Conversations with C

C: Girl, [my boyfriend] said that if you go to the bar over at the Fox and Hound, you will be swarmed with guys.
Me: What? The 40-year-old men that can afford to eat there?
C: He says they're all 20-30 years old.
Me: Hmm. My luck all the balding irritating guys on the 30-year-old side of the spectrum will swarm at me.
C: Apparently the girls that hang out there aren't attractive.
S: (in my mind) Wow. My life is now officially pathetic.

Sadly I have been reduced to finding places where the ugly girls hang out. So I can swoop in and shine by comparison. Oh what a glamorous life I do lead. ;)

Smooching

You're an Expert Kisser

You're a kissing pro, but it's all about quality and not quantity You've perfected your kissing technique and can knock anyone's socks off And you're adaptable, giving each partner what they crave When it comes down to it, your kisses are truly unforgettable

What Kind of Kisser Are You?

[Via]

I'll Be Home for Christmas

But you won't.

Choir Practice?

The majority of the members of my church choir are over 60 years old. Tonight we had a scheduled rehearsal, but we had very low attendance. The director says, "Where is everybody? We can't do a new song with just 7 people." So the 60 year old woman next to me says, "So, are we having a party?" Director says, "Might as well. We have food and cake left from Oktoberfest on Saturday." Woman says, "Okay, I'll make the beer run." I'm sitting in the music room of my church thinking, "Did that woman just say beer run?" Yes my friends. She did.

So, about 30 minutes later, everyone's enjoying beer, bratwurst, potatoes, kraut, and german chocolate cake (I just had cake...and beer...(s).) And we're discussing Oktoberfest. Specifically we're discussing the woman who got snooty with our very nice, very pregnant choir girl over the matter of a $3 beer.

Choir Girl: "She just started yelling at me about how ridiculous it was to have to pay $3 for a beer."
Pianist Lady: "She yelled at you?"
Blind Guy: "I was there. She yelled at her."
Pianist Lady: "What did she look like?"
Crazy Lady: "Who was she? I'll make a voodoo doll of her."
Choir Girl: "Well, she had short blonde hair. I've seen her before but I don't know her."
Choir Boy: "Hang on, I'll get the directory."
Choir Girl looks intently through the church's pictorial directory
Choir Girl: "There! That's her."
Pianist Lady: "That bitch."
Everyone else: "Let me see."
Crazy Lady: "Is her phone number in there? We'll call her right now. The bitch. Look, she's got kids. She should've just used their tickets to get more beers. It's not like they were gonna use them."

I couldn't believe the cursing from these old people. It was hilarious.

Oh, and the story on Crazy Lady? She has to be about 50 years old. Maybe a bit older. We start talking about organ donation and she tells me that she probably couldn't donate her organs. I of course inquired why not. And she says, "Because I do too many drugs. Plus I don't know what on me they would want to use. pointing to herself Plastic, plastic, plastic. Not much to transplant if you ask me." Also, Blind Guy? He memorizes all the music and sings it on Sunday. And he's hilarious. That dude is the man. Sadly, neither of the gay guys showed up tonight. They're a laugh riot too. That's all for now...laters!

As if I needed something else to do...

So I just got another email with fabulous ideas to waste my free time.

If you are not familiar with the term Hasher or Hash Club, it probably isn't what you think it is. A Hash Club has loosely been referred to as a "drinking club with a running problem." It is basically a group of folks who get together a couple of time a month, run a Hash, drink some choice beverages, sing some vulgar songs (much like rugby songs), and have good time with good people.

The idea is pretty simple. One person acts as a "Hare" (rabbit). He/she gets a 15-20 minute head start and lays a trail of flour for everyone else in the "Pack" to follow. The Hare can, and will, lay false trails and employ other tricks to lead the Pack astray. There are also "beer stops" along the trail for the thirsty Pack. If the Pack catches the Hare, more beer, if the Hare makes it to the end of his trail without getting caught, you guessed it, beer is waiting for everyone.

I'm telling you all this because there is a Hash club here in Birmingham. This is a great way to go out and meet folks from all over the area, and have a good time. Don't worry about not being in shape, the HASH IS NOT A RACE!!!! You are not even allowed to use the "R word" at a Hash. Most Hash runs are 2-5 miles. There is not a time limit and you can run, walk, or crawl it doesn't matter as long as everyone is having a good time. The next hash will be on 29 Oct and will start at Five-Points downtown. This Hash will be a Halloween Pub Crawl Hash, and will be a great first Hash for anyone interested.

