Category Archives: family

cocoNUTS

Still nursing an uncomfortable belly, but it’s WORTH IT:

My parents are in town and took me for a steak dinner.  They promised this plus a tank of gas because I helped my mom set up her new printer via phone.  We probably would’ve gotten steak anyway, but I digress.

Once we were finished eating, we stopped by Home Depot for odds and ends, then I remembered that we were very close to a local frozen yogurt joint. The kind with like twelve flavors and a bangin’ toppings bar.

I inquired, but no one wanted yogurt but me.

So I drove up and went in.

And, much to my utter delight, Cake Batter was on the menu.

I got a small bowl of it, then topped it with mounds of coconut and some sprinkles.

It was like a dang coconut birthday cake party in my mouth.

I look like I’m pregnant with Longhorn and Fuzzy Peach’s lovechild and I don’t even care.

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Have I ever told you…

that the house I grew up in was haunted? Now, you might be picturing a ramshackle, run down piece of crap house, but ours was nothing like that.  It was a cute brick ranch in a middle-class neighborhood with a very above-average yard (my parents have the greenest thumbs of anyone on the planet).  We had hair touching, and phantom tv noises, and “who the hell was I playing with?” moments and parents falling out of the attic but feeling pushed moments.

My parents have since moved to a larger house in a town about 10 miles away, and every time I visit I go by our old house.  It is apparently empty now, and I desperately want to find the woman who bought it to ask her if anything ever touched her hair or otherwise scared the crap out of her.

that sometimes I do lots and lots of random shit at odd hours? For example, it is now 3:03 am, Eastern time, and I am blogging. Two hours ago I was taking a camera phone photo of myself and my room as proof of the aftermath of ebaying.  I tore shit apart in my entire apartment looking for one USB cord that is seriously about 10 years old, all so I could sell my old digital camera.  I did a total super-cussin’ victory dance that included thanking Jesus [for real], fist pumping, jumping around and doing some weird cheerleader-type stunt with the help of my bed.

One night about a year ago, I decided to move my entire living room around, also at about 3am.  After thirty minutes of sweating and cussing, I realized I hated it and went to bed very angry.  I moved it back about a week later, completely crestfallen.

Cleaning the bathroom and driving also make this list.  Maybe those don’t necessarily qualify as “random shit” but most people I know do not take a two to three hour nap just so they can drive at 4am and avoid traffic, or decide that their bathtub HAS to be sparkling after a night out til 2.

that almost nothing grosses me out? (This does NOT count worms on the sidewalk) If you look closely, you’ll see I have the categories “farts” and “snot and boogers” in this blog.  My family has no qualms about discussing bowel movements and nasal output.  I’m lucky that many of my friends feel this way as well.  It isn’t uncommon for my friend Katie and I to email or text each other:  “Dude, I just took the greatest shit of my life.  It filled the bowl,” or “My butt just exploded.”  The latter is often after we hit up our favorite sushi joint.  Go figure.

My brother-in-law and I discuss farts on a regular basis and I have often been the victim of his crop dusting skills. And he is an EXPERT.

that my ideal house is one that may resemble a castle, will probably creep people out a little when they come over, and will also probably be dust-filled? Ok, so we can probably attribute the dustiness to my hatred of dusting. Seriously. I have not dusted my apartment in YEARS, except for the last time this guy I’m kind of seeing came over.  And that was just a dusting of the bookshelves around my Mexican money and skeleton key collection.  However, dust does lend a certain creep factor to things and although I am by no means some goth girl, I LOVE creepy.

I think antiques and dark wallpaper and damask fabric are beautiful things and I am all over trying to have a house that features this.  Bonuses would include: gargoyle statues, an atrium with tinted windows so it always seems gloomy out, and a library with large windows flanked by heavy, heavy drapery.

Boo!

I love Antoine Dodson

this is the remix of his hilarious interview. watch it. now. this includes you, creepers.

Things adults should never say = things I have heard adults say

“Let’s see if there’s a Bucky’s around.  I could go for a latte.”A grown man  Any person alive should not refer to Starbucks as “Bucky’s.” Ever.

“Dere’s go.” – A former coworker would say this CONSTANTLY instead of “There we go”.  Someone has spent a little too much time around her grandkids.

“my ‘rents” – Are you seriously too lazy to fully say the word “parents”? Plus, ” ‘rents ” just sounds stupid.

“cool beans” – I’m sorry, I just have a personal hatred for anyone who uses this term.  Where are these beans and why are they so cool?

“chillax” – Are you on your way to the frat house to “bro down” with your homeboys before the kegger tonight?

