1. Dear Yahoo!,
is probably not the best way to help people deal with stress. Just sayin.
To be even more thoughtful, the good folks at Yahoo! linked this to an article that tells you exactly how stress is slowly ruining your life, killing you, and making you ugly. Thanks guys! Feeling much less stressed now!
2. I’m a serious dog lover. I call my dog my best fwend, and I’m really only kind of kidding about that. Since my apartment building is lame, I’m poor, and the majority of my time in my apartment is spent sleeping, though, I can’t have a dog of my own right now. Because of that, I vicariously live through the 783827 dog owners I see walking their precious furry friends on my morning and evening commutes to get my canine fix.
I see the same dogs routinely on my commute, but one particular dog had been missing for months. I first noticed him sometime in August or so and instantly fell in love. I’m sure he has a real name, but I call him my Floppy Eared Fwend because he looks like such:
*dies* IS THAT NOT THE MOST PRECIOUS THING YOU’VE EVER SEEN??
The last time I saw my Floppy Eared Fwend was the week before my birthday, which was three months ago. For three months I’ve left my apartment every morning filled with hope that today would be the day I was reunited with my Floppy Eared Fwend, and each day I was let down. It’s been a really rough way to consistently start my mornings for a quarter of the year.
On Tuesday night, I was heading to hip hop and thinking about my Floppy Eared Fwend, as I am apt to do whilst walking where I used to see him, when lo! In the distance: a man and a small white dog. With cautious optimism I picked up my pace. Could it be?
Friends, it was. Indeed, my Floppy Eared Fwend and his human passed me on the sidewalk, and it made my day–nay: my year.
Fortunately, I do have a slight sense of social acceptability, so I refrained from grinning like a fool and squealing with glee until after I passed the dog. Regardless, this has arguably been the most exciting thing to happen to me…ever. Or at least this week.
3. It’s no secret that I am hopelessly shout-it-from-the-rooftops in love with my hip hop class. When my teacher was like, “We need an extra rehearsal before graduation,” I could’ve cried tears of joy. I’m not kidding you guys: I spend my entire week looking forward to hip hop. I live for Tuesday nights.
Originally, our class was made up of four girls and two guys, but as time has gone on that has dwindled to two girls and two guys. This, naturally, led to my teacher thinking we should pair up for part of the dance, so now, instead of spending “Where Have You Been?” by Rihanna being seductive towards ourselves in the mirror, we’re now supposed to be seducing each other.
For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of meeting me in real life, I’ll be the first to tell you that I’m about as naturally seductive as tumbleweed. aka not at all.
Oh la la!
Naturally for this portion of the routine, I got paired up with the cute guy in the class. We’ve been paired up for several things throughout the routine because we stood next to each on the first day, and you know how those things go–once you find your spot, it’s your. spot. and you end up spending the rest of the class there, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise (nor, if I’m being honest, was it exactly disappointing). However, there’s a pretty big difference between striking a pose with the cute boy and making eyes at the cute boy. Holy awkward, y’all. To make things even MORE awkward, this guy works for a theater company in Chicago, aka he’s an actor, aka HE CAN ACT. My acting career began and ended with a bit role in the 8th grade musical. He makes a living out of pretending to be in love/lust/hate/mortal combat with people. Me…not so much.
My knee-jerk reflex to any highly awkward, embarrassing, or exceptionally uncomfortable situation is giggling like a maniac. Like, for example, the time I scored an own-goal on my soccer team earlier this year, a mere 20 minutes after meeting my teammates for the first time ever. I could not stop laughing. The more uncomfortable and embarrassed I am, the more I resemble a middle school girl.
In case trying to figure out how to contort my face into “alluring” wasn’t hard enough when I was just trying to seduce myself, I NOW have to figure out how to contort my face into “alluring” without bursting out in a fit of giggles. While I’m sure nothing says sexy quite like uncontrollable laughter, I don’t think that’s exactly what my teacher was going for.
For those of you interested in seeing this disaster on stage, I’m graduating next Tuesday night. I’m not going to post the deets on the ol’ blog to keep the crazy stalkers away, but if you’d like to go, feel free to get in touch with me and I’ll provide you with the lowdown. I’ll be signing autographs and accepting flowers after the performance. Lilies are my favorite, but I’m not picky.
Dogs or cats?
Does anyone else out there react to awkward situations awkwardly (like laughing), thus making them even more awkward than they were to begin with?