oprah's bra

i've had a toothache for 7 days. no. it must be much longer than that. when you have a toothache, time stands still.

i don't think ache accurately describes the torment this little piece of dentin is causing me. my knee aches when it rains. my back aches when i sit for too long. this is not an ache. this is terror. i feel like someone is living inside my tooth, thinking of all the mean things he can do to make me break. i've only cried once, but he is winning.

i have layed awake at night, head throbbing, thinking of creative ways to pull my tooth out without too much blood. i wish i could make a time machine and go back to the old west where a swig of whiskey and a prayer were the precursor to a man name hank, pulling the bad boy out with a rusty pair of pliers. i would let him. i would.

to forget my pain, i decided to go running. running is something i hate...nay, that i loathe. what pain could be worse than that of a infected root? running. the heavy breathing. the heavy breasts. the mental boredom. the burning sensation in nose. the inability to keep earbuds in. the public shame. i decided i could no longer withstand tooth death and went for a more participatory torture.

i pulled my stripped socks up to my calves. my black shoes that give the illusion of Velcro were fastened tight. a bright blue pair of 100%  cotton shorts, from some awkward 1980's gym uniform accompanied 3 sports bras and a shirt with a pig on it as i braved the elements. dimly lit streets welcomed my embarrassment as i fumbled with the electronic contraption i gave up on 20 seconds into my 13 minute escape. i found myself hoping someone would try to chase me, but quickly realized my outfit would most likely act as a repellent. each step i took i thought about how horribly out of shape i was. when i felt like crying i made myself imagine myself so fat i had to be sponge bathed by an unlucky relative. that thought got me back home.

my plan worked for 13 minutes. i didn't think about my tooth. i thought a lot about sports bras and death, but not about my tooth. i came back to my room and lifted by shirt up and saw my tummy in the mirror. "better luck next time" i told him. next time? maybe. considering the dentist won't be my friend for another week, this may continue.

i am preparing for that by ordering a sports bra recommended by oprah and that girl from mad men with giant knockers. it looks like a pair of shiny grandma underwear reconstructed to be a middle ages shield... and i am pretty sure i'd rather have this toothache for the rest of my life than anyone ever seeing me wear it.

i like dogs and chili

i got a big tip and a wink today, but could only keep the wink because my apron isn't monogrammed yet. as long as i have a pin with my name on it, i can't keep those dollar bills. i should give the wink to my sister. she can't wink.

i'm serious. deanna can't wink! it's bizarre and unnerving. of all my talents, i might value winking the highest. just a bat of some eyelashes and you can communicate so many things--flirtation, admiration, but mostly creepiness.  what a shame that such an accomplished young lady can't close one eye at a time. luckily for her her sister is the secretary of hugs, kisses and winks, too.

i feel my sister dee doesn't get much screen time here. i have pleanty of stories, i just fear i might tarnish her future in public law. oh well, i've waited long enough and now it's time to dish.

dee is wonderful. she's cute and has more clothes than your average girl...but she mostly gets them by swindling her local consignment shop.

dee has a long history with creepy guys. maybe that's why we relate so well.

the first time i fainted, dee was there to comfort and console me. sarah was in the garden.

dee has been present in many of my most bizarre experiences. i'm glad she has been because when people accuse me of making things up, i can put her on speakerphone and have my name cleared. she would never lie. she's going to be a lawyer.

one time in our mid twenties dee and i cowered in the back of a tent because a girl was mad at us for not eating her chili-dogs. sorry, not sorry. i like dogs and i like chili, but only patrons of foodbourn illnesses go for the combo.

that same night dee would politely ask to put her cold hands on my tummy to warm them up. my above average body temp was the least i could do for the girl who has come to my rescue many times.

one time dee and i spent the entire 5 hour trip from our college to home prank calling people with an Indian accent. we also spent a whole summer working at a school supply factory. I fainted, due to heat, but dee was my number one supporter as i fought for workers rights and left a frightening complaint in the "comments" box. one week later, each station had a fan.

i haven't really told any embarrassing stories yet, but that just means i'm saving them for later. we'll call this an appetizer...or perhaps an h'orderve if you wanna get real fansay like.

have you ever seen anything grosser than a fancy feast commercial? it's like the feline version of a chili dog.

dontcryoverspiltalmondmilk

i'm laying in my bed eating jelly-flops. ok i am not, but i wish i was.

i am sitting on the floor eating cereal with almond milk. almond milk is a new adventure as i despise milk of all forms. so far so good. that is after i spilled my entire bowl onto my orange carpet. can't see it, but i'm sure i'll smell it soon.

i guess it used to be a thing for when a woman got married, she would take her breakfast in bed. married women have all luck! they get to eat in bed AND get their backs washed.

there are about 7 boys in my living room. i had to sneak into the main room to get some almond milk, and i said "i feel like i should wear a boy disguise to fit in". one of them said i didn't need one--i was already one of the guys. boom boom boom. i'm guessing he meant a really feminine gay man...

maybe it has to to with the sweatsuit or carhart hat. maybe its my boy like lower body. all i can say is there comes a time in every young woman who has ever been compared to a boy multiple time's life to start wearing mini skirts and cleavage exposing leopard print shirts. look out bellingham!

geodesic dome art

I love popcorn. I really really do. When I was little my family would watch lawerence welk and eat popcorn for dinner on Sundays. My dad had this big wooden bowl that said "chucks popcorn" and the deliciousness inside soon became chucks famous popcorn. I could eat popcorn everyday, and when I'm home I think I do. This year for Christmas, my gift was the whirley pop. Bittersweet,man.

