Friday, July 29, 2011

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Random Thought #3

WTF is baking soda?

Back story: Last Friday I went to Starbucks and got a venti skinny Carmel Macchiato. I put it in my passenger's side cup holder because I had a bottle of water in the driver's side. I turned the corner and the whole fucking thing tipped onto the floor of the passenger's side. THE WHOLE THING! I hadn't even had a sip yet. So I was in the middle of traffic and could do nothing be cuss and drive. I got to a place where I could turn off and got all of the napkins in my car and soaked up as much as I could. But I only had about twenty fast food napkins and 24 oz of liquid. So I went to the store and bought an entire roll of paper towels and soaked more up. Three days later it started to smell. I realize that I should have done more sooner but I was really busy and I forgot.  So I started to read online what I could do without pulling the whole carpet out. One thought was to get rid of the odor to put baking soda on it. I had also tried kids n pets and soaked the floor the day before. I put the baking soda on and watched it turn to paste. Fantastic. I waited another day and vacuumed up the paste but the smell was still there but a little different now it smell like sour milk and baking soda paste. So the next day I put another box of baking soda onto it. As I was doing that I pondered the above question.

It still smells. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Looking your best.

This morning I woke up late and didn't have time to shower. I threw my hair in a pony and got dressed and  with no make up flew out the door. On my way to work I remembered that the office supply guy was coming today and I instantly cursed the gods. I have the biggest crush on him. He is so adorable in a nerdy, cute way. And for some reason whenever he is supposed to come in I always look like complete shit. I should really just stop caring because it's not like I have a chance anyway.  I don't know if he is in a relationship or anything because I am unbelievably shy and can't talk to him.  One time he came in and smiled at me and I felt that hot blush creeping up my face and neck and speed walked to the bathroom to calm down. I'm sure he thought I had some sort of gastrointestinal problem or something. Ok, next time we order supplies I'm going to make it a goal to say at least a complete sentence to him. And I'm going to set three alarm clocks so I have time to primp myself so I can at least look human. I'm all about accomplishing goals this year. What's the worst that could happen?

Monday, July 25, 2011

Rain

It's raining as usual, but to tell the truth I love the rain. I love to go out and stand in it, let it hit my face. It is the most relaxing thing to me. Nothing puts me to sleep like the sound of rain hitting the roof. Rain is such a constant for me that if it doesn't rain for weeks I get depressed. I especially love it right now because I'm pretty sure they will cancel my softball game tonight. I am nursing a touch of an illness they call "hangover". I'm exhausted after an extremely sunny weekend. My poor back is so red. Damn Scandinavian skin. But back to the rain. They (weathermen) were calling for thundershowers but I haven't seen any lightning yet but I love that too. I just want to go home and watch the storm pass and relax.

Update: In case you cared, softball was not canceled and we lost our first playoff game 9-8.

Random Thought #2 James Bond

Don't you think its time that James Bond settled down. I mean of course a relationship with an international spy has to be hard but don't you think he should start looking for a lasting one. Girl after girl, after girl, after girl. And most of them damsels in distress. Maybe he should look for someone based on how they can handle themselves or just maybe a regular everyday woman without a tragic back story.  And of course she would have to be able to deal with the fact that he's an international man of mystery and she can't know where he is all the time. But then he's got to be close to retirement by now. It just seems like enough is enough, the man has had to have some sort of disease by now. Plus he is always running around and that has to be hard on a body no matter how well you take care of yourself. He should just buy an island and relax for the rest of his life with a wonderful woman at his side. Pass the torch to the next 00 agent. Just a thought.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Living in the town you grew up in

