Doctor's Visit!

So awhile back I had a rash that resembled the dreaded mark of a deer tick. By the time I had it checked out, it was already gone. The doctor agreed that the picture I had taken didn't look too lovely, and ordered me a Lyme's test. The test came back negative and I didn't think much about it. Pretty soon after, my niece was diagnosed with Lyme's and my mom kept urging to me get retested,especially considering my increase in naps and the fact that Lyme's isn't often detected for weeks.

Fast forward to me finally going back to the doctor's today. You know what the problem with me at the doctor's is? It doesn't matter if I have a serious infection or am going for my physical and am in top notch form; I always just kind of babble in a light-hearted way, and by babble I mean BABBLE. My mom is always saying I need to act more sick when sick or else no one will believe I am sick. Not that I feel too bad today, honestly (though my lunch did go right through me). Anyway, the babbling was in full effect today times infinite. As soon as the doctor apologized for being late, to which I replied, "oh isn't that what you guys do? It'd be weird if you weren't," I told the doctor about the bar I planned to get married in once I find a husband and about how my cat is overweight and how my niece and I had rolled down the same hill together so perhaps it is good I get retested even though it is probably nothing but then again who knows and have you had the breakfast sandwich at Ellie's Bakery? They have the best tomato jam situation.

Oh, and backtrack. When the doctor walked in

As I waited to go in for my blood test, a poor, hot mess of a woman wearing a Kid Rock shirt came and sat next to me in the waiting room. She started chatting. She looked terrible, meant in the nicest way possible. I told her I am sorry she didn't feel well. She replied something along the lines of "it's because of my ex, my stupid ex." And then proceeded to tell me how her ex cheated on her and she bought backstage tickets to Nickleback and they didn't go because of the cheating and yadayadayada. I wished her well and said she still should have gone to the concert (though, I think I'd have to be paid to go see them live).

Really liked the blood test administer lady. I said to her, "It's too bad about that woman and her ex. Exes, I tell ya." She rolled her eyes and said she heard all about that when the woman was in with her a minute before. I then proceeded to apologize to blood test administer lady because I cannot look at her while talking because she is too close to my arm and I may pass out. I then talked about my blue shampoo. So, my hairdresser recommended I use a blue or purple shampoo because I had my hair highlighted and it is supposed to decrease the brassy after-effects. The first time I used the shampoo, I was horrified when I looked down on my chest and saw blue sputtering everywhere; I was convinced I had developed 76 ungodly veins because I had worked out twice that day, and well, you know, that's never a good idea. Then I realized a few moments later it was just my shampoo and I felt better. Then the blood test administer lady told me that I am improving at blood test and I told her I think she is great and then I came home, and that is that.

Funeral Procession/Lunch/The Big Sick

I have to cross two lanes to get to my exit. There was a lot of traffic today so I was quite pleased with myself when I was able to get into the necessary lane. That was, of course, before I realized that I had cut into a funeral procession. I tried to shrink down in my seat but my intrusion was evidently apparent as a black long-sleeved arm appeared out of the window ahead of me, and proceeded to give me the longest middle finger ever.

Last week my friend and I ate lunch en plein air as one should in the summer. It wasn't until we were sitting outside that I realized that the place I worked the previous summer was directly across the street. Background information: I worked teaching English to middle school aged inner-city youth. The program was thrown together last minute. It was relatively chaotic. At one point, I kicked a kid out of the class for being horribly ignorant to which he replied that I was "racist" which made no sense to me because hello, I would have kicked the entire class out of that was the case. It was this experience that I also learned that "anonymous" surveys are not at all anonymous. When asked to fill out the "anonymous" survey at the end of the summer program, I filled out quite honestly. One question was: "Do you think you will work here again" to which I replied "definitely not". Well flash forward to this summer, and shocker, I didn't hear from the coordinator. I did, however, have him recognize my squeaky voice chatting away while I ate my lunch across from my former work site. He asked if I was working this summer; "Nope, well I didn't hear from you." He responded with, "Well did you reach out to us?" Me: "Nope, definitely not. Nice outfit." End scene.

Except the scene kept running just with other characters. For instance, this woman plops down a dvd in the bus stop bench in front of our table. A couple of minutes later, she got on the bus, forgetting her dvd. Enter a man in a hat who takes the dvd. My friend and I were like, what is up with this dvd. Ten minutes pass and the woman is back asking if we saw anyone take the dvd. Next thing you know, she is borrowing my phone. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, figures less than a month ago my phone was swallowed in mud, then I got it replaced, then cracked the screen, then got that replaced, and now it is in her hands. Oh well, I can probably out run her if worse comes to worse. And by probably, I mean definitely, well, except if my Larry Bird knee started acting a-fool.

Saw that movie "The Big Sick" with my friend tonight. We figured it would give us some hope in regards to the love department. Final verdict: not so much. While I am quite glad (read: mildly jealous) that it worked out for the couple in the film (which is based on a real story), the only chunk of wisdom that we parted with is the following: in order for a man to realize he is in love with you/miss you, you need to be in a coma. So, unless somehow I end up in a coma, it it is not looking so good for me (ha?).

