I always wanna be like "look, dude, I'm trying to run five miles today. I'm not gonna gas myself just to race you." So naturally, I race them and I win. Like the daughter, the mom can only run for like fifteen seconds, so it's a pretty easy race, but it bugs me, you know? And then the next time I come up on them, they'll either do the same thing, or they'll start swerving from side to side, like daring me to get past them. The whole thing just irritates me. So when I spotted her tonight at the restaurant with her family, I pointed her out to Jacob who backed me up by saying "oh yeah, she looks annoying." THANK YOU. Yes she does. He also said there was no way her name was Cyndy. He thinks she's a Sidney. Psssshhhh, what does he know? She spotted me a bit later and we exchanged dirty looks. You're probably thinking I should be more mature, but....she started it! And once you get on my enemy list, there's no turning back. Just like Tom Haverford's dunzo list:
I've just come back from taking the boys outside, and poor Andy must have a little tummy ache, because he was eating grass. Here's what I love about Andy though, he knows he should eat the grass to settle his stomach, but he doesn't like the taste of it. So instead of chomping all the grass he can, like his brother does when he's sick, he just kind of licks the grass and pulls it softly with his front teeth. It's like watching myself when I have a sore throat. I know I'm supposed to gargle with salt water to make it feel better, but I'm not mature enough to do it without holding my nose and gagging and whining.
Today I went to the pilates class I love, and was disappointed to realize Miss Piggle-Wiggle was teaching it. She of course got on my nerves the whole time. She even made a point about starting early and then the class still went like five minutes over! I mean, no, technically I have nowhere to be, but it's a 30 minute class. That's what I expect to do. Once you see the class is going to go over, why don't you cut out a couple things?? Like this thing she had us do to cool down-we had to squat like sumo wrestlers (knees to the side), bend over, and sweep our arms across the floor, swaying from side to side, gradually rolling up until our arms were making big circles. Lady, this is pilates, not interpretive dance. I am not Pocahontas and this is not helping me cool down. End the dang class. Once we had gone a couple minutes over, one of the ladies started to get up and put her stuff up because she had to leave. The teacher was like "yeah yeah, I know. You guys just want to get your thirty minutes in and go." Well, lady, sometimes people have to BE SOMEWHERE. Not me, but some people! Maybe she has a child to pick up from practice, or maybe she has to make dinner for her family. Not everyone can just come up to the gym in their clogs and just fart around as long as they want! Also, I realized today that this lady looks like Miss Piggle-Wiggle, but has the laugh and the soul of Ursula from The Little Mermaid. So, yeah, she's not exactly likable.
I had to stop by Sherwin Williams today to browse the paint samples so I can give our builder the colors we want to use. That is if the house ever gets that far. SHOCKINGLY there was no one working at the house again today. Ohhhhh feigned surprise!
Please. Also, for those of you wondering, no, my builder never called me back. He did, however, call back Jacob within a couple hours of Jacob calling him on Friday. A feminist, I am not, but it's very annoying to me that he totally disregards my phone calls but will gladly call my husband. I'll give him a couple more chances, but then I'm totally pulling the feminist card. I'm gonna get all "I bet the women in this town won't want to build a house by some MALE CHAUVINIST PIG!" Hopefully he won't call that bluff because that would make no difference here. Pretty sure the feminist movement never made it to western North Dakota. ANYHOO, back to the paint store. I was trying to get a good selection of tans/khakis to decide from (even though I know I'm going to use the color we picked in our old house), and I was making the men working there VERY uncomfortable. Every time I picked up a paint sample, they'd ask me very nervously if I needed any help. It was very odd to me. They had other customers, but were still strangely concerned that I was hoarding paint samples or something. Suck it, dudes. I'm taking alllllllll of these home with me.
For some reason (insert Mom commenting on my hormones), I have been breaking out like crazy lately. Come on proactiv, this is what I pay you for! Currently I've got an especially painful pimple right on my cheekbone on the right side of my face. It's one of those big underground ones, so the whole area is just swollen and painful. I tried to tell myself earlier today as I was putting my makeup on that it really just accents my cheekbones, and gives me the definition I've always wanted in my face. In reality, though, it looks like I was punched in the face and could use a steak to the eye. Don't worry, everybody, I'm just a 26 year old with bad skin.
There are a couple of job openings at the hospital here that I'm applying for. I spoke with someone today who said she was going to forward my resume to the lady hiring for one of the positions. They'd both be really great opportunities, because they're part time, so I'd still get to sleep in, hang out with the boys, and go to the gym before going to work. I really, really hope they call me for interview, so keep that in your prayers.
Well that about sums up everything over here. Except I'm realizing now that I've got some pretty crazy heartburn going on. Looks like I need some juice! I bought this juice at Walmart, it's cranberry grape blend, and it is so good. It tastes just like communion wine, which means it's too strong for my mom, but it's wonderful. Sometimes to trick myself into thinking I'm a grownup, I drink it out of a wine glass. I like to keep it classy, folks.
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