Things that are gross, for 500.

This should be easy.

1. I have allergies. Sometimes really bad ones and I'm full of snot and miserable and always have a stuffed up nose and I'm pretty sure I've snored my whole life, and when I'm not snoring, I'm the person who sleeps with my mouth wide open. Sexy, isn't it? I look like a monster when I wake up and as I have previously mentioned I am a terror when I wake up.. SO.. WHO IS READY FOR A SLEEP OVER?

No?


No one?


Did I go deaf?

Fine.

Back to gross things, one time in high school, I was a little snotty due to the weather or whatever but bet your ass I was at school, Mama wasn't falling for it this time. So, I was sitting in Speech and my long time crush was sitting right in front of me. Things were going just fine until you know, I had to breathe which turned into a cough, which turned into more of a choking OMG I MIGHT BE DYING scene.
In the midst of all of this oxygen deprivation my crush turns around like the knight in shining armor he was to make sure I was okay and right when our eyes meet, a unknown, slimy, foreign object breaks loose from the comfort and secrecy of my own throat and SLINGSHOTS ONTO MY DESK ABOUT 2 MILLIMETERS FROM MY BOY.

I will never, ever forget the look on his face.

I casually wiped it off with my sleeve and immediately wanted to just go ahead and die.

Suffocating would have been more appropriate then ever having to show my phlegm to the boy whom I drew hearts around in my head.

WHY DOES THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME.
WHY.

2. Another thing pertaining to allergies, this week I have found myself with another issue. I have geared myself up with Mucinex, Kleenex, Windex, all of the above and nothing was really helping.

So, my manager de la polo told me to try something called a Netti-pot. I'm sure thats not how you spell it, but that looks okay to me. It's irrelavant really. It's a snot-pot.

The way this genie pot is supposed to work is -
1.You fill it up with warm water, mix in some saline mixture that it comes with
2. Shake it up, make sure it's all ready to rock your snot
3. Lean over a sink and put the spout part on one of your nostrils
4. While still leaning over, tilt head and open mouth and wait for magic to happen.

5. Pray you don't drown standing up.


I don't know if anyone else has used this Voo-doo magic before but it is a sight to be seen. I'm standing there bent at waist, head cocked, mouth open and NOTHING IS HAPPENING.

Then, it starts to trickle around in my nasal cavity which then makes my eyes water because it feels like there are bugs in my nose, gross.. And finally, the salt water mixture starts to drip out of the other side of my nose.

Nice.

Except now it's kinda going down my throat too.

So, I'm spitting it out, and watching it pour out of my face. Things are getting serious.

It wasn't as magical as I was hoping so I tried the other side.
More success, water is now in a sweet snotty stream coming from my nostril.

Feeling proud of myself I repeated the steps on both sides until the snot-pot was empty then checked the manual for the next step of recovery.


6. BLOW.

DO NOT COMPLETE STEP 6 IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH OR DON'T THINK GROSS THINGS ARE INTEREESTING!!


I was pretty sure that I would never have to blow my nose or sneeze, or think about things snot related ever again.

It was like a fountain of all things mucus-y. (This is a really sexy post. I don't know why I'm single. Beats me.)


Moral of the story, if youz gahtz ta snaht... youz gahtzta pot!


And finally, for all 500 points on the gross things scale....

3. My dad is a Bingo King. Part time Mouch (3/4ths couch 1/4th man), part time golf fan, FULL TIME BINGO MAN. And I'm pretty sure these genes are partially genetic because I too, enjoy to Bingo it up with the father figure. So almost every time I am in town we go play. It's a bonding experience and I have a trusty rabbits foot on my necklace errrr something so the two of us make a good winning duo.

One night a few nights after Christmas, we set our sights on the smoke-filled bingo hall. We find a seat and wait for the game to start.

A nice lady sits down across from us and begins to tell me what she got from her boyfriend for Christmas. (I didn't ask, or initiate conversation)

My boyfriend got me this ring for Christmas. But it don't fit so I just wear it on my thumb.


Oh.. It doesn't fit? That's a shame. Silly men, he should have known your size!

Hua hua hua, yeaaah, I know but he got it fer a good deal at the pawn shop and he said this ring reminded him of me and he knew it was perfect fer me.


Oh. Pawn shop. Right.

Well, glad he got a good deal on it then..

My dad is currently pretending not to hear this whole conversation so I am stuck in this lovely crime scene alone.

Man and do you know what this bag is for? *As she hoists the bag on the table. It looks similar to a personal lunch cooler thing with the long straps*

Um, no ma'am, I don't. Do tell, what is that bag for?

