Quotes from the conductor of the L-train I was on today:
-People, get on the train behind me, this one isn't air conditioned. You'll be hot.
-People, get in so I can close the door.
-Get on the next train because you'll suffocate from the heat inside this non-air conditioned train.
-We're not moving because the train in front of us isn't moving.
-We'll move as soon as the train in front of us gets it's power back.
-The engineers are working on the system and making sure the trains move on schedule but it's putting so much pressure on the trains that we're not moving anywhere.
-Thank you for your patience.
-It's getting hot in here.
Good god, after two hours, TWO F**KING HOURS, of sitting on that train did I finally get off at my stop and walk through the door of my apartment.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
be careful what you speak
Being a manicurist for the last 10 years, I hate it when I see that someone did not take care of his/her nails and toenails. It's my pet peeve, I guess, to see ragged nails with cuticles splitting and nails bitten down to the nubs. And for the ladies, it's just wrong to wear open toe sandels and have your feet look like a wreck. Wrong, I tell you! Wrong!
Okay, and now to the point of the story. Ever since I moved to San Francisco, I started going to the nail salons and pay for a pedicure because my mother is 3,000 miles away and I can't just stop into her salon and say "Mommy, I want a pedicure and I'll give you one in return." And I just hate bending over for an hour trying to put red nail polish on my toenails. Recently, I got the Boy to get a pedicure with me because I'll nag him until kingdom come if he doesn't trim his toe nails. So here's the scene, we're both in a nail salon, owned and employed by Vietnamese people (surprise!) and I asked, in English, if they had time to do two pedicures. They were able to seat us right away, and side by side we sat. The woman working on the Boy is Nail Lady #1 and the woman working on me if Nail Lady #2.
Nail Lady #1 first sat down in front of me, but took one look at me and decided to work on the Boy instead. Not thinking anything of it, I continue reading People magazine. The Boy is reading some magazine about import cars. As soon as Nail Lady #2 starts taking off the polish on my toenails, Nail Lady #1 starts talking to her in Vietnamese.
NL#1: [in Vietnamese] This guy has really nice feet. It's clean and not dirty like that other guy I did yesterday.
NL#2: [in Vietnamese] I know, some people have such disgusting feet, you have to clean your own hands in alcohol afterwards.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting in my chair, laughing behind a magazine because they just commented about the Boy's feet. The Boy is looking at me asking me what they just said because he thinks they're talking about him. I quietly translate the conversation to him without giving away the fact that I can understand every single Vietnamese conversation in the entire salon.
NL#1: [in Vietnamese] His feet is so soft too. But he's got really hairy legs though.
NL#2: [in Vietnamese] He's white, what did you expect? White people are hairy.
About twenty minutes into the pedicure...
NL#1: [in Vietnamese] You know, I keep smiling at the lady you're working on and she doesn't smile back.
NL#2: [in Vietnamese] Maybe she's having a bad day.
NL#1: [in Vietnamese] Maybe she's just a bitch and is being really pissy. Who doesn't smile when someone else smiles back? That's just rude.
--okay, I understood what she was saying. I was trying really hard not to laugh but at the same time I thought to myself, "Did she just call me a bitch for not smiling?" I kept a straight face and kept looking at Nail Lady #2 to make sure she didn't bleed me with the cuticle clippers.
NL#2: [in Vietnamese] You know somethings is weird here...
Nail Lady #2 then looks at me and asks in English: Are you Chinese?
Me: [in Vietnamese] Um, no, I'm Vietnamese.
--at this moment, Nail Lady #1 is completely shocked to hear fluent Vietnamese coming out of my mouth, and she realizes that I understood everything she just said, so she starts hiding her face behind her arms. Nail Lady #2 is telling Nail Lady #1 that she should have watched her mouth and now she's being embarassed by it and she's surprised that she couldn't tell I was Vietnamese in the first place.
The Boy interjects when he realizes what just happened, and he tells Nail Lady #1: [in English] You should watch what you say because you never know who's listening.
