Payback’s a … Thursday, Jun 11 2009

I am most probably the worst reply-er to email. I’m horrible. Takes me forever. And that’s the only way to hear from me, as everyone knows I’m terrible at keeping in touch. I call, text occasionally, but unless I make arrangements with you, forget it. I don’t forget people, or ignore them on purpose. I just “store stories”. I think of something I need to say to you, think “oh, I’m not going to email about that alone, as I need to write about that other thing too” but then I don’t have the time to go through both the stories at the moment so I postpone the entire email until “I have a better moment”. Which is, well, ‘better moment’ doesn’t exist. We all know that.

Unless you have this lovely calendar from See Jane Work, where ‘Someday’ actually exists! How cool is that? But that’s beside the point.

Well, now I’m getting a taste of my own medicine. I’m anxiously waiting for a reply from my “My School Looks Like An Alien Ship On Google Earth” -friend as well as Ski Guy. How come people aren’t at their computers, just waiting to reply to me when I email them?? Are you trying to tell me they have a life?? How rude.

I now solemnly swear to do everything within my power to fix my abhorrent emailing habits. I promise. Pinkie-swear.

p.s. Yes, you saw correctly. As of now, Ski Guy has his own category.

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Fundamental problems Thursday, Apr 30 2009

It’s First of May celebrations in Finland, so new situations arise. I just received a text message from a friend:

Can I drink champagne that’s four years old? It’s going to taste bad anyways, but am I going to die?

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Conference call, the Teddy style Monday, Apr 27 2009

I had a conversation with my friend, and the mother of my goddaughter today with her on speaker phone so that Teddy could participate too. We were discussing the fate of few of her skirts.

Me: The brown one was cut apart to make Teddy’s leather trousers, wasn’t it?

My Friend, the Mom: Yes, it was. But the black one wasn’t, right? I decided to keep that still.

Me: Oh yeah, that’s true. *pause* You know what could be made of the black one? A biker jacket for Teddy!

the Mom: No, you’re not making a biker jacket to Teddy out of my old leather skirt!

Teddy (that is, my goddaughter in her ’Teddy-voice’): See?! I never get anything! This is so unfair!

Me *laughing*: Teddy, you just got a ton of new things when you visited me.

Teddy *in an innocent voice*: Can I come visit you again?

the Mom: No!

Me: *uncontrollable laughter*

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Early bird gets the worm Friday, Apr 3 2009

That’s what they say, anyways. If you ask me, I’m more inclined to think that it’s also the early worm that gets eaten, but no, you never ask me, do you? You should, really.

No no, it’s few minutes past 6AM, and I’ve been up for about 20 minutes now. And in my desperate attempt to stay awake I’ve re-loaned few books from the school library (conveniently done online, of course!), I’ve paid my cell phone bill, replied to Chimmy, checked the BCF and my email, caught up on Grant Miller Media (loved the piece on same-sex marriages being legalised in Sweden, btw!)…

Second cup of coffee on the way.

I hate mornings, everyone knows that. They also know that I’m not really a people-person before I’ve had my caffeine fix. And I hate getting up. The actual process of getting up, out of the bed, annoys me to no end. It’s so comfortable there, warm and soft and cocooned. The outside world is cold and harsh and one has to do things there. I much prefer staying under my blanket, thank you!

BF has perfected the “wake up ii”-routine. To see the brilliancy of his method, let me start by explaining how my early morning wake-ups usually go.

About 30 minutes before I actually have to get up, the first alarm sounds off. The snooze button has an 8-minute wait. There’s also one other alarm clock set to go off around that period (well, approximately, as it’s a bit of a gamble, you never know exactly when it goes. It doesn’t really go off when you set it to. But it’s cute!). In addition to that, there’s several reminders on my phone with varying intervals. The phone, together with the Random Clock are kept on a self away from my bed, so that I need to get off the bed to turn them off.

Eventually I do get up, after hitting the snooze for half and hour or so. I stumble, shivering (aren’t you always cold when you get up? why is that??) into the kitchen, where, if I’ve been smart, I have coffee ready, as my maker has a timer. Alternatively I wait, hand on coffee pot handle, for my first cup. After I get my first cup of steaming hot coffee, I get on the computer and pretend to do something (like, you know, play Spider Solitaire and call it ‘being productive’) until the caffeine has woken up my brain enough for me to go get dressed.

Now, the BF-way of doing this: When the alarm goes off, he gets up and goes make coffee, leaving me to bed. I usually don’t even notice this. He brings me a cup of coffee, only because he’s evil he puts it on a shelf so close that I can smell it, yet too far to reach without getting out of the bed. After I’ve had the first cup in bed, I’m more fit to make it to the kitchen where he’s making toast and reading the online papers and just being his regular ray of frigging sunshine. The plan is brilliant. It works. It’s also very very evil.