So if you're looking for me October 29th, this is where I'll be: drunk somewhere in Birmingham. WOO!

Let's Play Some Friggin' Dodgeball!

I joined an intramural dodgeball team today, somewhat warily. I only joined because of immense peer-pressure from my friend. In reality I have a deep abiding fear for big beefy boys mercilessly slinging large rubber balls in my immediate vicinity. But then I got an email from our team captain, and now I'm totally stoked. Here it is, in all it's morale-tastic glory. :)

Dear Ball Dodgers,

To your credit (or regret), you have signed up for the six most amazing weeks of your life. Twelve people now make up team KORO. Together we will battle our way through twenty packs of rapacious monkeys to reach the rapture that is the dodgeball championship. All it will cost you is your sweat, your soul, your sacrifice, and $1.67. Seriously, that's how much we each have to pay to do this intramural gig.

I scanned and will attach, in pdf format in the next email, the rules and regulations of this ridiculously beautiful sport. Try to ignore my scrawl. And don't worry, the numbers written across the pages are not your social security numbers; I already sent those off to my cousin Ahmed in Jersey City.

Read the rules. But just a few main points I'd like to highlight:

1) There are 12 of us, 6 boys and 6 girls. As part of the co-ed rules, we always have to have at least 2 girls playing on the court at all times (there are 6 people to each side in dodgeball). So, given our large numbers, we should always be able to play with a full roster every time. If our team ends up being a bunch of lazy ass slackers (which I suspect it will be) we are allowed to play with only 5.

2) We will be playing Tuesday nights probably. I don't know what time yet. Probably later in the evening, 8PM or so. You can check the schedule on line at students.uab.edu. I think the first game will start next week.

3) I will assume everybody will be coming to each game unless you tell me otherwise. So please tell me if you're not coming. We can only offer up two forfeits before being kicked out of the tournament.

4) Always bring your ID to the games. The games will be on the volleyball courts in the rec center.

5) Really, there is an entry fee of $20 for our entire team for the 6 week season. That works out to $1.67 each. I say, why not each give me $2 and we'll save the extra $4 at the end for a ninja crazy pizza party.

6) Don't know what Koro means? I'll tell you at our first game. Don't care? Well....F#$% YOU!

7) Contact me if you have any questions or need tips on how to throw and catch a ball. My cell number is ***-****.

8) LET'S PLAY SOME FRIGGIN DODGEBALL!!!!!

I'm so ready to beat 20 packs of rapacious monkeys. Dodgeball, here I come.

Confession

I am a Catholic.
During mass, I sing the songs from "Jesus Christ Superstar" in my head.
It's about Jesus, so it's not sacrilegious.
Right?

OLP: A night in review

Went to see Our Lady Peace on Thursday night at the Roxy in Atlanta. Can I just tell you? Awesome. Totally. Freaking. Awesome. I have seen OLP a few times before in concert, so I knew that it would be good. But this was amazing. Raine Maida has the most insanely powerful voice in the world. The concert was general admission standing room only, except the seats in the balcony. (But what real fan wants to sit way the hell back there? Actually, I take that back. There was a man in the front row of the balcony who conducted, head-banged, and danced through the whole concert. He looked about 45. I can't tell you how hard we laughed at this man. I wish I'd had a video camera.) My friend P and I ended up in the 2nd row and a little to the right side of the stage. Really great view. So I guess I should start this story at the beginning.

We didn't leave Birmingham until 3:30 PM...which is 4:30 PM Atlanta time. And the concert started at 8. And it takes about 2.5 hours to get to Atlanta from where we are. So we thought we had plenty of time. Of course, we didn't account for the additional time we'd need to be COMPLETELY STOPPED IN TRAFFIC ON THE INTERSTATE and the time we'd need to WANDER AROUND IN THE 'HOOD (Damn you Yahoo! Maps.) There was construction on I-20 which was really not fun except for the dude in the car next to us. Honestly, I wish there was some way that I could show you my imitation of this man. You know that dance where you put your hands out to your sides and you kind of shake your shoulders....I don't know if it's called shimmying or what. But this man was doing it...while poking his lips out as much as he could. Might I add the fact that this man was about a 300 lb. black man? Because that pretty much makes the mental picture what it is. Hi-frikkin-larious. We spent the whole night doing imitations of this man.

