Waiting for My Real Life to Begin

The life and times of a girl named Swishy.

Thursday, December 28, 2006

Seriously ... whatever

That's SO my attitude right now. Whatever, whatever, whatever. Just say it out loud: whatever. Total, immediate Zen. Whaaaaaaatevvvvvahhhhhh. That single word will represent the healthy, indifferent Swishy of 2007. WHATEVER!

So, anyway. I have a really funny story, but first I have to tell the person it's kinda about, then I can tell you. Instead I'll tell someone else's funny story. Ready?

OK. So I work with this guy who has two vintage cars that he loves more than life. He always comes and talks to me when he wants to be cheered up, which is what he did today. I'm like, "What? What's the matter?" and he goes, "You didn't hear?" And I'm like, "No! What?"

OK. Seriously. You'll die. This is why I should never take a day off work, because I TOTALLY missed it. He parked his classic Corvette in a reserved spot up close, because there weren't very many people at work and he didn't think it would be a big deal. Next thing you know, he gets a phone call from a guy in another department who'd been outside smoking. "You've got to get down here," the guy says. How come? Because some old man was in the parking lot, driving his car into the Corvette.

Yes, you totally read that right. SOME OLD MAN WAS DRIVING HIS CAR INTO THE CORVETTE. Apparently this man was irate because he's 67 years old and he's had that reserved spot for 24 years and HOW DARE someone else park in his spot! That's HIS SPOT! EVERYONE knows it! The spot he's had for 24 years! He has a deal with the building management! A deal he's had for 24 years!

So he decided to drive into the car, hit reverse, drive into it again, hit reverse, and drive into it again, to move it out of his spot. Leaving a note on the windshield? So passive-aggressive. The take-charge move of the new millenium? Ramming one's car into a parked vehicle.

Nobody was killed--although, apparently, it was a little touch-and-go there for a minute--but the police were called, and the angry man has to pay the repair estimate or they'll press charges. Meanwhile, Mr. Crazypants is running loose on the second floor of our building, so who KNOWS what kind of goodies lie ahead.

Other random bits:

* I am so over Grey's Anatomy right now. OK, not really, but I'm pissed off that there hasn't been a new episode in a month and the next new one's still two weeks away. But why I'm REALLY pissed is because I feel like they are SCREWING UP my Meredith and McDreamy! At first I thought it was just me, but I've been watching old episodes and going on Television Without Pity to fill the void and it's SO NOT just me! I'm going to write an entire post about this that you can ignore in a week or two. I'm totally worked up over it.

* VH1's showing I Love the '90s. I miss the '90s. Not the early, angsty, flannel-clad '90s, but the poppish, "I really, really, really wanna zig a zig ay" '90s. The TRL-in-its-heyday '90s, when Britney was a sweet-faced little teenager who had a crush on her old Mickey Mouse Club castmate and Christina Aguilera hadn't gotten dirrty yet and the Backstreet Boys were singing about never making me cry. Katie Holmes was just a girl on a brand-new show called Dawson's Creek. And Jerry Maguire--they just showed a clip of that. That was the last Tom Cruise movie I really loved. That was 10 years ago! TEN!

Wow ... I'm old. Oh, well. Whaaaaaatever.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Happy holidays, everyone!

I can't believe how bad I've been about posting! I seriously have started a bunch of times and then I've remembered, oh crap, I forgot to order this online, or oh, crap, I need to wrap this present, or oh, crap, I have to run the dishwasher before 10 p.m. Not that it's easy to sidetrack me or anything!

So here, in no particular order, is a mess of stuff I WOULD have blogged about had I gotten my act together sooner:

* I got to do something so cool last week--I hung out on the sideline at Monday Night Football. I stood right next to the players and watched the game, and I got to walk around along the field wherever I wanted. It was very, very fun. They hit each other HARD! Holy crap. And even though you know the quarterback throws a tight spiral and the kicker hits the ball with enough oomph to send it 40 yards, it's different when they're doing it two feet away. It's way cool.