Chiropractor and Pretty Little Liars!

The left side of my body started hurting around two years ago. This summer, I decided, enough is enough! I started my quest for equal body sides by googling "left side doctors". Well, somehow, nothing came up. I then decided, hey, chiropractor, what what. So, I did some research and discovered a chiropractor practice just minutes from my apartment. Of course, after two years of waiting, I decided my left side needed to be fixed IMMEDIATELY. My hurried nature resulted in me being too impatient on a Sunday to wait for a Monday to call the docs, and online booking an appointment. This would have made sense, until I later realized that I accidentally booked an appointment in California with a chiropractor that has a similar name to the one in Rhode Island. My health insurance is okay, but I don't think it would cover such costs. Anyway, my first trip to my local chiropractor coincided with my newest unhealthy habit: a Pretty Little Liars obsession. Okay if I was sixteen and still on my *NSYNC and Buffy the Vampire Slayer kick, this would be appropriate, but I am literally 32 so....Anway....A dear friend came and visited me in the beginning of July and in between riding scooter-coupes around and taking relaxing ferry rides, she introduced me to the show. All of a sudden, I did my first ever "binge watching" of a show. Well, that's a lie, I did binge watch every episode of Impractical Jokers (that's a whole other story). Pretty Little Liars sort of took over my life for a minute or so. I even started to get momentarily paranoid about life. For instance, in the story, one of the characters, Emily, went to get a massage and when her message therapist said she would be right back, "A" (think: stalker) ended up sneaking in and giving her a massage. Fast forward to me at the chiropractor for the first time and the chiro-man is like, "I'll be right back". I have no idea where he goes, but rest assured I looked up multiple times when he came back in and told me to "breathe in, breathe out"to make sure that he had not been replaced with an "A" character of my own. In that same episode of PLL, "A" had put steroids in Emily's pain ointment unbeknownst to her. You bet your fanny I was a little suspicious when my doctor handed me some Arnica gel to put on my left side. In the last two weeks, I have made the switch from the chiro-man who says he will be right back, to his associate. It has been a good change, but I am rather a nervous wreck while waiting to go in for my appointment, afraid of when chiro-man catches me cheating on him. The first time it happened, he came over to me and asked if I was ready for our appointment together. I hung my head in shame. I said I had already seen his associate today, I was so sorry. I went again this morning, very nervous again. As soon as he comes into the lobby, I loudly blurt "I'm cheating on you again! I'm sorry." then quickly avert my eyes. The guilt is too much. Meanwhile, chiro-lady has been very cool. She senses that I am a nervous person (shocker) and gives me little tips on breathing. Breathing is so difficult! Aaaand tomorrow I am going back to see chiro-man and chiro-lady's other associate to discuss nutrition. Wish me luck with that guilt!

Clean Sheets

I think I need a personal assistant. That, or I need to figure out how to get out of group texts on my phone. Or, no, basically I need a personal assistant. I cannot handle making plans with people.  I really never know what I am in the mood to do until the minute it is happening, for the most part. This has been a problem since I was old enough to make plans, throw group texts in the picture and I am like "how about I just stay in my pajamas and never leave my apartment instead?!" One of the group texts went on from 8:23 am to 11am just trying to figure out the day. I was beside myself.  There were so many group texts going on yesterday that yoga could not come fast enough.  The only thing I wanted was to do yoga and have clean sheets....

Okay, so sheets.

I like clean sheets. I change them once a week. I have laundry downstairs in my apartment but the other two tenants bought the machines and I am never exactly sure about using them so I usually do it at my parents' house when I visit.  Well, I was getting desperate on the sheet situation.  I love that freshly laundered scent! I really do! So, around mid-week I got out my lavender scented Lysol can and sprayed my sheets, figured it'd hold me over.  Despite the Lysol situation, I was still unsettled after another night.  So, I dropped them off at the laundromat to get cleaned as I went about my day.  The man asked how I was today. I mumbled, "Lysoled sheets, group texts, can't deal!" He told me he would try to help.

I left feeling better about life. I went to yoga.  My teacher asked how I was.  I naturally rambled more about sheets and group texts but talked about sheets being cleaned so maybe life is okay. Yoga helped.

I ate a lunch. I went for a walk. I did some work. I did some putzing.  I picked up my laundry. I did more putzing. I showered. I was all ready to make my bed with my clean sheets.  I went through my laundry bag. Where are my sheets?! WHERE ARE MY SHEETS?! Oh no! I looked on my messy bed....I never packed up my sheets to go to the laundromat.  I had taken them haphazardly off my bed and just left them in a crumpled pile.  I was not pleased.  I looked for more sheets. Yellow sheets, I have yellow sheets! Where are my yellow sheets? Oh, I can't find my yellow sheets! Okay, well flannel sheets. I have flannel sheets. This is not ideal for it was a 90 degree day and still rather steamy but hey when the going gets tough....I looked everywhere. I found my flannel pillowcases in a plastic bedding bag. Cheddar (cat) gets all up in the bag. Chaos ensues.  I have no sheets and my cat is suffocating himself in a plastic bag. I remove said cat. Thankfully, my cousin lives down the street and has an extra set I can borrow. I get to her house just as she's texting me:"Soooo the sheets have been in my closet....so they smell kind of funky." Of course they do. They did smell kind of funky but at it least it was a new funky.  Anyway, that guy at the laundromat really must have thought I had a few screws loose since I told him I needed my Lysoled sheets cleaned and I didn't actually include any sheets with my order.