That is, until we were driving all over the worst parts of Atlanta. I have never been in shadier places in my life. And the whole time we're having to stop at gas stations and ask for more and more directions. Because Yahoo! Maps completely sucks. Do not use them. Then when we get into the city proper, P is rolling down her window striking up conversations with anyone and everyone she can get to. If you've never been to Atlanta, here's a useful fact: Every street in Atlanta is named Peachtree. Peachtree Avenue, Peachtree Boulevard, Peachtree Lane, etc. So you stop for directions and people tell you to go til you get to Peachtree. Makes it really hard to figure out where the hell you are. Finally we were next to some paramedics who told us exactly how to get to the place and the only thing we'd missed was the first opening act, "Pedestrian." We saw half of their last song. Horrible. So I'm glad that we missed them because I didn't want to start the night with an ear-bleed.

The second opening act was "Augustana" who I actually liked. They were pretty good. We got our spots really close to the stage, and we had our signs that we'd made in the car requesting our favorite songs. I wanted to hear "One Man Army" and P wanted to hear OLP's cover of "Drive." There is a man standing directly in front of us who has to be 6'3, huge, and obviously cares nothing about OLP. He keeps yelling during Augustana's performance, "Pete Yorn!" Ass. We appropriately named him "Ogre" about 5 seconds after being there and we hated him through the entire concert. Everytime he went on a beer run, it was like the clouds clearing and I was able to see the stage unhindered. (BTW, beers were $6 a can. WTF?!)

Finally OLP came out. As I ranted earlier, they were amazing. They played about 20 songs so it was a pretty long concert. Raine kept telling us how he couldn't believe we were there and how much he appreciated it since they hadn't toured in 3 years. At one point he did his traditional jumping out into the audience, he snatched up someone's camera, got back on the stage and took pictures of the audience and then himself, and then returned the camera to the person in the audience. Needless to say, P and I were pretty jealous of the camera's owner. But we were sort of glad Raine hadn't come to our side of the audience because if Ogre would've blocked our ability to touch Raine, we would have had to kill him. And we really don't have the money for court fees. The only thing that really bothered me was that I've read several show reviews saying that Raine always prefaces the performance of "Wipe that Smile Off Your Face" with some sort of anti-Bush remark. I was looking forward to that remark. Because I live in the South and those remarks are few and far between in public. But it didn't happen. Instead Raine said something about us looking intelligent and that we must know the words to this song and we sang it. I think it was a total cop out. But whatever.

They left the stage, we chanted their name, and P and I got our signs ready. As I prepared to hoist my request, I took a final glance at the sign. And then I halted the lift. Because my sign requested "ONE MAN ARM." Proofreading is key my friends. And I am an idiot. So Pranathi lifted her sign, which was not misspelled, Raine read it, but they didn't perform the song. Oh well. They did 4 songs during the encore, and then the house lights came on. Sadness.

So all in all, excellent concert, highly recommend. Liked the new stuff a LOT more live. They also played some random old stuff like "Potato Girl" which was awesome. If you can, go see them.

Today. Wow.

So today was an incredibly insane day. Let me preface with the fact that I have been ill since Saturday. Nothing major, just an extremely irritating cold. You know how it is, you're not really that sick but you still feel like crap so you get absolutely nothing done? That's basically been me thus far this week. But today was going to be different. I got up, did the 7:45 AM studying thing, which is becoming easier day by day. Lovely.

Then I went to play tennis, and that is where the fun begins. I couldn't get in touch with my friend that I take lessons with. (I later found out this was due to the fact that I didn't tell her when our next lesson was going to be. Sorry again C.) A few things about our tennis instructor: he is in the midst of getting a divorce, he's a few years older than us, and he's Egyptian. Nuff said. He's also very irritating. Mainly because he's always flirting with my friend..which I wouldn't mind if she was interested or he was attractive. But since neither condition is true, it tends to irritate the both of us because aside from being annoying, it also eats valuable lesson time. But today she wasn't going to be there. So I thought maybe I wouldn't have to deal with that today. Not so my friends. Instead, he starts going into all these details about his divorce. I continue to nod my head in fake empathy while continuing to hit balls, fine, blah blah blah. The issue came when later on we were playing and we have this little exchange:

Instructor: "Samantha, how old are you?"

Me: "22."

Instructor: "I am too old for you."

Me: not looking at him and continuing to hit the ball "Yes you are."

Instructor: "That is so mean!"

Me: "Well, I'm sorry, but you are."

Instructor: "I'm not too old for you. Samantha, we should go out and get drunk together. Then we should go home together and you let me bang you all night long."

