Tag Archives: funny

Donna: You Make Me Wanna…

31 Aug

you mean well

and you cannot tell

but you’re awkward


I know I’m not proficient in social situations

my brain takes detail-vacations

thinking of all the small things

meanwhile I am just standing there

so busy thinking, that I’m checked out–unaware


but you have no idea

so I didn’t take it wrong

saved this story for a song

and recounted the memory to everyone

about the time you said inappropriate things to me at work

not to be a jerk

you think your tips are helpful

and you don’t know any better

an old lady can’t identify with a trend-setter…

you have no idea my haircut is so me!


you suggested sunscreen for my head

you didn’t notice my face turn red

couldn’t tell I was embarrassed by your comments

you showed genuine concern

that my bald spot would burn

maybe you thought I didn’t know how to be feminine and pleasing


I laughed later

didn’t think you were being a hater

I figured you just thought your hints were inspirational

what an odd-ball

saying rude things without the where-with-all!

I know you don’t realize


and I laughed again

when you said my hair was finally growing in

another day when you crept up to my cubicle

I accepted you for what you are

a little kooky, a lot bizarre

but after many comments

my patience was fully spent

I’m ignoring your opinion, take your ten cent.

And put it in your own pocket

an opinion for a different girl, another day

it’s not that I don’t know what you’re getting at-

I should hide my hair and get a hat

until I grow my locks and learn to be a proper girl

but Donna, I just don’t care

that I don’t meet old fashioned standards and you. don’t. like my. hair!


2 Oct

Today in Phonetics, we did a 3rd transcription–the horrid middle vowels (+ front and back vowels) which I’m pretty sure I got my 3rd 100% on.  Though it was really difficult to differentiate some of the sounds.  We graded it in class then had time left over so our prof asked if we had questions.  On the test was the word “parcel” with a schwa before the l.  I raised my hand and asked how to tell the difference between schwa + l as in “parcel” vs. the syllabic l as in “bottle.”  I asked which would be in my name.  He has a hearing problem so I had to say my name very loud, several times, then slowly so he knew the proper transcription.  So the class heard me say my name loudly, and slowly 5-6 times.  It’s the schwa–because r-l is too fast without an interceding sound, so you need the schwa vowel between.

We still had time in class so the prof told us to give him some words and he would transcribe them for us.  I said “onawanpia.”  And again because of his hearing loss had to say it louder.  He said it was a great word, and hard, then had me say it slowly.  The gals behind me were repeating “onamanapia.”  Uh-oh.  I realized I have been saying that word wrong, not only today, but my whole life.  Plus, everyone knew my name from before.  So I looked totally ignorant.  And the professor called me out and asked if I wanted him to transcribe it with the –“wana” because he would, and I sheepishly had to tell him to transcribe the proper word.


Tactics of the Tahoe Squirrel

10 Aug

Summer is starting to wrap up–at least here.  And it reminds me of swimming at Lake Tahoe.  A big part of the swimming is either elbowing for space on the beach (California side) or hiking to and from the water (Nevada side).  A second huge aspect of swimming in Lake Tahoe is the chipmunks and squirrels.  These guys are no strangers to people–and especially the beach snacks they inevitably bring with them.

sqirrel baby

Here is their procedure:

-First they send a small cute shy one out.  It’s small, it’s uncertain.  It’s a crowd-pleaser.

-“Look he’s hungry,” you and your group say, “awwww–give the little guy a cracker.”

-Tiny squirrel responds, “Yum, I’ve never had a cracker!”

-Then there’s 3 squirrels standing in various places looking at your group.

-You throw a couple of more crackers out–not wanting to be unfair.

-Then things escalate a little and the big squirrels are stealing all the crackers from the little cute ones.squirrel fight

-All the time, more and more squirrels are appearing out of seemingly nowhere.

-You begin to think you’d better cut them off because the small squirrels aren’t fast or tough enough to get ANY.

-You begin to think maybe they’ve done this before and are probably getting fat.

-More and more are showing up and you and your group realize you are outnumbered.

-Then, realizing feeding time is over, the squirrels are looking through your bag trying to get their own crackers.

-They form a squirrel posse’ surrounding your group and using intimidation tactics.squirrel group

-Then, they have sticks and rocks and are threatening you for crackers.

-They have brass knuckles and surround you demanding crackers.

squirrel war

Well, you get my point.  There is no such thing as one lone cute little squirrel.  So the locals quickly learn not to feed the little creatures.  But we do laugh when we see visitors (or stupid Californians who are always inept) feeding them and the resulting fall out when they do.  Oh and fair warning–don’t touch them–they carry zoonotic disease.  True story.

