Monday, March 29, 2010

Birthday Blues Part 2

I didn't realize there would be a happy ending to my birthday blues tale from last week. The people I work with like me apparently (go figure, right?) and threw me a birthday party at work on Friday. I found out that they had been running around all day getting a card signed, picking up a cake, and collecting for the Sara-is-so-fucking-poor-can-we-please-get-that-bitch-some-money-so-she-can-cut-her-damn-hair fund.

And I have never been surprised before in my life (concerning birthdays anyway), so this was a big, happy shock. I even teared up a little.

The 21st birthday partying was a success, too. Although I only stayed out until 2:30. I spend the first half of the night saying (yelling), "STAYIN' OUT TIL 6 AM WHOOOOOOO" and at 2:30 was more "Gonna be sick....let's go home." But what was I supposed to do when people were buying me birthday shots, turn them down? Hell no. No drinks wasted here.

(Aside: I realized this weekend that I am, in fact, a woo girl. I'm all calm and shit until I've had one too many rum and coke drinks and then BAM! I'm woo-ing all over the place.)

And after I puked, I was ready to go party again, but we were almost home. Guess I'll save that for next weekend.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Birthday Week Blues

"Birthday Week" was a very big deal in my household growing up. My sister and I would always say that we could do whatever we wanted during our birthday week.

Mom: Sara, do the dishes.
Me: It's my birthday week. I'm not doing shit!
Mom: Excuse me?
Me: Um, yes ma'am?

So it may not have always worked, but we definitely tried. Yesterday began my birthday week... and so begins my sad, sad tale of the shitty, horrible, no good, very bad birthday week.

I woke up at 7:35 yesterday morning and was out the door at 7:45 (my usual). The road I take faces directly East. Being that it was 7:45 AM, the sun was in the East and blinded my fucking vision. Also, there are NO. FUCKING. YELLOW. LINES. on this road. Because apparently this tiny town is just not important enough for silly little things like LINES that keep traffic SAFE. So since there aren't any safe, life saving yellow lines, I can't tell if I'm on the road or not. That is just how shitty the roads in my town are. They might as well be dirt. Right as I think I'm almost at the end of the road...

A FUCKING TRUCK AND TRAILER POP OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE FUCK FUCK WHAT THE FUCK?! This genius decided to park juuuuuuust right off the tip of the road. Apparently I forgot that stupid dickheads park right off the road. WHERE THEY NEVER PARK. Until yesterday, of course. As my car tears into the end of their trailer, I simultaneously scream, slam on the breaks, and start crying. Because I always cry when I get in wrecks. To the point where people are asking if I've been injured. And I almost wish I have been because then at least I would have a reason to be crying like a fucking moron.

Good morning, Birthday Week! I almost forgot how much I hate you every single FUCKING year. Because every year, on my birthday week, something always goes wrong.

Oh, and when the cop was talking to me at the end of all of this, his answer to driving while the sun is in your eyes?

"Don't drive."

WHOA. I think we need to hire this guy to solve the problems of the world. From now on, every morning, my boss will be receiving this call.

"Hello, W? Yeah, I'm going to be about two hours late this morning. I have to wait for the sun to rise a little. Ha ha. That crazy fucking sun."

Happy 21st Birthday Week to me! I'll be the one getting drunk and laughing/crying all night!

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Spin Classes Can Suck My You-Know-What

I imagine that hell is something like a never-ending spin class that you aren't allowed to leave.

I have only taken one spin class before, and it was a rinky dink one at my college before my night class started. It was pretty miserable, but I didn't die or anything.

But then.... then my gym decided to start a "studio" and have classes like BodyPump (ouchy arms), BodyAttack (you have got to be fucking kidding me if you think I have that much energy), and spin classes.

I decided to try the hour-long spin class last night and let me tell you.... I wanted to stab myself in the face the whole time. Or maybe stab my adorable, skinny, way-too-entergetic instructor in her perfectly toned buttocks.

For some reason, I chose the bike right in front of the instructor in a room the size of a jail cell. But smaller. So the whole time I'm spin cycling, I'm trying to avoid awkward eye contact with Ms. Has-to-be-on-crack-because-how-else-are-you-this-fucking-entergetic.

I had to do the "moderation" (aka lazy fatass way) for all the cycling because I'm ridiculously unfit apparently. And when they are doing the ridiculously hard shit, I am trying to sneakily lower my resistance to make it easier, but the damn instructor sees me and says "Don't touch that handle!" and I cry a little inside.

And I was going to leave in the middle, but it's kind of hard to sneak out of a room that is 4 feet by 4 feet so they would see me getting up to leave and say "Don't leave! You want to be fit, right?!" in voices that are way too hyper and I'm all "No! I don't want to be physically fit! I want to be skinny! Being anorexic would be way easier than this shit!" But I just climbed my ass back up on the bike and wheezed my way through the rest.

And did I mention how bad my ass hurts today? I woke up three times last night just so my ass could say, "Hey! I'm hurting! Why don't you wake up and join me for this?" I almost considered calling in to work this morning so I could stay home and ice my butt. Those banana seats are made for 8 years old, not 20 year old fatasses!

Damn happy instructors trying to make me fulfill a healthy lifestyle.