Sunday, April 03, 2005

Metaphorical Herpes: A Lost Opportunity

I'm really upset with myself, and I blame it on using up all my wit on our quite successful April Fools issue.

You see, Friday was April Fools Day, and I had a gynecologist appointment. That doesn't sound like fun, and it isn't, but I could've made it fun. Too bad I didn't realize it at the moment.

I get there, and after weighing me and checking my blood pressure, they proceed to ask the typical list of questions. The weird thing: They ask if you've ever had a sexually transmitted disease before they even ask if you're sexually active.

Here's how my April Foolin' should've gone:
Nurse: "Do you have any sexually transmitted diseases?"
Me: "Oh yeah. Heavy on the STDs."
Nurse: "Are you sexually active?"
Me: "Funny you should ask that. I'm actually not sexually active in any way. It's an immaculate infection. No, really, I have metaphorical herpes. It's a bitch."

Then, after my exam when I'm fully dressed, the doc comes in to find me wearing a T-shirt reading "April Fools!"

Doctor: "Well, I was going to tell you I have some good news, but I guess you already know that."

One more lost opportunity. I'll have to do that next year.

Yesterday, while on my way to work, I stopped by the Hendersonville Starbucks to get supplies and ran into none other than Fred Thompson. Please don't be the umpteenth person to ask me who he is. I mean, really, you should know.

After work, I went to hear this band composed of many people from my high school. They're a rock 'n' roll cover band, and they were very good. Sidebar: The bar didn't have Malibu. They're all "We have Parrot Bay." Yeah, Parrot Bay is no Malibu, but I digress.

I actually got to spend some quality time with Adam last night. He stayed at my place last night, which is the first time that has happened in a while.

My dad, Mike, and my mom came this morning to help me move my furniture out of my apartment. Last night, before bed, Adam was all "Make sure there aren't any condom wrappers on the floor," to which I responded, "Yeah, I'm not stupid."

[Insert buzzer sound here] Wrong! I am stupid.

While I did remember to dispose of the condom wrappers, I left an empty box under my bed, so I'm fairly certain he saw it when he and Mike were disassembling the damn thing.

An empty box! I mean, I can't even pretend that someone gave them to me and I haven't used them. Mortified (yeah, and you thought that word was only used to teenage girls who write in to YM about a terrible date experience), I called my mom around 1 p.m. to ask if he'd said anything.

He hadn't, which I figured. I don't much expect my dad to ask me about my sex life.

After realizing what I'd done, I did what I usually do to blow off some steam: got out my tap shoes and danced until I almost passed out. And since I haven't been able to dance since September, my passing out point came much sooner than it used to. My tap dancing was also a little rusty. I mean, I didn't expect to be able to break into Riverdance, but I'll be glad when I get back into dance classes.

I then drove to the Sidlines office, passing some kind of motorcycle brigade in one of the parking lots.

All these men were driving around on motorcycles, except for this one dude who was on one that would've been a wee bit small for my 9-year-old cousin. Wow, I just realized my cousin is 9. I'm old.

Today's song is another Radiohead favorite. Kudos to Michael on the show last night. This song especially rocked. Naturally, it's "Creep."

When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fucking special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul
I want you to notice when I'm not around
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell I'm doing here?
I don't belong here

She's running out again
She's running out
She runs runs runs

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here

1 comment:

Manda said...

Wendy told me all sorts of wonderful things to say on this comment space; really glowing praise for... herself.

Unfortunately for Wendy, I didn't really catch a word of it - In one ear and out the other... Oh, well...

Still readin' yer blog, bitch...