Waiting for My Real Life to Begin

The life and times of a girl named Swishy.

Monday, June 29, 2009

I can't believe I'm putting this on my blog

I feel like when you move somewhere with someone--spouse, kid, roommate, whatever--there is still at least one person around who knows all about you. Moving alone is a little different, and lately it has been bothering me a little bit that no one here really knows me that well ... you know, like, REALLY really. I mean, I have friends, I hang out with people, but there isn't anyone here who knew me this time last year, and it's WEIRD. It kind of wears me out sometimes, to be honest--I feel like I am constantly explaining myself, the way that I am and the way that I think about things because people don't know it yet. Only I don't always do it very well because I am a little bit of a hard person to get to know anyway. I'm pretty friendly and chatty so sometimes it takes people awhile to realize that, but I don't know, that's just how I am.

Which is why it just warms my soul, from the hair on my head right down to my tippy toes, when I talk to someone who DOES know me and all my quirks. When someone can send me this video, this absolutely ridiculous, nonsensical, pointless video and just KNOW it will make me laugh for exact reasons unknown to either of us.

Like, WHAT is this video? Why would anyone MAKE it, let alone WATCH it, let alone SEND it to another person? But my friend did, and it made me laugh, and I watched it again like 10 times while we were talking. ("Pervert," he said. HA.) It's that look the guy gets at the 20-second mark, it just cracks me up.

So there you go. Smoking, singing shower guy. Happy Monday, everyone!

Monday, June 22, 2009

The ubiquitous Jon and Kate

So. I am about as sick of Jon and Kate as the next person (seriously, People magazine? TWO COVERS?), but of course I'm going to be glued to my TV tonight with the rest of the crazy people to see what their "big announcement" is going to be. I first watched the show during one of those marathons TLC loves to do about a year and a half ago. I was flipping channels and having kind of a sad day, and I ended up watching like three hours of it because it made me feel better.

I watched an old episode the other night, where Jon made everyone a traditional Korean dinner, and I couldn't believe how different it was then compared to now. They had a normal house, wore normal clothes, lived a normal life. Kate was less blonde, less tan, less toned, and Jon was goofy and a little clueless, and they just seemed happy.

It was so awkward watching the season premiere this year, because she's sooo pissed and he's sooo defensive and it is just really sad. I think when a relationship starts to crack, there's a natural tendency to want to go back and point out all of the reasons why it was flawed from the beginning, how the writing was on the wall, maybe because we don't want to admit how easily something good can turn into something bad. But you know what? They really WERE happy, and you can see it, just like you can see how unhappy they are now.

So I hope they don't announce that they're breaking up. I hope they announce that they're going to stop doing the show after the season, go away for a long time and just try to get their lives back. I don't really know if that's possible. I think sometimes there are Pandora's boxes in life and once you open them, it's really, really hard to close them again. But I sort of hope they can close theirs.

(Watch them announce that they're going to, like, go on vacation or something. That would be SO LAME. Hello, I am Swishy, and I am part of the problem. I know, I know.)


Update: I am just about to watch the show, but I guess the news is already out. Sad.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

It's a texture thing

I'm at Moe's, ordering a chicken soft taco.

Him: Cheese?
Me: Just a tiny, tiny pinch. Tiny bit.
He sprinkles on a little bit of cheese and looks up: More?
Me: Nope, that's perfect, thank you.

He looks at me like, you are such a weirdo, what is the point of even PUTTING cheese on your taco if that's all you're going to have?

Him: Lettuce? Tomato?
Me: Nope, that's great, thank you.
Him, folding up the taco: Anything else?
Me: Yeah ... can I get a side of queso?

He looks at me like, OK, now you really ARE a weirdo.

Him: You know that queso is cheese, right?
Me: I know, I know.
Him: You know that's a little unusual, right?
Me: What can I say, I'm one big contradiction.
Him: Keeps them guessing, huh?

Ohhhh, yes. Swishy, woman of mystery.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

South of the border

I am back and I did not die of swine flu! Yay! I did, however, end up working about as many hours as I missed when I got back, which is why it has taken me forever and a day to post about my non-death.

Sigh. Anyway.

First of all, the quick overview: I went with a couple of friends, and we flew down Thursday and came back Monday. It was my first real vacation-vacation in like four years, and I had such a lovely time. We did nothing. Nothing, nothing, nuhhhhhhhhh-thing, unless you count getting out of bed, eating, dragging a chair into the ocean and sleeping/reading all day as something, in which case we did a LOT.

The room:

The view from where we ate lunch every day:

The form I had to fill out upon both arrival and departure, which apparently was sufficient enough to award me with a clean bill of health:

Of course, you know I had to have my little calamaties thrown in here and there. There was a little bit of an issue checking in, during which I got to spend 20 fantastic minutes on hold with Expedia customer service, staring at the ocean but SO. FAR. AWAY. from it, but whatever, not the end of the world. Much more traumatic was my toilet paper experience. As in, I went into the lobby bathroom, practically hopping up and down I had to pee so bad, emptied about a gallon's worth of pina coladas and Diet Coke from my bladder (definitely no water, because while the bathrooms were lovely, I didn't want to spend THAT much time in them) only to find ... there was no toilet paper. THAT experience.

The first thing you usually do in those situations is see if there is a friendly soul in the stall next to you who can pass some toilet paper over the door. No dice. Next, I looked in my bag for a Kleenex, a napkin, a crumpled piece of paper with my pre-trip to-do list, ANYTHING. Nope.

(I had JUST SHOWERED. Not using some form of toilet paper was NOT AN OPTION.)

I tried reaching under the stall into the stall next to mine. I crouched on the floor, coming dangerously close to pulling a Britney on anyone who dared walk in, and almost popped my shoulder out of its socket reaching around for the toilet paper dispenser on the wall. Finally, FINALLY, my fingers found the plastic edge of the dispenser. I reached in and ...


Meanwhile, my friend was outside waiting for me, and I started to calculate how long it would take for her to come in and rescue me. Five minutes? Five hours? Would she be swept off her feet by a dashing Latin lover and forget all about me? Would I DIE here, the stubborn girl who forgot the cardinal rule of public bathrooms: CHECK FOR TOILET PAPER FIRST.

The door clanged open. "Excuse me?" I said. No response. I tried again. "Excuse me?" In my head, I'm like, how do you say toilet paper, how do you say toilet paper, WHY DO I NOT REMEMBER HOW DO SAY TOILET PAPER FROM NINTH-GRADE SPANISH?

And then the toilet flushed and I grabbed my chance. I pulled my dress tight around my knees, leaned forward and swung open the door. "Hi," I said. "Can you, um, pass me some toilet paper?" She was beautifully dressed, and looked at me for a second like, you've seriously, SERIOUSLY, got to be kidding me. And then she ripped off a piece, threw it in my general direction and ran away.

I did not use that bathroom again for the rest of the trip.

The other thing that happened was on the morning we left. I woke up, my face all mashed into the pillow, and was like, "I feel like I have a fat lip." I sat up and ran my tongue across my lips. "Oh, yeah," I said. "I DEFINITELY have a fat lip." I had a million mosquito bites from the night before, so naturally my first glass-half-full reaction was that it was some rare strain of some horrible disease, but really, they were just puffy from my sitting in salt water for eight hours ... and BONUS! I had Angelina Jolie lips for a morning!

A couple more pictures because I am obnoxious like that:

The sand castle I started to build on the beach.