We all had a good laugh and I carried on a conversation with the two nail ladies as they were finishing up our pedicure. I kept reassuring Nail Lady #1 that there were no hard feelings and people say that about me all the time (that I look like a total bitch when I'm not smiling) so she shouldn't be embarassed about it.
And after our pedicures were finished, we left the salon and the Boy said to me: You're sick. You enjoy torturing those people and that's why you never announce that you're Vietnamese whenever we go to a nail salon.
Me: Heh, it's funny. Gives something to blog about.
Okay, and now to the point of the story. Ever since I moved to San Francisco, I started going to the nail salons and pay for a pedicure because my mother is 3,000 miles away and I can't just stop into her salon and say "Mommy, I want a pedicure and I'll give you one in return." And I just hate bending over for an hour trying to put red nail polish on my toenails. Recently, I got the Boy to get a pedicure with me because I'll nag him until kingdom come if he doesn't trim his toe nails. So here's the scene, we're both in a nail salon, owned and employed by Vietnamese people (surprise!) and I asked, in English, if they had time to do two pedicures. They were able to seat us right away, and side by side we sat. The woman working on the Boy is Nail Lady #1 and the woman working on me if Nail Lady #2.
Nail Lady #1 first sat down in front of me, but took one look at me and decided to work on the Boy instead. Not thinking anything of it, I continue reading People magazine. The Boy is reading some magazine about import cars. As soon as Nail Lady #2 starts taking off the polish on my toenails, Nail Lady #1 starts talking to her in Vietnamese.
NL#1: [in Vietnamese] This guy has really nice feet. It's clean and not dirty like that other guy I did yesterday.
NL#2: [in Vietnamese] I know, some people have such disgusting feet, you have to clean your own hands in alcohol afterwards.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting in my chair, laughing behind a magazine because they just commented about the Boy's feet. The Boy is looking at me asking me what they just said because he thinks they're talking about him. I quietly translate the conversation to him without giving away the fact that I can understand every single Vietnamese conversation in the entire salon.
NL#1: [in Vietnamese] His feet is so soft too. But he's got really hairy legs though.
NL#2: [in Vietnamese] He's white, what did you expect? White people are hairy.
About twenty minutes into the pedicure...
NL#1: [in Vietnamese] You know, I keep smiling at the lady you're working on and she doesn't smile back.
NL#2: [in Vietnamese] Maybe she's having a bad day.
NL#1: [in Vietnamese] Maybe she's just a bitch and is being really pissy. Who doesn't smile when someone else smiles back? That's just rude.
--okay, I understood what she was saying. I was trying really hard not to laugh but at the same time I thought to myself, "Did she just call me a bitch for not smiling?" I kept a straight face and kept looking at Nail Lady #2 to make sure she didn't bleed me with the cuticle clippers.
NL#2: [in Vietnamese] You know somethings is weird here...
Nail Lady #2 then looks at me and asks in English: Are you Chinese?
Me: [in Vietnamese] Um, no, I'm Vietnamese.
--at this moment, Nail Lady #1 is completely shocked to hear fluent Vietnamese coming out of my mouth, and she realizes that I understood everything she just said, so she starts hiding her face behind her arms. Nail Lady #2 is telling Nail Lady #1 that she should have watched her mouth and now she's being embarassed by it and she's surprised that she couldn't tell I was Vietnamese in the first place.
The Boy interjects when he realizes what just happened, and he tells Nail Lady #1: [in English] You should watch what you say because you never know who's listening.
We all had a good laugh and I carried on a conversation with the two nail ladies as they were finishing up our pedicure. I kept reassuring Nail Lady #1 that there were no hard feelings and people say that about me all the time (that I look like a total bitch when I'm not smiling) so she shouldn't be embarassed about it.
And after our pedicures were finished, we left the salon and the Boy said to me: You're sick. You enjoy torturing those people and that's why you never announce that you're Vietnamese whenever we go to a nail salon.
Me: Heh, it's funny. Gives something to blog about.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Do I look like a receptionist to you?
