I Am Disgusting

I know I'm about to totally embarrass myself.  But, I think this story can be appreciated by other hairy friends.  Plus, if I can get one person to laugh, then my work is done for the day.  So here goes...

I've been at war with an ingrown hair ON MY FACE (more specifically, on my upper lip) for nearly 2 goddamn months.  It's one of those where you can see it upon very close inspection, BUT is protected by 25 layers of skin.  I couldn't get it!!  Every time I tried to pick at it, it would just create a big, disgusting zit.  Then turn scabby and red, which made it look worse.  So, I decided to just leave it until it came closer to the surface of the skin, which I may add almost killed me. Asking me to not pick at a hair is like asking me not to eat-- and that shit doesn't happen very often.

Let me give you a little background about my hair problem.  I have to constantly wax, tweeze, and otherwise de-hair myself on a regular basis.  I especially have problems with chin hairs.  Like, I could grow a goddamn goatee if I let my shit go.  And these aren't regular hairs, they are like weapons of mass destruction.  You have mace to ward off a mugger?  Well, I have a chin hair that could poke your fucking eye out, slit your throat, AND puncture a vital organ.  Don't mess with me...

So, I always have tweezers.  I have a pair that I keep in my car for emergencies.  Because we all know that natural light is best for detecting hairs and other abnormalities that we don't want to see.  I have all the bases covered- wax, tweezers, Veet.  I really hate hair.

Let me proceed with the ingrown hair story.  So, this morning I noticed that the hair looked closer to the surface.  It was a great moment for me, as I could almost taste victory-- finally getting the goddamn hair that has pestered me for so long.  Patience pays off my friends.  Behold, the mother of all disgusting facial hairs:

Omg. 

Omg x 1000000000.

Words can't even describe how I feel about this situation.  If you continue to be my friend after seeing this, I love you.  And I'll have you know I SAVED THE HAIR IN A FOLDED UP PIECE OF PAPER SO I COULD SHOW LAURA WHEN SHE GOT HOME.  That's how ridiculous I am.  I saved it like it was something spectacular.  Because, I am an asshole...

This is how disgusting I am.

The End.



 

I Still Haven't Cleaned The Bathroom

Ok, I know I said I'd post some after pictures of my bathroom.  BUT, I haven't cleaned it yet.  I really tried, but in all fairness, I worked 6 days last week, so my attention to detail isn't so good right now.  My level of agitation is at an all-time high.  I started to clean it, however.  I picked up some clothes off the floor.  Then we threw clothes back on the floor.  Then Laura picked up the clothes on the floor.  Now there's clothes back on the floor.  There's no winning!!!  Umm maybe a hamper??  But first things first, we don't even have a toothbrush holder yet. 

Our toothbrushes sit on the side of the sink, which is kind of disgusting.  I went to check holders out at Target and they were very expensive.  They were at least $10.  Why is everything so goddamn pricey??  I swear I'll get one soon.  But, I did buy 2 pairs of lounging pants that were $10 each.  So why couldn't spring for a toothbrush holder?  I really thought the pants were a great value and a huge savings.  I can wear them all winter long- during these cold nights.  It is currently 47 degrees AND the low of the evening will be 35.  I needed these pants!!!!  I'll save even more when I don't have to turn on the heater. Right now, I'm very toasty. 

'm kinda in an ativan haze right now, which basically means I don't give A FUCK.  Indifferent.  Lovely.  I had a really bad day.  I made an egg and cheese sangwich for dinner.  I accidentally left the burner on, with a pan on it, AND a goddamn spatula in the pan.  I was wondering what smelled like burning.  I finally got up (after I ate my sangwich), the kitchen was all smokey and the goddamn spatula handle fell off and was melting in the pan.  FUCK.  I took a picture of it, but for some reason it won't upload.  So, now I'm down to 1 functioning spatula. 


The moral of the story:  Christy is not to operate heavy machinery OR use the stove unsupervised while under the influence of ativan...

What a lame blog.  I need a nap, but I still have to wash my hair.  Shit.

Project: Date, Part 1

I have a dilemma.  I haven't had a date in almost a year.  My ex boyfriend and I broke up last year around this time.  I didn't even cry, so I suppose I really didn't give a shit.  Adios, mother fucker.  I mean really, there's more important things to cry about, like the passing of my dog, cat, and grandma.  Not to mention all the suffering and injustice in the world- abused children and animals, famine, war...  Or even saying goodbye to a friend, whom I miss dearly.  Those are things to cry about, not some asshole.  If some guy thinks I'm going to cry over him, that sure as shit not going to happen.  Nope.  I refuse to waste one minute of my time on that shit.  