And seriously? NFL cheerleaders? Not that hot. They wear SO MUCH BODY MAKEUP! It's really scary up close, and every guy I was around said the same thing. They wear this flesh-colored spandex, too, to hold them in. My friend always tells me that I can't admit when other girls are hot--which is SO NOT TRUE, because I have a TOTAL girl crush on Heidi Klum--but I think you should know that you probably look just as good if not better than some of those girls in real life. Consider that my holiday present to you.

* Our work party was at Dave & Buster's--they're all over the place, right? So you know what I'm talking about? Anyway, we had some appetizers and drinks and then they gave us these little cards to play games. My favorite is the pop-a-shot thing. I LOVE IT! I beat our human resources guy and he demanded a rematch, and then I beat him again. So now he calls me "Champ" every time he sees me, and all these people keep telling me about how he's going around the building talking about how I beat him. I'm not the ultimate champion, though. I got beat two out of three times by my work BFF, even though I got my high scores of the day against him. Somehow I ended up with extra cards, though, so the rematch is ON. If he's not too scared. Which, honestly, he might be. I'll keep you posted.

* Remember how I got pulled over for having expired plates? I finally got the registration renewed, and the day before my court date I went to pay the one ticket and pitch a fit on the other one. The woman was SO SNOTTY to me about the insurance ticket! I TOLD her the cop said he messed up, and of course she didn't believe me. I guess I wouldn't necessarily believe me, either, but COME ON! So you know I totally made her call the cop. She's all, "He doesn't remember you," and I was like, "Oh, trust me, he will." So he came in, and remembered me as soon as he saw me, and long story short, he tore up my ticket. YES! VICTORY!

OK, but listen to this. I'm waiting in the lobby of the police station for him to show up, right? So while I'm waiting, these two girls come in and ask to speak to this one detective. The detective comes out, and it's not like I MEANT to eavesdrop, but hello! It's a small lobby! Anyway, the girls came to file a report because they worked for this doctor whose paychecks to them bounced (some of their coworkers already had been in). But then ALL THIS OTHER STUFF starts coming out. Like, for example, the doctor FORGED his medical malpractice insurance because he couldn't afford it. He had pharmaceutical reps come from all over and bring him samples, which he then TOOK HIMSELF! And no one really knows if he's even certified to practice medicine, even though he has a ton of patients. CRAZY, right? And it all came out because he started bouncing checks to his employees. I was like, holy crap, can you imagine finding out your doctor is addicted to pain meds and might not even be allowed to practice medicine? It was TOTALLY scandalous. The detective kept looking at me all incredulous (looks, of course, I pretended I didn't see, since I wasn't *really* listening) and at one point he's all, "I feel like I'm on a soap opera!" I was like, you and me both, buddy. It was like every time he asked them a question, he unearthed another little piece of dirt on this guy. It was SO real-life Law and Order.

* Speaking of doctors (hopefully fully licensed, ethical ones!) I went to get my mysterious bruises checked out this week. They ran a bazillion blood tests, and everything came back OK. I have to get more iron in my system, but that's it. So, phew. Swishy lives to see another day.

* I talked to Matthew Fox (you know, from Party of Five and Lost) last week and he was ummm ... a bit boring. Sad! It reaffirms my belief that no matter how hot a guy is, it doesn't matter if he's not funny.

* I got my final Secret Santa presents, and they were (drum roll) ... a Team Jolie T-shirt and an "I Love Grey's" magnet for my desk! How fun is that?!? I told the girl she ruined me for all future Secret Santas.

* I'm at my parents' house for Christmas. I actually have to fly home on Christmas (boooo!) so I came up a couple days early. Isn’t it funny how you completely revert to your 13-year-old self when you’re in your parents’ house? We had to cram everyone in one car this morning, which meant someone had to sit in the middle. And my sister--a financial analyst in the Bay area, a GROWN, PROFESSIONAL WOMAN, for crying out loud--ran to the car first and locked the door after her so no one could scoot in and move her to the middle. I think we all know who ended up sitting in the middle. But did I let it go after that? Of course I didn't. I made fun of her the entire car ride, and every time we went around a corner, I fell extra hard into her just to be a pain in the ass. I'm SO mature.

All right, everyone. I hope you’re happy and safe and having a great week. My New Year’s resolution: not to be such a blog slacker!

