Midday Update: People are dumb.

So I just found out that last night my boss locked someone in the store.

We always close at six and it's not like we shut off the lights then haul ass. There is a process, shutting down registers, locking up, putting away the money etc.

Well apparently this was all done, but someone was crouched down in the books and it didnt occur to them that the store was closed when the music was shut off and the lights were off.

She apparently was virtuous though, because after she realised that she was locked in and let herself out (thusly setting off the alarms) stayed put to explain to the groundskeeping head (a real ruler-slapper nun named Sister Georgeann) what had happened.

They called the alarm company to say that all was well and an accident, but the alarm company said "Oh well, we didn't call the police, we called the fire department and they are on their way."

Which doesn't make sense, as it was a burglar alarm, but whatevs.

So she goes outside and sees not one, but THREE fire trucks pulling up with the firefighters getting out with axes in hand.

Axes! Wow!

I told my boss I was super glad I wasn't the one who closed up last night. HA!

Since when is a drain a toilet?

Last night before I went to bed, I noticed that the toilet was really running pretty loudly. This has been a progressive issue for a few weeks now but was shunted to the side last week when a pipe burst in between the kitchen and the bathroom and the wall had to be sort of torn down.

Anyhoo, so I woke up this morning and knew something was amiss. Then I heard it: even with my space heater on, I could hear water running in the bathroom.

I groggily rolled out of bed and shuffled across the hall and stepped into very chilly water. The bathroom was flooded, as the toilet seemed to be leaking from all of it's joints.

Stupidly, I started to lift up the lid on the back and got hit in the face with a JET of water shooting out from the top. I managed to get the lid back down and fumbled with the water shut off valve, which mercifully quelled the water. I gave the toilet the flush, which turned out to be the last flush for awhile, because I needed to get the water level down in the tank.

As I don't know the "technical" terms for plumbing, I'll just try to explain it as best I can. The bobber thing (which I had already tried to fix awhile ago) had popped off of the tall bit and I couldn't get it to stay back on. Then, I noticed that the joint thinger at the bottom of the toilet was leaking like crazy too and I said "Yo. Out of my control." Which you KNOW is impressive if I wash my hands of it... if I could have fixed it, I would have tried... as I am indeed MacGyver and would have fashioned something out of kitten whiskers, a sharpie and a curtain rod if I could have.

But, as it proved too much for this girl, I mopped up as much as I could, all while cursing the freezing water and the fact that for the 4th time this week I was going to be later for work. I went and woke up Eric and I was like, you have to deal with this! Get up NOW. CALL THE MAITENANCE GUY. GOOD MORNING.

So you know what basically went down at work thanks to the midday post, but I had messaged Eric and was like sooooo, should I go to the bathroom at work? And apparently there was some sort of propane leak at another apartment (yeah right) so we are sans toilet until tomorrow.

We almost had a crisis though... I almost had some tea and if there is one thing that will make you have to go, that is it.

The boys, they were some straight up troopers though. Tom wandered over to the gas station to make and Eric called the maiteneance guy again and said, "Look, you guys have got to get over here... they are sick of having me go to the gas station to poop. I like to be by my home base you know?" Laying it out on the line, eh? I said, nothing like channeling your inner Kramer.

I personally am doing okay, we'll see how tomorrow morning goes with the lack of toilet, but if all else fails, I'll just stop at McD's for some brekkie and a little pee parlor.

Tom did tell me that he couldnt take it and went in the shower and I said, well, it's all pipes what's the difference (channeling my inner Costanza), it all goes to the sewer anyways, you gotta do what you gotta do.

What a fucking shitbox I live in. Fortunately, I love the boys and I love the fact that I finally am upgrading to the bigger room, but seriously, if it's not one thing it's another.

Madre de dios!

Cheers, may my bladder hold out until 8 am.

Midday update: ANGRY!

I just sent this to Amanda, and because it was so eloquently written, I just decided to post it in it's entirety here:

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I totally just got my ass handed to me by this psycho woman.