I've had a few offers-- ummm by offers, I think one.  Some guy I met at a bar, while I was reaaallly drunk (thanks, Stephanie).  I accidentally gave him my phone number and he kept texting me for 2 months.  I must have made a fabulous impression.  I know it's a huge surprise, but I'm actually kinda friendly once I've guzzled a couple of drinks down.  I'm not bragging.  Seriously, I'm not.  In my drunken haze, I remember him showing me his TRACHEOSTOMY TUBE SCAR.  Jesus Christ.

I was talking to Stephanie tonight (she doesn't have a date either) and we were discussing how this date situation is getting ridiculous and out of control.  So, we've decided to work on finding dates.  QUALITY OVER QUANTITY.  And not awful ones, but with good jobs AND their own car.  Because really, there's no room in my car for passengers, so he has to drive.

So, I've come up with a short list of qualifications for my potential date.  Please feel free to make any additional suggestions.

1. No smoking, drinking, or drugs
2. Must be taller than me by 6 inches
3. Must make more than me, which isn't hard
4. Love dogs and cats
5. Preferably dark hair
6. Caring
7. Funny- but not funnier than me
8. Smart- I can't stand dummies
9. Integrity
10. Charming
11. Nerdy- but not Dungeons and Dragons nerdy
12. Handsome-  but really, beggars can't be choosers
13. Thoughtful
14. NOT arrogant or smug- seriously, I can't take it
15. Open minded
16. Democratic
17. NOT anxious- I just can't be with someone as neurotic as me
18. Nice teeth- no snags, please!!

Someone who will help an old lady with her groceries.
Someone who will run out into the street to save a lost dog.  
Someone who will donate a toy to a needy child.
Someone who will not stare at my sister's fake boobs.

**** He has to be best friends with my best friends, so we can do everything together ****

Ok, so now I just need a plan.  I suppose phase 1 would be getting out of the mother fucking house....

To Be Continued...

Ghost Radar

It's Saturday night.  What am I doing?  I'm sitting, watching tv, screwing around on the internet, and playing with my new iPhone app.  What is the app you ask?  Are you ready?  It's called Ghost Radar.  Basically it "attempts to detect paranormal activity by using various sensors on the device on which it is running".  THEN, it "translates" and forms words and displays them on the screen.  It also has a radar which shows exactly where the "ghostly" activity is. 

This is what it looks like:   Well, kinda- it is different on my phone.  It looks like a radar with a bunch of numbers and shit... But you get the idea...

So, I've been obsessing over it for 2 hours.  I haven't gotten much, but once it said "grandmother" which was KINDA creepy.  It has said other things, but nothing significant.  Can I reiterate, it's Saturday night, 10:08p, and I'm sitting by myself watching Swamp People and trying to contact the dead.  And I'm not even getting any goddamn activity.  As I write this, the screen is blank, no ghosts.  The goddamn ghosts are bored with my existence.  Ghost 1:  "ummm yeah, let's find someone else to haunt"  Ghost 2:  "this bitch sucks".  I'm sorry ghosts.  I don't know what to tell you.  I do indeed suck and I'm sorry.

So, since I'm throwing myself a little pity party, I have come up with a project.  PROJECT:  DATE...

To be continued...

I'm Not a Hoarder, Just a Slob

Tonight I met up with my ex-roomie Kristy.  She truly is a great person and friend.  AND she is seriously the most organized human in the universe.  Everything always has it's place and is neat and tidy.  She even keeps boxes for all her electronic devices.  When she moved, she placed her DVR and DVD player in it's original box.  And I'm not talking about just the box, but the little styrofoam wedge pieces which keep the items nice and snug within the box.  All of her DVD's/CD's are in the correct cases.  I bet she's never worn 2 different socks--- EVER.  Seriously, I have no clue how she survived living with me.  And we're still friends. 