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Fight club

Get this: Thursday night, I throw on a skirt and notice this big bruise spanning nearly the entire width of my left thigh, right above the knee. I have no idea how or when I got it. I kinda, sorta, vaguely remember bumping into something in the middle of the night, but what else is new--I probably do that every other night.

So then Friday morning I wake up, and there are two new bruises on my right thigh in about the same place. There's also a small bruise on my right hand and another bruise on my left wrist.

Saturday morning, I wake up and the bruise on my wrist is bigger, and there's another one on my right leg. They're multiplying like jackrabbits in heat. They don't hurt. The ones on my right leg are black and blue, but the other ones started off that dull brown color, the way they usually look after they've been there a few days. I'm completely obsessed with them. Like, COMPLETELY. I look at them every two seconds. I take their pictures and hang them up on the fridge. I can't get enough of them.

So far I've resisted the temptation to Google "rapidly multiplying bruises" and see how many different, potentially fatal, blood diseases I could be suffering from, because I actually think the real explanation must be that I've been sleepwalking my way to fight club every night.

But shhhh! You know what the first rule of fight club is. I'll totally deny we had this conversation if it comes up.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

This is fun

The wonderful and talented Scribe L.A. posted this fun quiz on her blog today. I'd post the pretty-looking version, but I forgot to hit the html option. Anyway, go to that link and click "extras" to take a quiz to reveal (drum roll) ... your seduction style! If yours is anything like mine, it will at least boost your ego for a second or two. I'm a hunter. It tells me that means: "If you weren't so sweet, you'd probably scare off a lot of potential lovers with your confidence and strong sense of self. Luckily, you have a tiny little soft spot that shows through ... You're just so awesome that lovers probably chase you screaming down the street. You're that smokin'."

I could make a whole lot of depressingly self-deprecating comments in response, but I'm just going to take it for its one-second ego-boosting face value. So go take it, and tell me what you are!

Couple of other miscellaneous things:

* Have you SEEN the latest pictures of baby Shiloh? Holy crap, she's perfect-looking. I thought the rule was that two extraordinarily pretty people couldn't have an extraordinarily pretty baby. Sort of the universe's way of evening things out. But this baby is beautiful. GORGEOUS. Go here to see, because I'm scared of People suing me if I post it.

* My favoritest episode ever of Sex and the City is on! What a fun surprise. Actually, most of the episode is blah, but the last five minutes are perfect. I tried to find it on YouTube, but it's not there. Anyway, it's when Carrie runs into Aidan at the opening of Steve's bar. He's outside smoking a cigar, and she drops her fork, and he feeds her a bite of cake and HOLY FREAKING SEXUAL TENSION!!! It's amazing that my TV doesn't burst into flames when it's on. John Corbett looks absolutely, unbelievably you-know-whattable, and they just LOOK at each other and AHHHHHHH. Seriously one of my favorite parts ever. I've watched it a thousand times. It took me weeks to find the song that played in the background. All I had to go off of was "Do you want to be in love for real?" because the rest is instrumental ... anyway, I found it, and I used to fast forward to that part of the song and BLARE it in the car. Ah. Love it.

* I keep trying to post comments and Blogger won't let me! It's very hit and miss. But I'm still reading your blogs!

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Why I love Secret Santa

This week at work we're doing Secret Santa. We do three little presents from Tuesday-Thursday and then a bigger one on Friday. I LOVE Secret Santa. What's not to love when you walk into work and see this on your desk?

Clearly I have the very best Secret Santa in the building! The only way it would have been more perfect is if there had been a bathtub full of bubbles right next to it.

(The Oreos are gone now, by the way. As if there was ever any doubt. I got help eating them, though, I promise!)

We had to fill out a little slip of paper with stuff like our favorite treat, our favorite guilty pleasure, our favorite team. I put Team Jolie, although I don't think that's what they had in mind. Speaking of which, Miss Angelina was all over the place today. She was on the Barbara Walters special, and then did you see the interview excerpts from Vogue? It's the first time she's talked about Brad in any detail. Naturally, I'm riveted, and I might even blog about it tomorrow.

But right now I have trashy tabloids to read!

