Wednesday, May 16, 2012

My Grandma on Meds

I started writing a post about cats a few days ago that I wanted to post yesterday, but I’ve been a little busy and my mind hasn’t really been on a cat post.

Instead I’ve spent the past few days at the hospital with my grandma. It’s kind of amazing that I’m posting at all, but it’s nothing serious, so I managed to not be completely depressed about it.

My grandma has been kind of confused lately. Sometimes it’s scary because she forgets where she is, but usually it’s kind of funny, so I decided to share the things she’s said here. Of course, it’s only really funny because it’s temporary. Once she goes off the meds, she’ll be less forgetful. If it was permanent, it wouldn’t be funny at all.



But before I get started, my interview post is still in the works, so if you want to submit a question (please do!) details are here.



Grandma: “You wouldn’t believe what the operating room looked like!”

Mom: “Yes I would. I work here. I’ve gone down to the OR several times.”

Grandma: “It’s horrible! There were beams everywhere! It looked like a basement!”

Mom: “That was just the equipment. It wasn’t the ceiling. It was just the machines above you.”

Grandma: “No, that wasn’t it.”



Me: “So, what did you have for lunch today? Are you still on a liquid diet?”

Grandma: “The nurses brought in Chinese food and shared it with the patients! But there wasn’t really anything there that I liked. It was neat, though. There was so much Chinese food!”

The next day...

Nurse: “No, your grandmother must have just imagined it. No one brought in Chinese food. That sounds really good, though. Someone should do that.”



Me: “Grandma, they brought you some food. Do you want anything right now?”

Grandma: “Sure. I guess I’ll have some tea.”

Me: “Okay. Do you want any sugar?”

Grandma: “Yeah.”

Me: “How much?”

Grandma: “The whole package.”

Me: “Okay.”

Grandma: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING??”

Me: “Putting sugar in. Do you still want sugar?”

Grandma: “Oh. I’ve never seen anyone do it like that. I just put it in and let it seep.”

Me: “No, grandma. The bag is already in the water. This is the sugar.”

Grandma: “Oh. I don’t want that much sugar.”

Me: “Okay. How much sugar do you want?”

Grandma: “A spoonful.”

Me: “Okay.”

Grandma: “Well, no. That’s a pretty big spoon…”

She ended up having almost the entire packet of sugar anyway.



Housekeeping: “Hi. How are you doing today?”

Grandma: “Oh, fine I guess. I’ve got a broken foot.”

Housekeeping: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Grandma: “Yeah. I had to get my knee replaced.”

Housekeeping: “…Oh, that’s too bad.”

Grandma: “Yeah. But I broke my other hip a few years ago, so this one is easier to deal with.”

She actually broke her hip. Her leg was bruised, but her knee and foot were both fine.



Grandma: “Whose phone is this?”

Me: “That’s not a phone.”

Grandma: “My phone is over there. Why is this phone here?”

Me: “That’s not a phone, grandma. That’s something medical.”

Grandma: “What are these??”

Me: “Cords. You probably shouldn’t touch them.”

Grandma: “They’re all tangled!”

Me: “They look fine. Do you want some apple juice?”

Grandma: “Why would someone just leave their phone here?”

Me: “Grandma, it isn’t a phone. Please don’t touch those wires!”

Grandma: “Oww! These are attached to me!”

Me: “I know! Don’t pull on them!”

Me: “So…Do you want apple juice?”



Grandma: “I’m in a different room.”

Me: “What? No you aren’t. You’re in the same room you were in yesterday.”

Grandma: “No. This room is definitely different.”

Me: “No, you were in room 308 yesterday and you’re still here.”

Grandma: “No…The bed. The bed is definitely different.”

Me: “They moved the chairs around.”

Grandma: “Oh.”



Grandma: “I need to get up.”

Mom: “Okay, call a nurse and she’ll help you.”

Grandma: “I don’t need a nurse.”