The BiPolar is Catching

30 Jan

I’m excited and happy and stress-free.  Then I’m anxious, stressed-out, and guilty.  That’s my scene as of late, and I’m surprised Cool hasn’t slipped me some of her meds.  Oh that would require her to remember to take them heself. . .  All joking aside, I think I got on some sort of [sleep-disruption–>caffeine–>sleepless] spiral.  You know how those two feed each other.  I have to get it straightened out!

Also, blogging every day during school is too tall of an order for me.  There is just not enough time in a day for all the things I want to accomplish.  I will be relieved when January is over so I can legit break-the-chain and have a few rest days.  Also, it’s been difficult to stick to goals/motivation/trasnsformative/resolution topics only.  I may have stepped a toe on the line a time or two, but I did it for the most part.

Maybe I’ll do another list for time’s sake:

*It has snowed a bunch in the last couple days.

*My 4×4 (the physical shifter) will no longer go into one of the 4×4 settings.  It will now only do the low-speed if I want 4×4 at all.

*This makes driving stressful–it’s either get pushed around by kamikazi-crazies annoyed I’m under the speed limit, or slide around/get stuck.

*I’m nervous about the potential cause–are we talking a few bucks for a shifter-fork-thingy or over a thousand snow(before labor) for a new transmission?!  I cannot be without my car!

*Cool can’t either.  I had to brave the evening commute reckless drivers and take her to work for the last 2 days.  Then pick her up at midnight.  Before getting up in the 4AMs to go to my own job/school.

*Sometimes I feel great about studying.  Sometimes I feel lazy/awful and extremely guilty.  It has been very hard for me to find the motivation to push through with what I feel is the appropriate amount of effort.

Fall finals 123*I’m not sure if I’m just nervous because everything has been school, study, work, sleep, repeat in the past and now I’ve added some fitness and recreation–or if I am in fact.  Slipping.

*I’m trying to study very hard but in short bursts, then be kind to myself afterwards.  Hopefully, things will balance.

*I went to my school’s writing center for help on my CV–and the dude didn’t know the story.  Didn’t know about CVs, had a 2 page personal resume, didn’t understand my program or what the standards for my applications might be–and wasn’t affiliated with my school or our partner school.

*I hate going to things where I feel my time would have been better spent elsewhere–this goes for 5 hours of no appointments at work too.  All I can think is–what a waste.

*Now, I don’t know where to turn for CV guidance.  The professors in my program would be most helpful as a resource, because they’ve written and read CVs, know what schools are looking for, and sort of know me–but I really don’t want to deal with their major meeting-aversion stuff.

*Are these bullet-points or mini-paragraphs?  Am I saving ANY time?

*Let’s see.  I intended on writing a 2013 countdown type post about the top albums put out last year.  But I DMB africawanted to post in New Year’s Eve–as is customary.  I’m not going to be able to finish it in January even–maybe next month?  Maybe why bother?

*We made tacos for lunch today.  I thought they were one of my ultimate favorites.  BUT for whatever reason Grocery Outlet never, never, never has taco seasoning, and it’s not worth going to another store for that item alone.  So we seasoned our own beef.  Who knew?  It’s the taco packet that makes or breaks that meal for me?  I was severely disappointed.

*I’m probably not supposed to say anything about this because of super-scary HIPPA laws, but I transcribe some utterances for my independent study.  And I’m excited I have one with an African-American English Dialect that is already humorous and I’m excited to begin on it.  Secondly, I think my tiny-tron of this morning has a BM at the end of the recording.  I had to transcribe all utterances and noises–I was mortified.

*I’ll write a for-real post tomorrow.  Hopefully something to see where I am on January/2014 goals and set up a plan for February’s focus.

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Maine Coon for Brains

19 Dec

Poor little Choco-Luv is cold.  We don’t use the (fire-hazzard) baseboard heaters in the apartment, but we have space heaters in the living room and in the bedroom.  They’re nicer because you can set them on a threshold, heat just the room you are in, and if they get knocked over, they automatically turn off.  It keeps utilities down, and makes me feel safer.  And we supplement with electric throw blankets, goose-down comforter, and infrared light choco copy 2in the bathroom.

But Choco-Luv is much less active because she is glued to the heating blankets.  So to help her we bought a pink puffy jacket.  It’s absolutely adorable.  She HATES it.  We put it on her and she became half a milimeter tall and wiggled out of it.  So we have kept it out, put it on her during naps, petted her with it.  Just tried to get her used to it–to little avail.

Today, while I was outling my textbook, Cool put the jacket on her and tried snuggling and petting her.  She had angry tail, and sad meows.  She also sort of stalked around the kitchen in the jacket, with Cool following.  Goose, was on the other side of the wall, and looked alarmed.  He saw some pink creature pink puffy jacketwalking funny in HIS apartment, and peeked around the corner to look at it.  His eyes grew wide, and as she ran away (from the jacket) he chased (the moster).