As I was walking into the gym this morning, the guy behind the front counter slammed down the phone and angrily whispered "I hate the fucking phones!" Then he looked up at me, embarassed that I had just witnessed what he did and said.
"Don't worry about it, after this week, I will hate the fucking phones too," I told him as he scanned my card and wished me a good work-out.
------------------------------
---Monday, 8:45am, I turn down the hallway towards the office and notice the doors were closed. Great, that usually means that our receptionist is not coming in. So I opened up the doors, switched the phones on and walked back to my desk to drop off my things. Just as I was putting my things away, the officer manager comes running out of her office to find me.
Office Manager: [the receptionist] called in sick this morning. And [the paralegal] is on vacation. The temp doesn't get in until 9. Can you work out covering the phones with her when she gets in?
Me: Um, sure. Who else will do it? [note: there was no other staff in the office.]
Office Manager: Well, the phones won't get answered then if you won't do it.
Me: Um, that was a rhetorical question.
So on Monday, I ended up covering the phones from 8:45 to noon, then from 2 until 5, all the while running back and forth from my desk at the end of the office to the front desk to the copy room, etc., etc.
---Tuesday, 8:30am, I walk down the hallway and see that the office doors are fully open, only I hear loud hacking from beyond the doors. I thought to myself that I would probably be covering the phones all day again. I smile at him as I walk to my desk and settle down. And what do you know? I get an email from the receptionist saying that he wasn't feeling well and he wanted to leave early so can someone please watch the phones. He sent this email to all the staff knowing that I was the only one in the office during the mornings because 1) the paralegal is on vacation, 2) the other assistant doesn't start until 2, and 3) the temp doesn't get in until 9am. I ignored the email, not just out of spite but because I was truly busy from catching up with Monday's work.
It turns out the temp couldn't come in until 11, so the receptionist agreed to stay until the temp comes in so that I can get actual work done on my cases. 11:30 rolls around and the temp still isn't in but the receptionist keeps whining about wanting to go home so the office manager made me abandon my desk to watch the phones. Then it's 12:15 and the temp is still not in and I'm getting hungry. The office manager walks by and tells me she's going to lunch but I had to ask her how am I going to get lunch is no one else is here to watch the phones?
Office Manager: The temp is not in yet?
Me: No, I told you an hour ago that she never showed up.
Office Manager: I'll call the temp agency when I get back from lunch.
Me: Well, how am I supposed to eat? I can't wait until 2, that's too late and I'll surely pass out from starvation.
[okay, that was a bit dramatic on my part.]
Office Manager: Well, wait until 1 and then talk to me.
And she walks out to get her lunch. She comes back about twenty minutes later, parading her salad in front of me as she's telling me that she's going to eat it first before figuring out where the temp is. Grr.
At 1pm, Office Manager: Okay, the temp agency can't get in touch with her and doesn't know where she is. Why don't you just take a half hour lunch and turn the phones off.
Me: I usually take an hour lunch....
Office Manager: Well, you can't today. And eat quickly.
Me: Okay, but we shouldn't turn off the phones for a half hour.
Office Manager: Why not?
Me: Because [the Partner] hates it when no one answers the phone during business hours. He told you this before, that's why we couldn't leave early on Fridays anymore.
Office Manager: Oh yeah, that's right. I don't care, I'll just tell him that you're out to lunch.
And then she walks away. I turn off the phones and go grab a slice of pizza and swallow it quickly because 30 minutes doesn't allow for many options. I get back to the office and turn the phones on and guess who calls? The Partner.
the Partner: Why are you answering the phones?
Me: Receptionist is sick and the temp is MIA.
Partner: Temp is MIA? So you've been doing phones all morning?
Me: yeah...
Partner: Where's [the Office Manager]? She should help out so you can do the stuff I assigned you.
Me: Um, yeah. help, right. That didn't work out so well.
Partner: What do you mean?
Me: I asked [the Office Manager] to watch the phones so I can go get some lunch, and she told me to turn it off. I just got back from lunch now.
