Bitch…Gun!  So, while coming up with the name for this blog I asked my friend what she thought of the name “Squished Together” via text message.  There was no immediate reply and I thought about it for 10 minutes and then bought the domain.  I liked it, it made sense since I was going to be squishing two blogs together, and it was available.  I was ever so pleased with my choice.

Approximately 2 hours later I was in Kmart listening to an audio book (in all seriousness, shopping has become much less annoying when I do it while listening to an audio book. I don’t have to listen to store muzak, I don’t have to listen to other people, I just zone out and purchase what I need and leave.  Before you think I am too much of an ass please note I turn it off before I check out) and a text message came through to my phone.  “It makes me think of your boobs.”  huh?! what does? wait a second….SON OF A BITCH GUN!! She is talking about my blog name…squished together, damn it!!!!  She’s right.  It does.  *face-palm* 

So here I am, putting it on the record…that was not my intention when I came up with “Squished Together”; but if it makes you laugh–enjoy!

…and what have we learned? ah yes, Heather should *not* take vacations.  Well, correction–Heather can take time off; just don’t freaking go anywhere. 

Enough of the third person crap; so–I went on vacation and it was ever so…well, fucking horrible is the only way to describe it.  I went to Jamaica and while the destination wasn’t horrific (although it had its downsides–I shall share those later) it was more “let’s watch Heather’s world fall apart while she’s gone” (holy crap–why the third person? It’s like I can’t stop).  So, as you may have read I learned that I will be jobless soon.  Obviously this is not a great time to take a vacation but I pre-paid for it and would lose all the money…looking back, I should have just let the money go. 

The first, and most horrific thing that happened is that my beloved Freckles (90 lb mutt) died.  He was the dog who slept in bed next to me every night and while not a good dog; he was a very loved dog.  He had epilepsy.  His first seizure was about 4 months ago and they progressed.  The two nights before I left for vacation he had seizures and kept trying to wander out of the yard.  The morning I was to get on the plane I found him in a ditch.  He was barely responsive; we got him in the car and the housesitter said he was going straight to the vet who was opening early just for Freckles.  Everyone told me to go…I stupidly listened and handed my housesitter .  When we landed in Miami the vet told me he was responsive and they were trying a new medicine.  I was so relieved.  I shouldn’t have been.  Once we were in Jamaica I was assured that there was hope…2 days later I was told (literally) that he was a vegetable.  I told them to put him down.  My heart was broken but I knew I wouldn’t be able to fully grieve until I got home. 

After landing in Jamaica and being rushed through the airport by my fellow travelers (please keep in mind I had not slept for 2 days) I lost $200 and my leather wallet. 

…..to be continued.

Today I found out the hot guy at work was born in 1986…do you know how incredibly wrong and messed up it is that he is that good looking and was basically born whilst I was rocking fluorescent colors and those polyester parachute track suits…it just ain’t right. 

In other news, I have me an admirer.  While this is causing my eyebrows to rise just thinking about it—I have spent some seriously contemplative time on this.  Current Admirer is Work Water Guy (WWG).  WWG is a very nice guy who seems to think I am dreamy.  Needless to say, this is confusing the crap out of me.  The more you try to convince someone that you are not actually as nice as you appear the more they don’t believe you.  The more you try to convince someone who has a crush on you that you are kind of freaky, a bit broken, incredibly needy, and while strong and great in an emergency—I tend to stress a lot during calm and steady times – the less they believe you and the greater they think you are.  Yes, this sounds like a great strategy IF I were in any way capable of strategery in regard to ‘gettin’ a maaan’.   I have successfully scared off a number of perfectly available and hot guys by asking them if we could pretty please have sex.  The blunt approach is no-one’s friend and if you have the ability to play coy I recommend highly you do so (I tried it once for about an hour and it was way harder than I thought).  Anywhoodle, I have not scared off WWG (yet) and was actually scared off myself (because hello! People don’t chase me; *I* chase them! Duh.) until I saw his calves the other day.  Holy shizballs…he has some very nice legs.  So now we shall continue the dance of texting and chatting.  Except later, guess what I heard?  Hmmm? Yeah.  I heard he is a bum looking for a woman to take care of him.  Well, holy crap.  I’m good.  Had that; looking for something different.

And thus I remain happily single.  🙂

I was feeling smart almost as if I ‘knew stuff’.  I just attempted 2 different online sample tests for the Certified Industrial Hygiene exam and now all I have is a lot of acid trying to eat its way through my esophagus. Well, poop.  Now I feel special in that not so special way as well as having a headache.  I may be too smart(ass) for my own life but too slow for my chosen career path.  ~sad face~

In other news I leave on Friday for Jamaica.  Yeah, that’s right bitches–I’m going on a vacation!!  My first real adult vacation where I am going to a completely DIFFERENT tropical island than the one I live on.   The timing of this vacation could be said to be a wee bit….well, bad.  You know, what with the refinery closing and this being a very dangerous time with the draining of the units and my people working out in them.  But NO.  dang it.  NO.  They are not offering to pay my vacation off to get me to stay and this vacation was paid for before I even began working at this company.  If I go I will be losing quite a bit of $; so…no.  I am going.  My cell phone has been “upgraded” to international by said company so I can be bothered by calls every single day…that will be restful. ~grump~ 

The mood of this place is weird.  If I had $5 for every time someone asked me my plans I would probably have enough money for a second trip to Jamaica.  Over 90% of the people I have spoken with are planning to move back to the contiguous states.  I don’t know why, but the thought of moving back to the states makes my brain go clunk.  I’m not discounting anything, but whoooo-boy do I hate moving.

Alright, I am off to find more tums before an alien bursts out of my chest.