Tags: dan

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I'm back. But not for long or often. And I won't be on messenger. If anyone needs to talk to me, the phone is always there. You know, we're under Miller D&R. In the Telus phonebook. I hate my laptop. I'd sell it to someone, but that'd be cruel.
Not too much has happened in the last few days. Or however long it's been. I don't have a doctor's note to work shorter shifts. It turns out I need the physiotherapy to tone my quads. They're not strong enough. Although my doctor told me I'd make millions in modelling with my legs. Makes me wish I had the money to start. But I don't, so too bad for me, right?
I have to work tonight and tomorrow morning, surprised? I'm not.
On tuesday afternoon I planted the garden beside the house by the neighbours' door. I'm sunburned, bellyshirt and hiphugger style. Meaning, I have burns on my lower back, shoulders, back of my neck and forearms (to a lesser extent). The lower back one is by far the funniest burn I've ever gotten. My garden consists entirely of deep purple and screaming red flowers...and catnip. I'll take pictures of it! Dan planted onions, garlic, and chives in the other half. He also has basil, rosemary, thyme and two kinds of sage in planters. Mmmmmm, garlic.
Well, I guess I'm off to learn how to play Halo 2 so Dan will have something to brag about.
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A Day in the Life

Backtrack to about 6.30
So I was cleaning the bedroom today, the weightbench part. I was picking up Dan's various work hats and puting them back on the hook when one fell. To grab it, I reached fast, smashing my elboe off the resty thing for the bar causing me to curl my arm in pain and drop the handful of hangers I was holding. In midsentence, Dan yells out "What happened?! Robyn? Are you OK? What did you do??" I couldn't even talk, I had funny-boned myself so bad on this thing. So I kind of pointed (I hit my elbow off the stupid thing all the time anyway) and he says "you hurt yourself so often, I feel so bad" Awww. He insisted on dragging me to the kitchen for a ziplock bag of ice while I protested (not without tears) "don't, I'm fine. It'll be alright, I don't need ice" but he wouldn't let me get away with it and told me to go relax. I sat on the bed with my elbow propped on the ice because it couldn't stand the weight of holding up my arm. I took the ice off for a second and looked at it (I always do that: look at things) and noticed a blood spot and promptly yelled to Dan that I was bleeding and he came running to check it out. He put Polysporin on my cut, but I had to spread it because he wouldn't touch the blood, and put the bandaid on. I had sliced my elbow open. Not very much, but enough to bleed. I checked the weightbench after: the part where I always bang my elbow is slightly rounded, not sharp at all. At least, not to my fingers. Apparently the soft tissue hiding oh-so-important-and-debilitating elbow nerves cuts easily. It was really hard to make the bed predominantly left-handed and I kept flicking the sheets, making my elbow SEAR.
Forward to 9.30
Still sore, but I can type, which was impossible for the last few hours. I took the bandaid off to inspect. Turns out I have a cut, a rub (that spotty blood stuff under your skin), and a purple goosegg to highlight it all. *sigh*

I get all the breaks, I swear.
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We're looking in to going to Cuba for our birthdays this year. But it's really hard to find prices and things like that for it. Like, it can cost $630 US for a trip for one person...but they don't accept US down there and I'm not paying in it. *sigh* Any help is greatly appreciated.
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Stroke of luck?

Interesting story I have today. It happened yesterday.
Background information: there was a transport accident on the highway between Mcleod and Lyon's Creek, thing went through the guardrail and burst into flame. On the way to school I thought 'that better be cleaned up when I come back.' Then borrrrrrring 3 hours of computers.
Actual Story: I call my boyfriend when I get out of class 'monkey, I'm comin home now, throw a pizza in the oven so we can eat together when I get home.' then him: 'awwww, monkey, I miss you so much. See you in a bit. I love you.' 'ok I love you' So I'm all excited to get home and actually eat a meal with him for once. They were still cleaning up the transport truck (rebuilding the guardrail) so I had to get off the highway and go down Montrose toward home and attempted to get back on the highway at Netherby. Car was chugging and I had passed the gas station (my new fuel pump doesn't get to all the gasd in my tank. I used to be able to go below E) so I pulled over and poured some water in my coolant thing (the check engine light comes on when I'm below an eighth and that cures it). Get back on the highway and I can barely make it up to 100 km/h. I get almost to Bowen Rd exit and my car stalls, so I pull over and turn my hazards on. Car won't start. So I'm stuck at the bottom of a bridge near the entrance to an off-ramp...BAD. I waved down the next car that came by (very pretty blue) and inside is a guy with a long blond ponytail wearing a dirty white tshirt and black sweatpants (let me tell you now that he was commando...there was nothing holding him back). Luckily enough he had a cellphone and even pushed my car over the bridge with me sitting in it so that I wouldn't get slammed by oncoming traffic. He got one of his buddies to bring me some gas and it took a bit to get started (my car was parked on the grass on a slant and the gas wasn't getting to the pump) then he made me go to the nearest gas station (the truck stop on Gilmore for you Fort Erie people) and followed me there. I DIDN'T HAVE MY BANK CARD HOW EMBARRASSING! So he gave me a 20, pumped my gas and asked for a receipt. When I told him I wanted to pay him back he said 'I made $941 000 last year, do you think I'm going to miss that $20?' ok MILLIONAIRE. Then he told me to just help out the next person that needs it. And drove off.
I ended up behind him at the intersection and he parked his car and walked to my window (this is the good part) 'You said you were in an accounting program?' Yep, after he'd asked me about my books. 'When you graduate, contact me about a position. My website is internationalmustang.com' OK!
So, working for a millioinaire right out of college. Um, sounds good! So I drove home thinking about how lucky I was that I had run out of gas THEN and he was such a nice help[ful millionaire.
End of Story: Monkey is mad when I walk in the door cause the pizza got cold waiting for me (I had called him from the gas station). So I explained EVERYTHING (in greater detail) and he thinks it's good. Hmm, even if I don't like fords, I'd get a mustang if I had some sort of company discount!

