Spanx you very much

I bought some Spanx (a Spanx?) a while ago and wore them once. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Spanx, they come in various forms and mine just happen to go down to the knees and up to my bra strap. The idea is that they will help you look slimmer and trimmer while smoothing the squishy parts. This only seems to work for people who are already fairly slim and trip and free of squishy parts. When I wore them earlier this week I felt like a bratwurst (probably looked like one too if you can imagine a bratwurst in a dress with snazzy red shoes) and spent the whole day fearing the Spanx would roll down, setting my squishy parts free. If feeling stifled and in fear wasn't enough, it also took twice as much time to use the restroom. Getting the Spanx off wasn't too time-consuming, but pulling them back up and making sure no squishiness was exposed, was not an easy task. Was looking decent worth the discomfort of wearing Spanx? I'm going to have to say "no" to that. Am I going to diet and exercise so I have no need of Spanx? Um, probably not. I'm just going to wait for Mrs. Roper-style kaftans to come back in style or maybe mumus. I think we're almost there really-- have you seen the maxi dress?
Thought for the day-- why does Yahoo! mail get my hopes up by telling me I have new email when I really don't?

It's my blog and I can be snide if I want to...

Several months ago I went out with a guy I met on Match.com who just happens to work where I work. After one date and a text message sent to me, but meant for someone else (in which he gushed about the great date he went on with someone who was not me), I never heard from him again. This week I ran into him twice at work (thankfully, I looked decent), I ignored him yesterday because my feet walked me away from him while my mind was telling me I knew him. Today I said "Wow, twice in one week." when I saw him. He just nodded. I really wish I'd kept his phone number in my phone because then I could have "accidentally" texted him as though I'd meant to text someone else and say "Yeah, you know that guy I went out with that works at Ingenix? I saw him and he was waaay shorter, balder and pudgier than I remember."
On an unrelated note, I will once again beg, no, plead, that if people are unable to drive and talk on the cell phone that they STOP talking on the cell phone while driving. Either they just drive erratically or they slow down (of course they're in the passing lane while this happens). It truly seems that men are more guilty of this than women. This must stop.
Thought for the day-- would "carniverous shoes" be a good band name?

Guess the old-looking people in the reunion photos weren't teachers

I did not go to any of my high school reunions. I graduated from high school in 1989 (we are great we are fine, we're the class of 89). So, this would be my 20th reunion if I actually attended. I have no desire to see any of the people I graduated with from the school I went to in Texas. I'd probably only know a few people and I'm pretty sure no one would have any idea who I am. That's certainly okay-- I don't mind missing out on all of the "fun". One of my Facebook friends did go to her 20th reunion and I actually went to elementary school with her, so I figured I'd take a peek at the reunion photos posted on Facebook to see if I saw anyone I knew. The very first thing I noticed were that the people in the photos couldn't possibly be my peers. They must be the teachers. Right? Please, oh please, let them be the teachers. I read some of the names posted under the photos and, um, they weren't the teachers. I guess it's time to face the fact that I am 38 (which is very nearly 40) and unless I decide to get Botox (oooh- let's inject poison in our wrinkles and become expressionless!) and/or some plastic surgery, I'm probably going to look my age. **sigh**
Thoughts for the day: 40 is the new 30! Age is just a number! You're only as old as you feel! I wonder if Botox really hurts that bad...

Back to work...

My day began at the ungodly hour of 4 am when I woke up with some sort of allergy attack-- sneezy, sniffly, miserable, etc. It was way too early to actually get up, but a bit too close to my wake-up time to take Benadryl. Eventually I went back to sleep and got in an extra 12 minutes of sleep before my alarm went off. I somehow made it to work in a daze and thought it might be a good idea to water my plants since I hadn't been to work in a few days. I realized after watering both the orchid and the African Violet that I'd watered them with leftover Diet Mountain Dew. For a brief moment I wondered if that might perk them up a bit or just kill them really dead. So, I dumped the soft drink out of both plant containers and watered them correctly. I was on the look-out all day for their little leaves to start twitching, but they seemed fine. The rest of my day was rather uneventful until a coworker made the mistake of leaving the office with his computer logged on and not locked. Well! How could I resist messing with his computer? I could not. I recalled a time when my mom changed her coworker's log in to "Poophead", so that when he returned his computer greeted him warmly with "Hello, Poophead!" I wasn't quite sure how to accomplish such a thing, so instead I sent an Instant Message from his computer to my coworker Shauna that said "I've always had a man-crush on Rob Geslison (another coworker)". I did give Shauna a heads up so she wasn't too concerned about the IM. When Joe returned he was very surprised to see what he had sent to Shauna. He then went about questioning 3 other coworkers, including Rob Geslison. Although he was very confused about why Rob would send that IM unless he was secretly hoping that Joe had a man-crush on him. Anywho... Joe never suspected that I would do such a thing. I can't wait until he leaves his computer unattended again!
Thought for the day-- For the love of all that is holy, if you are going to just go the speed limit or slower, stay out of the passing lane unless you are passing someone which may be difficult to do if you are going so slow!