“liberry”, “valentime’s day”, or “birfday” – if you are over the age of five, you should probably have your dental fricatives down pat.  I’m looking at YOU, ex-bosslady.

Anything that is said in a baby-voice or a squeal – there is a FORTY YEAR OLD woman in my office who speaks this way on a daily basis. It makes me want to rip my eardrums to shreds with my scissors.

Bluh.

This is my favorite wedding photo of all time:

yes, that is me making demon face on the right, while my sister makes a cute “i’m getting married” face

Dead girl walking.

I am running on <4 hours of sleep.

I have puffy-eye and my coworkers have been saying “you look exhausted” or “you look like you’re in a bad mood.”

yes for the first, no for the second.

although i WAS in a semi-bad mood when i got a ranting comment on my “smiling sex offenders” entry

then i did some research and found out that the commenter well, you know.

if you don’t like this blog, don’t read it.

or, don’t fuck 14 year olds.

your choice.

I didn’t tell you how I almost died again.

Ok, kinda almost died.

Ok, had a scare that I might have a life-threatening blood clot in my lung.

Maybe.

I’d been having weird breathing issues for about two weeks.  I don’t have asthma, but my dad and sister do.  My mom has had pneumonia like eight times and we both get bronchitis really easily, so I figured at WORST it’d be walking pneumonia.

Boy, was I in for it.

I got to my doctor’s office and he listened to my chest.  It sounded clear, but he decided to take my oxygen level.

It was 94%.

NINETY-FOUR  OUT OF ONE-HUNDRED.

If I were taking a calculus test, I’d be thrilled at a 94, but when your level is supposed to be around 98% and it’s OXYGEN we’re talking about, it’s not so great.

So, my doctor orders a chest x-ray. STAT, even.

It came out clear.  No pneumonia or anything.

He then says to me,  “I want to order a CAT scan for you.  There’s a chance you could have a blood clot in your lung.  If there IS one,  you’ll have to be admitted to the hospital for two days to go on blood thinners.”

Cue my bowels feeling liquidy and me internally yelling, “Ah shit, man! Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Doc W then went on to say that he was just being cautious and nervous and that I “had everything on the good side” meaning I’m under 35, I don’t smoke, etc.

So I got scheduled for a CAT scan at 2pm across town.  I figured I’d go home, get my cell phone, pack a just-in-case bag, and then go back to the office for a bit.

As soon as I walked in my apartment, my cell phone rang: “The Fresh Cracker, this is JP from name of my doctor’s office.  You need to go to name of  hospital across town right now  and they can work you in for your CAT scan.”

That is when this cracker got a little nervous. I mean, everything was “STAT” and “ASAP” so I was like “WTF” and “OMG”.

So I go to the hospital across town and register for my CAT scan.  And they put a hospital bracelet on me.

I go to the waiting room where I sit for about seven minutes before a super nice chick comes to get me.

She explains everything [including the fact that I must remove my necklace and underwire bra] and I hop on the table.

She then explains that I will be given an IV of iodine for tracking and it will make me have an odd taste in the back of my mouth and feel like I’m wetting myself.

Yeah, right. I figured it was one of those “Warning: contents under pressure.  Cap may blow off causing eye damage” type things. Possible, but unlikely to happen.

Boy, am I glad she warned me.

After she sent the iodine through my IV, I immediately got a nasty taste in my mouth. And felt like I was whizzing all over myself.

Seriously, had I not been warned, I would’ve been all “Um, nurse? I…. I had an accident.”

So, it was all over with, and nice radiologist lady and I were laughing about the pee-feeling. 

I went and sat back in the waiting room for a bit, then they called my name, handed me my films, and told me to go back and see my PCP. [No, not THAT kind of PCP]

I get to Dr. W’s office and check BACK in, handing them my films.

Then I wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

A nurse type lady comes out, calls my name, then says, “Miss Cracker.  I’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long.  Dr. W is figuring out what he wants to do and we’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

Right then, I get sweaty palm [jsyk, my palms smell like potatoes when I sweat. dunno why] and start thinking “Shit! I can’t go into the hospital! They charge like five bucks for a BAND AID there and yeah, sure, insurance covers 80% but that means I have to pay 20% and since my office is at the hospital, I know what kind of shitbag hospital it really is and I know of people who’ve gotten CRAP care there.”

and other kinds of “Oh NOEEEEZ!” thoughts.

So I finally get called back and they put me in a room.

Dr. W comes in just a few minutes later and says…

“Your films are clear”

Good gah, I swear I almost lost control of my bowels at that point.

The good doctor goes on to tell me that I apparently had bronchitis with an asthmatic reaction.

Oh. So that’s why I’d been wheezing and struggling for breath.

