It's all about the Yamslam.

I'm sitting here with a huge grin on my face.

OkCupid, you have redeemed yourself. Seriously. I'm happy to know that not all the guys on there are creepers. Matter of fact, I met one who has thus far been pretty damn awesome. (Referencing a previous post, he's the one who is slightly older, witty and smart)

Messaging was slow at first, but excellent conversation nonetheless. Then we began exchanging texts, and the conversations got exponentially more fantastic. It takes a lot to stimulate me on both an intellectual and humorous level, and this guy hits both of those in just the right way. We start talking on the phone. Like teenagers. It has been refreshing, fun and exciting. Topics range all over the map, and he gets serious bonus points for being a Nathan Fillion fan.

The best part of all of this? It hasn't felt awkward at all. The only phrase I can come up with to encompass the way it's felt is that everything has just flowed naturally. When you can talk to a stranger for 2 1/2 hours four nights in a row, you click.

The conversation of course progressed to the discussion of meeting in person. He stalked me and found my blog (Hi, Jason!), and was even sweet enough to give me his personal info so I could quell any worries by Googling him. He was worried that I would censor myself when writing about our date... Oh kittens, you know me well enough to know that isn't the case.

Fortunately the thought of censoring myself never needed to flit it's squicky fingers against my mind, because there is absolutely nothing I would not be willing to say to him about our date. We ended up sort of combining both of my other first dates into our date today, and blew them both right the fuck out of the water with our combined awesomeness. We met for coffee and breakfast, and that was relaxed and fun. Lots of silences staring into each other's eyes and smiling. Yeah, go get your barf buckets kittens; I'm waxing poetic and feeling the uterus taking firm control. Shut UP.

I'll rein the bitch in, but for tonight I'm enjoying it. Just go with it.

We walked around Canal Park and browsed the local shops, particularly the antique shops (which, hi? Sparkly old fashioned jewelry?)... Jason found the gasps of happiness I frequently made when seeing sparkly things very entertaining. I'm a girl, it's sparkly. And sparkly is one of my favorite colors. We did see the bottom half of a mannequin hanging from the ceiling by chains in one shop at the Dewitt-Seitz Marketplace (sort of a mini mall with local businesses), and he took a photo of it. Awesome.

We held hands. We browsed art galleries. We were followed everywhere by photos and paintings of scary and homicidal-looking clowns. Like Pennywise, eat-your-motherfucking-brain-scary clowns. It was damn funny. Lots of paused glances where we would look into each other's eyes and both totally chicken out about kissing each other.

We went to lunch and had some of the most delicious pizza I've ever had... Margherita base pizza with mozzarella, goat cheese, prosciutto and arugula. See also, eating arugula without pizza is not the best idea I've ever had. That shit burns. I felt like I had the vagina of a woman of ill repute replacing my mouth. The restaurant plays some of my favorite music, and pretty much every song that came on was a song I love. Baby It's Cold Outside, La Vie En Rose, Sway... I so wanted to get up and dance. La Vie En Rose makes you want to have someone's arms wrapped around you, moving to the rhythm of the music...

Luckily neither one of us minded the garlic breath from the pizza. :)

Yes, to answer your question, we are going to get together again. Yes, my insides feel like I have the thoughts of a giggly little 15 year old girl replacing my own. Yes, I'm squealing internally at the thought of spending more time with him. Yes, I'm aware that I am a huge pink beaver. No, I'm not ashamed of it.

This date? It was decidedly NOT bullshit.

Why I will never, ever meet Amy in a dark alley...

My co-worker Amy and I were talking today. She was telling me all about how Match.com worked for her and her boyfriend, they've been together five years, and so on and so forth.

Then she asks me what I would do if my parents set up a profile for me on Match.com. I inform her that my parents would never do that to me. She retorts that Diane Keaton did it to her daughter in some movie I can't remember the name of but Ashley you need to see it because you'd think it was really funny and I think it would be hilarious if your mom and dad did that to you.