My goddaughter and her Teddy Bear had my favourite method by far, though. They sneaked up to me, shouted out “there’s coffee!”, the Teddy (yes, the Teddy, don’t ask) thrust a bagel in my face: “and bagels!” What can I say, I’m a sucker for bagels. Of course, “there’s coffee. And bagels!” became our new catch phrase after that. *laughs*

I don’t have any bagels.

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Don’t blame me… Monday, Mar 9 2009

… blame Ski Guy. He sent this to me. And now it’s stuck in my head *sings “…wish we coulda help’d ya…”* so I’m passing it along. Absolutely hilarious!

In case you didn’t quite make out the lyrics…

Shiptare Boys

Kosovo

Croatia, Albania, somewhere near Romania
It’s Euro and NATO, why the hell do we go
Priština, blew up huh, head for Macedonia
I’ll race ya

Somewhere far overseas
There’s a place called Kosovo
That’s where you don’t wanna go if you’re Albanian and all

Protecting human rights
Air strikes and fire fights
And we’ll be dropping our bombs
Wherever Serbian bad guys hide
Just up from Kosovo

Somalia, Grenada, or rescuing Kuwait yeah
We screwed ya Rwanda, wish we coulda helped ya
Iraqi embargo, that’s where got hustled

Ooo so now we’re helping out in Kosovo
We’ll kick some ass
And then we’ll see how it goes
And then we really don’t know
Good luck to Kosovo

Milo-so-vitch, you sorry son of a bitch

Every time we go
To little places like Kosovo
We never really know what happens after we go
Tough luck for Kosovo

Croatia, Albania, somewhere near Romania
It’s Euro and NATO, why the hell do we go
Priština, blew up huh, head for Macedonia

Well we’re heading down to Kosovo
We’ll kick some ass
And then we’ll see how it goes
And then we really don’t know
That sucks for Kosovo

Somalia, Grenada, or rescuing Kuwait yeah
We screwed ya Rwanda, wish we coulda helped ya
Iraqi embargo, how it is we don’t know

Ooo I wanna take you down to Kosovo
We’ll get there fast
And then we’ll take it slow
That’s where we wanna go
Way down to Kosovo

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A complaint Wednesday, May 28 2008

My Friend With Huge Boobs wants to make a complaint. Apparently every time she comes over and visits me time flies by and she ends up slightly drunk.

 

Weird thing, no?

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An e-mail that made me scream and jump Thursday, Apr 24 2008

I arrived home tired and bored and disappointed and checked my mail. Still nothing from either one of the NHL people, BF’s boss or The Hot Dream Guy. I decided to check some blogs, and the BCF, and left the tab with my email open. After a while I checked the email tab.

1 new mail.

I got all excited and tingly when I hit the ‘refresh’. It was the recruiting mailing list newsletter. How utterly disappointed.

After some more bloghopping and general Internet ennui I checked the email one last time, planning to go and get ice cream and watch Babylon 5.

1 new mail.

Thinking “party adverts? library’s please return -notices? what’s going to disappoint me this time?” I hit ‘refresh’.

“Subject: thesis.” You know how sometimes your brain can go through a million things in the time it takes you to move your eyes from ’subject’ to the sender, or the message? I though it was a reply from a school friend of mine. Or maybe my prof found that “economics of networks for dummies” I was asking for as the networks make zero sense to me and reading about them makes me feel stupid and small. Then I saw the sender and the message:

“Hi [ii],

I got your mail through [Miss D], I’d be happy to help… [general info on how and when to reach him]

[The Hot Dream Guy]“

*insert ii jumping up and down and screaming*

After some (very unladylike) jumping and screaming I reach for my phone and call My Friend With Huge Boobs. “He replied! [The Hot Dream Guy] replied! *screaming*” She’s happy for me, but dismisses me in order to continue vacuuming (seriously, that womans priorities!) She tells me to call BF. Which was already next on my list.

“[TheHotDreamGuy]repliedjustnowandnowyoudon’thavetokickyourboss’ass!!” I exclaim as soon as he picks up.

BF *as if nothing was unusual*: Hi honey! How are you?

Me: [TheHotDreamGuy]repliedjustnowandnowyoudon’thavetokickyourboss’ass!

BF: ooookay… did you OD on coffee again?

Me *taking a deep breath*: I said, [The Hot Dream Guy] replied just now and now you don’t have to kick your boss’ ass! That’s brilliant, isn’t it?!

BF: Sorry, what’s brilliant? I think I lost hearing from my other ear.

Me: [BF]!!

BF *laughs*: It’s great, honey, really, truly great! I’m happy for you.

Me *still on hyperdrive*: I’m happy for me too!

BF: Okay, listen, I have to go. We have [a thing] in a minute and the other guys think I’m talking to some looney.

Me: Is [our mutual friend Perfect Morning-After Voice] there?

BF: yes.

Me: Oooh, tell him I said hi.