Well, I had got a real bad staph infection about six er seven months ago and I never went to the doctor cuz I thought it would go away but it didn't so finally I went and got it checked out and that little bitty staph infection had caused a real big whole in my stomach about the size of your fist.


*About to hurl already* Ouch. Yikes, sorry to hear that. Hope you get better.. *Turn to face my dad, WHO IS NOW GONE. HE MYSTERIOUSLY VANISHED LEAVING ME WITH STAPH PAWN SHOP LADY.*

Yeah so now I have this bag that I have to carry with me cuz it's hooked up to that staph hole and it drains the pus from the infection right into this little bag so I don't get sick no more.


OH. MY. GOD.


So, this lady, who had previously just SLAMMED this bag down on this table revealed to me that she not only is a walking pus-ball, but that the grossness IS IN THE BAG THAT SHE CARRIES AROUND.


Vomit Comet, and KDR is no where to be found.


I will NEVER forget you, staph infection lady. You are just one of many shining stars that hang out in the fine bingo establishment.




Bbbbbuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhllllllllllll!

Texas State cares about my feelings.

Texas is experiencing an Ice Age. I'm sure its not near as bad as it is anywhere North of this great state but still. It's way too cold for people who own a few hoodies and fashion scarves for warmth. It is too cold here.

In Dallas, where two of my quadparents live, sprinkled with some sisters, a brother in law and extended famliy and friends, are all on their SECOND snow day. (Dad doesn't count, he's retired, and pretty much on a snow day for life.)

Now, I understand that you usually need snow or ice for PAUSE

Roommate 1 was just standing in the living room complaining about the cold when she sneezed unexpectedly and said "Woah, I almost peed my pants and hocked a loogie at the same time."\
Roommate 2 is currently trying to find the dead fetus that is in our refigerator. Its like opening a coffin everytime you open the door but between the three of us no one has had time to check it out.

Thats what ice days are for. Which leads me back to my story where I was rudely interupted by Miss Polly Pee Pants- I had to go to class at 9 am. Yes, front row junkie was there.

It was 19 degrees outside and Texas State sent out emails saying that Texas is experiencing rolling black outs and so many of the buildings may not have power or heat. BUT CLASS IS STILL IN SESSION, FOLKS!

It's just a really super great thing that I brought my oil lantern with me.

Anyway, after hearing a story from FRJ that she "really thought about staying in bed this morning, more than she ever has ever, ever she decided to come to class, and that was the mature thing to do."

BEESH YOU ARE 32 YEARS OLD. YOU BETTER MAKE THE MATURE CHOICES IN LIFE!

We ended class by drawing a picture with our nondominant hand of our favorite childhood teacher. Mine ended up looking like a frightening ghost image of Mrs. Maloney. She's definitely not a ghost or scary. And we left. I updated my facebook by simply stating:

19 degrees, possible blackouts on campus but no, Texas State is just gonna carry on like were not all gonna freeze to death. Go Bobcats.

Then I came home and took a nap fully preparing myself to brave the elements for my 2 o'clock class when I woke up at 11:30 with 354 messages saying that the big decision makers of Bobcat land decided that all classes were cancelled after 12:00.

AND THEN- I found out that my loving, very understanding, not at all slave-like establishment ALSO CLOSED DOWN, and might be closed all night.

Thank you Jesus, I knew you'd pull through.

It's my party and I'll butt dial if I want to.

SO- After the cupcake and rainbow card, and our free night stay at the ER it was my time to shine.

After my nap on Friday, I decided to head home to the Mothership for a little R&R with her and to get my laundry done for me to spend a little QT. My plan was to lay on the couch like the fat slug I felt like but the gods had a different plan for me. I got ahold of my friend FarleyBoyd and she wanted to take me out for my birthday.

I put on my fanciest attire and my boots and headed out. Some little hookerbot from my old highschool was there and meanmugged me the whole time so I just whipped my weave back and forth and flirted with everyone in the bar until she disappeard--- or I got cross-eyed-gonna hurl-forgot my tights were sagging-drunk. THANK GOD some little grungy muppet that FarelyBoyd brought along drove me and my crapwagon home. I hopped out the jag silver tripod and really wasn't prepared for what was going to happen. As soon as FarleyBoyd and the muppet were out of sight I blew chunks all over my moms front yard.

Oh, sorry Mom. I forgot to tell you that. My bad playa. Anyway, spent a great weekend with my mamallama and got a phone call from my Papasito and he asked if I could make it home by noon on Sunday because he wanted to take me shopping for the day of my birth.

CHA-CHING.

Promptly Sunday morning I gave some lovin' to my momma and headed home. I made it just in time to find my dad and stepmotha outside and had to excuse myself to run upstairs to make sure there weren't any dead bodies upstairs. I came in my apt to find that Willy Wonka had recently visited and maybe a frat or two. IT WAS SO GROSS, and my dad doesn't take kindly to dirty but I had no time to clean. Not even enough time to throw everything in my closet. Nothing.