I reassure her that they wouldn't. Mostly because they know I'd be pretty upset if they did. I'd maybe consider not talking to them. Or maybe not. Whatever.

She then informs me that she is going to set up a profile for me on Match.com to see if I get matched with anyone. I then tell her that there is no way I would be going on any date she set up for me...

"What makes you think you'd have the option?"

Well, I am in control of my own body and if I don't want to go on a blind date, I won't go, thankyouverymuch.

This is where I am apparently in the wrong...

Amy proceeds to tell me that she is going to duct tape my hands and mouth shut to get me to go on the date. This, however, does not satisfy her craving for torturing me. She is also, she says, going to push me out of a moving vehicle toward the restaurant.

This progresses between the three of us to this status:

Amy is going to chloroform me to get me to cooperate, and also to be able to duct tape my hands and gag me.

She is then going to push me out of a moving vehicle (something I think she'd make up a date just to be able to do).

I am going to lay on the sidewalk with a bloody face, but since my knees should be fine, the date should be able to un-tape my mouth and face-fuck my unconscious mouth.

The people I work with might just be as demented and twisted, if not sometimes more so, than I am. I'm pretty frightened. And if I wake up after being chloroformed, I firmly resolve to bite ANYTHING in my mouth when I come to. Hard. Guys on Match.com: consider yourselves forewarned. Don't say I didn't tell you so when you have to explain why the head of your penis is in my stomach to the ER doctors...

Hours like whoa.

So as I'm sure all of you kittens might have guessed by now, I've been working like crazy. I always appreciated the time Sam put in, but they say you can't really understand until you walk in another person's moccasins.

My very first day, our newest and most expensive machine broke. It shut down the busiest part of the lab. Then another machine broke the next day. Then another on Friday. By that point, all I could do was laugh to keep from crying. I logged 64 hours last week trying to play catch up, and the next day the store would open and pretty much wipe out all the progress I'd made. Fun, fun.

My district manager came to do some training this week, and with his help we finally got caught up... But I've pretty much been working like a madwoman. 69 hours this week.

Anyone who says I'm not working hard can kiss my lily white Wisconsinite ass.

Sadly, I think I must have gone crazy, because I'm still enjoying it. I've never been in a management position before, and I hope I'm doing it justice. I have a serious issue with letting people down, and I'm now in a spot where if I mess up it doesn't affect only me.

But on the same token, I'm thrilled because I'm doing something I can be proud of. I'm working hard and being rewarded and recognized for it. My parents are proud of me, and their approval is like a nice wine; delicious, and going straight to my head. :)

Today I'm going grocery shopping, hoping to make some homemade salsa... It sounds delicious.

Speaking of delicious, I made the most fantastic thing ever known to man last weekend... Chocolate Bacon cupcakes. Chocolate and bacon = massive win.

I know this is a short entry, but I'm just not sure what else to say... So, um, yeah.

Running interference, except not really.

So last night I went to a drag show at a local gay bar. Drag shows are pretty much full of win and awesome... No one judges you for singing along and dancing like a fucking retard on pixie sticks (both of which I love to do).

I met a few co-workers there and hung out with them all night. After a while it was just myself and another female co-worker standing and watching, shouting things into each other's ears over the beat of Lady Gaga and so on. She walked up to the bar to get another beer, and a kinda geeky looking guy comes up to me and this is the conversation that followed:

Guy: "Hey, I was just wondering. This is an awkward question, but you and your friend, is she your 'friend' and you're here 'together' or are you just friends?"

Me: "No, we're just friends, we're not together."

Guy: "Oh, ok. I was just wondering because I wanted to ask her if I could buy her a drink and I wasn't sure because this is a gay bar. I'm not gay, I'm just here for him- " *gestures to a chick who is obviously a guy wearing nothing but a wig and makeup and street clothes* "- but I wanted to know before I asked her."

