Teacher's Pet

We have a new teacher at the school.

The old teachers have put in their two weeks notice, two have completed that and they have left already. Two down, one to go. She'll only be there for one week when she returns from vacation.

Good riddance.

Stop putting damn question marks on my name. Stop telling the other students to "not give her(me) customers".

Maybe if she actually gave a damn and TRIED to teach instead of just getting all uppity and excited and doing the fucking hair cut herself or mixing the hair dye herself etc etc I would have learned something by now and been enjoying going to school.

Also, maybe, just maybe, if the teachers didn't look more bored than we did during Theory, we would have enjoyed showing up more. Maybe, instead of just reading highlighted paragraphs on this 30 sheet packet, you talked about it, we'd be more interested.

The new teacher, who is actually a teacher which was there three years ago, is fantastic.

In three days he's talked about the different techniques on how to do even just one specific style, the differences between them, how they end up looking. He actually tells you what it is that you just did wrong and tells you how to fix it. You know, rather than just yelling at you and then doing it themselves...

He also encourages creativity.

I made a hairstyle which the "principle" liked.

What does the new teacher say? "It's nice... but it's boring."

Son of a bitch I have to step up my game.

You know what else?

New Teacher has delicious pheromones.

When he gets close enough to me my ovaries light up and squeal, "LET'S MAKE BABIES!"

I cannot wait for this ridiculous thing to stop.

He's a great teacher and I'm thrilled.

I'll be done with school in no time.

It's History

When I was walking home from the bus stop I was happily reminiscing (not sure how to spell that and I'm using my cell phone for this post) about my careless life in the past. I was specifically laughing about a dating mistake. It didn't last more than twenty four hours, when everyone else heard about it.
Poor Lee. There was a power outage in the neighborhood and a full moon. He got romantic, we kissed. When my friends heard about it they tut tutted me. I broke up with Lee. He was sweet, but probably trouble. He was also the only guy I ever kissed who had braces. That was weird. :3
I continue reveling in the past this morning. I listen to old, embarrassing music because it's the only way I can hold onto my childhood.
I don't openly share my music collection because, well, I listen to ABBA. Nothing to be ashamed of...if you're Swedish.
Although I do find my longing for my care-free childhood stronger when I'm feeling down, lonely, confused, anything that might require some snuggles.

Q: How many ADD kids does it take to change a lightbulb?

A: Wanna go ride bikes?

Yeah, I am super proud of myself right now.

This is my bike:

It's older than I am. I'm 23.
This bike is at least 40 years old. I've had to do a bit of work to it. All I need are lock washers for my super sweet bike. I did a test ride to the grocery store down the street from my house, no more than a ten minute walk, and a little girl was with her parents and was talking so excitedly about my green bike lock. Pssh, I was like, fuck yeah it's awesome.
I also have a sweet basket for it. Looks like a picnic basket without the lid. In fact!

It's pretty fucking sweet basket, right?

Well I rode my bike to Iso Omena from my house, because I also needed to buy a helmet. Now I'm a pretty big fan of irony...

Here is the helmet before...

Yes, it's black with a skull and cross bones with! a viking helmet. Fuck. Yes. I'm rad, don't lie.

Here is the helmet after:

Little happy clouds, one has a rainbow

Rainbow with hearts

Happy Sun :)

I admit, I cannot get very good pictures of the cute little stickers I stuck on my helmet. I need some fabulous sunlight and like hell if I'm going outside again any time soon. It's hot and I'm exhausted.

Contacts

Two posts in like, one hour, go me!

I am blind. Not legally, no, but without my glasses or my contacts everything is blurry. I can wander aimlessly without my vision machines, mostly likely wont crash into anything, but I can't read or see clearly without them. I'm pretty blind without them. I actually can't see colors very well without them.

Anyway, enough about how stupid my eyes are, I do plan on getting my retinas lasered at some point.
But for now I have my glasses and my contacts.

My contacts at this very moment are the reason I'm even making this post.
I'll start with my glasses first, though.
My glasses are cute and trendy right now, sort of. They're big, with thick, dark purple frames. I loved them when I found them. Then after some time I learned that they give me a unibrow shadow in the right light if I have my hair pulled back and that's stupid and ugly and I hate it. You just can't pluck shadows!

So my husband now has a chance to choose my glasses for me. He wants me to have something smart. I've been thinking about the glasses without the frames. Open up my face a bit.