In other news, Amazon Prime Deals Day was Wednesday.  I'm so excited that my toilet paper came in!!
 

Be One With the Water

I kid-sat my five-year old nice Amelia the other day. Miss A is basically the best, and I'm not just saying that because she is like a mini-me. There are many reasons why she's the bee's knees including: she takes break dancing lessons, can rap Biz Markie, loves cats, and wants to be a graffiti artist when she grows up. So, her and I were in my parents' hot tub chillen when she said she was going to try to dip her head under the water to conquer fear. Amelia said, and I quote, "I need to take a deep breath and become one with the water." She then proceeded to close her eyes and channel some chi. When she didn't make it quite under I asked her if she had been one with the water. Her response: "No, I was seaweed. I'm going to try to be one with the water again now." She also explained that Mylo angel (her recently deceased dog) was looking over her and wouldn't let her drown. Kids can be sweet.

Anyway.

I have pleasantly surprised myself by sleeping a couple of nights this week. There have also been some dreams involved.

Dream 1
I am running late to work and arrive during an armed intruder drill so everyone is outside, including David Spade. David Spade was in subbing for a teacher and I looked at him and was full of legit contempt. David Spade wore a purple velour tracksuit. Also, it was snowing outside and that made me really angry.

Dream 2
I decided I needed a new Celtics shirt and went to the Prudential Center in Boston. I kept being drawn to green velvet jackets. This was basically the entirety of my dream, me searching for, finding, and falling in love with a green velvet jacket.

Dream 3
I tell someone to "wipe that face off their head." That was literally the entire dream. I woke and looked in the mirror and there was a dent in my face from sleeping.

Well, that is it for now. I actually have quite a lot to blog about regarding visiting a retirement community in Florida aka living the dream. I'll need an entire afternoon for that one. God speed, people!

Well, it's Saturday!

I just found out that three of my co-workers are pregnant. My response: "Wow, congratulations! Jesus the biggest news I have is that my cat has his own instagram.  Yeah, I went to work the other day and came home and Cheddarcatrocks was all setup on insta." And...I'm serious. Follow the orange fuzzball!

Today I took my Gma shopping to her mecca, Macy's.  She made me go INTO the dressing room WITH HER. Sure, this is my spring break, but I didn't really want to see any topless ladies! During the excursion, This Is Tonight by Amber and a Mandy Moore song came on. Flashback much.

Anyway, speaking of vacation, Tuesday I'm off to the Villages, a retirement hotspot in Florida. I'm pretty stoked that I'll get to go out dancing and still be in bed at 10pm. I'm seriously looking into opening a club that runs business between 4pm and 10pm, because there are little options for those who enjoy getting low as much as they enjoy getting zzzs.

The other day a man wearing a huge Native American head dress biked by me.  It was a lovely piece, but it was so large I was legit worried he'd topple over. Sending positive vibes to that man.

The end.

Peaches and Cowflaps!

As I sit here, snow pounding outside, on ya know, April 4th, I think: life cannot be all peaches, but that doesn't mean we can't eat any peaches! I am going to continue to eat peaches, damn it! Peachy keen!

Any of you who have read my blog before or who know me personally, probably have inferred that my life can be pretty ridiculous.  I mean; accused of grand larceny, cab drivers playing the flute WHILE driving me, cats getting buried and then dug up--none of this is exactly normal. Yet, usually I am (appear anyway) happy.  I figure, it's just life.  Though, honestly, sometimes behind closed doors I would cry a lot and not want to leave my bed.  Hey, it happens.

My life started going semi-smooth this past fall.  I upped my yoga game,  I cut-down on the thinking, I read the super life-changing book "You are a Badass" by Jen Sincero.  I made the best vision board featuring the dapper and handsome James Marsden.  I started going from semi-faking it to totally making it.  By January 2016 life was at an all time smooth, non-chunky PB style.  I was absolutely killing it! I did a 30 day yoga challenge at Providence Power Yoga which basically sealed the deal on my smooth criminal status.  I got good at putting myself first; saying no I couldn't possibly do this or that, I've got yoga, yo! I also felt super chill and emotionally non-hot-mess and ya know, pretty svelte too.  February rolled in and I was like WHAT WHAAAAAAT KILLING IT!

