The Artful Waggle: Updated

I was in the town that I went to college in last night. That's a horrible sentence but bear with me here.


So I was back at school and my friend and I went to my favorite restaurant, the famous Earth and Tea Cafe, for tea and Princess Cake (you have no idea what you're missing). On our way to the car after tea and shopping I spotted a glorious waggle. It was yet another man waggle, I tend to notice them more because, well, lady boobs aren't really my thing. This man had a front and back waggle, hips and buns swinging in his swishy pants on his way to the only athletic establishment in the tiny downtown area, the stripercize studio.

Good for him, you know, if your best assets look best bouncing why not bounce them in style while toning and strengthening your body, mind and spirit? Oh, so stripping isn't the same as yoga or meditation or long distance running?

My statement stands: If you bounce best, bounce well.

But I should also clarify that I don't want this to be something I an forced to observe while trying to diminish my midsection bounce while bounding doing a stationary machine that somehow forces me to look at myself run even if the TV is turned on to such exercise shows as Top Chef: Just Desserts. I don't want to see boobs, I don't want to see bums and I sure as hell don't want to see them in all of the splendor while I'm attempting to be discrete.

The waggle has a scary side and it is apparent in the locker room. While I'm not privy to what goes on in a men's locker room (and am eternally grateful because if it's half as bad as what goes on in the ladies' locker room I'd die) the women's locker room is where the waggle rears its ugly head and causes nightmares. I will never judge a fatty at the gym, I am not so stealth myself, and it can only be an improvement for their health, what I will judge is the lack of shame some people feel in a locker room. I have had a few encounters with men in the locker room, more than enough to keep any need to uncover  covered, but I hide when it's just the ladies too.

Some people not so much. My favorites are the towel on the head ladies, they like to put lotion on their legs while using the counter to prop up said legs while only wearing the aforementioned towel. I also like the large lady whose aquatic class has tuckered her out so thoroughly that she has to sit her naked bottom on the bench to get dressed, this lady is always social. All of these ladies are wiggling and jiggling into their clothes and entire bodies waggle. Entire bodies!

Please, if you dare, share your waggles with me, sexy and un. But be kind, use words not visuals.

Growing Up

It has become painfully obvious that this year, my 23rd, is quickly wrapping up. And again, as it has been every year since I turned 21 (yeah, I know, oh so many years ago) I'm beginning to panic. People seem distracted, preoccupied, and they are going to forget again. Two people at work know my birthday is next week. A few friends know (one shares my birthday, one was sweet enough to take me to Whose Live?, one may remember or may forget but he knows its here). My grandparents remembered, I got my card today. It'll be a miracle if my dad remembers, though I'm not sure why. Facebook will remember.

The plus side to my birthday blues: this year no one has pointed out what they were doing at my age. Last year it was all, "I'd been married for five years and had two kids." I think by now they realize this isn't how my life is working.

I think the fact that my loosely laid out life plan isn't shaping up the way I had pictured brings me down more than my dad not remembering and his mother reminding me that I haven't seen her in a long time can't seem to remember that birthdays other than hers exist. Apple and tree situation maybe?

I also think my panic comes from not having an adventure in sight. I can't seen a clear moment of joy in my future, I see working, I see grocery shopping and I see not enough time in the day. I think maybe I crave adventure too much, I spoiled myself with it too early... or not. Maybe I'm just playing it too safe now. Maybe I should get on a bike and ride across the country? Only I don't like bikes, but there has to be something sort of like that that I'm afraid of doing, something that I would actually.

Maybe, just maybe, I show become a roadie. I know, the whole thing has a certain skeeze factor, dirty clothes and buses and late nights and too much to drink. But I don't know that it would be bad. Maybe I should freak my mom out, join the Peace Corp like I always planned, throw caution to the wind, learn a new language, live in poverty in a strange place and maybe make a difference. I wouldn't be any worse off than I am today.

I could go back to school, take on that debt. Learn and end up actually working in a place I despise instead of just in an unstimulating job that I despise some of the time.

Operation Ada Jane seems more like a trap these days than a genius idea, but some genius ideas are traps aren't they?

Haha, who am I kidding?

Whatever you do this week don't compare me to you. Thanks a bunch!

It's 1:30 on a Wednesday, Do you know where your children are?