Mom: “Yes you do. It’s their job. They’ll help you up.”

Grandma: “I don’t see why I need a nurse. I never needed a nurse before.”

Mom: “You just broke your hip and had surgery! You need a nurse!”



Grandma: “My phone is broken.”

Me: “It is? Let me look at it.”

Grandma: “It says it’s charged, but I can’t dial a number.”

Me: “Okay, press the ‘end’ button.”

Grandma: “Oh! It’s doing something!”

Me: “Don’t start dialing it yet, it’s turning on.”

Grandma: “Oh. You know so much about technology!”

As far as I know, she hasn’t had too much trouble with her cell phone before. The medication just caused her to forget how it worked.



Me: “They gave you tea, Jell-O, and two apple juices. Does anything sound good?”

Grandma: “I’ll have the Jell-O.”

Me: “Okay.”

Later…

Me: “Do you want anything else? You still have tea and apple juice.”

Grandma: “I’ll have apple sauce.”

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

College: A Wrap Up. (And Also Boobies.) Part Three!


If you made it this far, you’re awesome. This is the “boobies” part of my college/post college trilogy.

Unfortunately, the boobies aren’t until the end of this post. But no skipping! This material has never seen my blog before, and even if you know this story, you should still read it because I’m even bitchier in writing. Ready?

There were several factors that led to me dropping out of college after only one semester.

The main reason was that I’m terrible at making new friends on my own.

Even though I had moved to a new dorm with eleven suite-mates, I couldn’t seem to socialize with them very much. Out of eleven girls, only a couple talked to me. And usually they were inviting me to hang out with them somewhere on a night that I happened to be doing something else (that something will be made clear shortly).

Eventually, I decided to give up. Too much time had passed to make a good impression. They were never going to like me and I was sure they thought I was weird for hiding in my room and only emerging to shower, go to class, and play with my boy toy (there it is – that’s the something).

Another factor was that I didn’t care about any of my classes. Italian was great, but they cancelled my section for that semester. So that really left me with nothing.

But the final straw was absurd.

I thought maybe I could keep up this whole college charade if it meant sex.

Then the unthinkable happened.

The nerd I was hooking up with found someone else.

Of course, guys can be total assholes, so I didn’t find this out until a couple months later.

But let me go into detail about this guy so you get an idea of how unexpected this was.



I met him over the summer when I took a writing class (my idea of getting ahead in school) and I really didn’t think much of him then.

This really never changed, but I viewed him as easy, so I decided I would put the time and effort into getting him interested.

First I tested him. I made a blog post about my blowjob story and posted a link on facebook.

Bait set.

He “liked” it and soon made plans to hang out with me.

They don’t come any easier than that.



Anyway, after hanging out a couple more times, I decided it would be a good idea to start hooking up with him.

Normally I don’t hook up with nerds, but I decided it was a good idea for one very crucial reason.

I BREAK SHIT ALL THE TIME.

And it’s usually expensive shit. Like laptops. So if I’m fucking a computer science major, chances are he’ll fix it for me if the unthinkable happens.



My laptop never broke, but I did almost brake his desktop.

Let me take a moment to explain to you exactly how funny sex with me can be.

One time we were hooking up on his strangely elevated bed, when I threw my shirt down.

Then I heard a crash come from the general direction of his computer.

After a moment of terror, I courageously looked over to discover that my shirt had only landed next to his computer, so the moment wasn’t completely lost.

But, because I’m me, this was not the last of the awkward (and, more importantly, hilarious) sex moments.

You see, there’s a light above his bed.

There have been several occasions in which we hit our heads on it. Despite our best efforts to avoid it, it was always in the way. I suspect it moved slightly just to ruin my night. That light is a failure.

Of course, I have one story that makes those look like nothing. And maybe they are. It isn’t that funny looking back, but that’s only because this happened:

Imagine you’re having sex and it’s all going pretty well.

Then there’s the climax.

