Terms of affection...

*testing out technology*

Allie *texting*: Hey nerdface.
Mark *out loud*: Hey jackass.

Quote of the day

Yesterday:

*Jen leans in Tasha's general direction*
Tasha: "Are you smelling me...or looking through the door?"

Today:

*lindsey's phone rings*
Allie: Um....there's a small african beating a drum in your purse."

*after someone stood us up*
Allie: Well, he's old and grumpy.
Lindsey: I don't care if he's Jesus Christ, he can at least CALL and cancel his appointment.

Nanook, nanook!

I used to have this tradition - where I bought shoes every time someone called to tell me they were pregnant. It was a tradition that, sadly, I've had to stop because I have too many friends that apparently feel like the world will come to a disastrous end unless they manage to pass their genes on to the next generation. Needless to say people my age are procreating left, right and center with the usual results. In fact so many of my friends recently have called to share the "good news" that I bitterly remarked to my supervisor that I'm going to start answering the phone "Planned parenthood, this is Allison, tell me about your pregnancy."

Anyways, my ill repressed bitterness and anger is NOT the point of this blog. Today, the shoe thing was briefly revised because Jen discovered crocs at Big Lots (of all places) for ten bucks (of all prices!) and....they were Nanooks. And then Tasha bought them for me so I didn't have to drive across town in the sleet on my lunch hour to get them.

I love them. They're cute. They're fuzzy. I can wear them to work without socks. And let's face it... "nanook" is just such a great word to say.

Nanook! Nanook!

Don't mess with Texas...strike that, Don't mess with Californians.

Hilarious thing from work today. One of our patients came in visibly upset. While in our parking lot ...someone had thrown a Sonic cup out the window of their car, in the direction of this person's car. This lady, being the sort that has a mind of her own, promptly hauled some serious butt over there, picked up the cup, and threw it back INSIDE THE PERSON'S CAR. Yes...yes while they were still sitting there.

Everyone seemed to be somewhat appalled at her audacity but I say good for you, angry tree hugging recycling don't litter the environment lady. Serious props from where I sit in the Alliequarium. Cheers.

Another trip into my bizarre dreamlife: werewolves and WMDs.

So last night, I dreamed that Josh had built a top secret weapon, on commission by the pentagon or something, that was housed in my old house on Ivybridge Dr. He was under orders to fire it off - an action that was going to blow off the top two floors of the house, forcing us to live in the basement for three years (thank you Dollhouse for providing this little detail) while the after effects of the explosion, or whatever it was going to do, wore off.

My parents were leaving the immediate vicinity of the blast - in an attempt to avoid it - and taking this nearsighted almost blind girl that I had guardianship of with them...but right after they left we got the order to fire the thing. Josh didn't and the crazy anarchist people right around us went insane and started rampaging through the house and completely trashing it. Which is when a werewolf, in wolf form, showed up to guard me. (I don't know, it seemed completely normal when it happened.)

Eventually the government texted my phone (for real!?!) and said we could wait until my parents were due to be out of the vicinity before firing...whatever it was Josh had built because they recognized the value of "what we had to lose." (Uhhh...right. Because governments are humanitarian like that.)

Surprise Attack of the Fall-Apart Friday

I know, I know, you're saying, but it's only Tuesday. That's the surprise bit. So this morning, EVERYTHING I touched fell apart. It was like being King Midas, except without the I'm royalty, fantastically rich and cursed to be surrounded by gold things dealio. Anyways, patients canceled, spreadsheets did not get done, the phone list did NOT get called... (okay well, half of it got called, which contributed to the ever mounting pile of cancellations for tomorrow...) By about 11 a.m. I was motivated to do nothing, for fear that things would get worser. (Have I mentioned my morning starts at nine and ends at one? Yeah.) And yes "worser" is an accurate descriptor, because they had already gone from okay, to bad, to worse. No particular reason, just today for some reason, I can't deal and I'm stupidly tearful. I hate days like this.

So, new motto for the afternoon: "Like water off a duck." Roll baby roll.

Quack quack,
Allie