It ain't eggs

[evilhippo]

Ehrm... I think this song is on our CD at work, or at least something that sounds similar, because every time I hear the "It ain't pretty" line, I mentally insert "[if] it ain't eggs" and continue fom there with "it ain't breakfast", despite the fact that the songs aren't the same at all. Maybe, maybe there might be something similar in the tune somewhere. Kind of like last night, when this guy was leaving the box office between sets, and he had a full head of grey hair and was in a black jacket... for some reason he was replaced with Mark Twain. A closer look at him revelealed he looked nothing like Mark Twain... but, well, my imagination's pretty powerful when I just glance at someone, I guess. Because holy crap, it looked like it was Mark Twain out there. No wonder my managers think I'm weird.

Oh? And that Nickelback "Photograph" song? Dear goodness, radio, stop it. It's in commercials, too. And it's not good! Oh, and September was over what, three months ago? You can stop overplaying that, too.

Two random points of advice I have for people: If you wear your socks around inside without shoes all the time like I do, don't wash them inside-out... all the stuff just gets stuck on the inside and it's still on your sock when you wear them again. For some reason, this idea hasn't struck my mom yet. Also, if you need toothpicks to test to see if something is done baking and you don't have any, dry spaghetti works almost as well. (As do chopsticks, if you don't mind gaping holes in the top of your confection.)

Also, I'm starting a war on ten year-old boys. Well, young boys around that age. They're stupid. After the idiotic ones we had last night in the theatre, I was less than amused... then today I was in Pac Sun wandering around (wasting time, since I had errands at the mall and didn't want to head home yet) and one of them walked in, sneered at me, and called me a prep! Little boy, don't be an idiot. Just because I'm not wearing a Metallica shirt and shower once in a while (I'm a girl goshdarnit, I'm supposed to be clean) doesn't make me a prep. Also, you're ten and I'm twice your height and age. I could throw you. If you're old enough to give me a hard time, I get to throw you. And when you're hanging upside down from a rack of skater-punk clothes, maybe you'll realize why. Just because I wear collared shirts under my t-shirts. Pah. You're not cool. Maybe if ten-year-olds came in emo, that'd be okay. But they don't. Awww, ten-year-old emo kids would be adorable. But nooo, they all come in obnoxious and dirty. You probably have to hit puberty to be emo. I should do a study on this.

I had a bizarre dream last night... (what a surprise!) I haven't been writing them down lately, though, so I've been having trouble remembering them later. In an effort to fix this I'll have to talk about it now.

The first part that comes to mind took place in this big parking lot... sort of a stip mall sort of place, but there was an oasis in the middle (with a pool and palm trees, even though it was definitely only about fifty outside). I had my laptop with me, which was now happily hooked back up to the university network, so I got back in IRC only to be greeted by a conversation about me... except people didn't remember who I was, and didn't notice they were talking about me. Then I decided I'd just pretend I was Mark Zuckerberg (the creator of thefacebook.com, if memory serves)... and then Bill Gates for a bit, though that didn't work as well. From there I ended up in a store selling Halloween costumes. It turns out I was actually in the sequel to Freddy vs. Jason... the premise of which being that two seemingly innocent guys bought possessed Halloween masks and turned into Freddy and Jason. ... Yeah. I was supposed to know the guy who was possessed by Freddy, but I got distracted by ending up in my bathroom instead of the next aisle over while he was following me. I walked out of the bathroom and sat down on my couch next to my mom, who was on the computer. The couch was turned sideways so as I was laying on it I could look out the window, and the big rubber tree was missing. (Which screams Plot Point, doesn't it?) As I was talking to her, all of a sudden this big burly, dark-haired lumberjack-looking guy appears in the window. Freaking spooky-looking guy with really, really dark eyes, and sort of the hair and facial structure of my one manager's boyfriend. I immediately know that he's going to kick in the big front window with his lumberjack boots... so as soon as the thought crosses my mind he does. I tried to scream but couldn't, and someone who may have been my sister yelled "It's a nightmare!" and I woke up. It must've been sixish, since it wasn't completely light out yet but people were awake, so I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep... and for some reason I ended up back in the living room. Usually I continue my dreams when I go back to sleep, unless they scared the crap out of me. This one? Scared the crap out of me! But for some reason, anyway, I was back in the living room, and this guy was just sort of standing over me, looking menacing, so Hughes shows up and knifes him for me. But there are dozens of him, so I have to mentally build a brick wall around the house as Hughes fends them off, and then somehow we escaped and I stopped dreaming for a while. I'm not sure at all what that means... but hopefully that creepy lumberjack is gone.

Then I woke up this morning with cramps. I think I'm going to have to file an injunction against my uterus, because this Week Early Every Month thing is starting to get rather annoying. I sort of knew it was coming after my incredibly crappy mood on Tuesday, and I had cramps a bit yesterday... both of which are really weird because I rarely get that hormonal, and my cramps usually start after. I hope nothing's wrong with me... I don't want to have to go to a gyno or something. That's scary! And they'd probably try to put me on the pill... which would be scarier. Even if my own hormones are screwed up, I don't think I want to do that. Too many random side-effects, and I also know some people who did not deal well with being on i. At least I can deal with my own hormones since they're, you know, mine. But gah and arghblargh, if my cycle doesn't settle itself the heck down I'm going to have something removed or something. (Hear that, uterus? That is a threat! Keep this crap up and I'll have you removed!) Grr grr grr. I was doing well most of this year... regular, almost no cramps, general yay. This is probably revenge or something.

And, as a parting note, driving through post-holiday traffic while listening to Pirates of Penzance? Really, really weird. And sort of cool. Yay public radio. (Though my mom made fun of me for having it on when I picked her up for lunch.)

Comments

[solitaryjane.livejournal.com]

Wow. I've never heard someone complain in so much detail about her uterus on lj before. And I thought *I* hate being a girl. Just take Advil. A lot of it.

[evilhippo.livejournal.com]

You're kidding, right? Oh, there have been much, much worse. Tomes, novels, entire volumes. In fact, I think a few days ago on metaquotes there was a really long series of letters back and forth between someone and her uterus.

And this is an exceptional case. Usually my uterus behaves itself. I figured I'd call it on this in public, and see if it shaped up.

And sadly, Advil doesn't work. >_