke up from my nap. To girls giggling in my living room. Then I was all like, oh yeah, that girl is dropping off that bike. Then I was like, oh yeah, she is probably super hot because of her old job and stuff. Meanwhile, I looked like total crap because I went to sleep with wet hair and diarrhea and was wearing stupid sleeping clothes consisting of shorts un-hemmed on one side, and some lame shirt. So, I'm laying there for five minutes trying to figure out a way to come out of the bedroom and not seem like an ass. And all I can think is: I'm not going to even be looking close to my 'personal best' in front of a hot ex-stripper, and I had DIARRHEA today, I suck.

Yeah, so I was just like, 'fuck it', came out of the room, was all like 'hi', and they were like, 'Sorry you're sick' and I was all like 'you have NO IDEA'. Just kidding, I was like, 'thanks, I feel better.' And they WERE SUPER HOT. And POTENTIALLY BI-SEXUAL. That seems like a super-threat for some reason...Then they left. So, I think I failed in trying to not seem like a snizz. But I wasn't mad or being a B. I was just feeling weird and mud-butty. In fact, I would like to pick her brain someday.

But anyway boys, it is probably not a good idea to have your super-hot ex-stripper friend and her (potential girl-) friend, who is also super hot, giggling at everything you say, as your sick girlfriend sleeps in the other room...Especially if she is insecure (which I am). But, I found the whole situation more hilarious than anything else. Still though, really, probably not a good idea. Unless your girlfriend loves to write stupid shit on a blog no one reads, then it is probably a good idea. Kind of.

Tooth fail

So, today I got the permanent cap on my stupid root canal. I had a temporary on for two months and it was kind of hurting and freaking me out. I like to say things like, "tell me the TOOTH" and, "you can't handle the TOOTH" when I'm having work done on my teeth. Mainly, because I have teeth on the brain (not literally of course...[I hope]). I was thinking really hard about how I could make one of those sentences into an entire blog when my mind started wandering and thinking about how retarded my stupid teeth can be and what a pain in the ass they sometimes are; like when they crack in half when I'm simply trying to eat a bagel sandwich, or hurt when I get too much sugar in them and stuff.

Then I had an epiphany.

A fucked up tooth is kinda like a bad teenager. Like if I was a bad parent (which I won't be), and my kid was all into shit, rotten shit, so to speak. Then my neglect of said teenager/child caused me to have to spend a ton of money to get them on the right track again even though he would never be the same nice, naturally pleasing person, he would have a tough exterior which looks like everyone else, but underneath he's gonna be all fucked up.

So, yeah, I learned a lot today. Like about parenting, from having a fucked up tooth. Also I'm kinda drunk. Don't hate.