Whore-o-scope

As an informed, intelligent young woman, I often start my day out by reading the paper. Keeping up on current events is imporant, you know. But I'm going to let you in on a little secret. The entire time I'm scanning the latest headlines, all I'm thinking about is how many more sections I have to read before I get to the horoscopes. So my eyes may be reading "Robbery on South 6th Early Tuesday Morning" but my brain is wondering what gem of a prediction is waiting for me just six pages away.

My favorite place to read my horoscope is in the local paper, the Tucson Weekly. Most of the times they're pretty good. I should say that most of me just reads my horoscope for fun. I need something amusing me every second of every day or I'll collapse of boredom. True story. But there's a teensy, tiny, itty bitty little part of me that is just looking for some guidance. That itsy bitsy part of me reads the horoscope and thinks, "Wow, this free, weekly, liberal paper really gets me. This must be the Universe's way of telling me to get my shit together." Well, that little part of me that was so optimistic and believing just shrunk a little bit today.

Per the Tucson Weekly:

Cancer (June 21- July 22)
Dolphins love erotic play, according to the book "Dolphin Chronicles". For almost a third of their waking life, they caress and touch each other. They're ingenious about using their Frisbees, plastic boats and rubber balls as sex toys. Gender isn't much of an issue. There's as much same-sex as opposite-sex cavorting. If you'd like to place yourself in alignment with cosmic rhythms, Cancerian, you will consider taking a page from the dolphin "Kama Sutra" in the coming days. Remember, the key for them is simply to play freely without any specific goal. Bliss comes as much from experimenting with creative intimacy as from diving toward orgasm.

Uh huh, great. So does this mean I need to take a trip to Sea World? Should I buy a plastic boat and see what "adventures" I can set sail with? Or is this horoscope telling me it's time to just straight up get freaky with anything that moves? Cause I'm not going to lie, it'd be really cool to have a plastic boat. Not for canoodling purposes, but just to show off. I think that's what I'm choosing to take out of this week's horoscope. Dolphins around the world are humping and rubbing and I'm in Arizona playing with my plastic boat. Awesome.

I Hate Cute

I have something to admit that I feel like my gender frowns upon: I dislike cute animals. Well, maybe dislike is too strong of a word. I don't fawn over cats dancing or puppies wedged into small spaces. That dramatic chipmunk thing just freaked me out. When introduced to the Cute Overload site, it suddenly became the new bane of my existance. (Also I'm too lazy to insert the link so you're going to have to look it up yourself. It's way too much cute in one place, which has the opposite effect and just makes me angry.)

But today as I was going through my gossip web site line up, I found the cutest mother effing video. Ever. I watched it twice and giggled throughout the entire thing.



You loved it.

Teach Me, Sensei

I'm by myself at work today and bored. It's quiet and my dance party music isn't all that great company this morning.

There's a janitor here that kind of flirts with me when he comes up to do his janitorial business. He's a nice enough guy, but it just makes me really uncomfortable. He used to bring me flowers of the hand picked from someone's garden variety. I didn't have the heart (read: I'm a giant, passive aggressive, heartless robot) to tell him to fuck off, so I made up some story about how I already had a boyfriend. I thought that would pretty much be the end of that. I assumed that the boy radar in his head would say, Bummer, she's already got a hunky, super fly if not completley made up man and look elsewhere. It's not even like it was a good lie on my part. He gave me some flowers and I was all, "Oh cool, my boyfriend, who I've been dating and who I am seeing exclusively and who is the only guy I'm ever going to be interested in ever and please leave now, gets me flowers like this all the time."

Sadly, my boyfriend lie kind of backfired. Now The Janitor asks me about him all the time. My fake boyfriend works in a store not related to my job, has dark hair and is named Jason. I'm like a black widow with all these lies I'm spinning. Here's the thing though: I CAN'T STOP. I could be like, "Hey, I don't have a boyfriend. I made that up so you would leave me alone," but who actually says things like that? This isn't a Saved by the Bell special.

Unfortunately, this exchange happened today:

The Janitor: How's your boyfriend today?
Me: Oh, he's just fine. Still working at the store with his hair (I may not have said this part out loud).
The Janitor: So when are you guys getting married?
Me: Not for a while.
The Janitor: But you will get married some day, right?
Me: Probably, just not anytime soon.
The Janitor:Oh good, because you wouldn't want to be alone all your life, like you were before your boyfriend, right?
Me: Uh...

I think I may have met my passive-aggressive match! I still have so much to learn about the subtle, seething art that is passive-aggression.

Also, Happy Halloween everyone! Costume Blue Barracuda is making it's debut tonight on the streets of Tucson. Pictures to follow. Have a fun time tonight. Or don't. Whatever. I don't care.