Monday, December 11, 2006

I have mad skills

So I'm running errands over the weekend, and I'm on my second trip to Walmart (with a trip to Target sandwiched in between). It's packed, and I want to get the HELL out of there, so I grab what they didn't have at Target and go to the self-checkout line, which is always faster. Unless, of course, you get stuck behind the idiot who can't process the idea of swiping stuff himself, which invariably happens to me, but USUALLY it's quicker.

I alternate hands as I swipe the stuff and drop it in the bag. Beep, drop, beep, drop. Wham bam, thank you, ma'am.

"You're very good at that," says the guy behind me. "Really quick."

That's right. Someone actually COMPLIMENTED me on my SELF-CHECKOUT SKILLS. I've often prided myself on my speediness at the self-checkout, but to have someone ELSE notice? That's beyond big-time. And I'm not even professionally trained!

Another tag later ... I have to work verrrry late tonight, so it'll be late, but I'll do it. Happy Monday, everyone!

(**Update: It's 2:10 freaking a.m. and I think I might die if I don't go to bed, so I promise something new tomorrow. Promise!)

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Next up ... Christmas!

This tag is courtesy of the lovely Trish Ryan. I'm hoping it will put me in more of a Christmas spirit since, with 16 days and counting, I have yet to buy a present or decorate a thing!

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Definitely hot chocolate, but I like some kind of flavor in it, like cinnamon or hazelnut or caramel. Whipped cream on top doesn't hurt, either!

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? Seriously? There are people who just stack presents under the tree? Even a brand-new bike should get a sheet over it or something!

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? When I decorate (this is making me feel bad ... I'm gonna have to pull out the boxes of lights!) I hang white lights and use colored on the tree.

4. Do you hang mistletoe? I haven't in a few years, but I'm definitely pro-mistletoe. One year in college, all of my roomates and I stayed in town for Thanksgiving, and I dragged my one roommate to every store imaginable the day after Thanksgiving looking for mistletoe. We went EVERYWHERE. We FINALLY found some, and believe me, it was used!

5. When do you put your decorations up? Um. Yeah. (I actually was going to Thanksgiving weekend, but I didn't. And then last weekend I was too cranky from the snow and ice. Today! I'll do it today!)

6. What is your favorite holiday dish? We have crab legs and shrimp every Christmas Eve and I looooove it!

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child? I got a desk when I was, like, six, maybe? My dad made it, and it was the best thing ever. I still have it in my bedroom.

8. When did you learn the truth about Santa? I actually remember this very vividly. I already knew, but I didn't want to make my parents feel bad or ruin the fun for my siblings, so I kept it a secret. Then, one night, my parents got my brother and I out of bed and gave us each a bowl of popcorn (presumably to soften the blow) and broke the news. My brother cried.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? I actually exchange presents with my siblings on Christmas Eve, so there are lots of presents opened.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree? It's mostly lights. There are like two ornaments on it.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it? I hate winter weather! Snow is fine the week before Christmas, but after that I'm done.

12. Can you ice skate? HELL to the NO! I think it's the worst thing ever. It seriously is not fun for me. One of my old boyfriends played hockey and kept trying to teach me, and to this day, I swear it's a miracle I never slit his throat with an ice skate.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? I've had a lot of favorites. Anything that shows some thought ranks pretty high.

14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you? Not to sound Scrooge-y (OK, fine, it's Scrooge-y!), but the past couple of years I've just been happy to get them over with! OK, really--it's the only time all year the whole family's home, so that's fun.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert? My mom's homemade caramels.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? My sisters and I always go to the mall on Christmas Eve, even if we're done shopping and even though it's a madhouse. You never know when you'll find something great on sale!

17. What tops your tree? My tree: a red bow. My parents' tree: the tackiest star you'll ever see, picked out by my baby brother when he was five.

18. Which do you prefer: giving or receiving? I really do enjoy picking things out for people, but I like to get, too!

19. What is your favorite Christmas song? When I was little, it was "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer." I don't know what it is now. I like a lot of the cheesy ones on the radio. For traditional songs, I like "Angels We Have Heard on High."

