My Random Blog

I am getting a serious case of cabin fever here. I haven’t left the house (except to visit the dentist) since SUNDAY. I’m WAY too social of a person to be locked inside for nearly a week. I miss my friends, I miss beer and, sadly, I miss work.

So what have I been doing? Being a big, fat nerd online and actually logging into MySpace. THAT’S how desperate I have become for any kind of social interaction. Lame.

I got tagged for a meme by The Goth Mom where I’m to collect 3 things about myself from someone close to me and blog about them. I’ve asked BFF to give me some feedback, but so far she hasn’t come up with anything usable. I’ll continue to ride her ass on that. Just wanted to warn y’all that there’s a meme in this blog’s future. (Dear BFF: Any fucking day now. Love, Corrina.)

Until then, I have decided to inflict upon you another MySpace survey. Because can you really get enough ridiculous information about me? I thought not.

First off, what’s your name?
Co-ree-nuh.

How old?
147 this October.

Where from?
California.

Who’s the lucky someone?
I don’t know who he is yet, but I’m taking applications.

Who’s the bff?
I call her Bub.

Who’s the hero?
Jesus is my hero. I know you’re shocked- it’s cool.

What’s the eye color?
Dark brown. People sometimes think they’re black.

What’s the hair color?
Same as my eyes, but with hair.

How many times have you been in love?
Truly, madly, deeply? Twice.

Do you plan on having sex before marriage?
Uh, no. Oh wait…

Do you drink?
Like Britney Spears baby.

Do you smoke?
Smoke what? People on the freeway? Yes. Crack? No.

Would you call yourself confident?
More often than not.

Have you ever given into peer pressure?
I used to. I’m the big peer now.

What is the vacation you’re most looking forward to?
The beach. I need ocean.

Watermelon or Cantaloupe?
Watermelon.

Mango or Peaches?
Peaches, but only when they’re hard. I don’t like squishy fruit.

Raspberries or Strawberries?
Strawberries.

Peppers or Tomatoes?
Peppers. I LOVE spicy food.

In middle school were you the “popular one”?
No. I was the “unibrow” one.

What is your future dream job?
Anything nerdy.

Have you taken any steps to achieve that yet?
Did Marvin write this?

What exact time and date were you born at?
Oh the grammar is killing me. 2:05 p.m., Tuesday, Oct. 9th, 300 BC.

Name one comedy show we’d find you laughing at:
Last Comic Standing.

What other shows do you watch with some of the same actors?
Uh, what?

What is your favorite thing to eat with a cup of coffee?
BACON!!

What is the thing we’d find you ordering at Starbucks?
Anything vanilla flavored.

What brand does your wardrobe mostly consist of?
Abercrombie. I’m SO not kidding.

Do you have all your teeth?
LOL- Not anymore. I’m down one.

How about braces or a retainer?
Neither. Thanks mom for your good teeth genes.

How is your eyesight?
Shitty. Without contacts I couldn’t see past my eyelashes.

Any glasses or contacts?
Both. I only wear the glasses at home. Or when I’m trying to repel men.

How many birth marks?
Two, that I can see.

What was the last song you listened to?
Beethoven - Moonlight Sonata - when I fell asleep last night.

What was the last show you watched?
Deadliest Catch.

Who was the last person you talked to?
My mom.

Who was the last person you had a phone conversation with?
Sly.

What was the last thing you ate?
A Dove Bar. Thank God I have a treadmill.

What was the last thing you drank?
Water. I drink it constantly.

When was your last shower?
It’s not that time of the year yet.

When was the last time you stopped to exercise?
Yesterday afternoon.

After this, what will you be doing?
Probably playing with my phone.

Peace and a life.

Note: This is NOT an “ad” post. I’m no one’s sales bitch and I don’t post ANYTHING that doesn’t come directly from ME.

I hate checking my voice mail. It’s time consuming and I don’t like to have to listen to the bullshit messages before getting to the ones I want and/or need to hear. When I had my iPhone I LOVED the visual voice mail. I, personally, think that ALL cell phones should have that feature. It’s priceless. But, alas, they don’t.

Today I discovered this neat-o service called YouMail that takes the ass pain out of voice mail retrieval. And it’s NOT just for BlackBerrys. it works with a shitload of other phones and pretty much every carrier. Basically, if you have voice mail attached to your cell, you can probably use it. Best part of all: It’s FREE. I love free stuff and I figured y’all would too.

The whole set-up process took me about 5 minutes, if that. Setting up my preferences took me about another 5. I could sit here and list all the nifty features of YouMail, but that’s why they have a Web site. I will tell you, however, that I now have visual voice mail, and have also opted to get text transcripts of them- which is pretty cool. It’s also funny when they don’t get it transcribed exactly right- but they also email me an MP3 of the message, so I can hear it if I need to. They also give me detailed caller ID info on my voice mail leavers. (Even the ones who hang up.) I should note that if you don’t have email on your phone, getting your messages emailed to you might not be as fabulous as it is for those of us that do.

Finally, since I also hate it when people block their numbers before calling me, I’m using the “DitchMail” option on those assholes. They get a greeting that tells them I don’t accept blocked calls, to unblock their numbers and try again- then hangs up on them. If you don’t want me to know who you are, then you shouldn’t be calling me. Anonymous calling is for tweens, telemarketers and pussies. Put your big girl panties on and call me back.

Peace and nifty, free shit.

EDIT (July 11th, 7:53 p.m.): I have been having some issues with YouMail that I thought I’d share. This afternoon Hot Future Doctor called me about 3 p.m. I didn’t get notified until after SEVEN P.M. And when I did get notified, it was in a text. No email, with attached voice mail, the way I set it up. I even went back and re-checked my settings. THEN I attempted to forward his voice mail to my email and it didn’t forward. It’s been half an hour now. I also attempted to forward it to my SECOND email address… So far nothing there either.