I have lived and worked in this town all of my 26 and a half years. I have traveled all over the US and Europe. But I have always returned home to the same place. I love it here, and I hate it here. I know 50% of the population of this town. I can’t go to the grocery store without running into someone I know. I used to hate going to the store with my mom when I was young because she could never just run in for a second. I hate it when I see someone and hope they don’t see me. I usually hide around the corner then stalk them so I don’t have to talk to them. But inevitably I have to go into small talk with someone. Unbearable small talk. Like "the weather sucks, but what do you expect it is Western Washington, HA HA HA." It’s always the same. I have had many jobs in this town too. So when running into old customers I get the "You look really familiar. Where do I know you from?" I have had many different kinds of jobs, burger flipper, deli waitress, copy girl, flower deliverer, tanning salon worker, but for the last six years I have worked for an attorney. Mostly the clients are from around town and have lived here for some time. Today my second grade teacher came in. She told me that one of the joys of her job is that she gets to see her students grow up into adults and then complimented me on the woman I have become. I hated my second grade teacher. She was mean and actually pulled me out if the room by my seven-year-old ear once. Now to give her credit I was no angel when I was young. I was an only child with a need for attention. I had a really hard time in class because of my very short attention span and once I kicked a boy in the balls and she had to send me to the principals office*. But today she said that I was never any trouble. Which leads me to believe that she has absolutely no idea who the hell I am. Or maybe I was not as bad as I have been told I was. Nevertheless, It was very nice of her to tell me how I have grown into a nice woman because she is the first person to tell me that.

*Not my first or last trip to the principal, in fact, it was my third time. My first trip was in kindergarten when I walked into another classroom and dumped a whole cup of rice on the floor then ran away. My second time was in first grade. I got bored and decided to take some crayons and draw on the carpet. My parents were gone at the time and my poor grandpa was watching me. When they called him to tell what I had done, he sent me to bed without dinner and that was the most punishment I had ever had at the time. I cried and cried. Now thinking back my grandpa probably was appalled at my actions because until then I was an angel to him.  By the time I graduated to middle school I had become very good friends with my principal. We had an understanding. I was a good kid who got into trouble a lot. Funny enough, when I went to middle school he was promoted to that school too.  I’m quite sure that he was following me.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Fireworks!!!!

On the Fourth of July or Independence Day as it is named, I usually go to my friend's family cabin. It is about four miles from where I live. I don't usually like going too far from home because of all the drunk drivers, which are very common in the particular area I live. My friend's family is very welcoming and makes you feel right at home. In fact, I like to consider them my family because my family is not close anymore. Her grandma is the sweetest lady and my grandparents all passed away before I was 19. They hug you when they see you and immediately give you a nickname. My nickname is Veronica. Like Betty and Veronica. Since my name is Virginia and no one can ever remember it, people will call me all sorts of V names. They knew this when they gave me the name, so Veronica being the sexy one in the comics is a very awesome nickname in my opinion. There is always a TON of food but I always bring something because that’s what polite people do. So this year I brought deviled eggs on request. I make some killer deviled eggs. I know they aren't hard to make but most people love them and I have definitely perfected my secret recipe. I only made a dozen eggs, making 24 deviled eggs, I left the room for fifteen minutes and they were gone. I guess they were a hit. Have I ever mentioned that my two best friends kind of despise each other? Well it’s a topic for another blog, lets just leave at they tolerate each other because one is dating the other’s brother. Oh yeah, one big happy family around here. So it’s pretty entertaining to watch them tip toe around each other during family functions. I used to have to play referee but now I just sit back and relax because their problems with each other don’t include me. So I mingled with the family and played with the kids and ate a boatload of food. Watched a skydiving video from one of the kids I used to babysit, terrifying. Soon it got dark enough for a fire and some fireworks. One of my friends cousins is gay. He always brings a date and they are always hot as hell. I love to fake flirt with gay guys. It is fun because there is really no threat of anything happening so you don’t have to worry about the regular jitters of flirting. Kind of like practice flirting. So there I was flirting with this fine-ass guy by the fire when one of the fireworks tipped over. Everyone ran. The guy I was talking to screamed like a girl, and grabbed the back of my shirt and used me as a human shield. This is what I get for flirting. After we lived through our ordeal, he excused himself and asked me if I could pretend it never happened. I said fat-chance, since everyone saw it. I can only imagine the new nick name I’ll have next year.