Then, March hit.  It has always been my least favorite month.  It makes me question why I live in New England (more than usual).  I always get sick in March.  Some kind of cowflap always hits the fan.  Every. Single. March.  This March at least started off pretty bearable; I secured a preschool teacher position for next year, the weather was not too icky, I was not sick, I was/am talking to a nice boy.  Then ya know, end of March comes.  The weather turns! I'm sick! I'm pounding an ungodly amount of chocolate every day! Cowflaps hitting fans!!!!! And now it is April and it is snowing.  Yet, somehow I am still feeling pretty fine.  In the past, the ick of it all; weather, cowflaps, sickness, od-ing on chocolate=aaah, life???? But now, I have finally come to the point where I have learned to dust that snow off my car, buy some yellow flowers to mask the rancid cowflaps, pop a lozenge, throw my hands up, and say, "the heck with it!" Life is too great to let some flaps of cows get in the way.  Even when it is less than peachy, I will still find me some peaches!

James Marsden Vision Board

A couple of weeks ago, cowflap really hit the fan with my guy "friend".  He called me lots of horrendous names and got in my face and such, definitely a no bueno.  I have since come to peace with the situation.  I am not mad at him or really mad/sad in general anymore.  What I am is empowered.  When cowflap REALLY hits the fan, it is a most excellent wake up call.  I realized that for some reason, I really do not value myself.  I have dated guy after guy who has been less than nice and gone through some SERIOUS wtf life situations in general (being threatened, accused of grand larceny, etc), and when it comes down to it, the reason any of this is happening is because I allow it to.  I see the good in everyone and want the best for everyone, which sounds lovely and wishy washy, and it would be, except that I devalue myself in the process.  I have come to realize that even if people have issues and I want to see the good in them, that does not mean that I have to help them to a point that I am hurt, or put up with certain situations, or think that I am not good enough because others put me down or whatever.  That is their issue, not mine.  So, now I am on this super awesome life kick where I truly value and take care of myself.  I feel like a million bucks! I have also made a vision board with positive quotes, the characteristics that I would like in a partner man, and life goals.  I decided that I would print out a picture of James Marsden too, because heck, if I attracted a super sweet, respectful, funny guy who resembles James Marsden, then that wouldn't be so bad.  Unfortunately, the black ink in my printer has run out, so it looks like for now, I will be attracting a white-haired ghost version of James.  Still, not bad! In other news, I have seen 3, count them THREE, attractive guys in my 'hood in the last 24 hours.  I am both shocked and pleased by this.  Yesterday I saw a guy walking in the park with two friends.  It was quite evident that he worked out, which I dig, especially because I like to take good care of myself.  Plus, he has at least two friends! My God, if he had a job too, holy cow...Today, I was looking out the window and saw an attractive guy run by so I put on my running clothes and tried to find him.  Unfortunately, I did not see him out there, but did run by another good looking dude who was also running.  This guy squinted at me.  I got a squint! Anyway, good people, take care of yourselves, let people treat you well, and go chasing after the people who seem chase worthy....well, only literal chasing,  I feel that there should not be too much chasing in the dating life.....

Badassery!

Hi folks!

I read this self-help (yeah, yeah) book this past week called "You are a Badass. How to Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Start Living an Awesome Life." and I gotta tell ya, it's totally working.  So, either you know me, or you don't, but chances are, I come across pretty positive-proton-awesome in my writing. That's because I like to spread cheer and whatnot! The problem is, often I spread a lot of positivity onto others and then go all Negative Nancy on myself. How does this make any sense?! Well, it doesn't.  And I have decided to stop, damn it! I am currently on this crazy train where I have stopped second guessing myself and have instead started to give myself some credit on how awesome I am.  It is a wonderful feeling.  If you are hard on yourself, I suggest you read this book, and well, just try and be kinder to yourself. You deserve it!

There is a lot of negativity in this world.  It is so easy to get sucked in! Tired! Broke! Hate job! Terrible love life! The list goes on! But, there is also so much to be thankful for! Fo sheezy.  I have started to watch the way I think because as the good ol' people say, your thoughts become your words which in turn, become your actions, and so on.  I have always been one to give stellar advice to others, but then to question every single thing I say and do.  It's preposterous! No more! Also, I am trying to steer clear of words like "I want," "I hope," and "I wish".  The reason being when you "wish" for something, for example, it adds a negative connotation, like what you want is something that needs to be wished for, not something that can happen in actuality.  I'm not wishing for anything anymore.  I am just certain shiz is good and will continue to get better.  Try it out, peeps!

As mentioned there is a lot of negativity out there and it is easy to get sucked in.  Sometimes you want to talk to a sir or madame who is nonjudgmental.  This is why I occasionally hit up a counselor and tell her of my life stories.  Yesterday, I was babbling away about my love life, and she stopped me in the middle to tell me that she felt that she was watching a stand-up monologue. Yes, people the "love" life is one of tragedy, but in it, also comedy, because you gotta find the humor in all of the muck! So much muck you'd think I was a pig rolling around in dirt, I tell ya!