Don't get me wrong.  My house doesn't look like an episode of Hoarders.  I don't have dead cats smashed between piles of rubbish.  There isn't moss growing in the bathroom, or any type of organic matter just chillin in a big heap of trash.  A goat isn't eating through the side of my house.  I don't shit in a Safeway bag because my bathroom isn't accessible.  I don't have weird attachments to coat hangers, or an old, ratty teddy bear that I bought at a garage sale.  I'm just a little messy, that's all.  If I make dinner, it might take me a few days to do the dishes.  No big, right?  Or, if I take off my socks, I just throw them on the floor.  Because, really, I'm not concerned with small messes.  I'll pick it up eventually.  I will admit though, that I start to get anxious and uncomfortable if things get too messy.

Here's an example:

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

The bathroom is at my breaking point.  I actually started to clean it, so now it looks better than the pictures.  I put some stuff away, then needed a rest.  I'll clean the rest tomorrow.  I'm just too tired!  AND if I got a little help from someone, I bet we could make the bathroom look lovely in no time at all.

Hmmmm.  Tomorrow I will show the after pictures.  So you know I can actually clean and I'm not a TOTAL slob.

Thank You For Not Thinking I'm Lame

I'm not feeling very inspired tonight.  I don't have anything funny, ummm a little funny, not funny AT ALL to write about-- well wait, I probably do, but I have writer's block.  And I use the term "writer" very, very loosely.

So, I wanted to take the time to thank my 2 readers.  That's right 2.  But I'd rather have 2 loyal readers than 50 fickle ass ones.  I'm perfectly content and ok with this.



Jess:  Thank you so much for all your comments.  You always comment my lame blogs and actually read them.  For that, I am grateful.  I love you.

Stephanie:  WTF.  You don't know how to leave comments, but this is equally good:

Quick reference?!?!!

Thank you both for your support.  I'm flattered that you both read my blog faithfully. :)

I Swear I'm Not a Stalker, But I Love Stevie Nicks

I have loved Stevie Nicks forever  I admire everything about her- well, her except her addiction to klonopin and cocaine in the 80s- not good.  She's so pretty, an amazing songwriter, has a hauntingly beautiful voice, AND she can harmonize with anyone on this planet.  Her songs consist of poetry paired with awesome melodies and music.  Her music is empowering and often speaks of love and friendship and life/death- and anything that has meaning.  Did you know she wrote a song about Jane Goodall?    

All of the songs she sang with Fleetwood Mac, she wrote.  Yep.  Landslide, Gypsy, Beautiful Child (which is one of my favorite songs EVER- if I could stand to listen to it because it's so incredibly sad), Silver Spring, Sara, Rhiannon...  she wrote all of them.  Don't get me wrong, Fleetwood Mac is awesome.  Lindsey Buckingham is an amazing guitarist (but his hair kinda looks like Kramer from Seinfeld), Mick Fleetwood is amazing on drums, but Stevie literally steals the show.  I've seen Fleetwood Mac a few times in concert, but I much prefer to see Stevie solo.  Yep.  I sure do.

I've seen her in concert several times, and honestly, it has been some of the best times I've ever had.  It's so much fun.  I never go away disappointed and I always want more.  I've cried at her shows and I've smiled so much that my cheeks hurt.  Yes, it's that good.  When she does her famous spin, the crowd goes wild.  Why is that so cool?

I am such a stalker.

 The song Nightbird is one of my favorites.  It's actually about her best friend who passed away.  I absolutely love the lyrics, "And when I call Will you walk gently Thru my shadow".  It's so touching-- follow me in the shadows, where no one can see you, but I know you are there forever.  Ahhhhh.  Lovely.

And when I call
Will you walk gently
Thru my shadow
The ones who sing at night
The ones who sing at night
The ones you dream of
The ones who walk away
Capes pulled around them tight
Cryin' for the night
Cry for the nightbird...tonite



And another favorite Outside the Rain.  I've listened to this song a million times.  Basically,  yeah, I'm hurt right now, but I'm sick of the shit.  Love shouldn't be so difficult.  Oh, and by the way, good luck trying to find someone like me.  So go eff yourself.

And it's been like dying -
No love's that hard to find -
And I'm tired of -
I'm tired of trying
Outside the rain
And the heart skips a beat
So you're lonely


Look in my eyes
Touch my face
Baby, there's no one
That can take my place

Stevie has helped me in so many different scenarios with her music.  Her thoughtfulness and depth.  Her knowledge of loss and love and her willingness to share with us.  What can I say?  I love Stevie Nicks.

The End.