Partner: She made you turn off the phones during business hours?
Me: Yeah, and she said that if you happened to call during that time, it was because I wanted to eat.
Partner: I told her not to turn phones off during business hours. I'll deal wiht her when I get back into the office. Let me talk to [the Associate].
So I watched phones for the rest of the day Tuesday because the temp never showed up and the other assistant was forced to stay at her desk by her attorney (the other Partner). The receptionist called later in the day so say that he wouldn't be at work on Wednesday so I told the Office Manager to get another temp to just cover the phones because I can't do it anymore, especially if the temp assistant doesn't show up for work again and I have to cover all of her attorneys. But of course the Office Manager doesn't call for another temp.
---Wednesday, 8:30 am, I walk into the office, switch the phones on and just forward them to my desk. I put up a sign that reads "Messenger and delivery people, please call x123 if signatures are needed. Thanks." on the front desk and continued to work from my desk at the end of the office.
Office Manager: The temp is coming in today. She had an emergency surgery yesterday and that's why she didn't show up.
Me: Emergency surgery? Then why the hell is she even going to work today?
Officer Manager: She said she can come in.
Me: Okay, well ask her to stay the whole day because I really have a lot of work to catch up on.
Officer Manager: I will.
But she doesn't. I saw the temp coming in at 9 and I asked her if she could watch the phones and if she could stay until 5. The temp said she wanted to go home early because she wasn't feeling well after her surgery, so guess who ended up watching the phones for another f-ing day?
---Thursday, 8:30 a.m., after a work-out at the gym, I turn the corner and see the doors open at the office. I hear coughing in the background and I see that it's coming from the receptionist.
Me: Are you still contagious?
Receptionist: Yeah.
Me: Why are you here?
Receptionist: I feel better today.
I walk back to my desk and then my phone rings.
Receptionist: Honey, I'm going to leave early because I'm not feeling too well.
Me: You just told me you were feeling better. That was like two seconds ago!
Receptionist: I know, but now I'm not feeling so good.
Me: Okay.
Receptionist: I'm going to leave at 11am.
Me: Why don't you just leave now? Why did you even come in if you're not feeling well?
Receptionist: I don't know, I felt like I had to come in. To help out.
Me: Yeah, whatever. Just tell me when you leave.
And it's only 9:14am and I'm already doing phones again. And there's no temp today either. See, I knew I'd hate the fucking phones too.
"Don't worry about it, after this week, I will hate the fucking phones too," I told him as he scanned my card and wished me a good work-out.
------------------------------
---Monday, 8:45am, I turn down the hallway towards the office and notice the doors were closed. Great, that usually means that our receptionist is not coming in. So I opened up the doors, switched the phones on and walked back to my desk to drop off my things. Just as I was putting my things away, the officer manager comes running out of her office to find me.
Office Manager: [the receptionist] called in sick this morning. And [the paralegal] is on vacation. The temp doesn't get in until 9. Can you work out covering the phones with her when she gets in?
Me: Um, sure. Who else will do it? [note: there was no other staff in the office.]
Office Manager: Well, the phones won't get answered then if you won't do it.
Me: Um, that was a rhetorical question.
So on Monday, I ended up covering the phones from 8:45 to noon, then from 2 until 5, all the while running back and forth from my desk at the end of the office to the front desk to the copy room, etc., etc.
---Tuesday, 8:30am, I walk down the hallway and see that the office doors are fully open, only I hear loud hacking from beyond the doors. I thought to myself that I would probably be covering the phones all day again. I smile at him as I walk to my desk and settle down. And what do you know? I get an email from the receptionist saying that he wasn't feeling well and he wanted to leave early so can someone please watch the phones. He sent this email to all the staff knowing that I was the only one in the office during the mornings because 1) the paralegal is on vacation, 2) the other assistant doesn't start until 2, and 3) the temp doesn't get in until 9am. I ignored the email, not just out of spite but because I was truly busy from catching up with Monday's work.