Me: "Nope, she's not gay, she's straight."

Guy: "Okay, good. Well, here goes. The worst she can say is no, right?"

Me: "Exactly." *smiles*

I watch guy walk up to her and I see them talking. He walks over to me and says, "At least I tried!"

She comes back after getting her beer and says, "So this guy just asked if he could buy me a drink and I said no. I almost said yes, but then I was like, no."

Me: "I know, he came over and asked if we were 'together' or just friends. I probably should have told him you have a boyfriend."

Yeah, I'm that wingman. :)

Also, I GOT PROMOTED TO LAB MANAGER YESTERDAY MORNING!!!

I'm incredibly excited, which I'm sure will wear off eventually, but for now I'm basking in it. I was going to be doing the job for a while anyhow, so may as well get the title and pay bump, right? And that's what I told the manager that we were phone conferenced with who offered me the position. By the time I train someone else in, I'd be ready to just do the job myself. :) He said I'm not going to have as much time for baking and that it will be a shame. He's totally right, but it will be worth it.

So I have a 90 day probationary period where I'm considered 'Lab Manager in training', with bi-weekly training goals I'll need to meet, as well as some training in a few weeks with a guy on the expansion team. And we're getting more techs in the lab so I don't get overworked like poor Sam did.

Speaking of Sam, he had forgotten his CDs in the lab when he left on Friday and I thought I'd be nice and put them in my purse and bring them to the drag show since he was supposed to be there. He didn't show. After the show I decided to run to Walmart and pick up a few things I needed for baking cookies and Chocolate Bacon Cupcakes (wipe up the drool, kittens). As I walk in the door, I set off the fucking theft alarm. Guess what the culprit was?

The goddamn CDs. *facepalm*

I am so freaking cool.

Okay, as I'm padding back and forth down the hallway to check on the washer in the communal laundry room, I realize something.

My neighbors have to think I'm the coolest girl ever.

Seriously, who else is anally checking on their laundry at 11 pm on a Friday night? This girl, that's who.

Was today really April Fools Day? It felt more like Friday the fucking 13th. Today was Sam's last day, and due to a 'situation' of sorts, he ended up leaving very early today. Which, hi? Sucked.

Combine losing a good work friend with riding the cotton pony, and you have a very emotional, uterus-inclined, crazy fucking patchwork blanket of hormones blanketing my psyche. Jesus. Honestly, I cried today. Like, a lot. Like, couldn't talk about him leaving without crying. The worst part is I have NO idea why I'm so emotional about the whole damn thing. Sad I could understand. This emotional level has a big pink vagina all over it.

He and I went through a lot together at work and there were a few very stressful times it was just him and I working together in the lab. I guess I felt bonded or some other sentimental bullshit. Or it could be that he's the only person in that building I could really be myself with... With everyone else I have to watch everything I say and do, and even when I said something over the top he never seemed to care.

He made work fun. I'm going to miss that.

Now I get to take over his managerial duties. Let the fucking fun begin. The next few months are going to be really, really interesting. Guess I've gotta put on the big girl panties (don't worry, I'll wear a pantyliner so I don't get uterus all over them) and just deal.

Also, I hate when I want to eat and I'm not hungry. For a few reasons, actually. For one, nothing ever seems to sound good. Like, even if I were at a restaurant I have no clue what I'd order (besides a big fucking drink). And B, it's all unhealthy or some bullshit.

And on another note, I tried edamame the other day and holy hell is that delicious. Who knew legumes could be tasty?

Right now I'm stressed and upset, and I want to eat. Except I'm not hungry. Our boss bought us Dairy Queen (I got an Oreo blizzard, if any of you really care), so the pint of Ben and Jerry's in my freezer is totally unappetizing to me. Chocolate doesn't sound good. Tried having a few pieces of Laffy Taffy, and that's not working for me. Two strawberries and I gave up on those.

