Monday, 11 February 2013

Of Course a Bear with Chainsaw Hands is an Appropriate Way to Express My Feelings

I've never been one for Valentine's Day. I think it's a silly, pointless "holiday", and I don't really understand why people make such a big deal over it. I personally believe that we should tell and show the people we care about that we love them, every single day of the year, and not just one arbitrary day in the middle of February. Sure it's nice to get gifts, and believe me, I love getting presents, but wouldn't it be awesome to get a present on some random Tuesday, rather than something that someone was forced to buy because they wanted to fit in? But here's the rub, you almost feel obligated to get your significant other a present, otherwise you end up looking like an complete and utter asshole when they give you a present and you've got nothing for them.

Now, my Gentleman and I have briefly talked about Valentine's Day, and haven't really decided if we are going to celebrate or not. In past relationships I didn't do the whole V-Day thing. One guy I dated hated Valentine's Day so much that he actually got angry that I said "Happy Valentine's Day" (needless to say that didn't work out). At least with him I knew were I stood and I knew that I wouldn't have to get him a gift, but let's flash forward a couple year to now. My Gentleman is the bestI have expounded on several occasions. But the thing is, he is just cheesy enough to throw me a curve ball and actually do something on Valentine's Day. This is a problem for someone who doesn't deal well with surprises. So now I have this predicament. Do I risk not getting him something and looking like an even bigger asshole than I already am, or do I get him something and risk looking like a complete fool because he actually listened to me when I said I wasn't super pumped about Valentine's Day? In my eyes, it's a lose-lose situation. In the end, I wind up looking like a fool.

I think maybe I'll give thim this Valentine, because I think it accurately describes how I feel about him on any given day. Wish me luck?


Friday, 8 February 2013

This Could Be a Slippery Slope to Bad Decisions

Is it terrible that I kind of like this?

I mean, perhaps her music would be tolerable if all her songs sounded like this. I might go to musical hell for saying this, but I actually don't mind it. I actually might kind of like Ke$ha stripped of autotune and artificial beats. I really hope this isn't a slippery slope into actually listening to top 40 music. That would be a bad decision. Quick! Someone promise to slap me if that actually happens.

Happy Friday Lovelies!


Monday, 4 February 2013

A Healthy Sense of Fear

I learned at a very young age to fear the dentist. He was always the one who put sharp objects in my mouth and made me cry from the giant ass freaking needles. I've had a lot of needles in my 27 years, and the ones at the dentist are by far the largest. Because of this, I came to see my poor, sweet, patient and kind dentist as a serial tooth kidnapper, something akin to that guy who offered Anne Hathaway money for her teeth in Les Mis. This healthy fear has lead me to have a very, well, let's just say, special relationship with my dentist. He's the only dentist I have ever known. I've been seeing him basically since I grew teeth. I guess you could say he's also the longest relationship I've ever had. I always joke that my dentist has to prepare for a week before I come and visit him, but it's not really a joke. Just like every other health care professional in my life, he knows that I am not an easy patient to have. There are almost always tears, and yelling, and petulance, and a little bit of bargaining. At the end of the day, he is the only one who has never given into my demands, which is actually quite surprising. He's also the only who looks genuinely terrified when he sees me, but that's usually because I am yelling about the fact that I have a cavity or some other dental malady.

Today I saw my dentist. And he came in with that same deer in the headlight fear in his eyes as he does every single time I go to see him. But this time, there were no tears, only light banter that I thought made him really uncomfortable. He looked like a poor cornered animal, or someone who knew that they were dealing with a potentially volatile situation and all he wanted to do was back away slowly. Which is exactly what he did after he told me that I have no cavities. That's a freaking miracle considering all the things I consume on a similar basis.

How am I celebrating you ask? By consuming as much sugary crap as I possibly can. And trying to plan a trip for my gentleman and I. Except that's hard and I just want to go, not have to plan it. I'm failing at adulthood right now. Here's this instead.

Hugs and rainbows!