Surprises

It always comes as a surprise whenever I am asked out, or asked for my number by a guy. I think it's because I know I'm gay and I assume everyone else does as well. I don't hide it and I certainly don't deny it. I'm definitely not the brand of gay girl that likes to flirt with the boys, to me flirting is like a prelude for more, and there is no way I would be preluding anything with the male variety.

Tonight, I was on my way to a movie with a friend from work and needed to stop for gas. It was one of the rare times I had cash on me so I headed inside to prepay for the pump. As I'm walking up I wasn't really paying any attention to the person I was walking behind until he noticed I was behind him and held the door to the gas station open for me. I smiled and thanked him politely as I stepped inside.

From the way he was holding the door open from the inside for me, he was still angled closest to the register so I was going to let him go first. He waved his arm and told me to go ahead and this time I smiled and thanked him out of surprise. I paid for the gas and headed back outside and started pumping it when I noticed the guy walk to the car next to mine. I went back to watching the pump meter when I heard him say something and turned to look when I realized he was talking to me.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked him.

"Your gas, I would have pumped it for you if I knew you were going to do it yourself," he repeated again.

I raised my eyebrows in genuine surprise at such an old fashioned comment. And while the feminist in me would never have allowed it, I appreciated the thoughtfulness of his remark at the same time.

"How chivalrous of you," I said as I chuckled lightly. "Thank you anyway."

He took a step toward me and held out his hand. "I'm Mike."

"Nice to meet you Mike, I'm Amanda." I returned his hand shake.

"So can I call you some time?"

Surprised again, even though I should have seen the signals by then. I hesitated for a split second, trying to figure out a way to let him down nicely because I already liked him for his politeness. So I said the first thing that came to my head.

"Sorry but I'm already seeing someone." I always feel guilty after turning someone down, but I have found the easiest way of doing it is telling them you're seeing someone else so they feel you have a legitimate reason for saying no, rather than just saying no to them. Honestly, I rarely if ever say it's because I'm gay. 1) It opens up a whole other can of worms and 2) I can usually make a quick getaway if I just stick with the "seeing someone" comment.

"You are? That's too bad," he replied.

By that time I was done pumping my gas and as interesting as things had been I needed to get going because my friend was already waiting for me at the theater, Re: quick getaway. I said good bye and drove off. On the way to the theater I tried to evaluate what could have encouraged him to ask me out. I wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary, a light Columbia jacket, jeans and Converse. My hair was just in a pony tail and I didn't have any make-up on.

In the end the only conclusion that I could come to was that he took my politeness as potential interest.

A Post Buffet

It's been over a month since my accident. My hand still hurts from time to time. I can't really grip anything too hard or I get a sharp pain up to my wrist and it hurts just making a fist. My knee is still sore to the touch on the side. It doesn't hurt to walk on it but if I have to kneel down or squat it really hurts. That sucks the most because before my accident I had been doing a lot of different work out exercises and I wasn't having any problems with it at all and now I feel like I'm back to square fucking one. It's frustrating. The only cool thing out of it is the scar on one of my knuckles, although it itches like a bitch some times.

I still have a small bump on my forehead. I wonder if that's going to go away completely. The doctor said when the mirror hit me in the head it crushed tissue and it would take a while to heal. I remember when I went back to work after my accident one of the guys I work with noticed the bump on my head and asked me about it. I told him about the accident and how the rear view mirror hit me, and he points to the other side of my forehead and goes, did it get you there too? I looked at him for a second and said, uh no that's just how my forehead is. He apologized quickly and I cracked up at him because he's always so nice and his face was too funny not to laugh. To make him not feel so bad I told him not to worry, my forehead does stick out a bit.

New topic.

I took Coda up to my grandfather's at the lake last week. I've never seen a dog who fights me so hard when it's time for a bath have so much fun playing in the water at the lake. Seriously, she constantly tries to climb out of the tub when I'm washing her but the second she set paw into the lake she was splashing around like a mad pup. Crazy dog. It was fun to watch her having so much fun though. She even got to go for a boat ride, which I was a little nervous about at first but she was really calm and sat nicely the entire time.

