Monday, February 22, 2010

In Which I Talk

Really, I just wanted a post about nothing in particular. I mean, god knows if I actually had to have something to blog about every time I wrote a post they would be scarcer than they already are - which really is saying something. I mean, goodness knows I get up to enough things in my life that finding something really worth writing about is fairly difficult. So, today's topic would happen to be the Magical Cake Fairy.


No, I'm serious. The Magical Cake Fairy clearly exists. How do I know? I have been visited by this fairy. After all, I woke up this morning and tip-toed tentatively through the kitchen (well, as well as you can possibly tip-toe tentatively whist on crutches) and lo and behold there is a big white box in the kitchen. Well, there is only one thing that anyone could possibly do with a big white box: open the damn thing and check it for bombs. Upon finding none, I had to start salivating, for within was 3/4 of a cake. I had no idea where said cake was from or who produced the chocolate and cream splendor, but obviously I helped myself. So this is a shout out to you, Magical Cake Fairy, for bringing me this mysterious delicious cake.

I shall set to going up several pant sizes immediately.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

All About Tybalt

Because, of course, I need to post all of the juicy details. I mean, I'm well aware that most of my reader base has heard it, but I did promise.

Besides, I just came from reading Tea's blog so I'm motivated (and on the subject of Tybalt's eyebrows, he gets them waxed. Although when he lets them grow out before the next session it seriously bugs the crap out of me - even more so than when Bryant's bit of hair is too short and sticks up and flounces as he walks and THAT really bugs me.)

Anyway, we will have a brief overview of the first date because most of you know the details, then moving into the second one.

Date #1 (Valentines Day):
-picked me up in his car (and looked cute in his shirt)
-gave me a pound of chocolates wrapped in heart wrapping paper (which was cute, although I'm surprised he went near that sort of paper)
-took me to Tengda for lunch (really yummy - oh and he paid, that too)
-went back to my house to watch the olympics (although there was more talking that actually watching to be honest. also, he was too chicken to put his arm around me)
-got bored of the olympics and went to Margot's to watch a movie and eat cookies (during which he finally got the courage to put his arm around me; although at first i thought he was going to do the stupid yawn thing)
-i needed to go to SAT class, so he took me home
-no, we did not kiss or hug goodbye (it was in the car, so hugging wouldn't have worked)


Date #2 (two days after I killed my ankle):
-he came over, I let him in
-we watched Ace Ventura #2 (and talked for a bit during it because we interrupt things like that)
-his stomach made noises until i finally managed to talk him into food
-we snacked and continued watching (oh yea and he used me needing to put my foot up to put his arm around me. which i, yet again, find cute but at the same time he could learn from the Nike slogan of Just Do It.)
-movie ended, we didn't move and kept talking
-he had to go, so i walked him out and we had an awkward hug (the crutches got in the way)


Well, he's learning. I'm fairly proud of him.


And no, Nyx, we have not yet had a conversation on how he took 3458345 years to ask me out.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Crutches Aren't Fun

I know I owe you all a post containing the details of my date with Tybalt. But right now I'm more in the mood to feel sorry for myself, so that will have to wait.

I have a sprained ankle because some fucking kid cut me off at the rink and I tried to dodge her. Changing direction mid-crossover is NOT easy. Well, unless you're a professional skater. I'm not.

All the fucking kids who don't know how to skate should stay the fuck off the rink. (Obviously, my friends are an exception to this rule)


Now I'm on crutches for just shy of a week (depending how I feel) and I'm basically not supposed to do much for a while. It's not really the pain that bothers me - I've broken bones multiple times before, so while it hurts like fuck it's all in perspective. I can handle that. It's more the fact I can't DO things. And its my ANKLE. Hello, RUNNER HERE. The last think I needed was ANOTHER leg/foot related injury. This was why I DIDNT do indoor, so I could heal for outdoor.

Not that I didn't expect something to happen. Usually whenever I have a really really good day the next day is shit. Karma likes to average things out. And besides, I'm always sick during break, and I wasn't sick. So I knew SOMETHING was going to happen. Not that it stopped me from having a life.


UGH.




Fucking kids. Someone remind me I thought it would be a good idea not to just take out the kid??

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Disney's Number One Stripper

Because, well, Disney mens are generally hot. I mean, they have to be since they're hooking up with the main characters who are supposed to be gorgeous to the point that Nyx (who will now be referred to as Nyx but tagged as Jackie because I can) would probably start lecturing about "unattainable body image" as she does whenever we walk into anywhere with a picture of a model.


Of course, not that I sit around and converse about wanting to watch Disney characters strip in my free time without any sort of actual reason. I went over to Penguine's house yesterday to watch a movie which then dissolved into being a Disney movie night consisting of Pocahontas, Mulan, Tarzan, and Balto in that order. There is this scene of about .2 seconds in Tarzan in which he rips off his shirt to go and save people/apes in his immensely sexy way which we had to rewatch 2 times which provoke the thought that Tarzan would make the greatest stripper ever. I mean, we've all gotten a great look at the merchandise and it's not like he isn't used to running around almost-naked.

This quickly dissolved into comparing the various Disney boys (my favorite of which is Naveen for the sole reason of his accent being ridiculously sexy) and who would be the best stripper. Tarzan took the #1 spot, of course, with Shan coming after.


I mean, no one who likes running around without a shirt on that much can possibly be a saint.