Tales: sneakers, bruises & fake fetuses

Sorry to my two and a half readers, whoever ye may be, for not writing for a looong time. If time were measured with animals, then I wouldn't have written for about an elephant and two ducks. This is due to the fact that I've been busy and uninspired. Mostly uninspired.

But just now I was lying in bed, composing bits of blog post in my head, so I knew: It. Is. Time!!

Typically, however, I just forgot what I was going to write. That is what happens when you bother to type up an introduction to a post. Your brain goes fuzzy.

I chopped of my hair (actually, I paid a lady to do it for me because I don't own one of those little head-mower machines that go bzzzzzt!!). I almost regretted it after because people KEPT ON ASKING "Why did you cut your hair?? Oggle." I eventually got so bored with the question that I would go, "My hair? I didn't cut my...? Oh my GOD! It's GONE!!!!"

Today I went to get an ultrasound because of that Europe Project thing at school that I wrote a little post about a while back (but I'm too lazy to link to it. Wow). So I was lying on a bed in a clinic, wearing one of those little robe things that don't close properly at the back (but it's okay, because I got to keep my pants on, whew) an the doctor came in, said hi, and sat down at a computer-like thing an typed a bit. Then he smiled and was all,

"So! How long have you been pregnant?" Big doctor smile.

I thought he was joking, so I went, "Heh. Yeah."

"...how long?"

Then I realized he actually meant it, and I remembered that earlier my mom had told me about a guy she worked for once that could tell the age and sex of a deer just by looking at it. And I thought, eek! what if this guy is like that, except with pregnant people instead of deer?

Then I realized I was being stupid, and the reason he thought I was pregnant was because the ultrasound is supposed to be for lovely ladies who actually are harvesting a baby, letting it live off of them and suck out their daily energy. The reason I had to take it is because the teachers of the Europe Project apparently don't trust us and insist we have an ultrasound to prove that there aren't any stray fetuses floating around where they shouldn't.

Hmph.

So anyway, he was all surprised and said that the receptionist told him I was pregnant.

Stupid receptionist ¬¬

Well, no, not stupid. Just... grr.

On the bright side, however, I am happy to announce to the world that true love has entered my life <3 in the form of a new pair of sneakers. Bought them today at Costco, and will update this post later with a picture of them (how could I not? I love them!).

Seriously. If they were people I'd seduce them, marry them and then love them to the point where they were old, battered and stinky. Then I would file for divorce and repeat with a new pair. This is a sustainable cycle, because the money you get from the divorce serves the purpouse of luring in a new pair.

I think I may be a bit tired. I shall go to sleep after I narrate to you, o lucky reader, one last tale.

It occurred, as did the last two, today. I have to get some tests done for the Europe Project (amongst them the no-fetuses proof), including some blood tests to see if I have rabies or something. I don't really know.

That doesn't matter, though, because when they took my blood, it left a huuuuuge purple-red bruise. For now all I have is a crappy webcam photo, because it's night and the lighting sucks. But! tomorrow I will take a photo not only of the beautiful, rubbery new love(s) of my life, but also of my spanking awesome bruise so you can all get excited or grossed out or whatever it is you funny little chums do. Check it:

Webcam-quality strikes once again!

The nurse said the reason I have such an epic bruise is because I have "sensitive veins". How sweet is THAT? It's confirmed: my insides are made of awesome.

UPDATE:

Shmexy photos of my bruise & sneakers up ahead. mm, sneakers.