Take a trip. Or a hike. Outta here.

I'm getting better at telling what people to stay out of my life. It's hard for me. I like people to like me. So much that in my past I've put my feelings at stake before someone else's, even if they are in the wrong. I'm getting better at using my rational side and listening to it. You know that side that says "Yeah...you're a jerk...and I'm not going to dig you out of it this this time?" That one.

I've always said that I've wanted a person in my life,  'significant other' if you will, that has lived a little bit of life. My pet peeve: someone who is judgemental, or naive. I used to think experience, or "life", makes a person more understanding. It does -  but there are some people who are still just congenital poo-faces, and always will be. Congenital = born with it. And not going to change.

I've gotten to the point where I can at least verbally tell someone, "Hey, you did this awful thing to me, and you're mean." Rational side of Shelly can list out the facts of what happened and make myself feel justified. But the part that makes me "me" is that little emotional part that still believes in the goodness of a complete and utter poo-face. My rose-colored glasses, if you will. The part that questions what I could have done better, what I can change about myself, or  I can take the blame. That part of me is inherent and never going away. I just have to save those little glasses for someone who really deserves it.

Maybe these lil' undies will bring me some more adventures today in telling people where to go. Stay tuned. Listen to these three reasons at the beginning of his video. Fan-freaking-tastic.

i see london...

Yep, I'm blogging about underwear. Such a necessity, and so under rated. 

Last week I bought a few new undies that were desperately needed. Part of the 5/$25 at VS. Love those. I have an obsession with ones that say things across the toosh. I have no idea why. 

But since then...weird things have been happening. I pretty much have a story for every new pair I wear. So why don't I blog about it? Each time I wear a new pair, I'm going to talk about it. Mostly because I love underwear and the safety and security it brings, but because funny and weird things seem to be happening to me lately. Maybe it's part of being 24, single, and a nurse, that crap happens? Speaking of underwear... get it?

So the first pair!

Cute, but nothing crazy. I dub these my "Save the World" panties. Why?Here goes.

10:00 am: I'm sleeping after working until 3 a.m. Someone is ringing my doorbell incessantly. Three minutes later, still ringing. I throw on my glasses and squint through the peephole. I have no idea who it is. Open it. Wrong door. Seriously?

12:30: Some dude is knocking on my neighbor's door. Loud. Incessantly. I put on my best "I will kick the crap out of you" face, open it, stare at the man, and close the door.

Mind you, my neighbors are little partiers. Mariachi music all hours of the night, people coming in and out all the time. I just haven't complained about it.

1:00 pm: Someone else knocking loudly on my neighbor's door. Yelling some name. After a minute I open it up. It's a blonde lady, a speech therapist saying she's coming to visit the little girl who's delayed. She says she's worried the pregnant mother isn't safe, because she can hear her voice but no one is coming to the door. I tell her something is up with all this ruckus.

1:30 pm: Speech therapist lady and I go to the apartment office and talk with a manager. We call the police to have him go to my neighbor's house. They go, the Mom is fine. (Apparently.) All the yelling was about the teenage brother being "sick" and worried he is on drugs. Speech therapist lady speaks with the family, and they call the cops back so they can do a wellness checkup on the son. Saved the day? Probably not. But hopefully the son will get some help.

This is not nearly as exciting in type. I'm just glad I'm moving on Friday. And going to Hawaii in a month...I'm going to need a lot of new undies for that trip.