Category Archives: God Hates Me

Oh, Off! Where have you been?

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I am currently counting the mosquito bites scattered like chickenfeed across my shattered body.

16…17…18…

I hate motherfucking mosquitos.

24…25…..29…

I suspect that they may have been breeding in my air conditioner. The thought grosses me out so much I immediately have to go watch an episode of Scrubs to cleanse my palette.

41…42…

Not even in New Orleans, (which is where I last abandoned my Sad-Sigh compatriots), where things are swampy and sickly, did I get so savaged by the bugly menace. Granted, it could be because I was covered head to toe in Tyvek, and it seemed like nothing was living in those houses but mold, roaches, and the occassional thing moving around in the refrigerator before we duct taped it shut.

56…57…

One might think mosquitoes were allergic to gays, (you know… AIDS and all…), but alas, not the case. Although, I think the extra potassium levels in my bloodstream from eating too many of my dad’s specialty purple yams, (don’t ask), may be luring them away from Dakotah and Katja to my tasty, Chinesey flesh.

61…62…

The worst part of it is, GRACE, is that the more wine I drink, the more each of these motherfuckers itches.

67…68…

Man… I would never make it past day 3 on Survivor.

72 Mosquito bites in the last 10 days. I should win an award.

Don’t try to make a getaway on a motorbike with someone you just met

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Ok, so I’ve noticed that all my titles seem more like advice to some trashy 2 year old. But whatever.

So, I was out with this guy (that I’m really not into but he doesn’t stop texting and I was kind of bored so I decided to just meet up with him again), and he wanted to meet up with his cousin and friend at this roof top restaurant. I was hesitant at first, but I’m glad I did because they were much cuter! So, we get drunk (as assumed) and among other things I drop my phone off the balcony. But that isn’t the sad-sigh part, because it wasn’t broken. So, the night goes on and I get irritated at my friend for some reason or another and find it appropriate to take his friend home instead. So, in a sneaky get away the cuter friend said he would take me home on his motorbike while his friends went to another bar. All seemed to be going well, I had a good buzz going which made me love the wind against my face on the ride home. Then, we reach an unexpected security check point and have to pull over. I find out this guy only has his “student liscence” (don’t worry he’s 26, i’m not a pedaphile), and the police impound his motor bike right on the spot! I even try to bribe the police, but to no avail. So, the fun was all over in a snap- my new cuter friend was a little upset and went home. Hopefully he will get his motorbike out of lock down tomorrow morning. But I felt like God was watching me and being a cockblock. But I’d like to think maybe s/he was just helping me out in the longrun from something horrible happening, telling me don’t try to make a getaway on a motorbike with someone you just met.

Damn You Chinch! (Shakes fist at ceiling)

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Okay, so it is now 5:30AM! and I am writing a post on Sad. Sigh. This is after 4 hours of trying to sleep with a chinchilla going spastic at the other end of the room. I finally calmed him down and moved him OUT of the bedroom, (like the concept had never struck me before), but now I can’t sleep. The SUN is actually coming up outside. It’s maddening. I’ve already e-mailed my boss and my team telling them that I’m coming in at 1:00, because seriously… nobody needs a grumpy zombie with a chinch vendetta. Somehow, I can’t shake the feeling that this is my boyfriend’s fault. If he wasn’t in fucking Africa digging wells for starving children, and teaching them to love God, he could be here taking care of the chinch. What a selfish fucking bastard!

Why People in Britain Always Talk About the Weather

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I’m blogging again about the weather.  I know!  I know!  It’s cliche!  I move to the UK and it’s all I can think to talk about anymore, aside from the dissertation that should have been started already. 

Anyway, I have a second date tonight with a boy I like a lot.  We used to work together at the deli before he got fired and I quit, and then through the wonders of the internets (Facebook) I got in contact with him and we went for drinks.  This is only incidental to my story but I just wanted to brag that I’m not SO sad that no one wants to date me.  Haha!  I’ve got a date!  And not with a drug dealer this time! (That’s a story for another time).

So, being a girl, I started obsessing over what to wear.  It’s not really a date so much as I’ve invited him along to watch me and my flatmates get completely sloshed for the end of the semester.  I told him we’re entertainment and besides, they’ve both invited boys.  I figured, since it’s May, I should be able to wear my pretty pretty sun dress and sandals.

Think again, says Mr. Weather.

May 19th and it has barely broken 15C (about 60F).  I turned on my computer and the little widgit that tells me what the weather’s going to be like had rain coming out of the sun.  Rain does not come out of the sun, I thought, and put my dress on anyway.

Except then it did.

No lie.  I was minding my own business, putting my makeup on in my room when I look outside.  The sun is still shining furiously and it is chucking down rain.  Like, absolutely pissing.  It was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.

And this is why there is the cultural phenomenon of British people liking to talk about the weather.  Because it’s fucking messed up!

Itches and bitches

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I’m overworked and underliving.

After like 10 years of not going digital, and about two years of having a somewhat broken film camera, I finally caved by ordering a digital camera – and missed signing for it because I was at work until 8:45pm. My friends are coming this weekend and I want to have digital memories of Birthday Bonanza 2006 (Oh god. We’re so old! And so not bonanza types). But chances are I won’t get the camera until Monday unless I drive to downtown LA on a Friday before 7pm. Which would mean I’d have to leave work at about 3pm and battle traffic for about 4 hours only to not have change for the meter but risk it anyway and go stand in line for another hour only to come out and find my car’s been towed. All this because I was too cheap to pay for expedited shipping.

On another note, I went to dinner at Kay n Daves knowing they serve delicious margaritas – but was disappointed by my marinara sauced enchiladas. Afterwards, I went to play with cute dogs, made progress with the shitzu, who finally let me hold him without growling – and now I have hives.