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum? Peppermint ones: yuck. The flavored ones: potential for yum. POTENTIAL.

OK, your turn--pick one and let's hear the answer!

Friday, December 08, 2006


I've been tagged a few times lately, and I have been woefully remiss in living up to my end of the deal. So I'll do one every day until I catch up ... I think there's four? (See! I told you! WOEFULLY REMISS!) Yeah, four. So you better come back this weekend in between your caroling and shopping and light-wrangling to read 'em!

First up: Six weird things about myself, courtesy of Drew. I don't know about WEIRD, but six things I can do.

1. I adore sticky notes. My desk is LITTERED with sticky notes. There's usually close to a dozen stuck around my desk at any given time. I have a stack of probably 50 of them with names and numbers that I keep in a drawer and call my Rolodex. And since I can never throw anything away, I keep all the sticky notes I don't need anymore in a pile off to the side.

2. I'm a weird sandwich eater. I usually end up remaking sandwiches that I buy, because I can't stand for there to be, say, three layers of ham and two layers of turkey. There has to be two of each. I don't like meat hanging off to the side, so I'll tear it off so it's even with the bread. And no lettuce or cheese or anything like that. Plain, on either wheat or rye, and I'll put on my own mustard, because I don't want it to be uneven or for there to be too much. It drives people crazy.

3. Like most Jersey girls, I did my time working in the mall during the summers and I LOVED it! I really did. It was so much fun. I was a total stock room slut. You could go hide behind all the back-to-school clothes and make out to your heart's content. I shared my stock room with the security guys, and I am here to tell you that they TOTALLY spy on girls with the cameras. Not in the dressing rooms or anything, but they totally use the cameras to follow hot girls around and zoom down their shirts. At the end of the month, when they have to hit their shoplifter quota, they get down to business, but the rest of the time? Complete, perverted voyeurs.

4. I make pretty good chocolate chip cookies. The trick is taking them out of the oven a minute before you think you should, because then they don't get hard. I bring them to work whenever it's someone's birthday.

5. I've never gone to sleep without washing my face. Maybe when I was a little kid, but definitely not since I was, like, 9 or 10. Never, ever, ever. I could not handle it. No matter where I am, or how late it is, or how tired I am, I wash my face. (I hate brushing my teeth at night, though. I skip it a lot, or floss instead.) I'm pretty anal about certain aspects of my routine. I always pluck my eyebrows and steam my face on Monday nights. I always use a deep conditioner on Tuesday. I always work out on elliptical No. 3 at the gym, and it totally annoys me when someone else is using MY machine at MY usual time. I think it's mostly just habit or discipline or something, because I am SO not like that in other ways. Other than the sandwiches, I guess. (I do NOT have OCD! I promise!)

6. I had my appendix taken out in a town called Ogallala, Nebraska, when I was 10. We were driving across the country, and spent in the night in ... oh, I can't remember. Somewhere. Anyway, I could not stop barfing. I was running to the bathroom every five minutes, all night long, to puke. My mom got mad at me, too--she was like, "If you would just lie still on your side, you'd stop throwing up!" Yeah, Mom. When all the food was gone and I started throwing up bile, she was like, "Hmm ... maybe we should get her to a doctor." We drove for maybe an hour until it was obvious I needed to get somewhere NOW, so we stopped at the closest hospital, which was in Ogallala and looked TOTALLY ghetto from the outside, and they rushed me into surgery for an emergency appendectomy at 6 a.m. I remember a few things very clearly: I threw up my first post-surgery meal all over myself, and it was green from the nasty-ass green Jell-O. I hit the call button a thousand times and no one came, so I got out of bed and grabbed my IV and walked down the hall, dripping vomit down the front of my gown, to the nurses' station. They completely freaked out when they saw me. I remember the anesthesia didn't take at first (same thing happened when I got my wisdom teeth taken out--I totally fight it) and the doctor looking over in the operating room and going, "Why is she still awake?!?" I thought I'd done something wrong so I squeezed my eyes shut and then worried to death that they were going to cut me open while I was still conscious. I remember a whole bunch of interns coming in afterward and telling me that they observed my surgery, and one of them--this cute, cute, cute blond guy--came in later and sat with me while my parents were gone and watched some Lifetime movie with me. I LOVED HIM! (I had totally forgotten about him until Grey's Anatomy, and then I was like, he was George! A cute, blond George!) And finally, the doctor asking me if I'd had a bowel movement yet. I had no idea what he was talking about until my dad whispered "poop" to me, and then I lied and said yes so I could get discharged. I didn't poop for days after that and I was so scared I'd gotten broken somehow and I'd die because I'd lied about it.