Blah blah blah, sorry this entry has no humor, yours truly is a little under the weather.

ANYWAY- as we were heading to the mall we were pulling out of my complex and I was building a mental list of what loot I was going to get when stepmom said "Oh, what did that car say? Just married?"

They reversed the car and I turn to see a blue mustang with "TO: DOOZER" and "BAM!" written on it, and I don't know why it didn't register to me. I honestly thought someone else had the nickname Doozer in my complex and right as I was about to sayyyy that I looked over to see Stepmom holding a camera in my face to capture this unbelieveable moment.


NO. FREAKING. WAY. I literally stopped breathing. My other half of the Quad-parents purchased me an '08 Blue beautiful Mustang. And she's all mine baby. NO MORE CREEPIN' IN THE JEEP!

So let me take this moment to send a shout out to King Daddy Rabbit and Victoria Beckham. Thanks y'all.

If someone doesn't fall in love with me in this new slab (slow loud and bangin') then I'll die alone.


Last night my little hoodrats took me out for my birthday and I again OD'ed on Rumple and Jack In The Box and found myself on the balcony with my roommate and other folks wearing no pants.

(If you know me at all, you know sans-pants is a frequent thing with me. IDK why, man.)

Anyway, somehow in this pantsless parade I ended up butt dialing (Can you butt dial with no pockets?) KDR at 2:30 in the morning. Embarrassing. It's never cool or classy to accidentally call your dad at that time or in that state of mind. Sorry dood.

FTHBA.

Fun Time Had By All. (FTHBA) Use it, spread the word-- my mom will love it. I've had a pretty eventful 10 days.
Let's start over, let's journey back to last Monday when it was Roommate 2's birthday. It was the big two-five for her so she wasn't in such a celebratory mood. I made her a card with a rainbow and cupcakes on it and taped on some Snickers that I found in my room and that seemed to do the trick. She got stoned and went to bed. Maybe a pizza was ordered or something, not so sure.

Fastforward to Thursday and it was Roommate 1's 21st birthday. 21st birthdays, (for those of you who have forgotten) are the most important and sloppy of all birthdays. So we take little Flavalicious out promptly at midnight and throw shots at her and around 1:30 someone came to find me and told me she was calling all dinosaurs (puking) in the bathroom, so I walked her out and took her home. On the way home the sweet little nugget sprayed my car with her rejected shots all the way down my car. Perfect. That's what my car needed.

Side note: My car is a piece. It was not purchased as a piece but over the years of treating it like an Army tank and just random unfortunate events happening to it, it just doesnt look pretty. 1. I have backed into someone (who told me she was pregnant afterwards, of course. They're always pregnant somehow) so the back of it is a little crumpled and the same said event put a hole in my tail light, so I patched it up personally. 2. The headlights are foggy. It looks like a took it on an underwater adventure through the deep mossy wetlands. 3. The back window stopped working a while ago because the motor went out, so it is beautifully fashioned with duct tape, packing tape, and scotch tape. 4. I had to get new tires about a semester ago, and the tire place called my mom and told them that one of my wheels was cracked and needed to be replaced immediately or one day I could be left as a tripod on the side of 35. And being the wonderful Momma she is, she told them to go ahead and replace it. They told her that they wouldn't have a silver one (to match) until the following week. So she just let them put on anything they had right then and upon picking up my car I saw that I now was the proud owner of a black, hotwheel-ish, chromed out wheel. Notice I said WHEEL? Just one. That means on the duct tape, pregnant smasher, fog machine, I HAVE 3 silver stock wheels and one pimped out black wheel.

So, to add to all of that beauty- I now had Roomies stomach parts on it. CAH-YOOT.

-Anyway, poor baby ends up getting alcohol poisoning, and has an anxiety attack so we had to spend the next EIGHT hours in the ER. Which I totally didn't mind being there for, I wouldn't have prefered to pick up a dead body in the morning, but still. I had to listen to so many crazy things in the ER. Around 5 or 6 in the morning there was a woman in the room across from the one we were in and I became scared for her life. She was moaning like a cow in labor. "Nuuuuurrrrsseee.... NUUUURRSSEEE...." (Pause for 2 minutes) "OOOHOHHH, NUUUUURRRSEEE... the PAAAAAAIIIIINN."

I don't know if she knew that she had a call button attached to her bed, or if the nurses just quit answering her because she was so ridiculous. She may have been losing a leg, or having a baby, I'm not sure, but the noises coming from her room could have meant either one.

You can learn a lot in an emergency room.