Anyway... so I just bought these new contacts a couple of weeks ago. supposed to make my eyes bright green. She said it was going to be really bright. Hardly a difference than my own eye color except, well, they're more noticeably green. They hide the hazel.
I like them though, they're subtle, but extreme at the same time.
Although they have this one flaw. It's either my contacts or my eye.
My right eye likes to suck all the juice out of the contact so that it's basically adhered to my eye and I have to dump a bunch of eye drops into my eye and try to get some liquid under the contact so I can even take them out, don't worry, it doesn't hurt and I have no intentions of scratching my retina. Gonna get it LAZERED! one day...
But so, anyway, this crap just builds up under my contact and I'm stuck with a family of those wiggly eyeball worms that float on your eye and you can't look directly at it because no matter how hard you try it keeps moving. Then it just annoys you and you want it to go away so you squeeze your eyes shut and you can still see it and all you want to do is scream!

Anyway... I think I need to take my contacts out. I'm pretty sure I can only wear them for like 8 hours before life fails.

Huey, Would you like to buy a Buick?

Dear Facebookers,

Some of you do something that make me want to sell Buicks. (For those of you not in the know, it means I would like to puke.)
Now, to get specific, it is you married folks that do it for me.
I get it, you're happily married. You love your significant other and couldn't be any happier.

I know this, because I, too, am happily married and I love my husband and couldn't be any happier. Here's the thing though, I have absolutely no intentions of setting my status as "ickle wickle cutesy poopsy wuv notes to my sweet hubby wubby shmumpkins because I wuvs you so much yes I do!"
That's the kind of thing that you post on their wall.
Unless your "cutesy poopsy wuvvable hubby wubby" is fixing the sink or changing a lightbulb, I don't want to hear it.

So please, if you want everyone to know how much you "wuv your sweet widdle cutesy poopsy amazeringest" husband/wife, just post it to their wall. We'll still see it.

It's posts like that which make me want to vomit.

There are other things my fellow facebookers do which exasperate me.

The Caps lock enthusiast:

I don't know what your deal is. There is no need to shout. Typing in all caps lock doesn't even look better. If you, for some reason, are unable to read regular text, just magnify the screen. You have the scroll button, click it and scroll until you can read.

The Baby Picture:

There are /very/ few exceptions to this rule. Actually, I only know one exception out of all my friends who can post their child as their user picture and I know who it is just by the picture.
If you want your user picture to have your child in it, please, be in the picture too.
There are too many times where things like that can get awkward. "Hey baby, last night was awesome," as a wall post when the picture is their child can be kind of creepy...

The Pet Picture:

See Baby Picture.

The Twitterer:

This is Facebook, not Twitter. I mean, for real?

My personal favorite...

Dumb and Deep:

You post song lyrics sometimes. You post your own personal feelings. You say something romantic...
I would be impressed if you spelled it correctly and didn't abbreviate.
"I'm right here in front of you and I can't stop shaking. come on and hold me still. Take my heart love, until I, cuz I feel as though I've never seen beauty until this night"
So close, yet so far away.
That is a direct quote.
There are also the ones which their posts are nothing but song lyrics. The best part is when it's nothing but song lyrics from the same band every time. Your status updates are nothing but The Beatles (Across the Universe, let's get specific) lyrics. It would be one thing if it was all just The Beatles, but no, it's only anything and everything from Across the Universe.
Stop it. Disco Stu hates Disco.


Don't worry. I don't expect you to stop what you're doing. People like you for who you are. I just hide your updates. It's easier that way. I like to keep my braincells.

1 + 1 = 3

So I'm happily married for 1 month and 9 days now.
It was at the wedding that the questions began, "When are you having kids?"

The most often used answer I provide is: "When we're ready."

I am very aware that more often than not no one is ever ready to bring a baby into the world.
I'm sure people prepare and prepare for a baby. Making the baby's room yellow because they don't want to assume whether or not they're having a girl or a boy.
Taking every class there is. Child CPR, you know, just in case, because you're never going to be so awful as a parent to let your child have tiny toys to om nom no--choke on.
Buying all the protective stuff, like the things you slap onto corners so they don't impale their face... or so you don't impale your shins on the coffee table when running after the little tyke because he/she is high tailing it right for your big fancy screen and hi fi system because Elmo is there and maybe the kid is going too fast and that TV is expensive and you can't live with a crappy TV ever again...
..ahem...
Cooing over baby names and what you want to name the child if it's a girl...or what if it's a boy... then maybe Dan...
I don't know.