She and my grandpa also became best buds. She would check on me through out the day but she followed him everywhere and he loved it. He kept teasing me about it and trying to make me jealous and I let him have his fun. He misses having a big dog of his own ever since my grandma got her two small poodle mixes and vetoed getting anymore bigger dogs. I'm hoping to go back once more before the end of the summer.

Switching topics again, I started watching True Blood. Holy fuck that show has a lot of sex, but when the writers aren't too busy making their characters have crazy monkey sex, the show isn't half bad, even funny with lines like "I'm a fairy?! How fucking lame is that?"

Although at times it does seem like an R rated version of Twilight with the whole Edward/Jake vs. Bill/Eric rivalry, especially since they've thrown werewolves into the mix.

Tonight

I'm incredibly saddened that tonight will be the last time I see Harry Potter premier in theaters.

Summer Reading and the BBC

Since I got my iPhone I've been reading a lot more. It's so convenient to have the iBook app right on my phone and just whipping it out whenever I know there's going to be a long wait...(heh, that's what she said.) Because most of the classics are public domain, I downloaded a ton of them and have been gradually making headway.

So far I've read Jack London's, The Call of the Wild, such a good book if you haven't read it, The Scarlet Letter and Little Women.

Currently, I'm reading The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

I got the strong urge to read the book after seeing the BBC mini-series Jekyll, which is currently streaming on Netflix, *hint* the show is Uh-Mazing *hint*.

Next, I feel like going on an Oscar Wilde kick and reading The Picture of Dorian Gray and The Importance of Being Earnest.

In other news, Torchwood made the jump to Starz. I practically had a Nerd-gasm watching the first episode. It was great, drawing in some well known names like Bill Pullman and Mekhi Pheifer to add to the previously British cast. Though I was glad to see the show picked up where it ended with BBC, I wonder how new comers are going to take being thrown in the middle of a cast of characters that already has a long history.

If you watch Dr. Who at all then you'll understand when I say the mid-season finale gave me a full on Nerd-gasm. I have fallen completely in love with the show, even more so than I thought I could. Since the new Dr. Who series had premiered I would catch an episode here and an episode there, but I never actually took the time to sit down and watch from the beginning.

Halfway through season 1 I was hooked, but season 2 would be my ultimate demise where I fell head over heals for David Tennant as The Doctor.

The 10th Doctor and Rose were effing MTB and there was no arguing with me.

After the end of season 4 I was determined to cross my arms and pout, refusing to like Matt Smith as the 11th Doctor.

I failed miserably. What can I say, bow ties are just so cool.

Matt Smith's adorable awkwardness and brilliant acting as The Doctor swept me off my feet and assuaged any previous worry or doubt I had about my love for The Doctor.

Little Visitor

There is a mouse in my house. That sounds like a title to a children's book, but I will tell you right now it is not going to have a G rated ending.

I was letting Coda back in from outside when I happened to look over towards the end of my kitchen and saw him scurrying along the back wall to get out of sight.

My literal reaction was "Oh hell no little dude. You have to go." So now I get to make my way to Home Depot to pick up some mouse traps and hope he's the only one. Maybe Coda will do me a favor and get rid of him for me, she's pretty good about spotting stuff. She's hilarious to watch when she sees a fly or a moth or pretty much anything with wings.

Accident Part 2: The Scene of the Accident

Now that I'm feeling a bit better I can go into a little more detail about the accident.

I was on my way to work that morning and as I was going through an intersection a car in the left turn lane turned right in front of me and I full on nailed it. I had a green light so I think I had less than a couple seconds to hit my brakes and went head on into the side of her car and then bounced off and went into another car that was sitting at the red to go across the intersection. So I had the fun off two impacts.

When I hit the first car, the impact shoved the engine back into my car and so both of my knees went into the dash. That was probably the worst part, they hit the dash so hard that I couldn't feel them at first. I remember sitting in my car trying to stop hurting enough to move and all I could do was force myself to take shallow breaths. Scary.