So, I decided to cancel my National Credit Report account because I am trying to pay off my credit card, and a monthly $15 fee is not helping.  The lady on the phone was the best.  I want to be her friend.  She lives in Pittsburgh.  She loves snow because there are no bugs, and ya know, I am more of a summer gal, but I had to agree with her on this one.  She has a beta fish.  She does not like dogs, but she likes cats, and thinks my cat sounds really cute.  Her cousin lives in Massachusetts but she has never been, but she would like to visit.  Unfortunately, I was so into our conversation that I naturally pressed a button accidentally and hung up on her.  I did call back and connect with a Lisa.  I told Lisa that I have short term memory and already forgot the name of the lovely person I was chatting with but could she please tell her I said goodbye.  Oh, Lisa was very nice too. And I canceled that fee, holla! Moral of the story: talk to people! Except if they are negative.  Then punch them in the throat! Jokes....

Oh, so I am working with kids who speak no English.  I figured out that the key is to teach them the word "yes" because then I can say, "Do you think I am awesome?" and "Am I your favorite teacher?" and all that and they always say YES! Great feelings!

Okay, go out there and be the badasses I know you can be!!!

Chipotle and bad things happening in 3

I'm live blogging from Chipotle. I have a burrito bowl obsession. I used to go four days a week....right after yoga. I have since weaned my way down to once every other week. Still, I'm there now. And this is why. I have been feeling very content with life lately. I've had my share of ups and downs and I have been maintaining. Just a couple of years ago I was living at home, feeling like a failure, and crying on the regs. Since then, I got my masters, have been making strides at work, started eating Chipotle, and pet my cat in my sweet apartment.  I had even made a guy friend or whatever.  I say or whatever because that seems more accurate of a term. I came very close to securing a dream job last week. I was getting closer with "or whatever". I was feeling pretty swell. Then poof, unraveling left and right.  I decided to at least start being vocal about stuff instead of my usual people pleasing pushover self. So I am proud of this. Trying to get myself in the best possible place at work, expressing feelings to "or whatever," and making an appointment with a specialist because my Celiacs is acting a-fool. I even made an appointment with my counselor for a tune-up. During my counseling sesh, my counselor tells me that she read that all Chipotles are closing. I LOST MY SHIT.  I said, "It always happens in threes! Job, guy, Chipotle.  I cannot deal." I left the office and went straight to Chipotle where I proceeded to tell the worker how in counseling,  I heard that all Chipotles are closing and that I cannot deal with life. The worker assured me that this was in fact a hoax. And thank god cuz I don't know how I'm supposed to deal with my life without my burrito bowls.

Priest Pants.

To say that I have been slacking on this Bad Larry is basically the understatement of the year. I am not really sure where I have been for the last couple of months, but I think I'm back?!

Well, and to be fair, I know where I was from July 8th-18th: Iceland and Paris. Bam! Yeah sure, I'll tell you all about it, though of course most likely in an out-of-sequence order and in complete ramble form. You know how I roll.

Before I get started, please take note of what I am working with computer-wise:

Yes, the giant, growing red slash is really great for the eyes. Nope. I have an old computer from my dad that I tried to restart, but it is also feeling "critical". C'est la vie.

Anyway, back to my out-of-sequence events!

So, I went to Iceland for my pal Cassie's wedding to her dude Phil.  

This is Cassie and Phil on our honeymoon (stories to come) in Paris:

So much joy as you can see! Now they wouldn't have gotten to this point of marital flight if they didn't have a dude to marry them. Please see photo below:

The ceremony was tres beautiful and I'll go into details regarding it at a later point.  But first, to the basics.  The priest, Petur, was a cool dude. When Phil would get misty as he is quite aware that he warmed Cassie's self-described "cold heart," and that they are sealing the deal, Petur would tell him to relax and to let loose. None of that misty business allowed! 

These are Petur's pants:

Please excuse the poor quality of the photo. I was trying to be sly in capturing the purpley leopard pantaloons.  Since I had the great responsibility of signing as witness (or something...what exactly did I sign??!!), Petur and I ended up chatting. There was lots of handshaking and for some reason he was thanking me, even though I did diddly squat.  Petur then insisted on exchanging phone numbers. Evidently he is not on the Facebook. Ten minutes of him trying to call me as I stood there and him typing me messages in front of me went down.  He then offered to have me stay at his apartment when I was back in Reykjavik the following two nights. Nice dude, that Petur.

The next day I was greeted with a few paragraphs of texts from the fashionable priest man.  Highlights include: "U like 2 stay at my little apartment so u save some for the wool with pattern ;)" and "And then you could host me in the U$A??" I ended up passing up on his offer; crashed illegally on a hotel couch one night and hung out with a ghost hunter and listened to a dude talk about how we are all "one" the next (more to come on these). 

For now, I will leave by saying that I am not sure that I am ready to be back from my great adventures.  However, I am happy to be able to listen to "The Gentle Touch" on WBRU, and to pet my cat, duh.  "The Gentle Touch" is pulling out all the jams! Raspberry! Blackberry! So much hairbrush belting is going down right now...

Anyway, more to come. Stay classy, people!

#587,345,234,096 of what is my life right now/ever?!