And I'm hungry. All I've had today is yogurt.
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i woke up at noon

emilys cheese picture was fantastic. who would have thought with all that food around, the only person who looked like an idiot was you!
i have to work today. i got called in yesterday. so today is seven dau=ys in a row...but if they call me in tomorrow, ill go because i need the money. my overtime starts tonight at roughly...6.30 and i work until about 11.15 or 11.30. yay. somebody come by, i might have some donuts to give out (i AM baking tonight). i should tell them to pay me 8.70, like the other supervisors make. i do them WAY too many favours (i take midnights, ill work overtime, 8 or 10 days in a row, work shortstaffed/too many trainees) to get paid less than the other supervisors. god, first week back and im already stressed about work.
dan went to the strippers last night. *sarcastic thumbs up* so that means i slept roughly 6 hours
thats my story





"God's gift to ballroom notoriety"
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Men. (angry face with teeth)

I'm so sick of guys. 'mark, did u get my boyfriend high last night?' 'no, i got high, but he wasnt there' 'ok, thanks mark' 'boyfriend, who did u get high with?' 'mark, sean, and a girl and guy that came by' 'u are such a stoner. i hate you' his friend showed me a room in his parents house that he and his friends all get high in and SIGN THE WALLS. THAT IS SUCH A POTHEAD THING TO DO!!! i seriously hate this. i dont even know what to do. his excuse is 'its a part of who i am and u cant change that' and then i tell him that pouring foreign substances into his body isnt a part of anyone. it doesnt matter how much he tells me he loves me. if he cant stop when he sees how much it bothers me, then that is called dependance, not 'social smoking' or 'i drink to calm down'. if i was on a murderous rampage and it bothered him, i would stop (and i would SO love to go on a murderous rampage). if i had gotten so many tattoos that he was starting to be repulsed by me, i would stop. (actually hes repulsed by my one already and i promised i wouldnt get another). if i was raping innocent children...u get the point. he doesnt. men are airheads.
if i dont make it to forever with this one, im NEVER getting another one. i dont know why all guys feel like they have to drink and get high. it just makes them EVEN MORE ignorant and smelly. if ive had to change for him, why cant he change for me? and where do i find these guys? and how do i keep them away from me? ill have to find a deeply religious-not-hypocritical guy. too bad that wont happen. ever. but thats the way its looking to be.
my cat is sitting on a combo lock and a pair of scissors.
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what a couple of days

i cant typeroperly. i sliced my thumb open on a can of spongebob pasta, now i have three stitches and cant wor for a week. im gonna be poor. my right hand too, so now im practically an invalid...it feels like it ayway. 3 stitches, big deal, but ive never had them before. icried whe the needle went in, but watched the entire time, it was great.
but esterday i had a sort of psychotic episode. i went crazy, yellig at people that werent around and pacig the a,partement for and aour and a half. darn thius thumb. not like im using it but the fingers on my right hand arent used to hitting th bottom buttons on the keyboard. it hurts...im gonna go put polysporin and a bandaid on my idex finger (cut that too, but more of a scratch. doesnt ean it doesnt hurt)
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mmm, toast

Kind of irritated. Maybe more than a little. My boyfriend hasn't slept in the same bed as me the last three nights. Tuesday night he wasn't tired, so he went to watch tv and fell asleep on the couch. Wednesday night he was to busy on his computer...i can only theorize he watched tv till he fell asleep. Last night he had a friend over and was late picking me up from work (for the millionth time) and when I went home I was ultra tired, so i went to bed. He came in half an hour later to say he was going to his friend's house for a bit. He's not back yet. I'm quite angry, but I had peanut butter toast, a good boyfriend substitute.
In better/worse news, I paid my tuition on Tuesday. $2574.14 plus a $45 late fee. It emptied both my bank accounts and part of my boyfriend's. But the eight hours overtime I'm getting this week should more than help with paying for my books in two weeks (payweek next week). I still need a backpack. Maybe I'll pull a Sarah and use a grocery bag until I find one. That will go over wel, I'm sure.
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i think my boyfriend's singing to the kitten...turn the page by metallica. thats sick...thats just so sick OWOWOWOWOWOW i just got the sounds of bad download ( i guess layla WASNT a good idea)...i hate that, it hurts. ok, im alright. his fathers over now..i must go