It turns out the temp couldn't come in until 11, so the receptionist agreed to stay until the temp comes in so that I can get actual work done on my cases. 11:30 rolls around and the temp still isn't in but the receptionist keeps whining about wanting to go home so the office manager made me abandon my desk to watch the phones. Then it's 12:15 and the temp is still not in and I'm getting hungry. The office manager walks by and tells me she's going to lunch but I had to ask her how am I going to get lunch is no one else is here to watch the phones?
Office Manager: The temp is not in yet?
Me: No, I told you an hour ago that she never showed up.
Office Manager: I'll call the temp agency when I get back from lunch.
Me: Well, how am I supposed to eat? I can't wait until 2, that's too late and I'll surely pass out from starvation.
[okay, that was a bit dramatic on my part.]
Office Manager: Well, wait until 1 and then talk to me.
And she walks out to get her lunch. She comes back about twenty minutes later, parading her salad in front of me as she's telling me that she's going to eat it first before figuring out where the temp is. Grr.
At 1pm, Office Manager: Okay, the temp agency can't get in touch with her and doesn't know where she is. Why don't you just take a half hour lunch and turn the phones off.
Me: I usually take an hour lunch....
Office Manager: Well, you can't today. And eat quickly.
Me: Okay, but we shouldn't turn off the phones for a half hour.
Office Manager: Why not?
Me: Because [the Partner] hates it when no one answers the phone during business hours. He told you this before, that's why we couldn't leave early on Fridays anymore.
Office Manager: Oh yeah, that's right. I don't care, I'll just tell him that you're out to lunch.
And then she walks away. I turn off the phones and go grab a slice of pizza and swallow it quickly because 30 minutes doesn't allow for many options. I get back to the office and turn the phones on and guess who calls? The Partner.
the Partner: Why are you answering the phones?
Me: Receptionist is sick and the temp is MIA.
Partner: Temp is MIA? So you've been doing phones all morning?
Me: yeah...
Partner: Where's [the Office Manager]? She should help out so you can do the stuff I assigned you.
Me: Um, yeah. help, right. That didn't work out so well.
Partner: What do you mean?
Me: I asked [the Office Manager] to watch the phones so I can go get some lunch, and she told me to turn it off. I just got back from lunch now.
Partner: She made you turn off the phones during business hours?
Me: Yeah, and she said that if you happened to call during that time, it was because I wanted to eat.
Partner: I told her not to turn phones off during business hours. I'll deal wiht her when I get back into the office. Let me talk to [the Associate].
So I watched phones for the rest of the day Tuesday because the temp never showed up and the other assistant was forced to stay at her desk by her attorney (the other Partner). The receptionist called later in the day so say that he wouldn't be at work on Wednesday so I told the Office Manager to get another temp to just cover the phones because I can't do it anymore, especially if the temp assistant doesn't show up for work again and I have to cover all of her attorneys. But of course the Office Manager doesn't call for another temp.
---Wednesday, 8:30 am, I walk into the office, switch the phones on and just forward them to my desk. I put up a sign that reads "Messenger and delivery people, please call x123 if signatures are needed. Thanks." on the front desk and continued to work from my desk at the end of the office.
Office Manager: The temp is coming in today. She had an emergency surgery yesterday and that's why she didn't show up.
Me: Emergency surgery? Then why the hell is she even going to work today?
Officer Manager: She said she can come in.
Me: Okay, well ask her to stay the whole day because I really have a lot of work to catch up on.
Officer Manager: I will.
But she doesn't. I saw the temp coming in at 9 and I asked her if she could watch the phones and if she could stay until 5. The temp said she wanted to go home early because she wasn't feeling well after her surgery, so guess who ended up watching the phones for another f-ing day?
---Thursday, 8:30 a.m., after a work-out at the gym, I turn the corner and see the doors open at the office. I hear coughing in the background and I see that it's coming from the receptionist.
Me: Are you still contagious?
Receptionist: Yeah.
Me: Why are you here?
Receptionist: I feel better today.
I walk back to my desk and then my phone rings.
