Smorgasbord 020. [My eyes just rolled out of my head edition]

EDIT: I had to add this gem from an insurance document. This isn’t taken out of any meaningful context.
               “You will remain insured only until your insurance ends.”
I would love to find out what lawsuit necessitated this addition.

1. “I don’t have money, I’m living paycheck to paycheck, wahhhhh!” and later, “Oooo, look at this purse I bought!”

2. If I go away for any number of days, there is one thing I can count on — nothing related to housework will be done. Dishes that were dirty when I left will still be dirty. And there will be more. And Sachi’s obviously white fur? Yup, still all over the carpet. The laundry pile will just be bigger. With things like damp towels. Living with boys has its downside.

3. “I can’t get my comforter to stay in place in my duvet, so it bunches up in one corner and I get cold!”
“I hate that, too! But you can buy these clips that hold it in place, it only costs like ten dollars.”
Um. SAFETY PINS? They sell 2″ long safety pins that will hold even the thickest of down comforters. And for damned close to free.

4. I watched Nancy Grace for the first time ever, thanks to my roommate.
      Text on screen: “New footage of rehearsal less than 48 hours before sudden death! DOES HE LOOK SICK?”
      And her reply: “He looks extremely thin and extremely pale!” Why.. Why, yes! Yes, he does, Nancy! He has for over ten years now.

5. On the radio, a grilling specialist: “Close the lid so the heat and smoke can go around the meat 365 degrees.”

Morning Standard Operating Procedure

I wake up with a pounding headache. I take a pain pill and lay in bed for another thirty minutes to an hour for it to kick in. I distract myself from the baseline headache that runs all day. At night, I dread going to sleep because I know that from the time I lay down in bed to the time I fall asleep, I will be all too aware of my pulsing headache.

Today, I haven’t able to distract myself, it’s like my skull cracked open and my brain won’t stop pulsing.

First conversation of the day:
m: Brian, how hard do you have to squeeze a brain to make it kinda squeeze through your fingers?
b: Surprisingly harder than you think.
m: Jello-y?
b: No.. It’s more.. Spongy. But tensile. If you press it with a finger, it’ll give, but if you press too hard, it’ll separate.
It’s kind of like raw liver. You cook liver, you’d know.
m: But liver’s really squishy. I only cook chicken livers.
b: Oh, then it’s like beef liver.
m: Is this with or without the membranes?

[Completely unrelated, but at my first job out of college lasted three weeks. I put in my two weeks after five days. I was hired to be a chemist. And then read standard operating procedures for making solutions. All. Fucking. Day.]

Smorgasbord 019. [Including a short play]

1. If plus sizes cost more, small sizes should cost less.

2. On the 405S just north of The Getty.

3. We were on the 405 returning from Chatsworth where Brian purchased this:

Yes, it is a damn fine piece of ass.

4. Scene: It’s Wednesday night, B and I are on our laptops in the living room. Roomie D had gone out with several of his coworkers and brought them over, two girls and one guy.
Girl1: Hi, nice to meet you, what’s your name?
m: Maki.
G1: Aww that’s cute. By the way I’ve been bugged by this all day — I don’t feel like my shirt matches my shoes.
      I got up sooo early and I was so tired and I just grabbed whatever was there.
      Do you have any shirts I can borrow?
      I mean, you know, I can give them back to D. Or what size are your feet? Can I borrow some shoes?
m: I’m a 5.5-6.
G1: Awww, that’s so cute! I have this perfect ballerina body so I’m tall and skinny, but with these huge size 9 feet.
m: ……..Okay, here, just try this. [Trying to make the crazy stop.]
G1: I’m wearing this bra underneath, can you see it?
      It’s convertible, I’ll just take the straps off.
      [whips off shirt, turns her back to me]
      Can you unclasp the straps back there? I mean, I don’t usually ask people I just met to do this, but you’re D’s roommate and all.
m: ….. [She and D had known each other for two weeks. And D and I had known each other for two weeks.]

To be honest, she did have a ballet body and a nice rack. But still. It was like a tornado of CWG [crazy white girl] passed by and I let it whelm me.

5. The guy who D brought over laid down on the carpet in the living room. While I was in the bedroom undoing CWG’s straps, I heard Brian, “Baby? Maki? Come here, quick, bring the cleaning stuff.” Dude had started vomiting on the carpet, tried to run for the sink and in the process, using centrifugal force, splattered the kitchen floor, microwave, oven, trash bucket, step stool, counters, and the burners. It was a “But HOW?” moment.
     After the guy had stopped heaving, he and the Girl2 who was helping [not very well] wipe up walked back onto the carpet in their shoes and tracked it around. And then, it turned into “But WHY?”. Common sense ≠ common.
     At that point, D walked in, saw the situation, and became absolutely mortified. Strangely, the entire time, the guy didn’t say anything besides, “I gotta go, man, my girl’s waiting, I gotta go.” Later, when D came home, he kept apologizing and said that he tore him a new one for one, not being on at the very least the tiled surface if he was that sick, and two, being disrespectful. We have a good roomie.
     The worst was when I was wiping up and I said, “It smells like dairy. And corn chips. Oh, like nachos!” and Brian said, “Yeah, D said they had Mexican food.” Sometimes, I hate being right. We’re going to get our carpet cleaned.

And so, our Wednesday night went from quiet to WHATTHEFUCKISGOINGON in a split second. This is why I’m not very good with people.