So, I had to call a cab company this morning so I could get to the train station and get up to Boston for my graduation  ceremony.  I called  a few companies, and finally  get through to a dude.  I went outside to wait, the van pulls around the corner and I get  in. So far, so good.  Dude gets on the highway,  not my first choice, but it's  doable. After a few minutes, it becomes evident that we are  not going to the train station.  Meanwhile, both van dude's phone and my phone are blowing  up all of a sudden. Evidently, a girl in the next apartment  over from mine called  for a car service at the exact  same time that I had, and I stole her van man. What strikes me is the fact that my street is like three feet  long. Seriously,  what are the chances?! Anyway, my neighbor lady is freaking  out and the other cab dude  keeps calling  and yelling at me. It's not even 6:15 am people.  I finally get to the train, and some dude from match.com is sitting across from me. I get up and move.  I literally  cannot deal with  that right  now either. 

Anyway. While this doesn't even come close to  my strangest cab experiences (man playing a flute while driving  me prob  tops the list), it certainly was a great wtf to start my day.

KILLING IT.

So, I've been pretty much non killing it for the last three months to five years.  Here's the reasoning: I mean, life.  Dude, it's exhausting being alive.  One has got to work and go to school and talk to people.  How does one maintain??

Well, today, I had a good day, Ice Cube style.

For one, I killed it at work.  I was all teaching like whoa and not sweating the small stuff.

Then, I did super adult stuff.  For instance,I  actually tackled my to-do list. It's been the same to-do list for the entire winter, rewritten in multiple notebooks, and consistently looming over my head.  Fun stuff---figure out student loans, reschedule physical appointment, file a claim of sorts. Done. Done. Done. Granted, taxes, a whole other story... And well, by figuring out student loans, that basically means I called a bunch of peeps up and told them I had no idea what I did when I previously pulled an adult and consolidated.  Still, progress.

Next up, yoga.  While there seems to be a lack of hot guys lately, I am dealing by not being terrible at my practice all of a sudden.  It's like bam! Wheel, got this. Camel, holla. And, Boy George, finally nailed that crow.  And today, my instructor held my feet up and I did a headstand and while it kind of hurt my head and I needed assisting, what a rush, I tell ya. Good stuff.

Then, I came home, and do you know what I did? I ate adult food, like chicken and spinach, and I made a killer mixed cd for cruising to work (entitled: Get it right. Get it tight). To top it off, I made bacon so I can have a bacon and avocado something at some point tomorrow.

Part of the reason that I am (hopefully) emerging from the winter funk for the rest of the year, is that not only do I have good peeps in my corner, but I'm cheerleading myself like a crazy. There has been a definite increase in singing aloud in public assuring myself that it's just life, no biggie smalls. It's working people.  So, even if you look a little nutter butters because you're singing "you got this. what what what" in public, I totally recommend it and assure you that it is worth the what-are-you-on-right-now looks.

Plus, it's almost summer and it will be a breezy 80 degrees and life will be so splendid.

As usual, this was pretty pointless.

Belated Condolence Cards?

Earlier I wrote a post about my two wonderings of the day: 1. a question regarding a Coolio lyric and 2. am I moving my arms enough while walking?

A third thought has now entered my mind:

3. So, I'm into greeting cards.  They are a dying form of communication.  I often buy them, but the reality of me actually sending them is another matter.  A couple of posts ago I wrote about a shark valentine.  I cannot send it currently because I don't have a boyfriend and randomly sending it to anyone else would be pretty creepy.  I have a few more random and equally awesome cards stored away, waiting for the right moment.  Now, here's the thing.  When sending a card, you need a. a recipient b. a stamp and c. to mail it.  I often have a combo of the two but generally not at the same time. Sometimes I get to the c. (mailing it) part and nothing happens.  I just can't make it to c.  The problem with this is, so yeah, a belated birthday card---acceptable, within reason.  I'm usually out of reason in that I send the card that I bought before your birthday around 5 months after your birthday, but still, it's sort of acceptable.   Right now, I have some hey you're having a baby, thinking of you, and condolence cards to mail out, all of which should have been mailed out 1-2 weeks ago.  Okay, so hey you're having a baby I can probably get away with not sending for a couple of more months, ya know, until the baby actually happens.  But condolence cards? How can you send a belated condolence card? It's like sorry your boyfriend broke up with you 3 months ago. Sorry your pet died 8 months ago.  I really need to buy stamps tomorrow or else I'm essentially going to be mailing dear friends a lot of miserable memories.  Ah!

And that was my third thought of the day. Back to practicing the worm. I think I am actually getting it!

Gangsta's Paradise

The snow is making me legit stir crazy.  I need to run 10 miles outside immediately or I'm going to lose it.  Since that is not actually a possibility right now, I am settling by practicing the worm, with the strobe light disco ball on, and blasting hip hop music.  This post right here, it is literally just a commercial break from the worm.

Speaking of hip hop music, I keep wondering about a line in Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise".  Fun Fact: I did a jazz routine this song when I was 9ish.  Anyway.  In the song, he goes, "I'm 23 now, but will I live to see 24.  The way things are going I don't know."  I always wonder: was he really 23 when he wrote this song? I tried doing math today and I think he would have been more like 30 something, but maybe he was talking about when he actually wrote the song? Or maybe he is just being all metaphorical? Is it weird that this is what is going on in my head? Kind of a lot too? Like I've thought about this numerous times in my life.