Christ, no wonder I'm not hungry, I've eaten a lot today. (Cause I also got an order of teriyaki boneless wings for lunch)(shut up, I was craving fried food and after the day I'd been having I deserved it)

In the words of Fairy Godmother from Shrek 2, "Someone bring me something deep fried and smothered in chocolate."

Ha, I said that to a coworker and she gave me a questioning look. I informed her I was riding the cotton pony and she just blurts out, "too much information!" hehe. Then she told me the state fair isn't for a couple more months, so I'd have to wait. Grr.

I'm going to attempt Chocolate Bacon Cupcakes on Sunday as a gift for Sam for helping me move last month. I hope they turn out well and that he likes them. I'll have to catch you all up on the food porn you've been missing, too! At least now I have some blog post ideas for when my stupid formerly bleach blonde brain is too fried to think of anything coherent beyond, "It's 5:00 somewhere, right?"

Holy hell, it's been over six months.

To the three of you who might still be following my blog, thank you. To any newcomers, my record is spotty, but I plan on updating at least once a week from now on.

So much has happened, my little kittens. So. Much. Shall I give you the CliffsNotes version? I'm going to pretend you're all sitting there in vapid admiration agreeing with every word I say, so here goes.

Last you all heard Erf and I had just moved into our new place in Duluth. Since then we've moved again... Into separate apartments. Back in October, I told him I wanted a divorce. I will explain, but that is a whole 'nuther post for a different day when my brain can handle writing about it.

We lived together until early this month (which, AWKWARD), and I got a one bedroom place in Superior while he and his friend got an apartment together in Duluth.

While this is bad news bears for multiple reasons, I can't help but be ridiculously excited for my very first apartment all on my own. It feels weird sometimes and I've been finding things to do to keep me out of the apartment when I don't have Erflet with me, but I'm getting more and more comfortable with it each day. I'm very slowly beginning the unpacking process (even though I've been here three weeks)(for real, I've had a crap ton of shit to do with wrapping things up from the old place and am just finding real free time), which is nice and annoying all at once.

I do hate not having Erflet with me every day, and it doesn't help if I'm doing something and lose track of the time that Erf texts me that Erflet was crying because I didn't call him to say goodnight. At the same time, I feel horribly guilty because I do enjoy the breaks I get. I shouldn't be enjoying this, but I've never had this much time away from him. Seriously, before now I'd never spent more than two nights away from him since he was born. He's now 5. I guess for now it's a novelty I'm sure I'll outgrow.

Work has been crazy insane and is looking to increase by a fucking buttload. Our doctor came on full time this summer, and since then we've been burdened with more jobs than we have staff or equipment to handle most days. Sam has put in his notice as he's sailing into bluer waters, and I'm very happy for him because if anyone knows how hard he works and how much time he puts in - it's me. However, this leaves my proverbial sperm sack in a vice because I'm the only one there who knows how to come close to doing his job until they find and train a replacement. And that means I'll be open to close six days a week after he's gone until they find a new manager.

I'm crazy thankful for the security and the overtime (which they hate authorizing, but is totes necessary in this case), but this means that my day off every week - which is my only solo day to spend with Erflet - is gone after next Thursday until further notice. Plus on top of trying to keep our heads above water jobwise, I get to train on paperwork and such with Sam before he leaves so someone can get it done.

Enough bitching.

I got to be a bridesmaid for the first time in my BFF's wedding this past October! For any of you good kittens who have read my not-really-recent-but-still-most-recent posts, the bridal shower cake was a total hit. It was a deliciously moist coconut cake with almond filling and vanilla buttercream frosting done in ivory and lavender. Anywho, it was an insanely beautiful wedding, she was absolutely stunning. And the reception was so much fun! She moved down to Arizona with her new husband, and is doing fabulous down there. :) As she so eloquently phrases it, 'the desert agrees with her'.

