Saturday, May 1, 2010

...and then I hit the floor

So I was at work doing my job. I am a frequent visitor of that place. But honestly I had just recently returned from a short hiatus that involved a lovely trip to Arizona- that place where it doesn't snow (much, except maybe in Flagstaff). Despite the weather, I was kind of happy to be back seeing as how I am one of those freaky weird people who likes having a routine and thinks that vacation is slightly stressful.

Having missed my coworkers and even a few of my clients, I thought the day was going well. And then it hit me... or rather I hit it... or, even better, my elbow hit it- it being the countertop- and my world went spinning or crashing down, whichever saying you prefer, they're both accurate.

I began to walk back to my computer, feeling a sadly familiar dizzy sensation with each step. With my back turned to my client, I was hoping she hadn't quite noticed my teetering footsteps. As I reached my computer I could convince myself to do nothing except rest my forehead against it. Try as might, I couldn't convince myself to stand erect after I had placed my forehead on the monitor. I couldn't move.

So I told me coworker that I needed him to take the receipt back to the client because I was going to pass out. How did I know this for sure? I'll get to that. He grabbed me by the waist and tried to take me somewhere to sit but I declined. I am stupidly stubborn sometimes. I knew I was going to pass out but I decided to stay standing? Idiot. As he's walking back from delivering the receipt apparently I slumped onto the counter and then my knees gave out as I gracefully swooned into his arms. Honestly, I think he's a lucky guy to have been able to play the Knight in Shining Armor. He said he caught me much more gracefully than I fell... dangit.

Suddenly I was somewhere else entirely, or at least I thought I was. I was dreaming within a fraction of a second. So when I woke up to Ryan standing over me, Richard propping up my feet, and Brendan on the phone saying something about his employee passing out I was caught off guard- as anyone would be. I immediately tried to sit back up. Why I did this I really don't know because that's really not a brilliant idea after fainting. But obviously my faculties were not at their peak.
I love hearing my coworkers tell the story. I turned blue, I was out for fifteen seconds, I wasn't breathing. It sounds terribly dramatic and dangerous. And yet it continues to make me laugh. If I had started seizing or peed my pants I probably wouldn't be so keen to laugh about it. Kevin started laughing because he said I reminded him of the fainting goats. Well that's flattering.
Yep, that's real. Watch it for yourself here.

I really came back to when my boss said something to the paramedics on the phone about an ambulance. I immediately retorted, "I don't need an ambulance!" There are two reasons for my vehement decline of their services. One, I don't like paying for medical expenses and I am stupidly stubborn about seeing doctors. Unbelievable, I know. I'll spend $100 on a pair of jeans but nothing for my health. Two, I knew what had caused my little dizzy spell.

Yes folks, it was my elbow. Because I hit my elbow I blacked out. It's embarrassing, nay, even mortifying. And yet, so ridiculously funny. My friends tried to hit it later that night to see if I'd do it again. First off, nice. As if I'd like to pass out twice in a day. Second, punching my elbow is not going to make me pass out. But how did I know this? Oh, I've done it before. Don't worry, it's normal for people to hit their elbow and pass out maybe once in their lifetime. I'm apparently the only idiot who does it twice though. I called my dad and he just laughed, recalling the incident in high school (imagine waking up to your choir director poised directly above your head) where I'd done it previously. Still, my dad could have shown a little sympathy.

They took me to the doctor the first time and he said it had something to do with a vasovagal response. I included the wikipedia page in case you think I'm making this up. Although it says nothing concerning elbow hitting.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Dear Cafe Rio

Please don't make me throw up in front of my Spanish tutor again.

Thank you.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Oh Here I Am!

Sorry guys. Sorry for taking a little leave-of-absence. Relax, I'm back. In honor of my return to the blogging world I have decided to post a few poems that have gracefully fallen from my lips recently. I was just kidding about the graceful part but you could say they fell in a certain manner I suppose.

This first one comes from a dialogue I tend to have with myself on occasion. Yeah, I talk to myself.

My Heart is Broken
One:
The pain in my chest is more than I can bear-
Oh, why this blasted eternal ache? 
No God, this life is never fair
If my heart only continues to break.

Two:
Wait, what?
Your heart is broken? you must be dead
Your logical fallacies are hurting my head.
A heart cannot be broken, as you say
but after it stops it can rot and decay.
If rot and decay this moment do beset
then I hope, dear one, your mind is cleared of all regrets.
For soon your thoughts will be no more.
Which will spare us who think your whinings a bore.

This second poem came about when my professor asked me to freewrite about the word "death-marked." Naturally I thought of Muppet Treasure Island and began rhyming from there.
 Death-Marked
Upon my brow, I swore there lied
A funny mark thereon that tied
My life to death, quite ominously
Man and woman, both, avoided me.