So he put me on an inhaler and told me to call/come right in if the breathing problems continued.

He even had his office call me the next day to see if I was alright.

Whew!

Since then, I’ve had to use the old lung-sucker a few times. I would say that this sucks, but that would be too obvious.

A potpourri of the last few weeks…

Good. Gah.

The last few weeks have been crrrrazy, I tell ya.

First, I was going through the whole “what job do I take?!?!” conundrum.

That, I decided, would work itself out. And it did.

I told CRO 2 [the one with whom I interviewed AFTER accepting the job from CRO 1] that I needed to know something VERY soon, as I was putting another company’s offer on hold.

“Oh, yeah we want to make a decision very quickly.”

Cue the crickets; I waited almost two weeks, with the only contact being initiated by ME, only to be answered with out of office auto-replies and then an email saying “we’ll let you know when we hear something.”

The day before I was to go to another city for first-day orientation, I went into my old office with my pal J to retrieve my personal not-so-mini fridge.

Since I hadn’t heard from CRO 2 [they’ve been major wankers in the past, so I was pretty sick of them at this point] I went to their website and viewed my job profile.

“Interviewing” was still beside the job for which I’d interviewed. After almost TWO WEEKS.

Fuckers.

So I did what any self-respecting “I’m about to take a job with your competitor”-thinking person would do: I went to my profile and removed my name from consideration.

The next day, I got this email:

Hello Thefreshcracker,

Thank you for your interest in employment opportunities at Asshole CRO and the GMS team. We enjoyed speaking with you and appreciate the time you took to talk with us about your background and experience.

We reviewed a number of candidates for the Analyst I position and have found others whose qualifications more closely match our position profile. Unfortunately, we are not able to offer you employment at this time.

Best of luck to you in the future.

Thank you,
Tiffany

A: the recruiter’s name is Tiffany.
B: I got this email after, yes AFTER, I’d removed my name from consideration.

So I decided to stick with rad-and-awesome CRO. And I’m glad I did. My only real concerns were the commute [nine whole miles! lame.] and that their health benefits are more expensive. BEE EFF DEE.

The work environment: awesome
My boss: awesome
My coworkers: awesome.

I don’t even miss my old job with the crappy med students who could barely wipe their own asses.  My friend who still works there [in IT, so a MUCH better atmosphere] told me via email that my former boss looks “lost. and i mean LOST.” anytime someone comes in with a question.

i laughed diabolically and then felt a little guilty.

In other news, I got drunk at nightwork’s Halloween party and told my crush I thought he was cute.

Cue the awkwardness.

Also, my friend had a bike wreck and got injured.  Badly. Broken jaw and needing root canals injured.

No dental insurance.

So we’re trying to collect money at work to help with her bills.

JSYK: if you feel like being generous and helping her out, you can send Paypal payments to mailto:babetoothless@gmail.com

Aaaand over the Thanksgiving holiday my brother’s friend got stabbed, lost 40% of his blood volume, and almost died.

I also thought I had an intestinal blockage, but it turns out I just needed a laxative.

TMI?

Only me -or- That’s the story of my life

So, last week, I went on vacation to see my friends in New Hampshire. It was really nice up there, not too cold until the end of the week.

Let me give you a rundown on the things that happened while I was there:

– fell down the stairs
– hit my knee on my friend’s car and bruised it all to hell
– tripped and nearly fell down CONCRETE stairs
– had my brand new James Patterson book chewed by a pug [but only on the corners]
– stepped in a huge puddle on one of the cold nights
– accidentally said “Y’all have a good night” to some trick-or-treaters and their dad laughed at me [we were in New Hampshire]
– hit my head on a big pipe while stepping up to a platform in a sushi restaurant.

Other than those things, my trip was awesome. We went to the Salem Witch museum, Boston, Newburyport in Mass (best sushi EVER at Szechuan Taste, Sushi Yen & Thai Cafe), Kittery Maine, and a bunch of little towns in NH.

Before I left on my adventure, I’d gotten word from a CRO that I’d gotten a job i’d applied for there.

I haggled about salary a bit and got close to what I wanted.

I’d interviewed at a different CRO earlier and hadn’t heard back yet.

Monday before I left, I formally accepted the job I was offered.

Two days later, I received an email from CRO 2 that I hadn’t gotten the job [at the interview, they told me I was overqualified].

Two days after THAT, I was in Salem, MA when I got a voicemail from CRO 2 wanting me to interview for a higher position than the one I’d previously come in for.

end a sentence with a preposition why don’t you.

Anyway, I decided to go for it and take the second interview. They scheduled it for November 5th.