She comes in all the time reeking of cigarettes and she always ALWAYS is carrying a 2 liter bottle of coke. She is like, 55, and apparently is a graphic design major (which is laughable, as she clearly has no style at all... she sports the open, button down chambray shirt over a screened tshirt of some kind [generally with either a patriotic theme or, better yet, a kitten and a ball of yarn] and ill fitting mom-jeans and [wait for it] Mickey Mouse baseball cap over insane, scraggly hair and GIANT glasses).

I am always very polite to her when she comes in and I happen to be up at the front. I am almost never behind the register as I have too much shit to do, but from time to time, I am there as she comes in with her coke in hand, looking to buy candy.

So, as I was running hella late today, I threw on my nice dark jeans from the Gap and a black fitted turtleneck, threw on my red kicks, put my hair in a ponytail and ran out the door.

I was just coming back from the bathroom and going back into the store when she was walking in. I said "Hello!" very sunnily and smiled as I opened the door and as she walked past, she said:

"It's nice to see you covered up for a change."

OH HELL NO YOU DID NOT JUST GO THERE.

I laughed like "ahahahahahah." because at first, I thought she meant she was glad to see me bundled up as it was cold out, right? But then I was like, HEY WAIT A SECOND. FUCK YOU.

I am especially irritated because I make it a POINT to keep the ladies demure. I work at a fucking catholic school with NUNS. I don't bear all... there aren't even guys here to impress even if I WANTED to.

I think she is going to be shanked the next time she comes in. Prepare to feel my wrath.


------

FIN.

Well, the other shoe has dropped.

what my cells look like...
... and what my cells SHOULD look like...



So I really should have kept my mouth shut.

I really REALLY should have kept my mouth shut.

I had to go and complain about nothing going on in my life and then... motza ball.

A warning. We are going to dive into the "too much info" realm, so if you are at all squeamish about hearing about medical maladies involving the OB-GYN I suggest you close this window immediately and return tomorrow.

Sigh.

So two weeks ago I went to the OB-GYN for my annual "well woman" exam. All in all, it went really, really well. My cholesterol was down to normal levels (I had been on Accutane which made it skyrocket), my blood sugar was back to normal, as was my blood pressure (I have PCOS which is this hellish disease that fucks up everything... more on that later) and I have lost weight and I have been really good about taking my folic acid to promote good womanly health...

Maybe I should back this train up a little bit and explain the background info. I have PCOS which is PolyCystic Ovarian Syndrome, which is basically that I get cysts on my ovaries, which then in turn affect every. single. one. of my major body systems. Endocrine? Check. Digestive? Check. Reproductive? Check. Circulatory? Check. And the list goes on and on. Well, I knew something was up because I went off my birth control because I got a new kind and as of this evening, still have not experienced the joy of my period... since September. Now, I know you are thinking, "Hey! Are you sure you aren't pregnant?" And the answer is pregnancy requires sex... ahahahahahahahahahaha.

So I went to the OBGYN to see what was going on.

Not only did he spend the entire "exam" talking about Michael, but I had to get a "smear" which is very nearly the most awful thing in the world.

When the nurse called me a few days ago, I didn't think anything of it. I thought she wanted to change my appointment or something.

I talked to her today and lo: my pap came back abnormal. Apparently, I have "Atypical Squamous Cells" and need to undergo a "colposcopy" which is like a super cervix magnification journey of fun.

There is a small chance that these cells are pre-cancerous.

Most likely, it is something minor to nothing at all. My mom underwent kind of the same thing when she was 30, after I was born. She ended up having a hysterectomy (and explains why I am an only child), but that is so unlikely. I am just going to have to watch what's going on.

So we'll have to see what happens. I was totally jazzed that for ONCE I was marked as healthy at the OBGYN and lo: this happened. I go in for my "colposcopy" on the 17th. Arrgh.

And the other good news: I now get to have more frequent paps... I thought maybe, every 6 months? No no no... try every 2-3. Fuck.

I should never had said my life was uninteresting.

Cheers.

Hey! I can't help being fine!

I woke up soooo late today.

I was so tired last night that I forgot to set my alarm and woke up like, an hour and a half late. Man, that is SO annoying! Of course, I called my boss to let her know, and then proceeded to sit down and check my email and facebook... because you can't rush into anything, you know?