When I have a family I hope to institute such fabulous traditions as lawerence welk popcorn Sundays.   I love traditions. Traditions are like socially acceptable compulsions. Anytime mental illness is mainstreamed, I'm on board.

I've been a little melancholy lately. Nothing to be worried about. I mostly wanted to use that word. It's a good one.

I love words, but I'm a horrible speller. Surprisingly though, I'm great at wheel of fortune. Spelling isn't important. Either is math. Mrs. Mott of 10th grade geometry will disagree. She told me I'd never make it in life without it. I've really showed her! Maybe I can work some geodesic dome art into my lattes.

I love geodesic domes! More than lawerence, but less than popcorn. I know what I like.

i'm not as young as i used to be.

there are now valentine day displays out. to be really accurate they should also include pizza hut coupons and boxes of chocolates that students give to their professor who then gives it to their son who then gives it to his girlfriend. just sayin'.

i miss my dog so much that my tummy hurts. sometimes i'm frightened by how much i love my dog because i think if i ever have a human child, my heart might explode. my heart might also explode due to the fact that i ate an entire package of fudge sticks and 2 pieces of pizza at 10pm. that also might be the reason for the tummy ache. who knows.

i start my job on monday. i thought of having a celebration/bon voyage to laziness party, but as it turns out i'm just bringing some beans and peppers to some boy's house. could get hot with the peppers. we'll see.

the great thing about my new job is that it requires a black on black outfit. second only to jean on jean, black on black is flattering, easy and doesn't require a gold vest. i once had to wear a gold vest and have never felt so disgusting...or like a native american blackjack dealer. at least i know god looks at my heart.

IM OUTTA HERE.

before and after: buttered popcorn bucket

if you're interested in delighting your nostrils with the delicious scents of jelly bellies, you're in luck. a $1 air freshener smelling of "very cherry" has been discovered at Bellingham's finest: BigLots. While I would prefer Buttered Popcorn, I can't say I am disappointed with the affordable and adorable jellybean hanging from my rear view mirror.

i fainted again. luckily for me, the last two times i've fainted, i'm already laying down. dentist chair. bed. nothing like loosing consciousness in comfort.

i got a job. congratz, sonia. i don't know what i'll do when i don't have whole days to accomplish simple tasks such as laundry or making a bed. i don't know what i'll do when i don't go to bed at 2 in the morning thanks to cool runnings, little women, anne or martha inc-the story of martha stewart. i don't know what i'll do when i shower more than twice a week. i don't know what i'll do when i make new friends and have an income. i don't know and i don't wanna.

something i do not like: sleep number bed commercials. excuse me? only gross murderers sleep on mattresses without sheets or blankets.

something i do like: the convenience of spraying fabreeze fabric refresher in the pits of my dressy jacket before an interview. dry clean only? i'll show you.

i have to get a membership at costco so i can buy razors in bulk. one day i'll have to shave my legs, and i'm sure i'll need multiple blades. that is gross, but i figured its the least of all the embarrassing things i've shared in this web 2.0 forum.

a long overdue acknowledgement / lifelong offering of thanks:

edwina cuttwater- you've changed my life. While i love the novelty of my $10 walmart phone, nothing makes a woman feel more refined, sexy and smart than a smart phone. your generosity to a stranger, while absolutely unexpected,  is not surprising considering you helped create the most considerate young man on the planet. when i heard about the popcorn bucket, i knew you were special. thank you from the bottom of my heart  and from my outstretched fingers on this tiny little screen. i'm already on the look out for tickets when no doubt goes back on tour...on me. you just get the popcorn.

righterz block sugz

i am at starbucks looking for jobs...but mostly looking at people. i got a $25 gift card thanks to a generous soul and now i have at least 20 opportunities to creepily watch people. (as long as i don't get any flavor shots. then we're looking at 10 opportunities.)

you can see some weird people do weird things when you're secretly watching. one lady has been discreetly eating pickles. one man has a legitimate brittany spears microphone on. a lady dumped out most of her coffee and filled her cup with half and half. i love people, but i mostly love watching weird people.

a man just winked at me. unfortunately, he's not weird, so i'm not interested.

normal people make me feel uncomfortable. of course i know that no one is normal...but those who have enough self control to appear so intimidate me. how do they do it? how do they silence the voices?

update: he has begun some groin stretches with a come hither look over the shoulder. this is my chance.  whoops. missed it.

one time i went sledding and pulled my groin so baldy i peed in my pants. snow pants, that is. thank goodness jonathan banfield was there to pull me back to my dorm in the sled. i should have stretched beforehand.