I have sent a message to YouMail detailing my snags and expressing my unhappiness. I understand this is a free service, but that kind of delay time between voice mails and notifications is not acceptable. I’ve decided to give it 24 more hours and if they don’t fix this shit- I’m getting rid of it.

I’m home from the dentist and am happy to report that all went very well. My cracked tooth was a little more damaged than previously thought, so it had to go. And I am SOOOO glad. I’m not thrilled about the gaping hole in my mouth but it’ll heal with time. Thankfully it’s way in the back so you can’t see it unless I open wide and stick my mouth in your face. Which I don’t think I’ll be doing, as sexy as that sounds.

Since I’ve never had a tooth pulled out before, I was pretty nervous. Therefore the nice dental assistant gave me Valium. I’ve never taken Valium before, but I am impressed with it’s ability to chill me out completely. The procedure itself was painless. I didn’t even really feel the numbing shots, which was what I had been dreading most. Yanking out the tooth took some effort, but other than pressure- and the dentist’s foot on my chest- I didn’t feel pain at all.

(Kidding about the foot.)

So far my face is still made of rubber. (I’m half-tempted to just start piercing the whole right side of my face just because I wouldn’t feel it.) The second I regain feeling, I’m prepared with my NEW prescription of Vicodin to handle any pain that might attack me. I also have the next two days off and I plan to use them sleeping.

I’m tired and a bit woozy and think I’ll take a nap now.

Peace and dentists who rock hard with good drugs.

Just so ya know- I’m pretty stoned right now. So if this is riddled with spelling errors, or if I don’t make any sense, my apologies. I will try to proof read before I publish.

Turns out I’ve been blessed with a double tooth whammy: A wisdom tooth has decided to rear it’s ugly head and, in the process, crowd my other teeth- one of which is cracked. You can imagine the amount of joy and happiness this is causing the inside of my head. I don’t remember there ever being a time when I wanted to smash in my own face with a hammer. Until now.

Thankfully this will all be resolved tomorrow. Until then, I have been given Vicodin. Which I now like to refer to as “Fuck Yes!” in pill form.

The biggest bummer (besides wanting to blow my own head off) of this whole thing is that tonight is my girl Sly’s LAST night of bartending competition and I can’t go!! I felt horrible, when she called, telling her that I can’t make it. Although when I told her why she totally understood. I will be there with her in spirit. Right now it certainly feels like I can fly over there.

Well, Fashion Paramedic is giving me weird advice about what to do with my cracked tooth, so I’m gonna go try her ideas and see what happens. She said something about tea-bagging that made me laugh- but she meant real tea bags. Did I mention I’m stoned?

Peace and prescription drugs.

Due to excruciating tooth pain, and the absolute and total misery it is causing my entire being- I will not be around until I get this taken care of. Which will hopefully be very, very soon.

I hope everyone (who celebrates today) has a fabulous holiday, and doesn’t blow anything up or set anything on fire. And by “anything”, I mean “yourselves”.

I’m sure y’all are expecting me to be out tonight, raising hell and drinking my body weight in beer. But not tonight. Cops will be all OVER the place and I don’t need that stress. I also don’t need the hangover (tomorrow) that going out tonight would provide me. My Saturdays are long and painful at work and that’s without a head full woodpeckers, neausea and cotton mouth.

So while everyone else is drinking beer and eating various BBQ’d meats, I’m going to spend THIS 4th with my mama. Safe, sound and hydrated.

Peace and safety first.

I would like to take a moment to thank my bloggy friends for your support in my time of emotional retardation. I would like to let y’all know that I am in much better shape today. Minus the hangover.

Thanks to a little one-on-one “conversation” with someone who’s naturally gifted at helping people in need (you know who you are)- I have managed to put everything in perspective and I’m ready for the next phase… whatever that may be.

I mentioned in a Twitter that I got pulled over last night, with one of my best girls in the car with me. We were headed over to Fave Watering Hole when lights went a-flashin’ behind me. Knowing my registration was waaaayyyyy overdue, I was worried that my car would be towed away. ‘Cause that’s what they do here when you’re as late as I am.

Mr. Officer comes to my window and tells me what I already know. I apologized and told him I was aware of the problem and would be fixing it A.S.A.P. He seemed pretty cool about the whole thing and then asked who my friend was. She told him and he went back to his car to look her up.

Turns out my passenger had let a couple of traffic incidents slide and had 2 warrants out on her. That’s when I peed myself. I started immediately imagining my car being towed away, my friend being taken to jail and me left sitting on the curb wondering why the fuck I didn’t stay home, and where I was going to get the $2,000 to get my car out of police impound. So while Mr. Officer was at his car doing whatever it is that cops do, her and I were holding hands, so tightly that I think we each broke a finger, and praying to the gods of irresponsibility that we’d somehow get out of this without handcuffs and a tow truck.

The gods of irresponsibility heard our prayers, because we both got off with tickets. Turns out Mr. Officer was a very nice guy and was in a very lenient mood. He was even joking around with us and being quite charming. So charming, in fact, that he gave me his card and I left him a thank you voice mail later on.

A girl at work asked me to go out with her tonight and have a beer. After I laughed hysterically, I declined. Not only does my hangover prevent me from wanting to be within 10 feet of an alcoholic beverage, I don’t think I should be driving with an expired registration any more than I absolutely have to. I DO have to get to work- but that’s it. I have 60 days to rectify the situation and I shall.

Peace and nice cops that like brunettes.