Morbid

I am very happy that I am not morbidly obsese or super obsese. Or obsese. Or even overweight. I remain a constant 140-150 depending on the month. I do have a little pudge in the belly but that is because I enjoy eating. And I can eat a lot.

If I was obsese though, I bet I would be one of those obsese women who go from drive through window to drive through window ordering hamburgers and french fries and sit in my little car stuffing my face in the parking lot looking around to see if anyone is looking and crying.

But I am not. I did, however, just sit in my office licking and biting a huge eclair just now and savoring every bite.

Validates my barcode on our bodies idea

From MSN..."Jenkins was accused of killing his ex-wife, a model whose body was so badly mutilated when found in a trash bin outside Los Angeles it had to be identified by her breast implants' serial numbers. He evaded a massive international manhunt for days as he crossed from California into his native Canada."

Is there something in this paragraph that stands out as kind of funny in a sick way? Hmmmm.......

TV Talk

You know what I can't stand about my job. I don't have anybody to talk to about TV. I am currently sitting in my office watching the You Tube video of Heidi Montag lipsynching her Body Language song on the Miss Universte pageant and I am freaking pissing my pants laughing. This stuff is priceless. And I am all by myself. People take themselves too seriously here.

Names

I really like when people can make an effort to remember your name. At work, this woman came barging in demanding something be done. First, not the best way to make an introduction to me. Second, got a flabby handshake. Oh hell no. You make an effort when you shake my hand. And third, when I finally finished it for her, she walked right past me in my own office and said, "I am looking for Laura Goldberger."

Right.......

Zap

I think I might have the solution to crime in America. I think every human. At least every human with half a brain. So, ok....25% of the humans in America should be allowed to carry a taser gun and be given 5 chances a month to use them on who ever they like. No questions asked. For example, if somebody at work annoys you and asks you to join them in singing happy birthday for their boss...taser. If the person behind you beeps at you for no apparent reason, step out of your car and taser them. If the person behind you at the movie theatre is eating her popcorn too loud, taser her. Or, if somebody does nothing at all, taser them.

I think this would allow people to get out their aggression without really hurting anyone too bad. You don't really physically hurt them for long and really you aren't hurting their feelings.

This is a perfect solution. Think about it.

You Gotta Love Them

So I see a therapist on Wednesdays now after work. However, it is like the welfare version of therapy and going there makes me more anxious then not going there. It is an old building filled with people I can only assume beat their children because they have no money and spend their welfare checks on lucky jeans and scratch tickets. I wouldn't know though because nobody in the lobby ever speaks english.

I should have learned with experience to never trust a place that has clip art pictures of cell phones with a circle and a cross dashed through it as their lobby signage.

Anyway, my therapist is nice enough but I really think I might overpower her with my emotions. I pretty much just go now to therapize myself.

Yesterday's Conversation (please see blog below to explain why I was annoyed when I walked in):

Therapist: How are you?
Me: Annoyed. Don't you need to take my co-pay?
Therapist: Oh, I guess I do.
Me: Cause every time I walk in here, the door gets slammed on me cause I come after 5.
Therapist: Here is your receipt
Me: By the way, what's with this place. I just got a $400 bill. That's ridiculous.
Therapist: They always make mistakes here.
Me: Interesting.

blah. blah. blah...compained about work for 45 minutes.

45 minutes later

Me: I need techiques to help me cope with my negative emotions during the day at work.
Therapist: Well, you need to start walking down the hallway everyday and get to know the people you work with.
Me: I try that. Nobody talks. And they are all idiots anyway.
Therapist: Did you just hear what you said.
Me: Yes. See. Negative thoughts. Again, I need ways to cope with my negative emotions during the day.
Therapist: You need to learn to love the people you work with. That is how you will learn to like your job.
Me: Fuck that. I don't want to love these people.
Therapist: When you walked in here you asked me how you can learn to think positively.
Me: Yeah. But let's be realistic.

You know what annoys me...or at least annoyed me yesterday

Lesbians.
Actually, tan lesbians.
Actually, tan lesbians who wear plaid shorts.
Actually, tan lesbians who wear plaid shorts and drive a honda fit.
Actually, tan lesbians who wear plaid shorts and drive a honda fit and drive on my ass going up a one-way street.
Actually, tan lesbians who wear plaid shorts and drive a honda fit and drive on my ass going up a one-way street when I am trying to park in a certain spot.
Actually, tan lesbians who wear plaid shorts and drive a honda fit and drive on my ass going up a one-way street when I am trying to park in a certain spot and then park in their own driveway in a house in Jamaica Plain.
Actually, tan lesbians who wear plaid shorts and drive a honda fit and drive on my ass going up a one-way street when I am trying to park in a certain spot and then park in their own driveway in a house in Jamaica Plain and have a trunk full of paper bags from Whole Foods.
Actually, tan lesbians who wear plaid shorts and drive a honda fit and drive on my ass going up a one-way street when I am trying to park in a certain spot and then park in their own driveway in a house in Jamaica Plain and have a trunk full of paper bags from Whole Foods filled with hummus and olives.
Actually, tan lesbians who wear plaid shorts and drive a honda fit and drive on my ass going up a one-way street when I am trying to park in a certain spot and then park in their own driveway in a house in Jamaica Plain and have a trunk full of paper bags from Whole Foods filled with hummus and olives and talking on their phone about their dinner party that night really loudly when I walk by.

You know what annoys me...

When I am driving and an ambulance comes from behind so I have to pull over. And then when the ambulance drives by, the cars that pulled over behind me pull out before me and go around me. WTF?

What color is your parachute?

The answer to this is I have no freaking idea! I don't know what I am suppossed to be doing for work? I don't know where I am supposed to be. But, I am pretty good where I am right now. And that place...is....a sky diving world!

I was sitting at work on Friday with my head back, probably drooling in ultimate bordeom. I got a text from my friend Colleen saying she was going sky diving on Sunday. And I told her to sign me up! I have been wanting to do this for years. I always told myself if I can sky dive, I can do anything. So, I figured why the hell not.

I got to the place on Sunday and short story even shorter..I did it! I remember the feeling...sort of. It is kind of like taking a klonopine (uh...not like i know what that feels like.) It is a calming feeling like that...like I wasn't sure where I was when I landed.

I was so nauceous though, which I should have realized since I can't even spin on tea cups. My guy kept spinning me and all I could see was the big X landing point and then I would look down and just see my legs dangling and it was so cool. Sans the almost puking. Good thing I have spent my life practicing how not to puke!! Minus the time in January when I actually put my fingers down my throat to puke because my non-tolerant body couldn't handle two margaritas. And I digress...

So now I can do anything. That's what I have to tell myself anyway. Really, besides cage diving with the great white sharks, I can't think of anything scarier than jumping out of a plane 11,000 feet in the air. And it wasn't even that scary. It was a peaceful jump....like....I just gotta do it. I wanted to pull the rip cord but I guess I was all positioned wrong cause all I remember is saying to the guy, "guess you pulled it!" ahhhh.....laura is sarcastic even flying through the air.

I just wish I knew what color my parachute really was. I guess all that matters is that it opened. The rest...I'll figure out.

Maternity

You know what annoys me about pregnant women? When they basically find out they are pregnant and then like at week 3 they come to work and tell everyone and then the next day they come in wearing maternity clothes.