I had a weird rash on my hip when I woke up Sunday. I thought perhaps it was a bugbite, but it began to spread up my side and onto my leg. Being the hypochondriac that I am, I googled that shit immediately to see what it could possibly be:
1. Bed Bugs... I thought to myself "if it is I'll die"
2. Flea Bites... "If it is I'm a serious skank and will never touch another feral cat so long as I live"
3. Worms.... "I'm never touching another feral cat, or letting my dog drink from my coffee cup again"
4. Poison Oak/ Poison Ivy... "But I haven't had any naked romps in the woods recently!"
5. Contact Dermatitis .... "I learned my lesson LAST TIME I used a new scented lotion"
6. Flesh Eating Bacteria.... "I'm fucked."
After three days of serious freaking out, I went to the Doctor's. He didn't know what the rash was, and said he'd never seen anything like it (great). I was slightly relieved when he ruled out bug bites. He prescribed a super duper hydrocortisone cream, but nothing else (I was hoping he'd give me some antibiotics, just to be safe- luckily I keep a stash at home for instanced like these :D ), and he said to come back if it spread more or wasn't gone within a week. At the last minute I recalled a little jaunt up a wooded embankment through the cemetery I had taken the Friday before the rash. Ah ha! The doctor decided I had probably rubbed up against a nasty plant and had some sort of allergic reaction. Well, that's not really a good enough answer for a control freak, and I still needed to know specifically what my rash was and what had caused it. Naturally, the fact that they "all knowing/fix anything" doctor didn't know EXACTLY what my rash was REALLY freaked me out, so upon returning home that night after a long, hard day at Macehole's, I got back on the internet to research (this is always a mistake because one starts believing they are going to die... For a while I had convinced myself I had Toxic Shock Syndrome). I almost died when I took a bath and saw spots on my precious ass. I'm not ashamed to admit I cried, and pleaded with the gods above that "I will never, ever again degrade or not appreciate what I've been given in life or what genetics I've been dealt, if you make these spots go away!" God does exist, because when I woke up today, the spots were gone, and there was just a small hint of the original rash on my hip, which is clearly fading now. I've learned to appreciate my health over the years every time I got sick and felt like complete shit, or saw someone in a wheelchair, or with a serious condition, but I guess I never really appreciated the health of my skin until now. I will never take for granted the fact I live a life free of eczema, shingles, cystic acne, scars, or other things.
I thought I had escaped seeing hoards of stupid SUNY sluts when I graduated SUNY Oneonta, but working at a makeup counter in Macehole's, one sees many, many misinformed young women pass by on a daily basis. The look is still the same: Hair is bleached blonde, or dyed that really dark, almost-black brunette (do they have parties where they dye each other's hair?). Skin: Tanning-bed orange, with lots and lots of bronzer. Eye Make Up: Maximum eyeliner. Other Make Up: None of which to speak (it's all in the eyes baby). Clothing: Leggings, SUNY sweatshirt or Northface Jacket, Uggs, or leather riding boots. Sigh. I can't knock these girls too hard, because these seem to be the type of girls guys find really hot (though maybe that's because they're just dumb sluts). But it really made me think about things. I mean, at FIT, there were no sororities of which to speak, but when I transferred to Oneonta, there were a ton. I never once got an invite to pledge. Maybe I wasn't hot enough? I don't know, but today (on my first day off in 6 days), I decided to see what I would look like as a stupid SUNY slut. While I was doing laundry, I played around with some bronzer and eyeliner, and found my Tiffany & Co. Jewelry at the bottom of my accessory basket. I straightened my hair and did that homely little center puff pull back that all of those girls seem to find cute. I didn't have the desire to dye my hair black or blonde, so sadly I had to leave it red. Here is the result:
*Sigh* Not very convincing. LOL.... I must say that wearing that much makeup makes one sweat furiously! I felt like a new baby when I washed it off my face.
I don't really know what my fascination with this type of girl is... maybe I'm just jealous. Maybe I'm resentful of all of the years I spent living a celibate, lonely life because the frat-boy type never went after me because I didn't fit the mould. Maybe I felt inferior because this was the girl getting drunk and hit on with her ass cheeks hanging out in the middle of January, while I sat at the bar in my jeans with not a single bite from anyone. The world will never really know, but for now, I will continue to hate on this type of girl and consider her a dumb ho for being such a conformist with such bad taste (Tiffany charms are soooo 2002).
I think this will be an awesome weekend, mainly because I am not scheduled to work for once in my life. I am going out tomorrow with a long lost friend, and a good friend who is still in school (and loves to hate on the type of girl seen above with me... that's what really brought us together in the first place I think :p ). I can't wait! Furthermore, my sister and brother-in-law are coming home for the weekend and we have the annual family picnic at my uncle and aunt's cottage Saturday (yes, all 8 of our family members will be in attendance... my family is SO small). Oh well, it's an excuse to drink Sag (a delicious rum punch) and gain 10 lbs. from devouring my aunt's cheese tray, my dad's baked beans, and countless grilled sausages. Sunday I have plans to make some homemade 'Mrs. Prindable's" apples (If you've never experienced a Prindable apple, you're missing out:
And so any first time readers out there don't think that's what I actually look like, here's a pic of me being a white dumb slut (as opposed to a fake tanned one).
Hey, I worked all summer for these abs and the only person who sees them is my bf, like once a frickin month. I might as well start eating all the cheesburgers I want at this rate.
And on a closing note, the feral cats I have been feeding for like a month now are reaching that age where we absolutely MUST capture them (they need spayed/neutered so as not to produce more babies without homes). The one I call Bijou (he's my little gay boy), is a little piggy and has almost doubled in size. He has the daintiest meow ever (hence his name and the fact I believe him to be gay). The black kitten, named Pot Pie (my mom threw out pot pie scraps one Sunday and the kitten ate it), is a girl (I'm pretty sure) is still really skittish and won't come too close. Bijou has let me pet him and I even picked him up one day (maybe that's why I have this rash), hence why I am really set on letting him inside the home (once he's been neutered, bathed, and had flea meds applied). Hopefully Pot Pie can be adopted after we get her spayed, but if not she will continue to be an outdoor cat that we will continue to feed, water, and provide with an outdoor shelter (I made a ridiculous hut for these cats using a kennel, tarp, and blankets... hopefully I can provide something less ghetto if Pot Pie stays here). There is also a mom cat that we want to bring into get spayed (if we can catch her in a live trap). Here are some photos for your viewing pleasure:
Here's Bijou being a piggy as usual (see the way he licks his chops? lmao)... one day my mom gave him a full english breakfast and he ate it ALL (there was an over-easy egg, and a breakfast sausage... no lie, it was gone within 10 min).
And this is Pot Pie, afraid to eat while I snapped the picture, as her loving mom looks on. lmao. I'm turning into a crazy cat lady. YIKES!
