what i don't need: an open letter to my future life partner

there are many many things i do not need. but before we go into those, i'd like to mention one thing i do need: i do need children to walk in front of me and utter things like "but i have no IDEA what it's like to be a mushroom!" and then have his friend say "just try... just try to think like a mushroom."

but in the list of things i do not need: lots of furniture, lots of clothes, an ipod, a recipe for split-pea soup because it's disgusting, and, of course, i do not need an ex-boyfriend who broke my heart a year and 1/2 ago emailing me to let me know that i (and the professor) are beneficiaries on his life insurance policy. i just don't need it. i don't need the feeling of getting punched in the gut it brings, i don't need the reminder of how much i compromised myself for one person, and i don't need the wondering what the hell the whole thing even means. i'm lost enough in the whole human dating/mating ritual thing as it is; unless a guy tells me "you're hot. i like you. i think we should go out." i have no idea what's going on. so this? THIS? i don't want it. i don't need it. i'm not interested in going down that road again and i sure as hell do not need the journey back.

so back to the things i do need: Lactaid when i want to eat delicious ice cream, books about serial killers and goofy science, and apparently more bath towels, as i dried myself off with a hand towel after yoga tonight. i also need my future amazing life partner to realize that the time of hiding himself is done. that he needs to both himself and i a favor and get serious with this whole thing. i would like to have said man threaten to beat someone up when they hurt my feelings, then have us both start laughing after he says it because we're pacifists.... and have him read books in bed before we go to sleep and/or make-out....and honestly, have us do all the boring stuff that people in relationships hate but i miss. and we can go on road trips and be best friends forever.

worthy addition

notable quote of the evening delivered from wei-te, a.k.a. mark, in regards to faraz's attempt to have him solve his uno card-shuffling debacle using an equation: "you're trying to have me solve a four-dimensional equation without any constants." he was incensed. faraz told him to use 3. it didn't go well.

hermaphrodites is a good way to start

at left is a a picture of kids fighting. it's cute and kind of hilarious. it is nothing like how i fight.

and it's sad... really sad because so many people are SO AWESOME. seriously. so many folks i know are amazingly empathetic and honest and supportive and intelligent and witty and delightful and compassionate and *sigh.* and then there is this whole other group of people: people who remind me of how much i like my friends and how fantastic folks can be and why now, more than ever, darwin and his selective power needs to squeeze the shit out of some people's faces.

i have met the notorious "big red." it happened at lunch today.. and may i just say that i was lucky enough to have her sit down as my lunch partners and i were in mid-conversation on the sweeping hermaphrodite epidemic that my regular-year students think is sweeping the nation.
she proceeds to squeal out in the most nasally, freckley voice "um... in my multicultural studies class we learned that they don't like being called hermaphrodites." really? that's fascinating you're in a multicultural studies class because i'm offended by the fact that the word "multicultural" just came out of your mouth. i suspect your idea of multiculturalism is watching The Sopranos and going to Fogo de Chao.

THEN the amazing older gentleman M.D. neuroscience teacher says "i don't think they like hermaphrodites. i think they like being called its." oh jim... you are a delight. we all start laughing super hard and red rocket mutters "well that's just as offensive as what she said."

yep. it's on. you're an idiot.

and the amazing comments keep coming... she asks where i teach, i tell her the city, she tells me she teaches in the county (no shit you do) then asks what school i teach at, i tell her, and then she goes on to tell me how much she hates my school because they do so well at the Maryland science fair. then she says "so are you a part of the science fair?" me: "no." red rocket then snidely chips in: "oh... i would figure you being a DOCTOR and all you would be all into that."

official. enemies.

my retort was that i think the science at science fairs is really sad because the projects totally lack imagination and i feel bad for the kids. and then when neuroscience man leaves and i comment on how nice he is, she makes sure to let me know that she's known him for four years. and has been coming to nerdball camp for that long. that's great. really really great. because i'm pretty sure the ten minutes i have spent with you have stunted my intellectual and emotional growth by just about that much.....

and it's just day 2.

fiona and mr. perfect

these are my new earrings. i love them.

today was the first day of the second session of the third best nerdball camp. kidding. it's the number one nerdball camp. the last three weeks of my life were spent lecturing total dweebs on the minutiae of genetics, giving students nicknames like "wolfman," being amazed by the ability of one of my students to make origami men playing guitars and men playing violins and double helices and coffins with corpses that pop out of them, and watching presentations on Drosophila where my kids identified that the difference between male and female Drosophila is that the males have black butts. And then wondering why I was giggling so hard in the back. i also met some of the most wonderful adult folks i have met in a very long time.... so nice they let my non-imbibing self play beer pong and corn hole and go to dance parties and let me get crazy with crafts for them. and then two of the bestest left. and what has their absence been replaced with? oh... i shall tell you...

some of the new instructors....
1. mr. perfect. his name is mr. perfect and he is a chemistry instructor and he is british and i'm 99% sure he's a spy sent on a secret mission to infiltrate terribly administrated and overly passive-aggressive summer camps. i want to be his best friend/excuse for a torrid tea affair.
2. ms. no-bra from the east. she's the new biology TA. she is chinese and apparently likes the phrase "goddamn it" and doesn't wear bras. with boxy ill-fitting polo shirts. she's going to be so awesome in air conditioning.
3. ms. fiona the censor a.k.a. red rocket. i have heard much about this woman (also nicknamed "big red") and how our meeting may cause the earth to split open and some sort of cosmic battle ensue. she covers pictures of the reproductive system in textbooks with post-it notes. my goal is to say "vagina" as much as possible in our first meeting. she looks like fiona. from shrek. with lots of freckles. and she likes to stare at me during instructional meetings. probably already has planned a way to put a post-it on my vagina.