I went from light brown to bleach blonde to black hair. One of these days I'm going to go fucking bald, and I'll have no one to blame but an empty box of hair dye... Next up is red. :)

The whole unintentional weight loss has been going fairly well... I dropped from a size 22/24 to a size 18/20. And the fact that I'm in a second floor apartment sure as hell isn't going to hurt. I've been learning my lesson not to go crazy when grocery shopping; my building is also a secure building - so I need at least one hand free to unlock the downstairs door. I also don't spend half of what I used to on groceries... It's been nice.

Except I keep finding stupid things I need to buy, like a dry erase board to remind myself of all the crap I need to do that I keep forgetting to do but people keep getting pissed at me for forgetting to do them and so I bought myself the board so people can stop yelling at me. And I bought a new showerhead (because I overzealously broke my old one trying to install it), and I've named it Gerard because it has two heads... One is removable and the other is stationary. Which means I don't have to go cold when I use the handheld to... um... shave my legs. Yeah. And a dish drain. And I have to buy some sort of shelving thingamajig, because I have a lot of shit and a really small fucking kitchen.

Not too sure what else there is to say for now, but I have internet at this place so you can bet your sweet little asses I'll be updating way more often.

I leave you with something I thought at work today that sounds incredibly dirty and really isn't:

"Sometimes it's really annoying when the box is soaking wet."

Holy fracking sassafrass. Did I spell sassafrass correctly?

So much shit has been happening, kittens. I scarcely know where to begin.

I had to chide myself this evening when I was IMing with everyone's one and only Aunt Becky, and she had no idea that I had moved.

I fucking suck as a blogger lately. I blame it on a.) an insane work schedule, b.) lack of constant and steady streaming Intarwebz and c.) me just being a lazy bitch.

So, a few weeks ago, Erf, Erflet and I packed up our shit and moved out of our three bedroom apartment in Souptown and moved into a three bedroom house in Dull-uth. The reason sucked. Because of Erf and I losing our jobs last November and my obstinately pig-headed insistence to make my old job work (when obvs, I'm NOT a high-pressure salesperson), we had gone into arrears on our rent. We did get things paid up, but alas started to fall behind again. Not by much, we were paying what we could and would usually end up current within a month. My job only pays me $8.50 an hour, and my ex-coworker - who didn't give a shit if he broke lenses, thereby affecting our breakage 'bonus' pay - really screwed Sam (the lab manager) and I out of money.

Our lease was up at the end of June, and our landlady chose not to renew it. Which, dudes? I totally understand. I would've done the same damn thing. But moving? It sucked. I especially felt terrible moving Erflet AGAIN, when we had just moved into that apartment a year prior. Luckily, he's a hardy little fella, and he loves the new house. We're house sitting for my mom's friend; her mother passed away in May and this was her house. Mom's friend has her own house, and owns this one free and clear. So she needed someone to occupy it. :)

So here we are, and our new place is literally right across the street from McDonald's. And smelling frenchiddy fries from your front yard? IS OF DE DEBBIL. I've managed to abstain thus far, but my tenuous hold on self control can only be greased by spontaneous french fries for so long.

Seriously, do they put crack in the McNuggets and fries? Am I the only one who feels that way?

We also are going to be adopting two adorable dogs; we're fostering them until the shelter's vet has an opening to get them fixed. Then the adoption will become permanent. Kittens, meet Mr. Bill:

And Miss Mya:
Bill is a huge 71 lb ball of lovable kisses and energy, and is a black lab mix... We think he might be mixed with American Staffordshire or something similar, as his ears are docked and his tail is not, as well as the shape of his head and legs. He is Erf's dog, through and through.

Mya is a 9.8 lb ball of snuggles and kisses, and is a Chihuahua mix. I always said I'd never have a fucking chihuahua, because they're all Paris Hilton-y purse dogs. But Mya must be mixed with a terrier of some sort, because she is lap-size and very healthy. And seriously, dudes? I fell in love with her immediately, and she with me. She loves snuggling with me, and sleeps behind my knees every night, and adores car rides where she's on my lap with her head resting in the crook of my elbow. She's got a beautiful brindle coat, too - except for the three white toes on her back left paw. She's quirky, like me.

