I'm a bit of a freak myself, so normally I'd be happy about this sort of thing. But not these people. I was looking at some of the people in my training class at work and just wondering to myself, "What the hell am I doing here?" The Sesame Street "One of these things is not like the other..." song started running through my head as I realized that I was the one who was the outcast. The job is nothing I would have ever thought that I'd be doing, but it's a steady job with good benefits, and it pays the bills. I need health care, so I can't be too choosy or wild with my job picking right now. And I don't mind it, I'd just rather be doing something that doesn't stifle my creativity to the point of where it is almost suffocating to death. But we do what we have to do. And until I get motivated enough (and have enough money) to make any major changes, here I will be, chugging along. Man, I really didn't mean to go into that much of a tangent - I just wanted to describe the latest weirdo in my class. She joins the ranks with The Dunce and the Jon Waters Movie Wannabe (aka the Bewigged Marshmallow Woman). I don't know what to call this one. She looks homeless. And like she may be the world's oldest living virgin. Let's call her Homeless Mary. Anyway, H.M. is a frumpy, dumpy, mousy woman who is always showing up with ratty hair. I was studying her the other day during class when the greatest thing happened: she had to blow her nose. That's not the great part, obviously - it's how she did it that had me reeling. She was wearing a red turtleneck, and she reached her hand down inside the front of the neck and way down toward her left boob, which practically sits in her lap. She reached into her bra, pulled out a tissue, and proceeded to blow her nose. I just sat there staring at her, bewildered. THEN, she took the tissue, put her hand BACK down the neck of her turtleneck and placed it by her right boob. I fought off a huge fit of laughter as I thought to myself, "Oh. That must be where the used ones go," and then wished for her to blow her nose again. What the hell is that all about? The woman had a purse right in front of her on the table - couldn't she store her tissues in there? Her boobs are pretty big, so it's not like she's using the tissue to stuff. WTF? Now she's just walking around with one Snot Boob all day. Ew.

Snot Boobs.

To top it all off, when we took our break, H.M. got up and went out of the room in front of me. That's when I noticed what she was wearing. I involuntarily reeled back in horror. Sweatpants. To work. Sweatpants. She left the house wearing sweatpants. Oh no. No. Just, no. I have such a thing about this. (I'm talking about the old-fashioned elastic-bottomed sweatpants here, not any fancy ones like Juicy Couture or anything) First of all - sweatpants to a job like ours is just not acceptable under any circumstances. Secondly, wearing sweatpants outside of the house is only acceptable in two circumstances: 1) You are going to the hospital 2) You're at the gym, and even that is a little frowned upon these days with the availability of wind pants. Other than that, NO sweatpants. There was a boy that I had a thing for in 1993 who showed up wearing sweatpants to a party that I was at. To this day, any mention of his name will result in my mother asking, "Was he wearing sweatpants then, too?" Even my mom knows. My MOM. Lucy reminded me last night of my old sweatpants trick that I used to use with boys. If I liked a guy and was tempted to go see him when I should have been playing it cool, I would put on sweatpants to stop myself from leaving the house. It worked every time. I can't wait to see what Homeless Mary is wearing on Friday now. I'm appalled, yet intrigued. Maybe I should send her an anonymous letter telling her the Universal Sweatpants Rules. But then how would I entertain myself during class? Well, I could always put some pepper around her chair so she'd sneeze and have to grab a tissue. When did I become so evil? Criminy.

_______________________________________

In other randomness, Gwen was commanding everyone to go take this fun test to see what it comes up with for your "type" in terms of looks. Before I cheated, I came up with this guy:

Eh, he's not bad, but not really what my type looks like. But yeah, I'd make out with him. Anyway, then I lied to the test when it came to the part about which guys would actually like me back and came up with this guy:

Aww yeah. He definitely falls into my type. The test told me that I had the tendency to either like "pretty boys" or the cute-but-in-an-unconventional-way ones. Oh, and I like skinny guys, or slender ones with a little bit of a toned bod. Amen! It said some other things that were pretty accurate, too. Fun way to pass the time.

_______________________________________

I love you, but then I hate you, Gap. You gave me jeans that fit. Now all I ask is that you stock some regular length jeans in your boot cut style. Is that too much to ask? I'm not a giraffe - the 'long' ones are a bit ridiculous, especially on someone who is 5'7", and the 'ankle' length are ridiculously short. Why are there no regular length ones in my size in any of your 3 stores in my area or on the internet? Are you trying to make me cry? Are you?? Because it's working.

Co-Worker Fashion Faux Pas of the Day: I'm going to give The Dunce the day off on this one just for the aforementioned Homeless Mary Sweatpants Debacle.

Comments? Sign my guestbook

before & after





2007-09-26 - Follow Me!
2006-09-30 - Site Move & Favorite Entries
2006-09-25 - Evil Easter Bunnies & Rock Climbing!
2006-09-22 - Shameful-Purchase Hiding & A New Dentist Plan
2006-09-19 - Birthday Picture/Video Diary & The Wheelmobile





Copyright 2003-2006 by Sockgirlie. Stealing is wrong.