I had one other thought today (slow thought day).  I was walking down the street and was wondering if I was moving my arms enough.  I think they move at a normal pace generally, but with winter and sleeping bag coats, I feel like stiffness or something creeps in, and then I am reminded of the Summer of George Seinfeld episode where Elaine's co-worker (Molly Shannon) doesn't move her arms enough.  

Yoga/Valentine's Day/Role Models.

Yoga class update: original good looking fella has a girlfriend. No, I am not above straight up asking the yoga teacher the status of dudes in class.  There is a another gent in class who has a nice face. I am not getting my hopes up though.  It seems that straight + single are hard to find in the middle of an up-dog so I'm not wasting my time.

Though, single dudes: what are you thinking?! Yoga is the perfect place to go to meet ladies. They are all wearing tight pants.  I don't get it.

Speaking of singledom, I am actually totally fine with being single on Valentine's Day.  I think I'd rather have a boyfriend during the 4th of July anyways.  Though, today I did buy a nice greeting card I would like to send someone some day.

Who wouldn't love to receive this gem in the mail?! So, yes, that is the reason I think a boyfriend on Valentine's Day would be nice: shark cards.

And here is why being a teacher is nice:

Q: Who is your role model?

A: Miss. F. because she is great at everything.

You hear that? Miss F. aka Killah K is GREAT AT EVERYTHING.

And you know, kids only tell the truth so....

In other news, I passed a cemetery the other day and swear a large tombstone read FATSY on it.  My friend suggested that maybe it actually read PATSY??

And in weather news, I'm really hoping that March goes straight-up into lamb. None of that lion business.

Overheard/Groundhog's Day/Patriots/Winter

Recently Overheard, Children to Adults:

1. Can I ask you something serious though? Do you believe in the legend of Hercules?
2. You definitely don't want to eat a blow-up fish.

Groundhog's Day

A national treasure. Prior to when the big day hit, I was discussing it with one of my students.  I asked him if he knew what a groundhog looked like, which led to the discussion of what the difference was between groundhogs, beavers, and woodchucks. Is there a difference? Are they all the same? And then I felt bad because it is sort of a racist thing to say.  Obviously not all large rodents look the same.

I had a snow day on actual Groundhog's Day and spent it watching Groundhog's Day, naturally.  That movie is spectacular, but also feels pretty real life these days. For instance, I literally have had no idea what day it is at all for the last two weeks.  Well, I guess that is kind of the opposite of Groundhog's Day though, considering that Mr. Bill Murray is very aware of what the date is.

Anyway, this happened on Groundhog's Day, real life: Groundhog bites mayor. I can't say I blame the little fellow.  Being rudely awoken at an ungodly hour is pretty not cool.

Dates

I was talking to my high school student today about dates, as in numerical today is blah blah blah kind of dates and somehow the following came from my mouth: "There are three kinds of dates. Dates, food, dates, like today is, and dates as in let's go to the movies. Which date do you like the most? I like dates, the food the best."

She told me that that was a really weird thing to say.

The Patriots

Okay, not going to lie, I am one of those New England Patriots fans, sue me.  The Super Bowl basically gave me a full-on anxiety attack.  It was when I decided to do sprints from the living room down the hall and back that they started to improve so I then found myself sprinting between plays for the majority of the second half.  I get annoyed when people hate on the Patriots, but have learned to take it in stride.  This is not about being a fan or not, but really about the deeper issues of a.) haters gonna hate b.) jealousy is a mean ol' mofo and c.) sometimes it is best to keep the talk to the minimum.  I am just going to lightly touch upon a. and b. Okay, there are a lot of peeps who may seem like they have it all and you may want to find fault with them, but maybe they actually worked hard for it ? Maybe because they worked hard it doesn't mean they are actually bad people? It doesn't actually mean they are good people either.  It just doesn't mean peeps gotta act a fool as a result.  C. is my favorite though.  Bill Belichick is often regarded as totes the worst for his one line answers, but honestly, one liners are something that I would like to get more into.  Well, one liners I have, but then they are usually followed by 5 paragraphs of nonsense.  Sometimes, the less said, the better (as I continue to write more about nothing...see!).

Winter

I don't understand what is happening outside.  Sure, I grew up in New England and all that jazz, but I still don't get it.  I see people running outside.  I ran outside on New Years Eve and nearly froze my jiblets off. Mid-run, I wondered to myself, why am I running outside when it is literally freezing and going to hot yoga in the summer? Something is very wrong here.  So, I wised up and have been hot yoga-ing like a mofo and steering clear of outside jogs.  Until yesterday, aka super cold day, where I decided a run needed to happen.  So, I got all layered up.  My winter running attire is atrocious.  I basically look crazy, but it is dark out and no one can see me anyways so who cares. So, I'm outside, and immediately my Raynaud's start acting up.  For those of you who don't know, Raynaud's is a lovely ditty where one's hands and feet start turning really strange colors and get all prickly in the cold. That's happening but I am determined.  I am holding onto the sides of houses to prevent myself from falling. I can hardly not fall when there is no ice, with ice, it is really not pretty. I finally get to the park.  Duh. It's not cleared at all. It is sheets of ice and snow. All in all, I walked like .7 miles in 20 minutes because inching along is basically all I could handle.  I tried walking today, and once again, nearly froze and slipped to my death en route. I have seen people running though! I have seen them! I drive by them. How do they do it?! I do not understand! Speaking of driving, dude, if I can barely handle driving in perfect weather, driving on sheets of ice in snow is basically complete terrible town.  Though, every time I drive and not get into an accident, and walk and not fall down, I get really proud of myself. So, I guess really, winter is building my self-esteem or something.

