Teeth, wedding, grownupstuff, bike crash
*shamelessly borrowing dubaiyan's style because the post is begging for it*
I got my first tooth after my first birthday. Yes.
I lost my last kiddy molar when I was in first grade secondary school. Yes.
I do not think it is fair that I should still be teething at twenty-three. No.
I've lost count because they were so far apart but I sincerely hope this is my fourth wisdom tooth.
Dutch Posh&Becks wannabes got married today. I wasn't going to mention it, in fact I was hoping I wouldn't see anything of it, but I was zapping with my mother and there was extensive covering.
MOM: What's that on her head?
ME: Headthingy.
MOM: How long is it?
ME: Way too long.
MOM: The 'virgin' look.
ME: *snort* Yeah, right.
MOM: It's a flattering look, though.
ME: *nods*
(Note: I'm not in any way saying the lady is a tramp. I am saying she dressed up as a virgin for her wedding.)
MOM: Those look like they're threatening to fall out.
ME: I agree, there should be less of a plateau. Especially with the whole virgin thing, and in church, and all... Look at those altar boys ogling her... toast rack!
MOM: Toast rack?
ME: Yes well.
MOM: The singer is wearing a vestey thing.
ME: Yes, like that! You can take it off for the party!
MOM: Is she just well-endowed or is it the dress?
ME: I hope the former otherwise that dress is badly cut.
MOM: Pretty, but... she looks like a porcelain doll. You could put her in a cabinet and no-one'd notice. *notices sparkly face* What's that stuff on her face?
ME: Gold paint?
Major bitching, really, but if you televise your wedding you're asking for it.
This morning, I got a call from the employment agency who placed me at a summer job last year. (Anyone remember, where I got hired and then fired after my contract was up?) Seems they want temps for the summer again, and here I'm thinking: a) It's money that will buy me time to look further, b) I didn't dislike the work and liked the people, c) It's temporary anyway, d) I will not be under contract with the company but with the agency.
So, pending approval from the company I've got five weeks of a job in the summer. People-wise the approval shouldn't be a problem - the manager didn't even want to cut us in the first place but had to; I only hope there aren't any bureaucratic glitches.
My grandmother is selling her car and I'm thinking of buying it. It's the best offer I'm likely to get, carwise, ever.
I might be getting a car.
*eep*
As the last of the grown-up notes, I'm thinking of entering part-time translator school next year. It's four years but I'd be able to skip the first.
Picture me racing, on my bicycle, to the train station yesterday. I say "racing" because I go faster than most city dwellers - outside city limits it's normal speed. I now give you my thought processes/general proceedings:
- Hey guy with weird rucksack.
- *while speeding past* Is that a baby in there? Seems like the shape...
- Nah, can't see.
- *eyes back to front* HOLY SHIT!
- *crashes into guy who was riding in front of her but had stopped*
Somehow I ended up on the bottom of the pile, with either guy or guy's bike on top of me, either the guy's bike or guy on top of that, and my bike on top of everything else. And it was my fault so I was the one looking sheepish while he examined his wrists that hurt. Nothing major fortunately. My bike is now suffering from a bent steer, I have a scrape on my hand (looks really weird... or maybe I've just forgotten what these things look like I haven't had one for so long) and a 5x10 cm bruised bump on my leg and just generally hurt, but no major harm done.
These things will happen. *sigh*
Yes fine I could try and be less of an unguided projectile. Beh.
Furthermore, let me point out that I do not drive like I ride a bicycle.
Anyway, went on, got on the train, went to training and told the above. Comment from M: "Honey, if you want to ogle cute guys that's fine. You don't have to make up excuses!"
I got my first tooth after my first birthday. Yes.
I lost my last kiddy molar when I was in first grade secondary school. Yes.
I do not think it is fair that I should still be teething at twenty-three. No.
I've lost count because they were so far apart but I sincerely hope this is my fourth wisdom tooth.
Dutch Posh&Becks wannabes got married today. I wasn't going to mention it, in fact I was hoping I wouldn't see anything of it, but I was zapping with my mother and there was extensive covering.
MOM: What's that on her head?
ME: Headthingy.
MOM: How long is it?
ME: Way too long.
MOM: The 'virgin' look.
ME: *snort* Yeah, right.
MOM: It's a flattering look, though.
ME: *nods*
(Note: I'm not in any way saying the lady is a tramp. I am saying she dressed up as a virgin for her wedding.)
MOM: Those look like they're threatening to fall out.
ME: I agree, there should be less of a plateau. Especially with the whole virgin thing, and in church, and all... Look at those altar boys ogling her... toast rack!
MOM: Toast rack?
ME: Yes well.
MOM: The singer is wearing a vestey thing.
ME: Yes, like that! You can take it off for the party!
MOM: Is she just well-endowed or is it the dress?
ME: I hope the former otherwise that dress is badly cut.
MOM: Pretty, but... she looks like a porcelain doll. You could put her in a cabinet and no-one'd notice. *notices sparkly face* What's that stuff on her face?
ME: Gold paint?
Major bitching, really, but if you televise your wedding you're asking for it.
This morning, I got a call from the employment agency who placed me at a summer job last year. (Anyone remember, where I got hired and then fired after my contract was up?) Seems they want temps for the summer again, and here I'm thinking: a) It's money that will buy me time to look further, b) I didn't dislike the work and liked the people, c) It's temporary anyway, d) I will not be under contract with the company but with the agency.
So, pending approval from the company I've got five weeks of a job in the summer. People-wise the approval shouldn't be a problem - the manager didn't even want to cut us in the first place but had to; I only hope there aren't any bureaucratic glitches.
My grandmother is selling her car and I'm thinking of buying it. It's the best offer I'm likely to get, carwise, ever.
I might be getting a car.
*eep*
As the last of the grown-up notes, I'm thinking of entering part-time translator school next year. It's four years but I'd be able to skip the first.
Picture me racing, on my bicycle, to the train station yesterday. I say "racing" because I go faster than most city dwellers - outside city limits it's normal speed. I now give you my thought processes/general proceedings:
- Hey guy with weird rucksack.
- *while speeding past* Is that a baby in there? Seems like the shape...
- Nah, can't see.
- *eyes back to front* HOLY SHIT!
- *crashes into guy who was riding in front of her but had stopped*
Somehow I ended up on the bottom of the pile, with either guy or guy's bike on top of me, either the guy's bike or guy on top of that, and my bike on top of everything else. And it was my fault so I was the one looking sheepish while he examined his wrists that hurt. Nothing major fortunately. My bike is now suffering from a bent steer, I have a scrape on my hand (looks really weird... or maybe I've just forgotten what these things look like I haven't had one for so long) and a 5x10 cm bruised bump on my leg and just generally hurt, but no major harm done.
These things will happen. *sigh*
Yes fine I could try and be less of an unguided projectile. Beh.
Furthermore, let me point out that I do not drive like I ride a bicycle.
Anyway, went on, got on the train, went to training and told the above. Comment from M: "Honey, if you want to ogle cute guys that's fine. You don't have to make up excuses!"