And then you suddenly hear “I Just Had Sex” by Akon because his suite-mates have incredible timing.

Really. Imagine it. You just climaxed and then you hear a self-congratulatory Akon singing about his highest achievement to date.

It’s kind of the best thing ever.



And It almost makes up for what happened a couple months after that. But not quite.



After winter break, I spent one day in my new room and then I spent the next night in his room.

Then I didn’t hear from him in over a week.

I thought “Has he contracted a deadly virus that prevents him from texting? Did he have a computer emergency? Has there been a tragic death in his family? Is he dead?”

These were all incorrect, but it would have been fantastic if he had at least been mauled by a bear or something.

So, when I finally heard from him again, he broke off our “friends with benefits” relationship thing.

It was at that moment I decided I had to leave RIC.

Finding a new guy would have been easy if I wasn’t already completely upset with where I was at in life. But now I had something else to be pissed about and I decided enough was enough.

A couple months later he told me he had sex with another girl and I told him he was worthless and some girls have incredibly low standards. Or they don’t know anything about computers, which was the case with me.



Ready for boobies? I thought so.



A few days ago I applied for a job at a professional bra fitting company.

The first thing they asked was “Why do you want to work for us?”

And apparently the answer they were looking for was not “I like bras.”

I thought I was doing a good thing by being honest, but you never know with places like that. I really don’t know how that can be avoided, though. But what I do know is that it's completely freeing to say "boobs" in a professional setting.

After I finished my application, she asked me a couple more questions and then said “If you have time, bra fittings are free and you can get a better idea of what you would be doing if we hired you.”

I was all “Okay! That sounds great!”

So one of the girls took me into the dressing room and handed me a bra to try on.

Then she left while I switched bras.

As I turned to face the mirror I noticed a familiar face looking back at me on the wall.

No, it wasn’t my face.

Well, my face was there too, of course. It was in the mirror. But there were picture frames all around the mirror also.

And then I saw the face of my high school drama teacher on the wall.

I had always seen ads for the bra fitting company on the programs for drama productions, but it never occurred to me that my teacher was affiliated with them in any way.

So when the girl came back in I was all “I know her!” and I pointed at the picture.

I thought the girl would be all “That’s awesome! We love her! You’re hired!”

But of course nothing like that ever happens to me, so instead she was just like “Really? How?”

And I said she was my high school drama director/teacher.

She was all “Oh. I had no idea she did stuff like that.”

And then she brought me their entire selection of bras for me to try on.

I told her I liked push-up because my boobs weren’t very big.

Out of what looked like 82 bras, she pulled out 4 push-up bras.

I thought “Whatever. I don’t have to buy the product. I just have to pretend to like it so they think I love their company.”

So I tried one on and, to my surprise, it fit really well.

I checked the size.

It said 32D. At this point I had been in there for over an hour and I was even more confused about bras then when I had walked in.


And there was a picture of a former teacher staring at me the whole time.

I have always worn a 34B. Anyone that looks at me could accurately guess my bra size.

I was even more confused because a couple months earlier I had gotten a bra fitting at Victoria’s Secret where they tried to tell me I was a 34C. I thought “Okay, maybe. I mean, my boobs aren’t big, but maybe certain bras run larger than others?”

And then the girl gave me more bras in different styles and they were all huge on me.

So she gave me a 34B.

I thanked her for her time.



Anyway, the moral here is that boobs are really confusing and that even computer science majors can be assholes.

Basically, you can’t trust anyone. Not even your bra. But you should probably still wear one. After all, they’re really pretty. The fact that they’re so pretty completely makes up for the inaccurate sizing.

It’s okay, bras. I forgive you.



Also, my interview post is still in the works, so if you would like to submit a question (or more than one!) details are here. And you should totally do it. Seriously. You have no idea how much I would appreciate it.



OH FINE.

Here’s Miranda Kerr. Her boobies are amazing.