**At this point my jaw falls off its hinges and I'm just looking at him as though he's lost his mind. Which he obviously has because my desire to castrate him was held in check only by the fact that I'd thrown up a little bit in my mouth.**

Instructor: "Come on Samantha, I teach you to ride the camel!"

Me: "Don't threaten me. That is so disgusting. And you smell like a camel."

Instructor: "You are so mean!"

**And I'm still reeling from the reality that all this occurred. Puke tennis instructor. Puke.**

So despite the fact that my day had begun like this, I went straight from tennis to do my usual workout with two of my friends. I guess I should preface this with, 1. Don't forget I'd been sick and 2. All I ate prior to this was a granola bar. So, we do our usual workout, but it was really hard for me today. And my friend Richard says to my other friend, "Should she be working out? She's been sick." And other friend Wil says, "Sure, it won't hurt her." Famous last words my friends. Famous last words. About two exercises later, I start to feel insanely nauseated. I call it quits for the day but I stay at the gym standing around talking to my friends and feeling a bit queasy. All of a sudden I need to sit down. Like right then. Before I completely hurled. So I go sit down and all of a sudden I go deaf and everything becomes blurry. This has happened to me once before. I was giving blood and I went deaf and blurry and I almost passed out but instead my body decided to vomit all over itself. Today was slightly different because I was conveniently located near a trash can. I almost passed out in a trashcan today people. Welcome to my life. Well, my friends went and got me some water and a cold wet towel and I started to feel better. I walked rather shakily back to the school and sat in my friend's office. Alone.

About 20 minutes later, it happened all over again. The deafness, the nausea, the blurred vision. And I thought, "This is it. This is how I die. In Richard's office. Alone." Partly because I was scared. Mainly because I was a drama queen today though. I call out for Wil, but he can't hear me...partly because he's not in his office 3 doors down and partly because I'm whispering. I wheel my chair over to the phone and call Wil. No answer. I end up getting our lovely receptionist Clint, who I love. He goes and gets me some grape juice and some crackers and I recover over the next four hours because I'm afraid to drive home before my complete recovery. Needless to say I made it home unscathed and my father called me about 35 times today lecturing me about how it was good this happened to me because I need to learn to focus my chi. Because my father thinks he's a Chinese mystic. When really he's a dude from Iowa. Go fig.

So, that was my exciting day. And now I'm exhausted. And I still haven't studied for biochem. I am a bad person. Goodnight all. :)

New York, New York!

Longtime readers will remember last year's visit to NYC...I went with someone I volunteered with and I had an awesome time. I absolutely fell in love with New York. I mean, anywhere that you can watch a musical, buy knock-off purses, and see a cowboy in his underwear all on the same street- what could be better? Anyways, I'm going to a little stir-crazy to get out of Alabama/the South again soon so I'm trying to plan another trip to New York for the week after finals. I have three friends who are on board for the trip (so far) so I'm checking out hotels and shows and all that jazz. So far I've found the Pan American Hotel, and the La Quinta Inn Queens that are in our price range. (I'm secretly rooting for the Pan American because the La Quinta looks scary.) We're trying to stay for cheap so that we can spend our money on a Broadway show and going out both Friday and Saturday nights. Partay!

I really want to see "Avenue Q" this time. I saw "The Producers" on my last trip, which was good, but it wasn't my favorite. I already own and love the soundtrack to "Avenue Q" and it's what I really wanted to see last time, but my travel companion was a woman who is like a second mother to me and I didn't think her heart could take it ;) Luckily, all my travel companions love "Avenue Q" so I'm sure they'll be on board for the show...provided I can find some good cheaper tickets. Because $115.25 is pretty steep. For that I better see Hugh Jackman in tight gold lamee (sp?) pants.

So, gentle readers- any suggestions of things to do, places to stay, or ways to find cheap Broadway show tickets are welcome :)

PS- we're going around Dec. 8-11th I think...if that helps anyone find me cheaper stuff. ;)

Homebound

Well, apparently I will be skipping molecular genetics today, and possibly biochemistry as well (though I really hope not) because my keys- they are missing. I live in a teeny-tiny one bedroom apartment, and yet I've still managed to misplace my keys. And I mean seriously misplace them because I can't find them anywhere. Suucckkkk. okay, update later.

*UPDATE: While moving couch to search for keys, completely bent fingernail back and broke it at length that is way too short and makes my finger hurt. Stupid frikkin' couch. Oh, and still no keys. ARGH!!