I do!

Ok, so this is an easy game because I don't have any offspring. But at 1:30pm on a Wednesday I should be working or something, but I'm not. I'm sitting around letting my mind wander, and it hurts a little bit, drinking coffee wondering what to do next.

I could put the wash into the dryer, but that would mean getting up and then in an hour or so I'd have to get up and fold it. All of this seems like too much effort right now. I mean when I got out of the shower I didn't really even get dressed. I'm wearing clothes, a lot of clothes, but I look like a homeless person. My mom told my sister I was practicing for pregnancy (third you should have a baby in two days). My plaid, flannel dress is so super shapeless that she might be right.

Oh, goodness yes, the washing machine is still going so I don't have to get up just yet!

But while I'm wasting my day being pathetic and trying to make my room smell like a human room people are out there living life and facing the world. I would be too, but it's raining and I'm broke and didn't have to work today. The rain and the broke sort of suck, and while I don't want to work being at work wouldn't be so bad.

Heck, I'm on facebook looking at pages of people who've passed away wondering why people still comment on their walls. Maybe facebook is the new religion? I dare say many people would go for that before they went for Jesus, who interestingly enough my wireless network has been named after.

Like how this didn't go anywhere?

Me too.

Chompy McHumperson

My mom got a puppy this past August and he is absolutely adorable. I trained him to lay down in three tries, then was told never to teach him another thing because he stopped sitting and started doing all of his other tricks. His one fault is biting. He bites out of love and out of play. He bites anything he can get his mouth around, sometimes amounting to two or three toys at a time.

Or...

My right breast. He's always lunging at and chomping the right one. And now that he is an adolescent dog after getting excited after a nice chomp he wraps himself around my arm and if I'm not quick he'll hump it. Between the chomping and the humping and this odd nose pushing thing he does I'm covered in bruises and flinch when he comes up to me.

The relationship has become abusive, he loves me, if he didn't he wouldn't chomp me.

Help me train my dog to be nicer to the boob, and less nice to my arm!

This Post Proves Itself Wrong. I am Lazy.

Yesterday, I was at work and one of the regular clients came in and was chatting, they do this sometimes, and he brought up some current news topics. So he sidles on to the Occupy Wall Street protests and that is where the encounter goes south.

I should have learned by now that I am of a different world view than most of the people that I work with, live near, and am forced to interact with in a fake-smiley work way, and at this point I should have learned that the fake smiling gets me farther with people than opening my mouth and expressing an opinion. All that said, I am human and apparently like the abuse that comes with being a young adult that can't afford to live on their own.

So he blabs about the protesters being lazy, no-goods, and says, and this is a real quote, not something like a quote that I'm putting in quotation marks, "This is America, there are plenty of jobs, they can have any job they want." Ok, Herman Cain, whatever you say.

I stupidly said, "we (referring to my fellow teller and myself) only work three days a week," as in the company that we work for, that I actually like, doesn't have the money to employ full-timers, so I'm happy to have my sad hours instead of nothing, while I try to figure out what to do with the BA I earned in three and a half years. Though, I only said the stupid part, so when he called me lazy and said I should get a second job, I probably deserved it, right?

I don't think so.

But we're all entitled to our opinions and Fox News in a legitimate news source so I guess I should be happy he isn't completely ignorant.

For the record, I am many things but I am not lazy. I quit my second job because I was actually spending more money to get to it than I was making. I hated it, I hated myself while being there, I hated how I was treated by customers, I hated how I was treated by fellow employees and I hated how it looked on my resume. So I quit, I am picking up gigs that I wouldn't have been able to do otherwise, I am picking up hours that I wouldn't have been able to pick up otherwise. I am still looking for a job that is both satisfying, interesting and pays enough (because I can't hold out for decently or even reasonably). And I've been called pretty twice in a week by people who had never seen me outside of my former work place. As in, "You're so pretty, that place must of been aweful! Look at you're smile!"

So I don't regret backing down to one part-time job. But walk a mile in my shoes.

Also the man is a small business owner. I don't have much money. He has the same amount as me in all of his accounts combined. He makes daily deposits that are twice the size of my savings account, so somehow I win.

That was mean. But I'm not lazy.

Copy and pasted from noboomerangleftbehind.blogspot.com