Receptionist: Honey, I'm going to leave early because I'm not feeling too well.
Me: You just told me you were feeling better. That was like two seconds ago!
Receptionist: I know, but now I'm not feeling so good.
Me: Okay.
Receptionist: I'm going to leave at 11am.
Me: Why don't you just leave now? Why did you even come in if you're not feeling well?
Receptionist: I don't know, I felt like I had to come in. To help out.
Me: Yeah, whatever. Just tell me when you leave.
And it's only 9:14am and I'm already doing phones again. And there's no temp today either. See, I knew I'd hate the fucking phones too.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
oh that's hot
I've been hearing this song all week long and it's gotten to the point where I've memorized half the lyrics. It's got a nice beat, lyrics make sense, and when it's always on the radio, I sing along in my horrible singing voice...
But, as I was singing along with the radio, I kept wondering: Who sings this song? Is this someone new? I don't think I know who she is. I must know who this is!!
Well, I found out. And I'm greatly surprised...very shocked indeed. I still can't believe it. If you haven't figured it out, all this time, I've been singing along with PARIS HILTON!!
I'm embarassed to say that Paris Hilton's singing is actually good.
*I must go back to the day before I knew Paris Hilton could sing. I must go back to the day before I knew Paris Hilton could sing. I must go back to the day before I knew Paris Hilton could sing.*
I don't mind spending some time
Just hanging here with you
Cuz I don't find too many guys
That treat me like you do
Those other guys all wanna take me for a ride
But when I walk their talk is suicide
Some people never get beyond their stupid pride
But you can see the real me insideAnd I'm satisfied, oh no, ohh
Even though the gods are crazy
Even though the stars are blind
If you show me real love baby
I'll show you mine
But, as I was singing along with the radio, I kept wondering: Who sings this song? Is this someone new? I don't think I know who she is. I must know who this is!!
Well, I found out. And I'm greatly surprised...very shocked indeed. I still can't believe it. If you haven't figured it out, all this time, I've been singing along with PARIS HILTON!!
I'm embarassed to say that Paris Hilton's singing is actually good.
*I must go back to the day before I knew Paris Hilton could sing. I must go back to the day before I knew Paris Hilton could sing. I must go back to the day before I knew Paris Hilton could sing.*
Monday, June 12, 2006
walking the kitty
Trying to save my fat kitty from getting cat diabetes for being overweight, I walked into a pet store and asked for a cat leash. The sales clerk looked at me strangely but showed me the collection of cat collars and leashes. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to choose from, so I ended up buying one of those figure eight leashy thingy and a matching leash in the color pink.
Let's just say Jelly Belly Fat Cat did not like taking a walk...
Let's just say Jelly Belly Fat Cat did not like taking a walk...
You want me to do what? Walk? On cement? Fat chance, Lady.
Mommy, please pick me up. I don't like this.
Crazy f-ing caretakers, $&%^*@, expecting me to get off my fat ass and waddle around for their sick pleasure. $*%&*#&%** I know she's laughing me me. #*%&&$*$
No more walking, please. Too much work. Need rest. Someone hug me.
You two are going to pay for making me do this.
Aww, finally, back to sanctuary. I need a nap.
Why clean before your cleaners come?
The Boy had scheduled some housecleaning service to clean his house at 9 am on Sunday (9 am!! on a Sunday!!) and so we had to get up early to prepare for them. Prepare what you say? Well, clean up before they start cleaning of course! Redundant? Yes, it is. The Boy is crazy. We (really just me) had to pick up all the clothes off the floor, put away bottles sitting on the counter, take out the garbage, do the dishes, etc. I guess the cleaners were just supposed to vacuum, mop and clean the bathrooms since we already put everything else away.
What pissed me off was that he made me stay up late to pre-clean for the cleaners, get up early to shower and get dressed, and let my stomach growl while waiting for over an hour for the cleaners who NEVER SHOWED UP. All that cleaning for nothing.
And I know it's just not the Boy who cleans before the cleaners come over. It's like people who brush their teeth before going to a dentist for a cleaning. Weird. But people do it.
