Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Ally McBeal is my soul sister

In which I'm exciting in my pretend life....

If you haven't seen Ally McBeal this will not make any sort of sense. Even if you have, it's questionable whether or not this will make sense. I'm here for me, not you. *tee-hee* Seriously, do some homework. This is my point of reference. I loved her. I think the show was canceled because the general public feared their own insanity all up in their face on prime time television. I LOVED it! So much. I finally had a role model on T.V. Ok, so I'm not wafer thin. I don't worked with totally hot people. They are warm though.
Don't get me wrong. We do have a couple sexy bitches. But we are down one too. We do share a common bathroom but it is private so, we are never in there together. Or at least not on purpose. I was thinking I may have this other self. One that has a far superior existence than I. Let's break it down, shall we? Glad you are coming along on my journey of make believe. In my real life, a typical day is as follows:

1. I wake up.

2. I am not at all happy about being awake. Eventually, I get out of bed. Usually not because I am motivated by the day but because I have to urinate. Let's be honest.

3. I do some kind of ritual to get ready for work. I'm not a structured type of person. I don't really have a routine outside of getting out of bed to urinate. Sometimes, I shower in the morning. Sometimes the night before. Sometimes I wear make-up. Sometimes I don't. Consistently, I do not eat breakfast.

4. I get to my car, usually by way of circling the house once or twice because I forgot my keys or license or lighter or something because I don't carry a purse like a real girl. The I begin my completely ridiculous 45 mile commute to my, barely-above-minimum-wage, job.

5. I talk to people who should not be allowed to own a cat much less a computer. They get on the Internet and get lost. So I am here to help them find their way. Most of the time they are nice. Sometimes, they are dicks. And other times they are too stupid to justify be angry at them for being stupid. After 9 hours, I lock up, set the alarm and begin my 45 mile commute home.

6. I eat dinner about every other day when I get home after 8 in the pm. I usually talk on the phone a little or text. I might walk down to Clyde and Deana's for a little while. I get the kids in bed because that is my job.

7. I watch mind-numbing t.v. or get on the time-suck known as the Internet. Then I go to bed just to repeat steps 1 through 7 again.

8. The awesome-ness is injected, from time-to-time, when I have encounters at the Wild Life Refuge or Fred Meyer parking lot (do not judge me) with SBP. *wink,wink*

That's it. My vicissitude in 8 easy, mundane steps. Not too exciting. And you can now clearly see why there is time gaps between blog entries. Who wants to hear about my daily urination or commute or the 25 farcical conversations I have throughout the day. Not you. *roll eyes*

In my perpendicular plane of existence [you know, because parallel would be the same just at a different time. *duh*], I'm exciting. Super hot. All legs and a brain pan reckoning that of Einstein. I do what I want, when I want. Nothing is out of reach and money is not a concern. I fly over to Greece to take an afternoon dip in the Mediterranean on a whim. I don't know how I got all this money. It could be from the stock market. *I already know* It could be from blood money. It could be from my monopoly on Internet porn. Frankly, I do not care. I have the best love life yet, complete freedom whenever it is convenient for me. Alright.... So all of that is my daydreams. Sometimes, I do picture it vividly. Mostly, what happens is I am just a visual person so when people talk to me, I picture what they are saying in my head. It's almost like I have an internal television in my mind's eye that has the ability to time travel and recreate your story as it happened. I provide my own dramatization. To me, it is hysterical! Sometimes, it triggers my gag reflect, it's a gamble. I don't have the dancing baby but I do have this 16 year old version of me that often makes an appearance. She is wicked awesome! I also have, what I consider to be, a cursed genius that allows me to translate most or partial parts of your sentences into some song I have heard, at some obscure point of my life, then it sticks in my head [yours too] until I hear someone say something else that makes me think of another partial lyric. It's a vicious circle.

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