Chco-Luv now had 2 problems:  A horrible outfit on her back.  A brother who didn’t recognize her and wanted to kill!  She hid behind the couch and he sat in the center of the living room staring toward “the pink monster.”  Goose started looking uncharacteristically puffy and like he was about to either aggress or defend.  He didn’t look as mean as the time he bared teeth at Cool (she scared him) but I’ve never seen him get so big!  I was worried we might have an IMG_4673actual-fight on our hands, and I’d have to take one or both to work for abscess repair(s).

Choco-Luv finally shed the jacket and ran toward her brother (for play/grooming) as she often does.  He looked like he might give her the teeth & claw and she veered around him at the last minute, running to the bedroom.  He chased after her (NOT in the usual playful way, then realized the monster was gone.  He stopped being in fight-mode, but still watched her with much suspicion, thinking she was some sort of shape-shifter.  As she relaxed and became less stressed and normal again, he stayed across the room eyeing her.  I could tell he was stressed and scared and pretty certain she would turn into the strange monster and get him.  garden 2 edit

We had to coax both kitties to come into the same vicinity, and when they did, Goose sniffed Choco-Luv thouroughly, trying to identify her.  When she smelled eight, he circled the apartment sniffing and looking for the stranger who had just been here moments before.  It’s been about 30 minutes and just now are the two of them bent back INTO shape!  Silly kitties.

A Rosie Story

18 May

I need to re-pot an African Violet that Cool gifted me with.

This is easier said than done: My bigger pots are in storage in Nevada. I live at an apartment complex so have no yard to collect dirt. I also do not have rocks near my house.

So, I decide to collect rocks during my lunch break at work. But what to put them in? I’m afraid if I just put them in a bag or something some do-gooder will take them for trash and toss them. So I use an old Swiffer-Wet box. I go to write “rocks” then my initials at the top so everyone can see my plan, but without my brain’s involvement, my hand writes “Rosie.”

I thought that was sort of random and funny, and wondered where I got the name Rosie.

When I went outside to get the rocks it was raining. But more importantly, there were not really any rocks around. Being from Nevada, where there are rocks EVERYWHERE I still find this very difficult to believe. But luckily, the house next door was torn down recently and they left a huge hold with boulders around the edges.

NV rocks

I figured where there were boulders there must be smaller rocks too, so I walked to the edge of work’s driveway. And there were smaller rocks among the big ones. I picked up a copper-colored rock and plunked it in my container, I grabbed a brown rock and dropped it in, I grasped a gold. . .

No, not a rock. Rock picking is OVER! I grasped a gold piece of rained-upon poo along the side of the feline-exclusive driveway. With my bare hand. Not cool. Not awesome at all.  But wouldn’t it be funny if whatever animal that left the $hit was named Rosie?!

I went inside, I hope to re-pot the pretty flower, and after this much trouble, it had better live. The End.


28 Dec

pseudo mossI had probably my most embarrassing moment in an exam room EVER today.  I bring it up on here, because two people already know about it.  And I know they’re talking about it–so I might as well find a way to laugh about it too.  Except, my face still reddens every time I even think of it.

I was taking vitals on a kitty owned by a lesbian couple.  Not that it’s a factor in the story–I just notice these things you see.  We account for less then 10% of the population–females probably even less then that, and rural-ish conservative areas even less, so it’s something exciting when I see not one but two lesbians.

I was asking the history, asking questions about the cat.  Anyway, I’m not sure what occurred at all.  But suddenly something icky flew out of my nose.  I had not seen that coming, and hadn’t expected it.  Not only did it fly out of my nose, but it landed on the cat.  And I could SEE it.  I was horrified, not wanting to call any more attention to the scene by acknowledging it, but obviously, if I could see it so could they.  I didn’t know what to do.

There are some people like mothers or ultra-friendly clients that would break the tension by saying, “Oh you should SEE what comes out of my kids!”  or, “Hey!  That’s exactly what the cat has been doing!”  Not these two.  They just got quiet and stood there kind of sternly.  Watching what I would do next.  So by instinct, I just reached out with a bare hand and plucked it off the cat’s fur, which I’m sure they watched me do.  It was like, “Nobody saw this and that didn’t happen.”  But it HAD happened.  I tried to compose myself and hide it in my fist while I finished up taking the heart rate.  And I’m certain they knew why I was only using one hand and had a closed fist.  The cat was a little wiggly while I was trying to osculate and I opened my other hand, but the grossness was still in it.  So I just had to deal one-handed.  It was terrible!

