¡Adios!

I have escaped the real world and am backpacking through Mexico and Guatemala. Find me at the Guatemala! link to the right.

Jobs I will NEVER have

- Taxidermist
- Jewelry Consultant
- Chicken Sexer (this person separates baby chicks by their sex)
- Playboy Bunny
- Horse Whisperer
- Rodeo Clown
- J. Lo's Nipple Tweaker (seriously, this is a job. Before she does a music video or photo shoot, she, logically, needs to look nipply. Her tweaker comes out and . . . tweaks)
- Cow Hoof Trimmer
- Crocodile Wrangler
- Fecal archaeologist

I meet the strangest people

Standing in line at Subway, I was thinking normal Subway thoughts. I want turkey, but that's not part of the 5 dollar foot long deal, and if I get a foot long I can eat it for lunch and dinner. Oh, the only meat they have that I could handle is tuna, but I don't want 12 inches of tuna. Life is SO HARD!

The woman standing directly in front of me was a little sketch, by anyone's standards. Her hair was a purply-red, her shirt collar diving toward her belly button, and her bra about three letters too small. She turned around a few times to smile at me, the third time I pretended to be enraptured with the chip rack.
"You know, I have a 10 year old son and a 2 year old daughter."
Damn. She's breaking the ice. "Oh, that's nice."
"Yeah, I haven't seen my son in 6 years though. My parents stole him from me 6 years ago."
What the hell? "Oh, that's awful."
"No, it was for the best. I was focusing all my energy toward him, and I didn't want to live myself. So, it's good they took him."
What the hell? "Oh, well, I guess that's good then."
"Yeah, it is good. I have a two year old daughter now, and it's good I don't have my son. Now I can focus all my attention on her, rather than on two kids."
Your boobs are trying to talk to me, please keep them at bay. "Well, that's good for you and your daughter, I guess."
"Yeah, she's a handful though! She has all sorts of tantrums, I think I'm gonna have to get her a helmet soon! She's gonna crack her head open with all her head banging and screaming."
Maybe she is banging her head due to the torture of staring at your nipples. Really now, they're almost coming out. "Oh my! Sounds like she probably could use a helmet."
"You know, I had a really rough pregnancy. I didn't even know I was pregnant until 2 1/2 months in. I hemorrhage a lot, so with so much bleeding, how was I to know I was pregnant?!"
Overshare!! I just wanted a sandwich, that's all. Please don't tell me about your bleeding habits. "Well, at least you did finally find out." I gave a ridiculous triumphant punch in the air.
The woman finally turned around. Oh thank merciful heavens. Now, what meat was I getting?
"Yeah, I've had a pretty rough life, but I'm doing okay."
Turkey. I'll just get 6 inch turkey.
"Actually, my husband died. He died just two weeks ago."
Seriously, in the Subway line? "Wow. I'm sorry, that's awful."

In my state of confusion, what on earth am I supposed to do with that information?, I ended up ordering tuna. Dang. On my way out the door Crazy Boobs gives me a smile and a wave. What do you say to a stranger that tells you of their hemorrhaging issues and their recent widowhood? "Well, good luck, with, you know, your life and all."

Oye Ve, the life of a poor college student

I am off to Guatemala in 10 days, and poor as . . . someone very poor. In this state of poorness, I decided to give Plasma. I've known several people to do so, and it's 50 extra bucks / week. On my first day of donating, I was car-less and had to bike out to Meridian. I got lost, and it began to rain. By the time I found the donation center, I was soaked, tired, and an hour late to my appt. After an hour of questioning, I found out my temp. was too low because of the bike ride + rain. Damn. The next day I borrowed my own car (I had lent it to a friend). The donation center was filled with 15 rather homeless looking people. One guy kept falling asleep and the attendants had to continually hit his feet or yell at him.
I was happy to note that my next visit found the center full of college students, probably getting some extra beer money. That time was pretty painful, and left me with a bruise. As my track marks accumulate, I wonder who thinks I am a heroin addict.
Today, while peacefuly donating 850 mL of my precious plasma, this annoyingly bubbly, loud woman came waltzing in. She sat across from me and we kept making awkward eye contact. Her friend Brenda, who I don't think was really her friend, happened to be sitting next to me, and the whole center became privvy to their (her) loud conversation.
"Brenda! Great to see you here dear!"
"Yep."
"You come often?"
"Twice a week."
"Oh! You're a regular! I'm so proud of you."
Minute of silence.
"Yeah, I'm so happy for you Brenda. This is good money."
Minute of silence.
"Fifty dollars a week, Brenda. Excellent money, don't you think?"
"Yeah. Excellent."
"You're donating twice a week, that must mean your protein levels are good."
"They are."
"Good for you Brenda! It's good that you're healthy and your protein is high."
Several minutes of silence.
"Gosh Brenda, Congratulations on coming in here as a regular. Such good money. It's good to see you here Brenda!"
And then, thank the lord, Brenda's plasma bag was full and she left.
"Well Brenda, since you're a regular and all, maybe we'll be donating together next week!"
I'm hoping that my new status as a 'regular' won't cause me to donate with Brenda + friend again.

Mudphobia

Mudphobia?  Yes, Paris Hilton likely has it, but you wouldn't expect it from a pig.  This is hilarious and wonderful - it makes me completely smitten with life.  I stole it from Diana's blog, but for those that don't read hers [link provided on the right], I had to share this with you. If you've already seen it, watch it again.

Flanhoodles, Lesbians, and Drunken Whoopses

Last week, I had the honor, nay, the privilege, of going on two dates with Lynn Flanhoodles. This has made her my longest standing relationship in years. On our first date, she was a bridesmaid and I her groomsman. Lynn and I have bonded, many times, over the fact that lesbians hit on us quite frequently. It has actually become a regular part of my drinking routine to acknowledge (or run away from) the women coming onto me. On this night of my first date with Lynn, I wore a tie, and a black jacket, and my hair was pulled back - I was every bit the stereotypical lesbian. On our way to Rumors, I thought, oh no. This cannot end well for me. Ironically enough, however, I did not attract the women folk that night. Go figure. The time I act the part, I get nothing - story of my life. Lynn, however, in her red dress, got hit on enough for the both of us.
The next night, Lynn and I went to prom together, both in dresses. This was not the scene for lesbians, but there was a boy I needn't have been in close quarters with while drunk. Luckily for me, my date kept me mostly away from him (thank you Lynn). She was so adamant at keeping me away, in fact, that she football tackled me against the house and I have a bruise to show for it. My drunken will was stronger than her hold, however, and I stumbled my way back into the party. I don't remember anything of my interaction with this boy, but the awkward, silent look I got from him yesterday tells me I either told him about the trophy I won for hairiest legs during hazing week on the Gonzaga crew team, or I spilled something of my feelings. Whoops! Life was so much easier when I was a lesbian.

On the Dalai Lama

While riding bikes the other day with Erin, we encountered one of my new favorite Bellingham wackos. We were stopped at a Light on Lakeway, and there were actually two other bikers stopped along side us. Standing on the sidewalk, was a gray haired, toothless, crazy looking bloke. He held a sign, and I assumed would be asking us for money. Oh no. Instead he informed us that we are sinners going to hell, and that God hates us. I think he was excited to have someone to impart his judgement upon that couldn't role up a window. This was my favorite snippet from his rantings.
"God knows what you do. He hates you. The Dalai Lama hates you too. In fact, if he were here, he'd kick you in the left butt cheek! Yeah . . . God, the Dalai Lama, and that other guy - they all hate you!"