What pissed me off was that he made me stay up late to pre-clean for the cleaners, get up early to shower and get dressed, and let my stomach growl while waiting for over an hour for the cleaners who NEVER SHOWED UP. All that cleaning for nothing.
And I know it's just not the Boy who cleans before the cleaners come over. It's like people who brush their teeth before going to a dentist for a cleaning. Weird. But people do it.
The Sweet Taste of Food
The Boy and I were at his "summer home" this past weekend, and as usual, he made me do some form of physical exercise, usually running laps at a track. I normally whine and bargain with the Boy until we come to an agreement about the number of laps we're going to run. I never actually end up running the number of laps we agree upon, because I'm too freaking tired to finish, but the Boy keeps pushing me along, yelling at me while he's running behind me.
This weekend, we did the normal bitch and moan process (okay, just me) and came upon the agreement of 10 laps and if I had it in me, I'd go for 12 (yes, the Boy is crazy). It's 11:00 a.m., the sun was out in full force, I had my iPod on, there's a cool breeze, I was set for running. I did the first 5 laps with no problems whatsoever--no cramps, no shortness of breath, no loss of energy. The 7th and 8th laps took a bit more energy, but I still felt strong and actually believed I could probably match the Boy's 12 laps. Lap 9, however, started to completely drain me of my energy. There was a cramp in my side, I was huffing and puffing, and my head was beginning to hurt. I think the heat from the sun was beginning to get at me. I kept looking behind me and saw that the Boy was closing in on the half-track distance we had between us. And plus, I felt like puking up the banana nut muffin I had for breakfast. But damnit, I was determined to finish my 10 laps, puking or not.
I finished my 10 laps without losing my breakfast and just walked the track while the Boy continued on with his two extra laps. The Boy was proud that I didn't whine about running my last two laps and that he didn't have to become drill sargeant on me. He was also happy that I kept saying that I still felt like puking. Sick, isn't he?
Well, after we finished cooling down, showering and getting dressed (2 hours after finishing our run), I still didn't have an appetite for lunch. We went to Chili's anyway, because you know, the Boy has to eat too, and I ordered something small (chicken crispers) and mostly picked at the chicken, ate half the fries, and finished the corn on the cob. The Boy actually finished the rest of my food in addition to his. And I was completely upset that I couldn't eat. I vowed never to eat food again because it made me sick, and that I would definitely not run again either.
So then about 8pm that same day, approximately 6 hours after our Chili's meal, I finally lost the feeling of stomach upset and got my appetite back. And that's exactly what I told the Boy during the middle of "Big Momma's House 2".
Me: I'm hungry.
BF: I thought you weren't eating anymore. I thought I ruined your appetite.
Me: I thought so too, but I guess it was only a matter of time until I could eat again.
BF: Oh, brother.
Me: I was pizza, or maybe curly fries. Ohh, pizza and curly fries, yummy. And boba tea!
BF: My goodness, she's worse than ever!
So we went out and got a pizza, chicken wings and boba tea. It was such a satisfying feeling to be able to enjoy the taste of pizza and wings without gagging. And then to be able to eat more than a bite. And top it all off drinking/chewing boba tea.
Yummy.
This weekend, we did the normal bitch and moan process (okay, just me) and came upon the agreement of 10 laps and if I had it in me, I'd go for 12 (yes, the Boy is crazy). It's 11:00 a.m., the sun was out in full force, I had my iPod on, there's a cool breeze, I was set for running. I did the first 5 laps with no problems whatsoever--no cramps, no shortness of breath, no loss of energy. The 7th and 8th laps took a bit more energy, but I still felt strong and actually believed I could probably match the Boy's 12 laps. Lap 9, however, started to completely drain me of my energy. There was a cramp in my side, I was huffing and puffing, and my head was beginning to hurt. I think the heat from the sun was beginning to get at me. I kept looking behind me and saw that the Boy was closing in on the half-track distance we had between us. And plus, I felt like puking up the banana nut muffin I had for breakfast. But damnit, I was determined to finish my 10 laps, puking or not.