One of the people driving behind me was an off duty EMT and he was the first one to come up to me after the accident and poked me hard in the middle of my chest telling me not to fall asleep because I was still stunned from the impact and wasn't moving. He happened to poke me right where my seat belt had come across my chest and boy did that wake me up. I sat up in my seat so quick that if I hadn't already hurt my neck I probably would have then. He had me sit back and take my seat belt off and asked me some questions about where I was hurting, if I could move my legs and get out of the car. I finally got some feeling back in my legs but by that point they were hurting so bad all I could do was wiggle them a bit. He reached around behind my neck to press on my spine and tell him if that hurt, it didn't. It was the muscles on the right side and my shoulder that hurt. The next day all I could figure was when I knew I was going to collide with the first car, I turned my face away and tensed up my shoulder and then when we hit I jarred them pretty good.

After he checked to make sure I didn't have any spine injuries he asked me if I knew my name, how old I was, standard questions because I had quite a bump on my head. I hadn't even realized there was anything wrong with my head by that point because I was still foggy, and when I reached up to lightly touch it I felt like I had a softball sticking out of the right side of my forehead. When I put my hand back down is when I noticed my left hand had been hurt pretty bad, it was bleeding quite a bit and I could only move my pinky and thumb.

At that point I was aware enough to do an injury count, I moved my right arm and that hurt my shoulder, my hand was hurting, I had some burns on my arm from the air bag, a few cuts from glass. I was shaking and my chest was really sore from the seat belt but nothing too serious, mostly though my knees were my focus, every thing else paled in comparison because they hurt the worst. All of this, from the time of impact to me finally regrouping enough to take in my aches and pains and surroundings was only a minute or so.

Strangely enough, my first reaction after I was able to think some what clearly was "I need to call work and tell them I can't make it in." When my uncle found out I called my work before the ambulance even arrived he commented that I better use that for incentive for a raise. I laughed.

After I got off the phone with my work I was still a bit disoriented and instead of calling my grandmother like I should have, I called my mom who lives in Florida. All I can remember thinking at that point was I need to talk to mom. I have no doubt that it was a comfort thing because my mom and I are super close and once she got on the phone and I told her what happened I broke down crying. I was hurting, disoriented, I didn't know if anyone else had been hurt, I was pretty sure my car was toast, and all I wanted was to talk to my mom so she could make it all okay.

Once I was showing I was fully aware of everything a lady who was on the phone with 911 handed me her cell. The dispatcher asked me some questions about my injuries and asked if I needed an ambulance and I said yes. After I handed the lady her phone back my mom was still on my cell and was also on her boyfriend's phone calling my uncle and my grandmother to see who could get to me first.

At this point things start to get a bit blurry, I can't remember if the ambulance or police arrived first, but I do remember an EMT coming over and checking my injuries and seeing how serious everything was. She checked my neck again because I had said the right side hurts and they made me put on a neck brace, which quite frankly was more irritating that my neck pain. What sticks out in my mind the most though is when she reached down to check my right knee and she pressed on it and I nearly broke down crying again because it hurt so bad I just blurted out "please stop touching me". So she had me move my legs again and try sliding them out of the car, which with some effort I could do, it just hurt like hell but by that point I knew nothing was broken so I managed to suck it up and do as she asked. The EMT walked away and a police officer came over and started asking me some questions about what happened, what direction was I driving in, how fast was I going, did I have a green light, was I wearing my seat belt, things like that.

I asked the police officer if the other two drivers were okay and he said there didn't seem to be anything too serious, we were all banged up and hurting but everyone would be okay. That was a sigh of relief.

After every one else had been packed up into an ambulance and taken away I was next and the EMT's had me see if I could get out of the car on my own. My left leg wasn't nearly as bad as my right so I was able to stand up and support my weight on that one but every time I tried to put weight on my right leg it kept trying to give out on me. So the EMT's supported me while I hobbled onto the gurney and they had me lay down. Once they got me into the back of the ambulance they took a better look at my knees and I couldn't help but laugh when the lady goes, "We're going to cut your pants off and don't freak out, they're already ripped and ruined anyway." She must have a lot of people complain about having their clothes cut off.

While I was laying there and they were asking me some more questions I saw the side door open out of the corner of my eye and I heard my uncle telling me he was here and that he was going to follow me to the hospital. He reached in and patted my shoulder and like a total girl I started to cry again because it was a relief to know he was there.

When the EMT's were done going over all of my injuries the lady hopped out and we headed for the hospital.