**UPDATE: Found the keys. I have a purse. I put the purse in my backpack. Then I wandered around looking through everything for my keys. Did I check my purse? Hell no. Because I am an idiot. So now they're found and I will be attending biochem in about an hour. And I'm double-pissed about my fingernail because 1. it hurts and 2. its sacrifice was completely unnecessary. laters.

What to do

Here's my dilemna- let me know if you have any advice.
There was a guy I went to school with, really nice guy, good-looking guy, used to be a project partner in one of my classes. He used to work at a regional office of the place that I work now. When he found out I worked there, he asked me if I thought he could get a job there. I told him that if he applied, he could probably get a job since he used to work for them anyway. Well, he never applied, I graduated, end of story.

Then, about a month ago I had to go to some stupid lecture for la clase de espanol. And guess who's there too? The guy. He waits outside for me, we stand around talking for over an hour. Again he brings up the job. I tell him that we're looking for people and that if I recommend him I can guarantee him a job. He says great, I say great, la la la. So I go to my boss, tell him that this guy will be calling him and that he should hire him. He says for the guy to fax him an application and they'll get him hired. I relay this information via email to the guy. Then I don't hear from him for a month. And my boss doesn't hear from him. And I think, "Hmmm. Well, I guess I'm glad he didn't apply because I don't want to be responsible for having recommended someone unreliable."

Then yesterday, he emails me. And it's all happy-go-lucky and how's Spanish and Bill Gates sucks blah blah blah, and oh yeah, did you guys hire someone or are you just mad at me because I haven't written you in so long? And herein lies my dilemna. I had sent him an email, complete with where to get the application, who to fax it to, directions to the office, and the instructions to call me if he had any questions and I gave him my phone number. Yet I heard nothing. And then he writes me asking what he needs to do. And it's not as though he didn't get my email, because his email was a reply to mine which means mine was tacked right at the bottom. Which is probably what made me so mad because I can see right there where I told him exactly what to do. So this begs the question: is he lazy, or is he stupid? Either way, I don't want to work with him. But, I'm sure he'd do a good job and he's a smart guy. So I'm torn.

Should I:
A) Ask him what part of "fill out an application, fax it to this number, call me if you have questions" he didn't understand?
B) Just don't respond to his email?
C) Respond by saying "I talked to my boss for you, just go down there and fill out an application and you'll be good to go."

Also, I'm kind of pissed because I told my boss this guy would be calling and this guy hasn't called, which makes me look bad. However, everyone I work with (particularly my boss) is unreliable and stupid, so this guy will probably fit right in. Ugh. I'm actually really just torn between A and B. Cause C is not appealing. Comments appreciated. laters :)

Less Money, Mo' Problems

I HAVE to stop eating out everyday.

Snake from the Dead

We were leaving a hospital through the emergency room, all of a sudden my co-worker looks down and sees a snake on the ground of the ambulance bay. It's probably 3 feet long. I take a closer look and realize that someone has chopped or beat the snake's head off. Making it dead. I tell my co-workers. Nevertheless, when the security guard walks outside:

Co-worker: "That thing ain't alive, is it?

Security Guard: "The only way he's alive is if he's possessed. And y'all, if that things possessed, y'all are on your own."

Some people just suck.

Hmmm....where to begin. Okay, a few months ago, I was at a hospital working a case when a nurse asked me to hand a note to my coworker (we'll call him X for simplicity's sake.) I said sure, assuming that it was some patient information he had requested. I hand X the note, he opens it, and it's the nurse's name and phone number. I look at him and fall out laughing because this nurse is not attractive and he's married. He crumples up the piece of paper, but I did not see him throw it away. The end. Or so I thought.

Fast-forward to tonight. I go to the same hospital with different co-workers and aforementioned nurse is there. The nurse asks about X. We said he was fine, that he wasn't working tonight, and she wandered away. After she leaves, my co-workers proceed to tell me that the nurse had been enquiring about X the last time they were there. Specifically, she wanted to know if X was married. They told her to ask him herself, mainly cause they thought she was just a crazy girl. She replies that she's been talking on the phone with him for months and he said he was divorced but she wanted to confirm. They didn't say anything to her. At first I didn't believe her cause she's a little nuts, but then she started telling us stuff that he'd told her and let me tell ya folks- they've been talking. What an ass!! Let me spell this out for you people. X is married. X has a small child. And X's wife is pregnant. I have some of the most idiotic, lazy, morally reprehensible co-workers on the planet.