I finished my 10 laps without losing my breakfast and just walked the track while the Boy continued on with his two extra laps. The Boy was proud that I didn't whine about running my last two laps and that he didn't have to become drill sargeant on me. He was also happy that I kept saying that I still felt like puking. Sick, isn't he?
Well, after we finished cooling down, showering and getting dressed (2 hours after finishing our run), I still didn't have an appetite for lunch. We went to Chili's anyway, because you know, the Boy has to eat too, and I ordered something small (chicken crispers) and mostly picked at the chicken, ate half the fries, and finished the corn on the cob. The Boy actually finished the rest of my food in addition to his. And I was completely upset that I couldn't eat. I vowed never to eat food again because it made me sick, and that I would definitely not run again either.
So then about 8pm that same day, approximately 6 hours after our Chili's meal, I finally lost the feeling of stomach upset and got my appetite back. And that's exactly what I told the Boy during the middle of "Big Momma's House 2".
Me: I'm hungry.
BF: I thought you weren't eating anymore. I thought I ruined your appetite.
Me: I thought so too, but I guess it was only a matter of time until I could eat again.
BF: Oh, brother.
Me: I was pizza, or maybe curly fries. Ohh, pizza and curly fries, yummy. And boba tea!
BF: My goodness, she's worse than ever!
So we went out and got a pizza, chicken wings and boba tea. It was such a satisfying feeling to be able to enjoy the taste of pizza and wings without gagging. And then to be able to eat more than a bite. And top it all off drinking/chewing boba tea.
Yummy.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Jelly Belly Fatty Catty
Me: Q says Jelly Belly is really fat, fatter than when she first got her.
BF: Well, your cat is fat. Every pet you own is fat.
Me: No it's not!
BF: You like to fatten up everything up. I even have some love handles now.
Me: I don't force feed the cat! I leave food out and she eats it. I don't hold her head to the bowl and say "eat, cat, or die!"
BF: Yes you do.
Me: And there's always food left in her bowl so I know she's not gobbling it down the second I put food in it.
BF: If they gave you an Ethiopian child, you'd be able to fatten it up in a week.
Me: Hey!
Jelly Belly, you're not fat. You're just fluffy. Doesn't matter what everyone else says.
BF: Well, your cat is fat. Every pet you own is fat.
Me: No it's not!
BF: You like to fatten up everything up. I even have some love handles now.
Me: I don't force feed the cat! I leave food out and she eats it. I don't hold her head to the bowl and say "eat, cat, or die!"
BF: Yes you do.
Me: And there's always food left in her bowl so I know she's not gobbling it down the second I put food in it.
BF: If they gave you an Ethiopian child, you'd be able to fatten it up in a week.
Me: Hey!
Jelly Belly, you're not fat. You're just fluffy. Doesn't matter what everyone else says.
I won't be unemployed
Remember the post about my last day being June 30? Well, I just had to ask my boss to see if that was actually true, especially since I noticed that they already posted the job listing on Craigslist. Turns out the HR manager just totally wanted to find my replacement before she was going to leave for vacation and before my boss is going to leave for vacation. And she didn't want to have two assistants at the same time, so she figured my last day would be June 30 and the new assistant would start July 1.
My boss put set the HR manager straight though. He told her that my last day would be whenever day I told him (which is Aug. 4, but now I'm thinking July 31 is better). He just wants to interview possible candidates for my replacement before he leaves for vacation. And then, he wants me to work with the new assistant for two weeks before my last day, so that she would know what to do (basically training her).
So yay! I still have a job until I say I quit for real.
My boss put set the HR manager straight though. He told her that my last day would be whenever day I told him (which is Aug. 4, but now I'm thinking July 31 is better). He just wants to interview possible candidates for my replacement before he leaves for vacation. And then, he wants me to work with the new assistant for two weeks before my last day, so that she would know what to do (basically training her).
So yay! I still have a job until I say I quit for real.
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