Random ramblings...

So, as you may know I'm taking a break from online dating. However, I still check out my Yahoo! Personals account to see if the man of my dreams might just happen to send me a message. I went into Yahoo! Personals today and noticed 4 guys had viewed my profile. I know you're on the edge of your seat just waiting to discover who took the time to view my profile. Two of the gentlemen were in their late 50's, one did not speak English as a first language and the 49-year old guy with his profile in all caps who was looking for someone to spend "a quite night" with. I think he meant "quiet", but then again he could be hoping to have a quite a night. Needless to say, the online dating break continues.
This evening I decided that, in spite of the 50 mile-an-hour winds, I should do my recycling. Currently I only recycle newspapers, phone books, magazines, etc., so I put them in my vehicle and went to a school down the road to throw them in the bin. I pulled up to the bin, got out of my car and noticed a decent looking guy in a very new and fancy black truck pull up as though he, too, was about to recycle. I wondered if he might be single and wouldn't it be so nice to meet someone who also recycled (not a quality currently on my "love list", but maybe it should be). Right about then a bunch of my papers blew away. I tried to catch them, gracefully I'm sure, as truck-guy then drove to the other end of the parking lot to watch from a safe distance. I'm sure I was a sight to behold, running around, grabbing papers as the wind scattered them. I caught the papers that I could reach all the while thinking that littering was probably worse than not recycling. I was pretty humiliated at that point thanks to my audience who didn't even try to help me collect my papers. I just drove off, stopping to pick up a few more papers along the way and then decided to finish my recycling without any witnesses. Somehow I doubt I'll see anything in City Weekly's "I saw you..." section from truck-guy.
Thought for the day-- hover is not the same as Hoover and anyone who says Hoover when they mean hover is really kind of a dummy head. Yes, I said dummy head. I apologize for my potty mouth.

Too lazy to write something new

Yes, you may have already seen this, but hopefully it's been a while...
Let This be a Warning

I sent this out to friends and family, it nicely summarizes the laser hair ordeal I went through:
I had my first laser hair removal ordeal yesterday. Yes, it was an ordeal. I'm tempted to use the phrase "laser hair removal attack", but I don't want to frighten anyone. It was not pleasant. I should have known that when you are offered valium prior to a procedure, there's a reason. I was also given a topical numbing lotion to put on some of the areas to be lasered. I should have asked for an epidural and maybe some whiskey.
The first area to be lasered were my underarms. I was zapped and when I didn't flinch, they upped the voltage. Now, I was told that it would feel like I was being snapped with a rubberband. It does not feel like that at all-- it felt like my hair follicles were being electrocuted, probably because they were. I squirmed and whimpered, but figured the worst was over when they were done.
And then, the few stray hairs on my face were zapped. I know areas were zapped that didn't even sprout hair. Those areas certainly won't be producing any hair now. I have never felt so much pain in my entire life. I have not gone through labor, but I did have a kidney stone. I would honestly prefer to have my kidney stone back vs. having laser hair removal on my face. I must confess I yelled an expletive (rhymes with spit) and burst into tears. I cried some more and was able to walk it off. Not only was I thinking how much pain was being inflicted upon me, but I was actually paying to be put through this. If Al Quaeda had their facial hair lasered, they would tell us where Bin Laden is and anything else we might need to know. That might be cruel and unusual punishment though.
I then had to return to the torture room to have the hair follicles in my bikini area and lower legs electrocuted. The bikini area was not nearly as bad as the underarms and face and there were no more tears or expletives yelled. I did practice some lamaze breathing and asked if they'd consider hiring a doolah (or whatever those labor coaches are called) for my next visit. Oh yes, I have to go back five more times. I was assured that the second visit would be about as painful as the first, but that the remaining visits wouldn't hurt that bad. Right. I figured the legs wouldn't hurt too much. I figured wrong. To be honest, there were areas of the legs that smarted, but having hair removed from the shins, knee and ankle area was extremely unpleasant.
Next time I will find someone to take me to my appointment so I can have a double dose of valium. I wonder if I could get some morphine too. Hmmmmm....