There's a lot to prepare for when having a child and the only thing you can never prepare is yourself, your mind.
I'm sure there's a slight adrenaline rush when you finally miss the first day of your period and all you want to do is buy that little stick to pee on.
You pee on the stick and some how all over your hands, but you don't care, you might be pregnant!
So you wait patiently for, what is it, three minutes... ok, maybe not patiently, but I'm sure your just as excited husband even set the timer just so you can be sure.
You get that OMG YOU'RE PREGGERS line and it's nothing but joy and you can finally finish peeing.*

Then there's 9 months of side effects.
Different for everyone, but there are the usuals... vomiting, drinking vinegar, weird habits, crankiness... mood swings... etc.
There are also the it-happens-but-you-don't-want-to-be-the-one-to-admit-it things... like scared to have sex because the baby might kick him in the wiener or something...

THEN the one part you're never ready for: actually giving birth.
You just spent nine months rubbing your belly and cooing at your belly, and you may or may not know the sex of the baby, but you played Mozart for the baby because that's supposed to make it smart...
Then your water breaks and you're not sure if you just peed or you're ready to give birth, but all hell breaks loose, you're in pain, there's adrenaline and excitement and fear, and then all of a sudden you're thinking, "what the fuck, what if we're not ready for this baby!?"
Then you're in pain and when your squeezing out the baby and praying you don't poop on the table you're making sure you did everything right and also hating your husband or baby's daddy at least for doing this to you and it's all hell for like 16 hours until that sucker has been unclipped from your innards, cleansed of the placenta which some religions suggest you eat...I just gagged...
Then you have this wee little wrinkly baby in your arms, your vagina feeling like it could easily hold an 8 pound bowling ball and in agonizing pain, and all you want is a cheeseburger.

Hopefully, that's what it's going to be like for my husband and I. So, like I said, when we're ready.

*I don't know if any of this is true, but it's how I like to think things are when you're actually trying to make a baby.

Dreams in the heart...

I had a crazy, insane dream last night.

All I know is that House was in it, we got incredibly intimate. We hadn't had sex or anything, but were super affectionate towards each other. It was strange. I remember Wilson seeing us and just looking shocked.
House and I are sitting on the floor talking. I forgot what the subject was about, but it made him unhappy, apparently. He wrote on a post-it note, "9:00 Let's just be friends?"
I was kind of upset by it, because I felt like he hadn't given me a chance yet. Also, part of me was all, (I can't be single! I just couldn't be single! Lauriii!)
So instead of getting upset and crying about it, I decide to change House's mind. I take his wrist and drag him to the bed room. THEN we start to get properly intimate.
Then the weirdest thing ever happens...
I take off my pants and basically pee on myself. Completely uncontrolled. Like it fell out of me. I try to dry it up and House notices and tells me that it's a side effect of Meth, and then my nipples start to lactate, which was also a side effect. He told me he didn't mind but I was unhappy about it and trying to figure out how the hell I've been doing Meth when it occurs to me that it's my painkillers prescribed to me by my doctor.
I get uncomfortable and walk to go use the toilet because now all my orifices are basically leaking uncontrollably... I realize the building we are in is taken hostage!
There's all these people be held at gun point, and I just wanted to use the toilet, and at least the guys near the bathroom let me know. I assured them I was trust worthy.
While hanging out on the toilet, pooping apparently, Talb and Thirteen walk up to the bathroom window, Talb looks at me confused and I just say, "Hey, Everybody poops."
I then told them the situation about the guys with guns.

Then everyone was transported to somewhere else. I end up using the tiny toilet there. The stall was ridiculously tiny. I had no elbow room. Then I climbed out of the bathroom window, I was playing on some sort of see saw type deal that actually over time went higher and higher. It made the infinity symbol as it ascended into the air.
I took advantage of it and leaped onto a near by tin roof and climbed to the top, unseen, I looked back before I decided to run into the woods. As I was running on this path I saw this creature that was gray and white, patterned like bark. I kept running, and saw again as he was climbing into the forest, blending in with the trees, looking like branches or tree trunks.
I kept running and somehow ended up in a museum and I was scared, so I stayed where I was, which happened to have been sitting on  an old carriage wearing a hoop skirt and bonnet. The only thing that gave me away was my hair.

People are showing up at the museum and then Lauri appears, sees me, and tells me it's safe. I looked at him and asked, "Did the guy get eaten by a swamp monster?" and he looks surprised and asked me how I knew. Told him my story.

Then I woke up.