Don't worry, I know they're weak sauce. I'm taking a poetry writing class in the fall, that should help.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Fashion- Oh How I Love It

Again, it's one of those things I don't like to admit to. When people ask me where I purchased this shirt or that sweater I will tell them, but I won't like it. I feel like a snob. So I usually add something like, "But I bought it at the outlet!" It makes me feel better, what?

I get this warm fuzzy feeling when people tell me I look cute. Sure, I shrug it off like it's nothing, but deep inside I hoard up all of those moments and when I feel particularly scrubbish I take a peek at them to rejuvenate my fashionista spirits. Something so materialistic probably shouldn't make me quite so happy.
But I had one such moment in class the other day. A friend of mine who's not yet an English major but soon will be said, "You have cool color constructions. I like the evolution of that." Yeah buddy. You know who you are. Bless you.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Book Blurred Vision

As if I've been drinking, every word I type is doubled-- like there's a mirror image just underneath every single letter. Have I been drinking? you ask. I reply no. Although I'm sure alcohol is absolutely titillating for some, it really has never called my name.

So what is it exactly that has blurred my vision? Only the few, the proud, and the nerdy can truly know what I'm talking about here. I call it "Book Blurred Vision."

Allow me to backtrack in order to defend myself. My life is careening constantly toward chaos (note the alliteration. Thank you. I hope that last period I typed was really a period and not a comma because I can't tell). I'm exhausted by all of the things I have to do! However, I strangely love it. Snuggly holding me together like my best pair of skinnies, my busy life is actually my best friend. I wouldn't be happy without it.

But I can't always be busy. I'm wearing down. The slight tickle/pain in my throat is a warning of impending doom-- or just a virus, if you prefer me to be non-melodramatic. So today, on this lovely president's day, I did nothing. Nothing, that is, but read a book. Was it for school? Oh no friends. It was a book about werewolves... and it was lovely. It was sad, sweet, tender even. And I enjoyed her writing style and how it changed when she changed the voice as a rhetorical device.

Yes, it was young adult. But for all of you shaking your heads at me, I pose a question: Why would my University bother to require a young adult fiction class if they were worthless? It wouldn't. Therefore, day well spent. I just can't see at the moment. Please excuse any typos.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

For a Friend

I have had a few requests for this magical cookie recipe. It's true, after this many cookies it should be a little above par. If you'll all forgive me, I must admit that these are my favorite cookies ever. I realize that seems a little strange to say about my own cookies but I can't help myself. It is just one of the forces that moves me to make more all of the time. As I'm walking home from school, on a very regular basis, I crave these daggum cookies.

So here you are:
3/4 c brown sugar
3/4 c sugar
2 3/4 c flour (add more if your cookies turn out semi-flat)
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp vanilla (real vanilla is better but more expensive, fyi)
2 sticks of butter
2 large eggs
Guittard milk chocolate chips (this is very important, don't skimp on the chips, these are the best chocolate chips I've ever had)
Reeses peanut butter chips (I've never tried generic, good luck if you so choose to sojourn down that course)

Heat oven to 375. Mix sugars and butter. Add in vanilla and eggs. Mix dry ingredients, I usually do flour last. THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PART: Add the chocolate and peanut butter chips to your heart's content. I always believe in very, very fair amounts of peanut butter chips. Scoop small amounts out with a spoon and roll into balls (only if you want shapely cookies, of course). Bake a dozen at a time for no longer than nine minutes. Depending on your oven you may want to bake for less time but I highly discourage baking them longer. That is, unless you're a crunchy cookie person. In which case you probably wouldn't like my cookies- it's the gooier the better for me.

Happy baking my friends! Now I really need to get on to new recipes.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

The Disastrous Dabbling Poet

There are days when I realize I love school. I never want to leave! And then I see the tuition check went through my bank account or two books cost more money than my car (okay, I exaggerate, nothing could cost more than my car).

Where else can you sit and laugh as you discuss literature and poetry with people who actually know somewhat of what they're spouting off about? I love it.

Today I discovered a veritable genius among poets. Marianne Moore's poem Poetry has left me feeling inspired to write some. And yes, I do dabble in poetry (when I use the word dabble feel free to imagine me snubbing all of you as I pretend to be superior with my dabbling habits, just realize I'm kidding). I write a fairly crappy poem usually twice a week and bravely put it online for the world to see. Occasionally, I write poetry and store it on my computer, never to be seen by human eyes- that means it's really crappy. Or really sentimental, I don't believe anyone needs to see those.
(Doesn't she just look awesome?)

But when I say she inspires me to write some, I mean she inspires me to write good poetry; to experiment with lines and structure and to know exactly why I use each word and each break. Wish me luck and read Marianne Moore.

By the way, her poem Poetry is where my blog title comes from, if you wanted to know.