A fact or a ridiculous notion?

I cannot live without talk radio. When the zombie apocolypse inevitably takes place I am hoping that the first voice I hear over the AM waves is Michael Savage saying: "This is Michael Savage with the Savage Nation. Now we really are a Savage Nation; those socialist zombies, those flesh eating marxists, they think they can take whatever they want. Well we'll show them. We are Americans."

I don't know why I chose Michael Savage to be the one conservative radio host that would live through the zombie apocolypse but it seems somehow plausible.

Hello Armpit Hole.

Every once in awhile I have a shirt that will rip in the armpit. Never anywhere else-just the armpit. The ghost ripper of shirt armpits is not my friend. In fact, he baffles me. Why ghost ripper of shirt armpits, WHY?

Things I have anxiety over but shouldn't.

The author of my new (second) favorite blog made a list of things she has anxiety over that she shouldn't. I started to feel that most every woman I know has the same problem and thought I would entertain the (masses) by detailing mine. So without incident here are items 1-3.

1. Teretts. And no disrespect to people who actually have it....But I am actually terrified that I will blurt out something horrible, distasteful and/or reprehensible at a moment not of my choosing. Like, for instance, I will say something weird and categorically untrue like, "oh yes, I know him. In the biblical sense." in front of the Mormons. Or asking a particularly decent looking client if he'd like me to take his shirt...err...coat! And then I will get fired. And have to hook to pay the bills. Hey, there ain't no rest for the wicked after all-thank you Elephant Cages or whatever your weird band name is for creating an environment where there is moral flexibility regarding employment choice.

2. Burning the house down. I am not sure when or why this fear developed but I have a borderline A&E style obsession with checking the stove burners, the hair straightener, and the dryer for signs of flame. Before I leave the house I sometimes check it 3-4 times. It's ridic.

3. A plane crashing into my house.

All of these scenarios are highly improbable. I think they make medication for this kind of thing.

Sara

Sometimes I just....fail.

In high school I was obsessed with having a nose job. I hated my nose. I thought it was huge. Whenever I would see a picture where my nose was prominent; I would cringe. Apparently, my parents didn't think that plastic surgery was an awesome idea and I would have to wait until adulthood to obtain said rhinoplasty. Now that I am 24 I have not only come to terms with my "Houser Schnauzer" but I actually kind of like it. It's quirky and quite frankly fits nicely on my enormous noggin.

I am so often (constantly really) obsessing over something.

Sometimes I just can't shut my brain up. It is like a perpetual strain of perpetually inconsequential thoughts. We are never really happy with ourselves. And not in a "never stop bettering yourself" way. It seems like it is more often than not in a, "how about I constantly beat myself up about my self destructive behaviors" way. I recently started following a blog where she talks about how whenever she starts to mentally berate herself she plays a game called "I bet Taylor Swift never..." Where she lists all the things she does that Taylor probably never does. Which is ridiculous but also very funny. Because I started to do it too. And really, if I am going to obsess over everything, I might as well have a go at laughing about it.

Today I obsessed over the following things:

How everything I say lately is categorically unfunny.

How many things I do not do because I am too busy playing "draw something".

How many people have inadvertently heard me say bad things about them because the phone hadn't quite hung up (I have had a quite horrific experience with that...)

Which reminds me of that story. So once upon a time in a far away land at the offices of a most beloved employer my most beloved supervisor (ish) (ish as in she was 'ish' my supervisor not 'ish' beloved) was leaving the company and wanted me to go to her new company with her. Now if you have never had an I am in love with/I hate my escrow officer relationship you might not understand why I wanted to leave a great company to follow my coworker to the unknown. Half of it was because she used to call and leave voicemails of just her howling and once left a voicemail greeting when she went on vacation that said "if you need immediate assistance please contact my partner Sara". Which, uh, I am sorry but I am not her "partner" and we laughed so hard at the messages that ensued that I almost peed myself.The other half was that she taught me everything I know and we got shit done when we were a team.

So yea, I was going to follow her. I had an interview at the other company and totally nailed the job. (No that is NOT what she said). I wanted to share the news and my lovely friend was still at the office and I called her to tell her the good news. Only she didn't answer her cell so I called the front desk to have them transfer me to her office line and the mainline voicemail kicked in. Meanwhile she called me on her cell phone and I somehow managed to conference in the front desk voicemail and it recorded the entire conversation.

The next day I got called to the Principal's (eer...president) office and he sat me down and proceeded to tell me that somehow the conversation had been recorded and it was brought to his attention that I would be leaving the company. It was all very awkward. 

In the end I didn't leave. And I wasn't fired. Which has put me in a situation for which I am very grateful but the whole thing has made me very paranoid about the call status of any phone conversation where important and/or catty information is exchanged.

These are the kind of things that seem to always happen to me.

I bet Taylor Swift never got caught in a technology crossfire where her conversation containing Charlie Sheeny goodness was recorded for the world to hear.

I love that game...CROSSFIRE.

Okay, I really have to be done now.

Sara