Tag Archives: Another Visit From the F-d Up Fairy

That Time I Passed Out in the Airplane Lavatory

If you were me, this is how your last flight would have gone….

3:30 AM: Wake up.

3:31 AM: Snooze.

3:40 AM: Curse yourself for choosing a 7 AM flight.

4:30 AM: Pat yourself on the back for not forgetting anything.

5:30 AM: Arrive at airport. Realize you forgot your pillow for the 5+ hour flight.

6:30 AM: Meet up with other coworkers. One gives you flavored vodka.


My coworker thinks I’m an alcoholic….

7:00 AM: Plane takes off. Fall asleep.

7:45 AM: Wake up feeling nauseous despite the dramamine.

7:46 AM: Try to wait it out.

7:47 AM: Contemplate if it’s better to puke in the bag or climb over 2 people to go to the bathroom.

7:48 AM: Envision enough puke to overflow the bag and decide on the bathroom.

7:49 AM: Faint in bathroom.

The bathroom I was in was approximately 1/100th of this size.

The bathroom I was in was approximately 1/100th of this size.

?:??: Wake up on bathroom floor and wonder how long you were out.

?:??: Check yourself for puke. There is none.

?:??: Wait to see if you’re going to puke.

?:??: Embarrassed that people will think you fell in (or are going #2), return to your seat.

7:55 AM: Tell your coworker you fainted. Remember the flavored vodka he gave you.

7:57: AM: Curse your doctor for prescribing an antibiotic you can’t drink with.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Whaaaattt? Never eat pie? Is this even Thoughtsy? No. Can’t be. It’s definitely a pod person!”—And Today Folks

The Trifecta: Fat, Old, and Small Boobs

This story I’m about to tell all happened within 30 minutes. I shit crap you not. Look. I cussed. You know it’s real.

Recently, I stopped by my old job to visit Matchmaker Coworker. Someone else was there that I hadn’t seen in awhile.

Forever-Single Old Guy: You look…different.

Co-Worker: It’s her eyelashes. She looks cute.

Me: Do I look old? I’m almost 32.

Forever-Single Old Guy: I think you’ve put on a few pounds.

Me: ::mouth drops open::

Forever-Single Old Guy: You filled out. It’s good. You look more…mature.

Me: So I’m fat…and old. Fantastic.

I’ve put on 3 pounds since I worked there. Three pounds. Obviously, it’s 3 pounds of muscle. Grrrr….

After this exchange, I decided to hide in my cubicle for the rest of the day. But back in my new building, I found a bake sale in the lobby.

Unsuspecting-Victim-of-Poor-Timing: Would you like to buy something from our fundraiser?

Me: No, thank you.

Unsuspecting-Victim-of-Poor-Timing: We have healthy stuff, too: fruit, granola bars…water.

Me: Seriously?

Back at my desk, I showed Ddot the t-shirts Matchmaker Coworker and I were wearing for a special event.

We mispelled "Ddot."

We mispelled “Ddot.”

Ddot: So these are Matchmaker’s boobs?

Me: No…. They’re mine.

Ddot: They look….

Me: Too big to be mine. I know. It’s the font.

Ddot: No, the hair…looks like….

Me: Just let it go….

Who knew all of that was possible before 10 AM? That, my friends, is why I blog.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I say go with every opportunity. Best case you meet the man of your dreams. Worst case you get a blog post. Ok, almost every opportunity. I just got a random flash of slasher movie still shots.”—Skipping Stones

Someone Get This Kick-Me Sign Off My Back

Soooooo…someone asked me out.

Guy: Since you’re single now, I hope you’ll let me take you out sometime.

Unfortunately for him, I overanalyze everything. So I was 99% sure “take you out” was code for “sleep with you.”

Guy: I know it’s probably too soon, and I don’t want to be your rebound, but I’m afraid that if I wait too long, some guy will scoop you up before I get a chance.

As it turns out, he’s just a nice guy, and my overanalyzation was unneeded.

But then he waved a red flag. Metaphorically.

Dangled it right in front of my nose. Metaphorically.

Guy: It takes me a few dates to see someone exclusively. I just have trouble committing to someone at first.

That’s when I started looking for the sign on my back that said, “If you have commitment issues, come see me.”

W. T. F. 

Guy: But after a few dates, I get past that initial hump.

Instead of overanalyzing the word “hump,” I decided to be optimistic. And I’m glad he did because he’s a Southern Gentleman.

Then he swapped out the red flag for a carrot cupcake. Metaphorically.

Guy: I think couples know within a year if they want to spend the rest of their lives together.

A year? Seriously? Thank you for restoring my faith. Or that’s just what guys say when they want to get in your pants.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “It’s a sad state of affairs when carnival women have the same unsavory habits as Mike Tyson.”—El Guapola

I Do Whatever the Chocolate Tells Me

Tuesday and Wednesday work was hot. And when I got home after work…my apartment’s AC was broken. Of course. Welcome to my life.

The heat sent me into an extreme sloth-like state. Because it was too hot to make my own decisions, I decided to put the responsibility on someone else.

Remember when the Dove chocolate gave me a sign? Well…I’ve decided to let chocolate dictate my life.

That’s right: a dessert dictator. It was that or the Magic 8 Ball.

I’m saving all the wrappers from my Dove chocolate, and I’m doing what the chocolate tells me to do.

This is the first wrapper:

Do what feels right.

Do what feels right. Obviously, it felt right to eat the lower left corner of the wrapper.

What feels right is…to have another piece of chocolate.

The next wrapper said:

Indulge your every whim.

Indulge your every whim.

This confirmed that the second piece was ok.

I think I’m going to like this challenge.

Have a great weekend! I’ll be in Pittsburgh, so let me know what to check out while I’m there.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Be careful, Thoughtsy. One minute you’re posting a pic of your hot, sweaty thighs, the next you’re addicted to sexting. Slippery slope….”—BluzDude