And for so long–the substance was still in my hand.  And when I needed my hand to type, I couldn’tpseudo-seaweed wipe it anywhere, because the gals would totally know.  And I didn’t want to wash the hand and call more attention to the episode.  So I just didn’t type the vitals in the computer at all, instead making a hasty retreat.

Then, the doctor (of course) needed me to go back in the room to restrain the cat while she stained its eye.  So I had to face the lezbos again.  I.  Was.  Mortified.

Gay Problems

23 Oct

In the spirit of a light-hearted gay post, I thought of things that are awkward-turtle when you’re a gay:

Dating is awkward.  Asking for the date–one of the most awful, dreaful things I can imagine   Not only, do you HAVE to make the first move, you don’t even know if your love interest is also gay.  You could get just a no, or some sort of homophobic response.

Dating is also weird, because largely, because it’s an antiquated tradition based heavily on gender roles and traditional behavior.  Which are automatically broken when 2 girls are on a date.  You don’t know who will pay.  You don’t know who will drive.  You’re not sure who should initiate the first move.  . .

Dating is horrible thirdly, because you can’t escape.  In an opposite gender dating situation, the bathroom offers a refuge for time to gather thoughts, privacy in the case of a sick belly, or a phone call/text to ask advice or have an excuse to leave.  These options are gone with another girl.  Not to mention you proceed to a level of intimacy that much faster when you hear a gal pee on the first date.

Buying clothes:  Sometimes it can be hard to tell whether I like an outfit or just how the model looks wearing it.  Once I had the hugest wish list from the Alloy catalog. And upon closer inspection, every item I had picked was using the same model.  I found the model attractive, not the clothes.

Speaking of clothes–this is a problem I don’t have, but always wanted.  I always though that dating girls would mean doubling my wardrobe!  How cool to have a second closet just open up to me?  Which I’m certain would eventually lead to the problem of borrowing clothes without asking, ruining a garment, or both wanting to wear the same thing on the same day.  Alas, all my my girlfriends wore a larger size then me, and even if they had worn clothes that fit me, their styles were vastly different from my own.

Correcting people:  When they assume “we” means your husband/boyfriend.  Do you let it go?  Do you chime in and out yourself?  Either way, it’s going to be awkward.  On the other side of this–it seems like the really “across the football field” kind of gay people (mulleted super-butch diesel-dykes, waaaaay effeminate fairies) are always the ones most careful to advertise their sexuality.  As IF they needed to verbalize, when they’re wearing a sign.

There are probably more, but they escape me right now.

Too Much Party

2 Sep

Do you remember that Bernstein Bears book?  Maybe it was called “Too Much Birthday.”  It’s about a special day, where Sister Bear wakes up early and full of excitement, eats too much junk food throughout the day, moves constantly, and by the end was tired, worn down, teary, and had a sick belly.  Well, yesterday I was Sister Bear.

I’m moving a little slow today, but that’s OK because I had a ton of fun at my first Dave Matthews Band Concert at the Gorge.  It was a lot of anticipation.  Cool got our tickets (ROW 18!!!!!!!!!!) back in February.  To make up for the unfortunate time when we had tickets to Dave at the Gorge–and went on the wrong day.  So we needed to have a good time at the show yesterday.

Here is the setlist:


I felt as if DMB looked at my setliist wishlist and plucked the majority of songs from there for my night at the Gorge.  I was most-pleased.  Cool is going to find a recording of our actual show, which I am very excited about.  I would also like to listen to the concert before and after ours too.

Cool tells me I was signing off-key, going to the bathroom too frequently, and dancing obnoxiously, but she don’t know.  I think she’s just grumpy and hung-over today (though she won’t admit it).  And I did pay for my overindulgence.  By the end of the night (luckily after the entire concert was over), I had a headache, sick bally, and was exhausted.  And I woke up very tired with a headache, chapped lips, and sore neck.  And yet–STILL worth it.  I just call it stress-free fun, and I don’t get that very often.  I hope I can go see Dave Matthews Band at the Gorge Ampitheatre in the future!!!

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Paper, Rock, Scissors

6 Jan

I KNOW beyond the shadow of a doubt why paper beats rock!

It’s understandable how scissors could beat paper by cutting it.  Or how rock could crush scissors.  But I always wondered how a piece of paper could conquer a boulder.  And the standard answer–by covering it. . .  What?  Why does wrapping paper around a rock beat it????


But then I had an epiphany–paper beating rock is not a physical win.  It’s on an intellectual level.  Paper, as in the written word, or books is superior to cave paintings or rock!  Paper is progress, education, and using the brain to beat the antiquated stylings of brawny rock.



It makes perfect sense to me!