My uncle managed to get a picture of my car after I was on my way to the hospital.

If you click on it, the picture should expand.

Car Accident: Guardian Angel

Today, I totaled my car. Let me tell you something about a head on collision at 40 mph...It fucking HURTS.

Thankfully, I don't have anything too serious, a concussion (man you should see the knot on my head, I'll probably put a pic up soon), and some cuts, bruises and jammed appendages. But looking at my car it could have been so much worse. I'm not usually a religious person but when my mom said "you had a guardian angel watching over you," I found it a bit hard to argue.

One Dog For Sale

Anyone want to buy a dog? Name your price and she's yours! She's great with kids, has never bitten or shown aggression of any kind, loves being pet for hours and is a faithful companion on long walks. What's the catch, you say??? There's no catch, why would you think there's a catch? Did someone tell you there was a catch, who was it? Huh?! WHO TOLD YOU THERE WAS A CATCH????? Oh alright, here's the catch...SHE FUCKING CHEWS THROUGH EVERYTHING!

In the last two, almost three, months that I have had Coda she has chewed through my favorite pair of shoes, a cord for my only living room lamp, my ether-net cable, the battery charger for my camera, the charger for my cellphone, countless papers and napkins, the trash, a pair of jeans that fell out of my laundry basket, my dish sponge, not to mention Jesus' head and her bath towel.

But today was the last straw. She pushed me one step too far this morning. Usually in the morning, Coda and I have a routine. We wake up, I let her outside while I take my shower and get ready for work and by the time I'm done she's ready to come back in. This morning though, things deviated from our regular routine. My alarm went off and I got out of bed, but Coda didn't get up like she normally does so I figured she didn't have to go outside yet. I think nothing of it and hop in the shower and leave her to sleep some more. When I get out of the shower and change into my work clothes I see that Coda is up and about now so I ask her if she has to go outside and I get a tail wag in response so I know that's a yes. We head downstairs and that's when I see it.

Coda had chewed through the cord of my brand new vacuum. The brand new vacuum that I have used three, count them, one, two, THREE, times since I got it. And that was it, that was the last straw that broke the camels back. I saw red, and Coda new instantly that she was busted big time.

I was really quite disappointed that she had done that because I am not the type of person that likes to lock a dog up when I'm gone, growing up we always had dogs that roamed the house while we were gone and so I feel guilty when I leave and she has to be put in her cage. And with how well she had been doing the past month I was ready to give her that chance again, but then she blew it and now she has to stay locked up while I'm at work or taking a shower. Le sigh, why do I feel like the bad guy when she's the one that ruined my vacuum?? Dumb dog.

I'm Evil

Coda and I have been butting heads a lot lately, mostly with her trying to eat EVERYTHING she sees, including non-edible items. One of the things she does that I have been working very diligently of breaking her of is begging. I absolutely can not stand begging so I am very strict on that and never give her food while I'm eating and always drop it in her bowl when I do give it to her.

Today, I stopped by Sonic and got a Cherry-Limeade and while I was drinking it I noticed Coda was continually begging. So as an experiment I decided let her taste lime juice and see if that would deter her from begging at all. I pulled a lime out and when she reached for it I squirted the juice into her mouth.

I will say that it didn't stop her from begging but the face she made when she tasted the lime juice was hilarious. I didn't know dogs could make faces like that but she did.

Apparently I Missed the End of the World...

...Or so that's what the internet tells me. How is it the first I am hearing of this?! Man, that would have been the perfect excuse for a party. Oh well, I'm in luck since the world obviously didn't end and the date has been moved back. So save the date, party at my house, we can all get drunk and dance around to Lady Gaga. Sounds like a plan!

Shall I Tell You a Story?

I want to tell you a story, would you like that?

Imagine a day; a day like any other.

You wake up, get dressed, go to work, and walk miles in your well worn work shoes. You come home, do some of your daily house chores, play with the dog, change into street clothes and slip on your favorite pair of Converse that are just as worn as your work shoes with just as many miles but are so much more loved than they are. You run some errands, come home again, kick off your shoes, make some dinner, settle down for bed and begin to drift off for the night.

