I don't usually buy into conspiracy theories. Maybe Lee Harvey Oswald was a "lone nut", maybe he was a patsy. I don't really give it any form of thought. I don't think commercial planes are dumping poison onto urban areas, nor do I think the government created HIV to rid the nation of the drug addicts and gays (come on - someone has work in Nordstrom). The Holocaust happened and Elvis isn't living in an Airstream in the woods in Lefor, North Dakota.
This being said - I am positive that a band of people are out to get me. Specifically they are determined to make sure I look my worst for Matt's party on Saturday.
(I should probably close my blinds before I go on.)
Here are who I believe to be the Four Horsemen of my coming apocalypse.
My physics professors: Not only does the subject absolutely suck, but they each gave me study guides for their finals that are the equivalent of a phone book. Not that little Dex thing, but the old school phone book that is so big it's broken into volumes of A-L and M-Z and the pages are . . . well, I can't say "paper thin" - "tissue paper thin"? That's my study guide. Only phone books make more sense.
Canadians: Lately there has been this cold snap in Colorado. This is how imagine it would be to live on Pluto. In winter. Right now its like -5 degrees outside. Today I noticed that the first day of winter is like two weeks away. That means it's still technically fall and it's 5 below. F you, Canada. Close your freaking door, you're letting the cold air out. You chose to live in arctic tundra, you deal with it. (Especially those butt-holes in Nunavut!)
The Furnace Man: I got a new furnace a while back to warm up my poorly insulated house. It's amazing in that it provides a solid base for my insane need for warmth. I can then pepper my dwelling with additional pockets of increased heat with random space heaters, oil filled radiators, and my enormous electric blanket
Matt: He's the Lucy to my Ethel, the Shirley to my Laverne, and most recently - my favorite vehicle for speedy lipid delivery into my bloodstream! Who are we kidding, I've only been on the "Matt diet" for two days (doing VERY well, by the way). But over the last two months Matty has a.) made me burgers, fries, and chocolate cake (all from scratch for my birthday - thank you very much) b.) pan fried chicken and waffles (holy crap - yum!) and c.) totally egged me on to binge myself sick at McDonald's. (see below. shameful.)
Hot-n-spicy McChickens: 5
pumpkin pie pocket: 1
Ounces of soft drink: about 700.
Yesterday I woke up after a really late night of studying for my physics finals. Like, a really reeeeally late night. When I woke up I found myself to be in a deep freeze. Not only has this Arctic (Plutonian?) Front not lifted, but the ignitor on my furnace went out. The furnace fan stayed on. This means that while there is no more heat in my house, COLD air is blasting out of the floor registers.
The only thing that kept me from screaming "MOTHER F---" was that now my lips and face are so chapped that I would have created cracks on my mug that would probably have leaked greasy, buttery, blood. I ran to my bathroom (possibly with icicle tears clinging to my eyelashes) to take a hot shower when I saw something.
I guess the stress of my finals are making my fat-rich blood in need of a release because there is now a giant zit on my face. Framed neatly with pale pink flakes of dry skin. I look like an angry mutant albino ice lizard in mid-molt that just ate a stash of red fish eggs and one is still stuck on my face. It actually distracted me so that it took a moment to realize that the black circles under my eyes are truly heinous. I'm an ice lizard going through chemo?
Matt's graduation party is less than a week away. 2009 has been the year of my attending parties full of people I'm meeting for the first time while looking like I came directly from a bar fight . . .
Lets see some examples
Random Mardi Gras Party - not only was I WAY older than anyone else, I believe I was sporting a split lip and a black eye.
Fourth of July Party - severely sun burned and peely from laying sod for Zahra, also fall-down drunk, thanks to my friend Justin and his mission to finish off the kegs for clean up purposes...
AIDS walk after-party - Soaking wet from a freak downpour and sporting an awkward limp
It seems that the only time I'm presentable is when I don't need to make a good first impression. If I know most of the attendees I'll look amazing. Otherwise, it's a test to see if new people will talk to me despite my Swamp-Thing appearance. They don't.
NOT gonna happen this time.
1. Furnace fixed? Check
2. Acne cream applied liberally to my cheek? Check
3. Scrubbing the rest of my face until its rosy and clean? Check
4. Roll around in kiddy pool of Burt's Beeswax? Check
5. Finish finals? . . .
5. Finish finals??? okay, check.
Now I just need to spend the next three days in the conservatory of the Butterfly Pavilion to thaw out my clogged arteries and cleanse those pores!!
P.S. Just for future reference:
1 Bedroom + 1 Space Heater (cranked to the max) + 1 Radiator (also to the max) + 1 King Size Electric Blanket = Cozy Quarters for 1 Wiener Dog, 1 Cat, 4 Cockroaches, 2 Tarantulas, and 1 Fugly Chad