I would do anything for love....but I won't do a lot

Saturday I hung out with some college friends. We ate Mexican food, reminisced, and remembered the fact that Lisa and I are the most opposite people on planet Earth. At one point at the beginning of our friendship Lisa and I were discussing our dating preferences and she mentioned that she would love to go irrigating on a date, a notion that I neither understood nor agreed with, but definitely exploited. I just may have called the campus forum (a small portion of the KSU newspaper that printed students meaningless banter…I called about once a day.)later that night and mentioned that my roommate wanted to go irrigating on a date if there were any takers….a comment which I can only imagine made the day of many a male ag student/former western Kansas resident. Maybe it is just me but if there are any tools involved I am not calling it a date, I am calling it manual labor. I think I am instituting a new dealbreaker. Making me do manual labor and trying to pass it off as a date definitely qualifies. Coffee. Coffee is what I like on a date. Simple, and there’s no chance of finding myself waist deep in mud with a shovel. Although I am fairly sure if Lisa got asked to go to coffee and a got picked up on a motorcycle she would have to be scraped off the ground because laughter would undoubtedly overtake her body. And that is before she knows about the tattoos and brief prison stint. But we are good reminders for each other. She reminds me that not everything is as fun as dating men who are bound to leave me in therapy, and I remind her that sanity is something to be valued.

Just a quick convo to laugh at:
“Oh look it is a mariachi band!”

“Hmmm…”

“Oh that’s the Haricrishnas”

Apparently Curtness Runs in the family

"You dating anyone tiff?” (uncle larry)
“No…if I was you’d probably know about it.” (me)
“Well I’ve got someone I think you may like.”
“Alright. Tell me about him.”
“He’s a youth pastor.”
“Okay. Anything else.”
“He’s an excellent bow hunter.”
(Lots of Laughing) “Not a chance.”
“Your standards are too high. You’re never going to meet anyone.”
“If being with a guy who wants to go shoot animals all the time is my alternative to being single, I will pick single. He'll want me to eat deer meat, and that's so not going to happen.”
Grandma from the other side of the room “I think you should become a nun. I was watching a show yesterday. You know what they do. Get up. Pray. Eat. Take a nap. Pray. Do a little work. Pray. Eat. And then they go back to bed. I’d do that if I did it all over again.”
“you wouldn’t have any of us though.”
“Yep.”

Investigators searching for missing remains of REALITY!

I am very thankful that I have a lot of friends who are entering the medical field on one level or another. Here is my reasoning. I had an allergic reaction while on vacation in LA. Why do I tell you this? Because it has been quite the ordeal. I went home on Friday and my parents told me I had to see a doctor (something I really hate doing) because my face looked like it had been beaten with a bat and it was their greatest fear that they were going to loose their already abnormally large headed child to the dark side of elephantitis.
I went to the doctor. I had a bitchin case of hives. Where they came from still remains a mystery.
None of this was the amusing part. The best part of it all was calling a dermatologist and hearing what they suggested I do to help alleviate the symptoms. 1.Avoid sweating…apparently they had relocated their offices to the dark side of the moon where all the black lights and felt led zeppelin posters clouded their judgment and made them forget that IT IS 100 DEGREES OUTSIDE!!! I would like instruction on how one would avoid sweating in that kind of weather 2. Avoid the sun…Again this is going to have to come with Cliff’s Notes. This is Kansas. It is summer. Unless there is a panic room someone plans on locking me in the sun is probably going to come in some form of contact with me.3. Stop eating foods you could be allergic to…Right because normally I would say “Hey a tomato. I am allergic to you but right now I want you, so I don’t care that my throat could close up and cause asphyxiation. Yum.” I think I do that already but thanks for that nugget of wisdom. All in all I would say they barely came shy of telling me to avoid breathing and human interaction that requires face to face contact. While I am at it I should probably avoid sitting, standing, walking, and sleeping it might aggravate the hives. This is why I am glad I have friends who will one day be doctors. They aren’t going to tell me to avoid the sun or sweating in the middle of summer. One, they will know that is nearly impossible.Two, and more importantly, they would have every expectation that those suggestions would be met with my flailing arms of judgment and mockery hurling their ugly fists in their direction. I am such a good friend.

**UPDATE**Today a doctor told me to eat sour candy to help my swollen glands...it freaking worked. Apparently not all crazy advice is that crazy.

The Art of Persuasion

Sometimes in life we are given glimpses at why we are at the places we are. I just returned from LA where I was helping with art direction on a couple of short films. One of the shoots involved a child actor who among his many small annoyances was pissed at Daniel Craig because he thought he would have been a much more suitable choice for the new James Bond....despite his 6 year old appearance and stature. After a long day of shooting in an un-air-conditioned house (which I will say was warm, but compared to Kansas it was really not bad at all) the kid decides to unzip his pants and announce "I think I have heat rash!" as he began to check for it. (He in no way had a heat rash.) This was after he described a scene in James Bond where Halle Berry is wearing a bikini and is very cold, and repeatedly attempted to punch every male there in the groin. It was at these moments I realized someday it is likely I will have kids of my own. Eventually those kids will get to be a hormonal 13 or 14 and telling them sex needs to wait for marriage will sound similar to telling them that once upon a time mommy was a super hero that fought evil using only a spatula and her wit. Instead of watching their eyes continually roll I will simply state my case and promptly schedule a day of fun with a child actor for my kid because I can tell you with complete confidence that it would be a far better birth control than anything that I could tell them.