CRO 1 sent me papers via FedEx that I was to sign and fax back upon my return (Nov 5), accepting the job.

You can see my conundrum, can’t you?

So Monday, after carefully reviewing the paperwork, making sure I wouldn’t be carted off to jail if I didn’t actually show up after signing the stuff, I faxed it off.

Half an hour later, I trotted off to my interview with CRO 2.

It went pretty well, if you ignore the fact that I KNOW my face was red for a large part of the interview.

Oh, and if you ignore the fact that, right at the end as I was leaving, I looked over in the lobby and saw THE RECRUITER I WAS WORKING WITH FOR THE JOB AT CRO 1!!!!!!!

Seriously, now. What the fuck?

But, it seems that recruiter girl may have been applying for a job there, too. I mean, why else would she be sitting in the lobby of her company’s number one competitor?

Tomorrow my boss gets back from the convention she was on her way to when I told her I was leaving.

I’m interested to see how she act.

Oh p.s. Chad Michael Murray aka THIS DOUCHE FROM ONE TREE HILL: 1_chadmichaelmurray1.jpg

was on my flight from my town to my connecting flight.  He made sure to sit at a different gate and pull out a script or something and talk really loudly about it with his assistant.  I had my headphones on pretty high and I could STILL hear him.

When we got to our destination, his gate (Flight to Los Angeles) was right across from my gate to Boston.  He sat in the seats reserved for special-needs travelers because it was facing the aisle and he apparently expected a rush of “fans” to come up to him.

No one did.

douche.

The REM Sleep Diaries and The Theme Fiasco

Among a lot of other things in my life, one thing I do rather oddly is sleep.  Or, to be more specific, dream.

I first noticed that my dreaming patterns were something weird at age six.  I’d had a fever and ended up dreaming this:

Our family went on a trip to the beach [we’re beach people, in the David Sedaris school of thought] and Grover [from Sesame Street] went with us.  Upon returning home, I discovered that Grover had peed in his bathing suit and I threatened to tell on him.  Immediately, he turned into the Big Bad Wolf and trapped me behind my bed.

I woke up crying and my dad came and gave me baby aspirin and sat with me until I went back to sleep.

If only I’d known then how weird my dreams would get.

I often wake myself up by talking.  Also, by laughing.

I once dreamed that my sister and I were running through some building, when I slipped on a floor mat and started to fall.  Somehow, I slowed myself down and did a funny pose as I fell, with the intent of making her crack up.

It worked. REALLY well, because I started cracking up so loudly that I woke up, laughed a while, sighed, and went back to sleep.

True story.

I also once woke myself and my parents up by yelling for my mom in my sleep.  I was at that “everything is scary and I have to sleep on my parents’ bedroom floor” phase in my life, when I began dreaming that my brother was grabbing the back of my neck and tickling me [did you know tickling is a form of torture?].  In real, awake life when he did this, I used to yell for my mom to make him quit.  In my dream, asleep life, I also did this and woke up to myself saying “Moooooooooooooooooommmmmmmm!”

I immediately slurred, “Mom? Did I just call for you?”

“Uh huh. Yeah”

“Oh”

Then we all went back to sleep.

A lot of times, my dreams have recurring themes or settings.  The most popular dream setting? School.  And it’s usually my high school [vomit] and the dreams, more often than not, involve me either being VERY late to class, skipping class, or going to a class I’ve only attended once or twice and finding out that I have no idea what’s going on.

The second most-common setting is a grocery store.  One of my most memorable “WTF?” dreams involved me in soccer gear running down the aisle to get away from the ghost of the statue of liberty.

I know.

Usually, though, I’m searching for chocolate milk or orange juice. In EVERY grocery store dream.  Maybe this is a sign that I need more calcium and vitamin C?

Sometimes, my dreams completely escape my memory, but they make me wake up with a sense of urgency. 

For example, the other night I awoke with a start, sat upright, turned on my bedside lamp, and realized my heart was racing.

With absolutely no recollection of my dream, I grabbed my golf club [complete with head cut off; better for impaling intruders] and checked every nook and cranny of my apartment.

Even my washer/dryer closet where you’d have to be two-dimensional just to fit.

There was no one in my apartment but me. Thank God.

Since it’s taken me forever to write this entry, I’ve had another theme dream. AND IT SUCKED! (please refer to “Let me Borrow that Top” by Kelly in order to get the feel for that last phrase)

It was a school dream again.  This time, I had a World History exam and had missed the last few classes [par for the course so far] but, then, the dream carried over into real-life and I woke up like four times with a sense of panic thinking “Holy shit! I have to study for that exam!”

Good. Gah.