I feel that more stuff went on today, but as I am sitting here trying to be clever, I am having a hard time remembering anything. I was thinking about my xanga and remembering how on top of things I used to be... there was always something happening and now? Nothing! I gotta get some sort of action going on!

Let's see... Bears are in the Super Bowl, that's pretty exciting... I think I am going to go hang out with the Crew (Paul, Kevin, Zach, Jay and all of their respective girls) at Danny Palms. It's 35 bucks but all you can eat/drink and there will be much frivolity.

Jackie gave me a pair of pants the other night that I guess Michelle gave her awhile back and Jackie didn't like. So last night I tried them on, and I don't think it was possible to have a more unattractive pair of pants. They were slim cut and stretch jeans and while I was excited to fit into them (hell yeah for losing weight) it looked like I was wearing leggings. Denim leggings. They were like, SKINTIGHT against my thighs and then baggy around my ankles, which is always a super attractive look. My butt looked pretty good, but if there was some way to keep the snuggery around my bum and still allow my thighs to breathe, that would be outstanding.

Needless to say, I don't think those are coming into the regular rotation any time soon.

I think I am going to go to bed now... it has been a long, exhausting, moderately uninteresting day and I am not going to make it worse by adding to this blog.

Cheers, darlings. I'm sorry for writing such a god awful waste tonight.

Introductions all around: Merchants of Death

So today was the first day of classes at MMC. Man, by the end of the day I just wanted to shoot em all and let God sort em out like a certain uncle did one gray November morn (watch the Simpsons, jerks).

No, it was okay, actually. I am up to my eyeballs in paperwork and I feel I will never catch up with all the invoices that are coming in, but what are you gonna do? This is my first real "rush" so I am not an expert(e) in the art of juggling everything that needs to be done.

I woke up late today, and I felt that all day I never really caught up. I stopped at Super America (or whatever it is called now) and picked up a delicious low fat frappucino in a bottle thinking it would really set the tone for a good day. I get to work and start checking my email... I shook the bottle to get it all mixed up and the next thing I know, I am covered from head to toe in frappucino. I must have loosened the cap and forgotten about it, because it was EVERYWHERE. In my hair, on my computer, my pants were soaked, my floor was sticky... well actually, EVERYTHING was sticky. I had to go wash my face and my shirt in the bathroom... fortunately I had a sweater on that I could continue to wear, but the "ladies" were far more displayed than I usually care to at a catholic school.

After all the shenanigans at work, I met up with Eric and Guy for Sushi Monday. Let me tell you what Sushi Mondays are all about. Like, 5 months ago we decided to go out for susi on Monday night because this place in Stallis has half price sushi rolls (and let me tell you, that is a fucking deal right there!). Well, we now have made it a thing that pretty much every Monday we go SOMEWHERE.

I watched "Thank You For Smoking" a month or two ago with Jackie and in it, the main character meets up with his two pals every week to vent. They are all lobbyists and PR people for Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearm interests and they call themselves the Merchants of Death, which is what I have taken to calling the three of us. There are two guys and a girl, they always sit in the same spots and frankly, watching the movie hit a little too close to home. Except of course, we aren't lobbyists... Eric's a geologist, Guy's a teacher and I'm a buyer, so we are a little more on the saccharine side...

Anyways, so I don't know what got into Guy, but his meal alone was over 50 bucks, not including tip. Fortunately, we have a system and we'll switch off buying and it was his turn to pay, but holy crap. He then tried to say he was absolved from paying for sushi monday the next go round and Eric and I were like, uhhhh no dude. WE didn't get two pomagranite margaritas! We didn't order steak! (I just had nachos for chissakes!) Our bill was over 100 dollars, which is four times more than it usually is. Good times.

I was supposed to go to Tom's poetry reading tonight, but I totally got home late and I feel like a heel a little bit. I was extra nice to his dog instead, which makes up for it kinda.

Aussie Steve and I have been emailing again. He sent me pictures. why, Why, WHY does he do this to me when I am vulnerable and willing to drop everything and move to Sydney? He has a fucking girlfriend... of course. Because he's hot, he's a doctor, he's funny and and he's a capricorn.

Us Caps are some sexy beasts, let me remind you.

Enough now, time for bed...

Cheers.