and some of our returning favorites...
1. todd, a.k.a. panther. that's the new nickname i've given him because he's from illinois and has the BEST midwest accent ever and when i suggested that everyone grow a mustache for second session, he said he couldn't and that it was something he really hated about himself. i then followed him around all night waiting for him to say funny stuff.
2. ngs. ngs and potter (soon to be introduced) got into a backbending contest at the last dance party. it did not go well. ngs teaches astrophysics and i'm pretty sure that most of the glittery shiny stuff she wears is made directly from stardust. she is awesome.
3. potter. potter drunk is like a six-year-old drunk. not that i've seen a six-year-old drunk, but potter is the most happiest drunk i have ever seen. lots of giggling and squealing and high fives.

those are the good things..... the administration of the place is an entire story in itself..... but we shall wait until further madness ensues to lay that all out.... til then, i've got a vagina to cover.

well hello again....

and i'm back. again. after a long hiatus... with proton.

and the reasons for my rising like an inked phoenix from a mountain of cookie crumbs?? several. 1: how else would my friends keep up with my fleeing the advances of balding married men i work with? or newly separated men who live around the corner from me? or dates with men who look like mr. burns? 2: blogging about the dailies of life is such a nice way of reminding yourself that each day is chock-full of absolutely wondrous insanity and humor. 3: i really really really like making my friends laugh. a lot. both liking and making.

so yes... the dating hijinks that pepper my existence are back. and in some way, knowing that they are entertaining other folks makes them a little bit better to deal with. it's like i'm going on all these terrible dates and engaging in incredibly awkward conversations for you. FOR YOU. like a recent one with a guy i work with. ran into him at a bar... and mind you, i have really never ever had a conversation longer than three words with this man. so he sees me and squeals like we're long-lost separated bestest of friends... the conversation progresses (after he learns my name) and before i know it, i'm aware of how much pot he smokes, that he smoked it before coming to the bar, and that i am apparently quite awesome. conversation went like this:

he: "so you're married."
me: "no... no. i'm single."
he: "wah? why are you single?"
me: **trying not to scream THAT IS THE FUCKING DUMBEST QUESTION I HAVE EVER BEEN ASKED** "i don't know."
he: "are you lesbian?"
me: **trying not to scream THAT IS THE FUCKING SECOND DUMBEST QUESTION I HAVE EVER BEEN ASKED** "no. i am not a lesbian."
he: "i think you're a blast."
me: "great."

then it really got fun when he found out i don't drink. he suggested we share a beer at some point, and i said he could have a beer and i would have a root beer. he then let me know that it's totally cool i'm an alcoholic. *sigh* lesbian. alcoholic. perfect.

then yesterday a married friend from the dog park let me know that he and his wife separated so we should hang out some time. all i remember after that is my skin getting hot and me saying "oh... that's too bad" over and over again.

my new fancy plan is to have these sorts of things happen with guys i am actually attracted to. that would really revolutionize my weekends and maybe even week nights. in a really carnal way. i just gots to figure out how exactly that whole thing works. reeling in the hot, smart ones who like eating delicious things and reading books, that is. and making out.

and then there's my new summer job full of delightful new friends who i heart very much and equally outrageous people who deserve fat punches in the throat that stun them long enough for me to punch them in the cooter. but those stories, my dears, shall have to wait....

i'm back....

soon. very very soon. like later tonight. MONTHS of build-up.

boobs bra blammo

today i went to my tattoo guy to start chatting about what i want done to my back. in order to plan this out, josh had to trace my back. which involved me having to take my top off. so i was just in a bra. the WORST. BRA. I. OWN. all full of fabric balls and kind of ill-fitting the type of bra you wear under multiple layers and when there's ZERO chance of having anyone see it. so not only am i showing more skin to a man than i've shown in over six months, i'm showcasing the most nastiest piece of underwear possible.

oh... but what could make it worse? let's expand....

1-i'm wearing pantyhose with sweet control top that almost meet that weak-ass bra at my belly midpoint. so... when josh wasn't wondering why a single 32-year-old woman is wearing the boob clothes of a 50-year-old married woman, he was losing himself in a sea of opaque spanks. when he asks where my back ends and butt begins, i have to point a good 8 inches below where the top of the hose have worked their way into my skin and really, let's be honest, etched themselves into his heart.

2-it seems that my sugar indulgence has finally come back to bite me. i've been sweating like a pig.... like. a. pig. at yoga the other night, i wondered where that smell of onions was coming from and realized it was me. me. me with the sweaty feet that have wet their way through more pairs of socks this week than i'd like to admit. so.... let's add all this together...

ill-fitting boob cover + bea arthur stomach girdle + sweat stained linen dress = total. sex pot. seduction.

and yes.... as i'm standing there in my bra, trying to hold my shoulders back with my hands on the hips pretending i'm super comfortable standing next to my tattoo guy, chatting about the best way to shade cherry blooms when one of us is WAY more naked than the other, i did say "you know, had i known this was going to happen i would have worn a much better bra." and then zipped that dress up up up.