* I have a strange habit of typing air when I am bored. When I’m somewhere that I’m bored and someone’s talking or I’m listening to something, I will try and keep up with them while typing their words verbatim. I will type air, or type against my leg and continue to do so forever. I remember the first time I did this was as a way to distract myself during my Great-Grandfather’s funeral in grade 9. It stuck.
*I’m starting to think I’m a cleavage addict. Nearly every shirt I own is of a ‘mature’ neckline. Not a plunging V or anything, but enough. It’s probably because I adore my boobs. Seriously, I do (a 3D friend brought up recently how shocked she was that I hadn’t talked about my boobs on here, since I’m always bringing them and their perfection up in real life convos). I realized this today when I put on a dress and was sure that it was too low cut for work (corporate gig…you know). My solution? Put a cardigan over top! Problem? The cardigan had the same neckline. Fail.
*Emerald is gone. She is in North Carolina, meeting Josh (also of the blog world). This throws me for a loop larger than I thought I could be thrown for. She has been gone for just over 24 hours. I have like, 12 more days to get through.
*Summer is here and this means the season of dresses is upon us. This is the first year in many that I’m willing to wear one around. It’s just been too hot for me to exist in jeans. The reason I have shunned skirts and dresses for so long? Because I am white. VERY white. I’m pale to the point that I give off a bluish glow. People love to comment on this. It usually goes like this: “Wow!! You’re SO white!!! You should seriously do something about that! Oh my god!!”
To which I will reply: “Do you ever walk up to black people and go, ‘Holy shit dude! You’re SO black! Can’t you lighten up a bit?’ Of course you don’t! It’s rude and ridiculous…..why can you say that to me?”
They then give me a strange look and a nervous laugh. They’re not sure what to do with that statement. But it’s totally true.
*I went to the boyfriend’s PhD. convocation today. It was all pomp and circumstance and fancy schmancy to-do-ery. You know who doesn’t belong in these sorts of events? Babies and toddlers. Did you really think it was a good idea to bring your child to this while they were under the age of 5? They can’t sit through that! Hell, I can hardly stand the boredom. Have the courtesy to leave the kid at home or just to not come.
*I spoke last night with my friend who I’ve mentioned only once on here (in my lazy bastard post), who I consider my guardian angel. She is such an amazing presence in my life, and after spilling my guts to her for an hour, I finally fell asleep easily and slept through the whole night for the first time in probably 3 months. I have not been able to sleep since some time in April, and having her to talk to fixed that. Finally.
*Whoever discovered that dogs love squeaky toys should be forced to live with Zoey for a week. Zoey, my puppy, LOVES squeaky things. The creator of the squeaker in dog toys will most certainly retract his patent and demand all squeakers be burned after living with her. The squeaking noises haunt me. *Shudder*
*A bird shat on me once when I was about 11 or 12. We were camping and splot. It rained poo on my forearm. It was in front of my crush at the time. It was awful.
* We have had some wicked thunderstorms lately. I used to be terrified of thunder, but now I love it. I have a great view of the CN Tower and I can just watch it get hit over and over by lightening. Love it.
*I’ve never broken a bone. I have had whiplash. In grade 3 or 4. I had to wear the whiplash collar during Christmas, which was the worst thing ever. Most people get whiplash after being in a car accident. I didn’t. Are you ready to learn how I got it? It’s an awesome reason…….I got it whilst snarkily imitating valley girls. Even at age 8 or 9, I hated fake bitches. I was showing off my great imitation to my friends and I got to the piece de triomphe….the hair toss.
I got REALLY into it and whipped my hair back behind my shoulder, complete with the neck snap. And that was that. Whiplash. The stupidity of children combined with their enthusiasm leads to horrible accidents people! I was obviously too embarrassed to reveal that to my parents and teacher, so I told them that somebody hit me in the neck while running through the hall and reaching ahead of me to get their friend. They dragged me from classroom to classroom, in my new fancy whiplash collar, to tell my tale of woe and to warn the other kids about the dangers of running in school.
To this day, my mom still believes that I got whiplash by being hit in the neck by a random boy, running amok through hallways.
Those are all of my random thoughts for now. I couldn’t think of enough of one topic for a whole post, so you got a whole bunch of mini-posts today. You lucky bastards you.