The end?

This is literally about nothing.

Conversation that happened ten minutes ago:

Me: I hate snow, man. Man...and men. Snowmen I am okay with. That's weird.

And no, I don't actually hate men. They're great!  To be all metaphorical and shiz, however, if men were snow, I am consistently finding the kind my neighbor's dog has already peed on.

Conversation was followed by this:

 That moment when you dump an entire container of rosemary onto your chicken.

This moment just comes days after this:

 The moment when you microwave your lunch in plastic.  The toxins really added a bit of punch to the flavor. True story.

And here, for your viewing pleasure, cat in a box:

Married Cousins.

The other day one of my students was talking about her parents.  I asked her how they met.  She casually said, "they were cousins." Then her face changed as reality sunk in. "THEY WERE COUSINS? COUSINS? IS THAT OKAY?!" she repeated for literally three minutes.  I responded with, "Yeah, totally fine. I mean, not having cousins makes dating really hard these days."

True story.

She went on.  "There's so much crying?"
Me: "Crying? Who's crying?"
Student: "I don't know. Everyone is crying. They can't find anyone to date and they cry. It's like, you've got ten years, then you can start worrying." You know, until you're like 21, she is basically saying.

I found this all to be quite funny.

Anyway. I'm completely over winter/boys/ACCESS test (standard mandatory blahs that I have to administer).

This one dude I saw on Tinder totally used the pics of a famous Polish actor and claimed to be him.  Took me like a day to figure it out. Should have taken me no time because there are literally no guys that attractive in the New England region. Shocking though, hot Polish guys?! I lived in a very Polish neighborhood and there were no hot guys there.

Winter is the worst. It takes me ten minutes to walk one feet.

People are the second worst.

Testing is lame.

I am going to go shop for a palm tree now.

Fender Bender Nixon.

Driving...

Ah. I was getting so good at it.

I was almost at the point where I'd occasionally have only one hand on the wheel.

The point where I was almost glad I traded in the cold walks to the subway with the scraping of the car windows.

The point where I could actually handle switching lanes.  

And then it happened: Backing out of my driveway, I somehow managed to hit a sign in my actual driveway. I was backing out, yes, but somehow the fender got stuck and well, bad news bears. Welcome to my life. Naturally, I was on my way to yoga. This is basically the opposite of yoga.  The deep breathing and all that must be paying off however because I wasn't even stressed! Not at all. The one teeny minute of WHAT?! came in as my dad called me as I was talking to my mom on the phone (they were in the same room), and then the auto-dude beeped in, but I recovered quickly from all the beeps and whatnot.  It also became a great opportunity for neighborly bonding as my neighbors Will and John forged together to take off the remaining part of my fender.  Good times.  And while I am not super pleased with the idea that my little funds will be going towards this instead of a road trip or whatnot, driving around fenderless will be sort of badass. I mean, why do I need to go anywhere during February break when I can re-watch Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee and eat burritos from the comfort of my own living room?!  Ideally, I would be able to get the same color in the fender replacement, but part of me would be okay with the fender being metallic gold or hot pink just for the ridiculous factor.

Speaking of Presidents Day, my friend was telling me about her second annual Prez shindig that she is throwing (which I wanted to go to, but since it is in NYC and I am officially broker, will probably have to pass). So, anyway.  The shindig, evidently it is great fun, but I suggested that perhaps dressing as a president should probably also happen?! And then, without warning, my mind flashed back to 7th grade when I read Nixon's memoirs and presented them to the class via Nixon sock puppet.  And then it hit me: I emphasized with Nixon because I felt that he must truly, really be sorry, this is what my sweet 7th grade self thought. But here's the thing, just because you think someone may be sorry for Watergate, doesn't mean they need you to make a sock puppet out of them. What I'm trying to say is that you can forgive peeps for acting a-fool but you don't have to play into it; you don't have to be Nixonized.  Did any of this make sense to anyone besides me?! Also, who reads Nixon's memoirs in 7th grade? Also, I am a liberal lady.

And that is all, Time to eat.

Post food revelation: I don't think I actually care about this fender loss/having to spend money on a new fender because I think I have officially given my last shiiiiiiiiiitz in general on stuff. It's a pretty wonderful feeling.  And now that I ate a burrito bowl and some brownies, I am going to make the worst decision of the day: yoga attempt #2. I really don't think one should go immediately after such meals....But as aforementioned, I could really care less!!!