One more thing: I had horrible poison ivy the week before, which they think MAYBE caused it, and I haven't had poison ivy since. I'm immune now! Random, right?

Anyway. You can't even see my scar and I got my ears pierced two weeks later because my mom felt bad for yelling at me when I was projectile vomiting, so it wasn't such a bad deal.

So there you have it. Six things. Come back tomorrow for ... I'm not sure what. Something!

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

I have my health

This is the problem with going a few days between blog posts: You have no idea where to start. I've written a ton, and I've realized I have yet to get to any kind of point. (This is also the problem with having a very active editor living in your brain.)

So I'll get rid of all that for now and just say this: It should come as no surprise, considering my well-documented affinity for Meredith Grey, that I was a big Ally McBeal fan once upon a time. I looooved the first season. I didn't really care for the subsequent seasons, and I stopped watching for good once Billy died, but I adored that first season. Anyway, in one scene, Ally literally bangs her head against the wall. "I have my health," she says. Thud. "I have my health." Thud. "I have my health." Thud.

That was me last week: I have my health. Thud.

I'll give you one example. Of course, the snow and ice that hit half of America hit Swishyville. If I were in third grade, that would have been great news. But I'm not, so it wasn't. As if it wasn't bad enough that I had to go to work like normal, as if it wasn't bad enough that it took me an hour to slide the few miles home, as if it wasn't bad enough that it took me another hour just to GET INSIDE my ice-covered car the next morning (bowl of hot water and all). As if that all wasn't bad enough ...

I go to make a fire. Because that's what you do, right, when it's 10 degrees and everything outside is covered in ice? I get the wood, pull out the newspaper, open the flue ... and a dead bird falls down the chimney. That's right. A dead bird. A DEAD, FROZEN BIRD. All I want is to try to chill out and relax after a sort of craptacular day, and now I have a DEAD, FROZEN BIRD IN MY LIVING ROOM.

I freeze for a second in absolute horror. Then I run into the kitchen. I can't move, I can't think. All I can do is stand there with my arms clenched at my sides, staring at my fireplace. I HAVE to do something, and not just because I can't make a fire with a dead bird sitting in the fireplace. It's a DEAD BIRD, in my LIVING ROOM, one that's probably all DISEASED and stuff.

What I did next is seriously one of the bravest things I've ever done. I opened up a plastic grocery bag as wide as it would go and laid it by the fireplace. Then I got two wire hangers and used them as makeshift tongs to pick up the bird's frozen, diseased little carcass, and dropped it into the bag. And then I ran across the room and threw the bag, the hangers and the bird out the front door.

Of course, after all that, I couldn't get a fire going. OF COURSE I couldn't, because that's the kind of week it was. I did, however, successfully smoke up my apartment. So there's that.

I'm sooo glad it's a new week.

(P.S. I feel like this is a little bit of a copout post all things considered, but like I said, I don't quite know where to start. Maybe later this week, huh?)

Friday, December 01, 2006

I give up

I totally just wrote a long post. It was all done, except for the pictures I was uploading. And then BOOM--bye, bye Explorer. It just disappeared. No error message or anything. GONE. I very calmly got up and walked into the next room just to give Explorer a chance to give me back my post and NOPE. Still gone. Thank you, IE. Thank you, Blogger. You suck.

It's 2:30 a.m. and I'm debating if I should recreate or just bag it and go to bed. It was basically me bitching, so you're not missing out on much, but there was a good story or two in there, too. CRAP! I hate when that happens.

OK. I can't. I have to try to go to bed, because I have to get up early so I can schlep to work in the ice and snow and try not to get myself killed in my very winter weather unfriendly car. But if I can't sleep, I will.