Only, something is amiss. What could it be? You toss and turn, no luck. You pause and listen. Do you hear it? That squeaking sound. Where is it coming from?

You sit up in bed, look around and listen some more. The sound is coming from under your bed. You draw up childhood memories of monsters under your bed, waiting for you to set one foot on the floor so they can bite it off.

You throw a pillow down first, just in case.

The squeaking stops.

You hold your breath and listen harder. You hear it again, squeak, squeak, squeak. It's a steady cadence of squeaks this time.

Completely befuddled, you throw off the blankets, climb out of bed and take two quick steps then freeze. That's when you spot it, at the end of your bed. Just there, do you see it? The source of the squeaking sound. Your eyes adjust to the darkness and to your horror you begin to take in such a terrible sight.

At the foot of your bed, a huddled black mass takes shape. Its fur is black as pitch, covering a well muscled body designed to pounce on its unsuspecting victims in the night. Its snout is long and pointed, filled with blindingly white teeth, so sharp they could chew through anything. But what terrifies you the most, is what you see gripped tightly between its dangerous claws.

You gasp!

The creature looks up at you without moving its head and continues to gnash its teeth. You're frozen in horror, because with every chomp of its jaws a high pitched squeak emerges.

"NO!" you yell, as you dive for that precious object held between the beast's hideous jaws. It dodges right. You dodge left and come up victorious, cradling your "precious" in your arms.

The beast looks up at you in confusion, and wags its tail.

In your arms you hold what was once the most beautiful, perfect, right-half of your favorite pair of aqua blue colored Converse shoes. Forever mangled and disfigured, you take a moment to mourn that shoe. You look down at that innocent size 9 and a single tear falls from the corner of your eye and travels down your cheek. The squeak you had heard was from the beast's teeth rubbing against the leather of the shoe. As if it were crying out in pain to be rescued from the heartless animal.

The tear dissolves and your anger filled eyes turn on the beast. It cowers, sensing that it has finally crossed a line and slinks toward its cage. You remind yourself that turning a dog into an area rug is illegal, no matter how nice of one it would make.

Don't fret my darlings, this story has a happy ending.

Out of your moment of defeat an idea emerges. You take to the internet like a woman possessed, scouring page after page of shoes until you find just the right ones. And there they are, one pair red and one pair black, but both as closely identical to the mangled one you hold in your hand as they can get without being the same shoe. You take the plunge, add them to your cart and check out.

Shipping takes two days, and you impatiently wait. You wait to see if your gamble is going to pay off. Was it possible to even come close to the perfection of those dearly departed pair of shoes? Could one pair, let alone two be as everlasting?

The shoes arrive.

You pull them out of the box, lace them up and take in that unmistakeable new shoe smell. You slip the first pair on, wiggle your toes, roll back on your heels and dare not hope. But that little voice in the back of your head whispers, "could it be?" You take them off and gently set them aside as you grab the second pair and put them on and follow the same process; toe wiggle, heel roll.

As you sit there and slowly take in the ramifications of what has just happened, Beethoven's Ode to Joy begins to play in the background. A miracle, a once in a lifetime shoe miracle, has just taken place! Both shoes fit perfectly, and both shoes are just as amazingly comfortable as the recently deceased pair! Oh, happy day!

The End


I told you it had a happy ending. And in case you were wondering, this and this are the shoes that I got.

Coda Vs. The Rake

Let me just say, the rake won.

The weather here has been really nice lately, sunny and warm with a slight breeze, perfect weather before it gets hotter than an oven the next two months. I had the last few days off so I took advantage of the wonderful weather to do some yard work. I was raking the yard trying to get some dead leaves from around the house and the dead grass when I noticed Coda kept avoiding the rake, she would skirt around to my other side placing me between herself and the rake. I held out the rake for her to investigate so she wouldn't be scared of it, she slowly inched up, sniffed the rake and relaxed a little.

As I continued raking Coda decided she wanted to play, she would bite and bark at the rake and then chase the leaves as I pushed them forward. It was cute and funny and we had a good time while I finished the yard up. By the time we headed back inside Coda was no longer afraid of the rake so I leaned it up against the side of the house and we settled down for the night.