So that's really about everything up til now, I'd update a little more frequently but I'm leeching Intarwebz from McD's (retribution for the french fry stench) and I don't always have connection to the internet. I'm hoping to get a USB network adapter to boost my signal reception, but the one I want is like $55... Bleh. I need to check Craigslist, note to self....

*off like a prom dress to search Craigslist*

How I got squirted on by (an obviously male) machine.

So I'm sitting here going through my Reader, and I decided that I'd much rather write shit for people to read, than read shit that other people have written. I've got a couple of pretty good stories from work so far, and I thought I'd do the fabulous thing and share them with you.

Not like you have a choice about what I write. So ha. :)

My new job as a lab technician is going swimmingly. My third day on the job I was able to do a pair of glasses, from start to finish - by myself. Wahoo for me! From what everyone has told me, I seem to be smarter than your average bear. Or technician trainee. Whatever. It was kind of hilarious, because as my manager and I were talking about the other trainee, he told me had to keep reminding himself not to compare his progress to mine, because I was way ahead of where I should be.

Someone's going to have to come pop my fucking ego, because my head is too big for me to fit through the damn door. Seriously. I am awesome.

Also? Erf and Erflet are play wrestling in the living room. It is quite distracting, but in a cute, 'father-playing-with-his-son-who-may-randomly-hit-his-father-in-the-nuts' way.

So the whole process involves tracing the glasses, entering the prescription into the computer, lining up the axis, using the metal blocks and alloy machine to block the lenses, using the generator to cut in the prescription, buffing and polishing the lens, adding anti-scratch coating if necessary, blocking the lens again, cutting it to shape, adding UV protection or tint if necessary, then mounting the lens (ha, mounting) into the frames and checking to make sure the glasses are as they should be.

Well, on Thursday I was in the starting station - doing everything up to the generator. And I was trying to block a lens with the alloy machine, I broke the lever. This lever? Not an easy fucker to break. There's a huge spring that I undid or some shit, and the machine had to be taken apart to re-mount the spring. Both Sam and Lucas kept laughing and saying, "We've never seen anyone do that before." Because, apparently? It takes a lot of torque to undo that spring. I am she-woman, hear me roar!

Sam and Lucas proceeded to tease me the next few days about laying off the 'roids. :) FYI, the guys I work with (even though Lucas is a fuckstick and had quit - Saturday was his last day - before I started) are fucking AWESOME. It was mildly amusing when they each said to me, "Let us know if anything we say offends you." Because, ha! I can't recall the last time I found anything offensive. I'm a crude bitch, yo.

The other day I said to Sam, "You know, I do actually like Celine Dion. But, you know, I've got a vagina so it's cool."

The look on his face was priceless. Like he's never heard a female talk that way. Poor sheltered guy. He's in for such a shock. :)

So later that day after breaking the lever, I had left a cooling ring on the alloy machine and the alloy cooled and hardened inside the rubber nipple. (Dudes, I know. This place is full of hilarious and awesome innuendos.) I could not, for the life of me, dig out the alloy. So I did what any true blonde would fucking do. I pulled the lever in the hopes that the alloy would melt the cooled alloy. Apparently, the alloy machine was seeking revenge. It decided to squirt me with shiny, silver, 114 degree metal. Typical male, showing me who was boss by spooging on me.

Apparently even inanimate objects find my tits irresistible. Because that's where it decided to shoot it's load. Right on my chest, and down into my bra. Yeah, I know. Of course Sam and Lucas crack up laughing, and manage to spit out, "We've never seen anyone do that before!"

They say that a lot. To me, anyway.

So I had to go in the bathroom and fish alloy chips out of my tits. I came back in and said, "You know, that's the first time I've ever taken my bra off at work. It was rather awkward."