November 05, 2004

Itchy Pants Dance

No its not where I wear wool up against my bare ass and run around all day scratching like crazy. It's what most Mom's would cally the "ants in your pants" syndrome. But in our house if you said the A-N-T-S word I would spontaneously break into this tribal stomping dance looking for all the little suckers I could to KILL THEM. This dance involved me pumping my arms about bring my knees as high as I could and generally a LOT of jumping. My Indian name, despite 18 years of ballet, as you might guess has never been "Walks without sound." So when ever I would get all excited that I would loose all bodily control, Mom would ask "Why are you doing the Itchy Pants Dance?"

You may now ask Why I am doing the Itchy Pants Dance... I will tell you why. But first I got to break out into song. Sing it with me Pointer Sisters. I'm So Excited, and I just can't hide it. I'm about to loose control and I think I like it. oooooh ooooo hoooooo! Hell yeah I am a child of the 80s baybee!

Seriously though, I can't hide it. Unfortunately I am at the Ministry of Etrangeness, and it is NOT shareable material with them. So I can't break out in the Itchy Pants Dance (tm). Ok so I did, but it does not have the same significance when done in the toilet stall. And really I then had to leave the building to get ammo to try and calm my hyper ass down. I still think I am going to spontaneously combust though. I have to tell someone, CAN.NOT.KEEP.ON.INSIDE.ANY.MORE. And you all get to be the lucky people!

So Karma and I had coffee together this morning. We had the whole "let's take a tally of the cosmic scorecard of the universe" discussion. She decided that last Friday tipped the balances in my favor. And even though I don't like doing the Bi-Polar swing (not as fun of a dance as the Itchy Pants Dance (tm)) I am taking her up on the offer to get loaded today. And when Karma comes at you will all barrels loaded- you better take a deep breath.

So yesterday I panicked. Notice all the panicking- seriously Reality, I have had enough of your bitchslapping me around. Go take a holiday with Murphy on my Visa account 123456789. French administrators take a perverse pleasure in making your life hell. And this one I have known almost a year, she is the kind that couldn't find her own ass with both hands a flashlight and all arrows pointing at it. We'll just call her ASStrid. ASStrid, decided to tell me she would do something and then say she wouldn't do it. This thing might make me ineligible for the post... So I cracked under the pressure. I had been sitting like a good hen on this email to the PHENOMENAL researcher I met in September. I ADORE HER, and she is like the GODDESS in what I research. She had hinted she liked me and would love to have me work with her... so since she had talked about me visiting her and we were making plans for it, I decided to broach the subject. You know ask the "are you really being honest or is this a hidden camera cruel kind of joke" question. She got back to me immediately saying she was intereseted but could we talk about it in person. I said sure.

I hear you, I hear you; get to the deal- enough of the background crap. So fastforward to today and the itchy pants dancing (tm). I had given up on the job at the IO my friend had said they were hot to trot and wanted someone like yetserday. It had been 3 weeks since I had heard from them. And I had heard NADA, ZIP, ZILCH, and RIEN from them. I muttered to myself I should have known better than jinx it by wanting it bad enough to start planning my life like sixth grade girls write their names with cute boys last names.

So I am popular today. I get a call from a friend I had been trying to hook up with for months. We are having drinks after work today, I LOVE her. All good, I am happy. Then I get a call from the IO asking me to interview. COMMENCE THE BOUNCING. Bouncing That makes Tigger look like he took a valium and a big ass hit from the bong! But first try not to scream your excitement down the throat of the proper British woman on the other end of the line. I have an interview on Monday people!!! (Sorry for the ear drum damage that caused)

Then cue to me trying to sit still and send a thank you for ignoring my panicked emails about this to my friend at the IO and what is in my inbox but an email from the AMAZING researcher. She just got her grant and thinks she can fund me to work with her. She wants to help out, but needs to let is sink in and we will talk more when I head on my Northern Expedition next month.

UMMMM in 15min frame all in life has CONVERGED on me again and I cannot breathe. Here I was thinking my internship was gonna go south of the border(hey I got family there!), biting my nails waiting for a response from my thesis adviser, and ready for another weekend of doom and gloom. Umm now I am doing the itchy pants dance (tm) and screaming in a pitch only the dogs can hear.


Note there has been no knitting content as I cannot keep my hands still whilst doing the itchy pants dance. Itchy pants dance will be on the jukebox for the next couple of hours. All attempts will be made to bring knitting back to the blog with the next post.

Posted by Stinkerbell at November 5, 2004 03:02 PM | TrackBack