Uh yeah, my freshman year poetry class called? They want their 'D' quality work back.

So today was a fine day.

I woke up and popped in Goodfellas, which I hadn't seen in AGES. I forgot how much I adore Ray Liotta and why he is on my list of baby daddies.

Why, what do you mean 'Who ELSE is on your list of baby daddies?' Allow me!

(in no particular order)

Adrien Brody.
Ray Liotta.
Dan Ackroyd. No, I don't understand it either.
Robert Plant. Young, hot Robert Plant. Not like, recently.
James Spader.
You.

Ha! Kidding! No, they are all kinda irreverant hey? Not that I have ever been a textbook ANYTHING, but these are all over the place. Interesting as there is really only one blond in there, considering my track record for dating lanky blond boys.

Adrien Brody is bodice-melting hot though. I LOVE guys with big noses. It is totally a sexual thing, I can admit that.

Okay, so forgetting about my melted bodice for a moment, after I reveled in the world of Ray Liotta, I got up and went down to Racine to watch the Bears kick the pants off of the Saints with Paul, Kevin, Jay and Zach.

I cannot believe how much fun just sitting there with those guys was. It was not only good to be watching a little football, but also the deflecting and thrusting of the little barbed comments that I just don't get enough of in my day to day life.

I was also informed that at one point, my darling Michael had decided that it would be a good idea to snort a boullion cube.

Hang on, hang on. . .

A BOULLION CUBE.

This was the guy I wanted to have kids with!? I must have been out of my mind.

I then stopped over for a minute over at my mom's house to drop off some hangers and somehow we started talking about my retiring in the Caribbean and she was insulted that I would wait until she was dead to go down there. I told her she was going to live to be 135 just to make my life a living hell. I described her: skin, tanned to a leathery consitancy, a visor as well as Blu-Blockers, a bikini, chain smoking, a bottle of rum in one hand and riding a Rascal, yelling at me and my children ("No, kids, look, Grandma is not going to listen to me... I can't make her stop trying to seduce the bartender. Look, tell her a Chippendale's show is in town, that will keep her busy for a few hours as she tries to find it.")

Welcome to hell Miss K.

My last stop was to Jackie's to pick up my pair of old glasses that I had left there last summer. I tried them on... maaaan, do I look different without my chunky frames. I thought I would occasionally wear the old ones to "take it down a notch" but as I realised that everyday I am running full force to eleven, there is no such thing as "Nicki, down a notch."

Man, it feels weird blogging again. Just like riding a bike though.

Buenos noches, darlings.

Cheers.

Here's to another goddamn New Year

Okay. Enough is enough I guess. I have been told from many, MANY people to ressurect my blog. I realised that I do my best writing when I am single, bitter and resentful.

So here I am. Bitter and resentful, party of one, your table is ready.

No, now, let's be realistic. I am not THAT bitter. Yes, okay, the end of 2006 was really shit. Yes, if it wasn't for my sunny disposition and sense of humor, I would have gone completely off the deep end. Alas, I am a scrappy little thing and managed to keep my wits about me.

To get everyone up to date and to keep records straight from my last post, Michael and I broke up. I could get into the long winded explanation but let's just say that all of my predictons came true et ca suffit.

Suffice to say I am now trying to get back into the world of dating, which is a trainwreck of epic proportions. Like, for example, I was asked out by this 30 year old PR guy for martinis. I meet up with him and instead of martini night, it was wine flight night... well, okay, that's fine, right? So he starts talking and I can't believe how boring this guy is. He's talking about mortgages and then I realise: he is wearing pleated khakis.

PLEATED KHAKIS.

He then goes on to tell me that he doesn't like anything but beer. So why then, pray tell, did you ask me out for martinis? Look, jerk. If you like beer, that's fine! Ask me out for a beer. Don't try to impress me with your wine and martinis and then look at me disdainfully when I say I like gin and tonics.

I really should not be all that surprised. He is thirty, from Wisconsin... of COURSE he likes beer and of COURSE he was wearing pleated khakis. I should really have just been pleased that he wasn't wearing camo or something.

So here we go again. Everyday my life is filled with drama and shenans, I might as well write it down hey?

La vita e bella.

Cheers.