This morning I let Coda out and went about my usual routine, my yard isn't completely fenced in so I use a tie-out, only I noticed Coda was being awfully quiet outside. Usually when she's out there I can hear her running after squirrels or barking at birds. I go outside to check on her and I find her cowering at the corner of my house. I tried to get her to come to me but for some reason she wouldn't move.

After a moment I notice that the rake is laying on the ground right on top of her tie-out leash. I forgot I had leaned against the side of the house and she must have knocked it over. Coda got up her courage and tried to move toward me but every time she moved, the rake would move too and she would get scared again. I was cracking up when I saw what was going on. It was one of those, awww-I-shouldn't-be-laughing-at-this-but-it's-really-funny-and-cute moments. So I rescued her from the evil rake and she bee-lined it for the door.

In the end the score was The Rake 1, Coda 0.

You know you had a good time when...

...you end the night getting kicked out of a bar.

:)

Good times.

A thought...

I feel a random questionnaire coming on, now if only I could find a good one. I haven't done one in at least a few months, it's definitely time to fix that.

Felt like updating...

...even though I really don't have anything to update about. Things have been keeping me busy so I haven't had the time I would like to write. And when I am writing I'm usually working on the half finished NaNoWriMo novel that I started waaay back in November. Yep, still writing that even though I've changed the ending about three different times. It's fun though, keeps the imagination sharp, you know? Do I pull a Joss Whedon? Kill off a major beloved character? Or a John Green? Bringing some ultimately profound life lesson into the mix? Or do I leave things open and loose with a few ends to continue writing if I need something to keep myself occupied? Who knows, I think it depends on my mood while I'm writing.

Things with Coda have been...challenging. I swear when she's not eating something she's not supposed to she's getting into other trouble. I'll elaborate more on that later this week if I have time.

Work has sucked donkey balls this past week. I think all of the fucking psychotic customers have come out of the wood work lately. The one that tops them all is this insane lady who accused me of stealing fifty dollars from her, told me to shut up when I explained to her that I didn't steal anything from her and then called me a bitch. She's lucky I needed my job more than I wanted to punch her in the face. Thankfully, my managers are on my side, they pulled the tapes and confirmed that I wasn't lying about not stealing money. That's probably what has pissed me the most off too, I don't care that she called me a bitch so much as I can't stand people who steal and accusing me of stealing just makes me that much more angry.

I finished watching Dollhouse finally. I can't remember why I stopped watching the 2nd season midway through, probably got busy with work or school but last week I had 3 days off in a row and decided to marathon season's 1 and 2. I also saw the King's Speech which I absolutely loved, I can see why it got so many awards.

I'm looking forward to Friday, a bunch of people from work are going out together and I think it's going to be a good time. I get along really well with everyone going, plus the place we're going to sells Long Islands in these mini trash can things. Yuuuuuummmm!

One of the girls that's going is really funny because we play really well off each other, we can get a conversation going and just keep it escalating with our ridiculousness. I think our latest funny/wrong conversation was about the weather and amount of murders taking place in the city lately. She mentioned something about how in the winter time everyone stays in doors and makes babies and the summer time everyone wanders around at night killing each other. And I said well at least it's a good form of population control because it all balances out so there's enough room for the babies. One of the other girls I work with looks at both of us with a face of horrified amusement and then punched me in the arm for what I said. I just think she was mad because I made her laugh at something so wrong. Sometimes that's the best kind of humor. It eases the tension about serious topics and helps relieve the stress about the fact that it's only going to be May and there have already been more than 20 murders in the city so far.

I just noticed my clock says 1:43am. I love you too clock! That's one of my favorite numbers. For as long as I remember that has been a little code between my mom, my brother and I. It's not a secret or anything, but I remember my mom using it when we were younger and didn't want to embarrass us in front of our friends by yelling "I love you sweetheart!" like you see in movies and such. She would always just say "one four three" and we would know and shout it back. We still use it to this day, I'll get a text with just 143 in it. One of my friends Kini asked me once why we didn't just say I love you and I didn't know the answer until I thought about it for a moment and told her it was because they mean the same thing. The number has become completely synonymous to the words for us.

Well, I think this post has rambled on enough and I've covered multiple topics that I wanted to talk about. So I shall say goodnight sweet world, 143!