BF *to the side*: ii says hi.

*something on the background*

Me: What was that?

BF: [Perfect Morning-After Voice] said ‘that explains the weird call’.

Me *exclaiming*: [The Hot Dream Guy] replied and is happy to help me!

BF: right. okay. bye midget.

 

Luckily for me not only is BF used to these calls, but he has made a fair share of them himself. Last year I had half the team singing “Born in the USA” to me over the phone before the the USA game. Only they didn’t know the song, apart from the “born… in the U S A!” part, so it was basically two minutes of that. I was visiting Old Dragon at the time.

I still cannot believe The Hot Dream Guy was so enthusiastic to help me! *grin*

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Presentation, My Friend With Huge Boobs -style Wednesday, Apr 16 2008

Last Thursday My Friend With Huge Boobs was supposed to give a presentation about her thesis. On the morning of the said presentation we spoke on the phone.

My Friend With Huge Boobs: I have no idea what to wear!

I suggested several outfits, from what I remembered her to have. She didn’t feel like any of them.

My Friend With Huge Boobs: It has to be something comfortable as I’ll have to stand there, in front of everyone…

Then she carried on for bout 20 minutes about how idiotic it was that we have to give a presentation on paper everyone has to read in advance for the meeting.

My Friend With Huge Boobs: That’s it! I’m coming naked! I’m just going to say ‘I didn’t come up with anything to wear, so I came naked!’”

She didn’t, in the end.

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More on ugly face and boobs Friday, Feb 22 2008

Putting on makeup and fighting with my face (Bad Face Day) reminded me of a conversation I had with BF over the holidays…

Me: I’m ugly.

BF (Having heard this Declaration of Ugliness a gazillion times): Yes, you are.

Me: What?!? You’ve really got to work on this whole boyfriend-thing. You’re not supposed to agree with me. You’re supposed to say “no, you’re not, it’s all in your head, you just think you do, but really, you look just perfect”. Got it?

BF: Yes.

Me: I’m ugly.

BF: No, you’re not, it’s all in your head, you just think you do, but really, you look just perfect.

Me: Aww, thank you! I love you. And I really think we’re going to make a good boyfriend out of you one day.

BF: I am a good boyfriend.

Me: No, you’re not. You said I’m ugly.

BF: I didn’t say you’re ugly.

Me: You agreed with me when I said I’m ugly. That’s the equivalent of saying I’m ugly.

BF: *dry voice, shaking his head* You should run for office.

* * * * *

The other day My Friend With Huge Boobs and I were chatting about shopping for lingerie (in the school cafe, no less!) The transcript would read something like this.

My Friend With Huge Boobs: Sometimes it’s really nice to shop for underwear. You find a ton of things and they fit. But sometimes, you can try on a huge pile of stuff and nothing fits! It’s so weird.

Me: I guess it depends on a day.(Note: I meant that some days you’re bloated, or you have your periods or something like that.)

My Friend With Huge Boobs: You mean, some days your boobs just won’t behave?

Me: *laughing* Yeah. Bad Boobs Day.

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Medical issues were just the beginning… Wednesday, Feb 20 2008

As it was brought to my attention by someone who shall remain unnamed for now (*cough*Sarah*cough*) that I was only getting abuse from My Friend With Huge Boobs, I thought I’d share some other stories of my friends… And really, it’s not all about giving me crap!

A friend of mine returned from her 4-month work trip from Sierra Leone. Upon arriving to Finland the temperature difference of 30 degrees had its effect on her skin, especially around her nose.

My Friend Who Visits Third World Countries: Mom, I really think my nose is falling off.

Her mom: The skin is just a bit dry, it’s not falling off.

My Friend Who Visits Third World Countries: *notices a funny patch of skin next to her knee* Mom, look at my knee. I think I have brain cancer.

Her mom: *not even looking at her knee* Good thing you didn’t choose med-school.

* * * * *

A random comment said way back by an old friend of mine, let’s call her A (that’s her initial, so there is actually some logic).

My Friend A: Do you know that my school looks like a space-ship on Google Earth?

* * * * *

BF and I weren’t even a couple yet, but we were good friends. I cooked dinner to our group of friends, and when the dessert was served (very simple, ice cream and chocolate sauce) he turned to me (to thank for the entire meal, I later found out).

BF: I think I just fell in love with you.

Me: Man, you’re easy. That’s just melted chocolate.

* * * * *

Another conversation with BF. I was snappy for some (really good) reason.

Me: Oh, drop the sad little puppy act, it doesn’t look good on you.

BF: *flirtatiously* I thought everything looked good on me.

Me: *huffing* Ha! In you dreams.

BF: You should know, you’re playing lead in most of them!

Me: *faking indignation* “Most”? Just “most“? I’m hurt, BF, I’m hurt. I should have thought I’m all you dream about.

BF: Yes, well, there are the Laker-girls.

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