The girl who just can't play it cool

it was amazing. I felt like I was on drugs.  I’ve never felt so much life and fur in my arms at once. Actually, the word amazing doesn’t even cut it. Amazing is too ordinary to describe this feeling. You think “Oh yeah, holding 4 kittens will just be like holding one.” But it’s not.  And “How different could it really be?” It’s very different. It’s a whole different experience. THERE’S JUST SO MUCH. You don’t know what to do with yourself….where to look, what to hold. You’ll start laughing uncontrollably. You’ll feel all flushed and giggly. You’re just experiencing all the kitten at the same time, all around you, all over you. It’s overwhelming. You’ll start feeling so many things at once you won’t know what’s going on with you and the only thing you will know for sure is that you never want it to stop and you just want more and more and more.  The only thing is, now that I’ve had this feeling, I can’t go back to holding just one kitten. It’s just not the same. 

hands with me while we were at school. I liked the fact that he’s a boy so we would just look like a normal couple, but actually he’s gay. You think he’d be honoured to walk around school holding hands with a cool chick like me but I had to practically beg. And just in case I wasn’t feeling stupid enough about it after begging with him, Scott punched my ego in the face again 3 minutes later when we walked into the cafeteria. This little experiment was doomed from the start.

A group of guys who Scott and I both had a few classes with were standing near the soups. In a program full of nerds, they were basically the cooler group of guys who we both frequently talked to. Not friends- but not not friends.  I suddenly became extremely aware that I was holding Scott’s hand. But I couldn’t let go now. I had pleaded for this. And I didn’t want him to think I that I cared about what they think. Scott, though, had no such qualms. As soon as I silently resolved myself to continuing to hold his hand in front of this group of guys- if they didn’t get the joke, screw them- Scott dropped my mine like it was suddenly on fire. He said he didn’t want them to think he’s straight. What. the. hell. That is the last time I try to bond with him. Scott never appreciated my efforts to spice up our relationship. As soon as something more appealing comes along, he’s gone. Typical dude, gay or no gay.

Who am I kidding though, I was totally relieved he dropped my hand. I mean I was a bit hurt, but also quite relieved. I didn’t want them to think I was dating a guy who’s gay. I’m not that kind of weird.

I’ve been told that mine is excellent. Like not just good, or decent, or normal… but excellent. I have Excellent Blood Pressure. I wouldn’t even care but it’s just that it’s happened so many times now that I’m starting to think I’m special. I’m not naturally good at a lot of things either, so this means a lot to me. I don’t have that thing where I’m just good at stuff without trying. Unless it’s talking about myself. That comes pretty effortlessly to me.

So anyway, when I get my blood pressure taken and I’m told mine is excellent, I feel a little pleased with myself. I feel a little proud. Like cool, great blood pressure. That’s something I can put on my resume right? It’s gotta be. Special skills: Excellent Blood Pressure- less likely than others to faint on the job. Not like Fainting Faye over there. Don’t hire her. Hire Jess: Excellent Blood Pressure. I feel like excellent blood pressure means I’m not prone to fainting. I don’t actually know that to be a fact but it feels right so I’m going to go with it.

To be honest, I don’t even know what it means the nurse says she’s going to check my blood pressure. She wraps that velcro thing round my arm and takes a listen and then that’s it- Excellent Blood Pressure.  I actually make the same joke every time she does this. I can’t stand that quick minute when I have to be quiet so they can take a listen to all my blood cells moving around:

“So I’m still alive?”

And I immediately cringe inwardly because I remind myself of the old men who shop at my store who make horrible jokes for attention. The nurse always laughs though. But I can never tell if it’s a fake laugh or not. My ego tells me it’s real but my gut says it’s fake.

It sounds so cool. Food poisoning. Who gets that? Not a lot of people that I know. If you get food poisoning, you are special. If you’re with a bunch of people and you mention that you had food poisoning, you’re guaranteed to be the centre of attention for at least the next 3 minutes.

“Food poisoning? No! From where? I’m never going to go there. What did you eat? What happened to you? Are you ok?”

It could be from anything.  It’s so mysterious. And exotic. And painful. And while puking in a toilet all night will garner sympathy from your friends, it doesn’t scream…glamour. It mostly just prompts deep questions like “When was the last time this toilet was cleaned?” and “You think this is eggshell or cream?” and “How does a toilet even work?”

supposed to take an iron pill every day because, you know…. I have low iron. But I never did because I didn’t want to bother with it and it’s not like I felt like I needed it or anything. Recently though, I decided I was finally gonna finally do it…I decided to start taking my iron pill every day. It’s time to start being an adult and start taking myself. So I did. And I felt good. Look at me world, taking my iron pill! Ain’t nothing gonna stop me now! I don’t feel any different whatsoever but I’m sure my body loves me for doing this and all my blood cells are high fiving each other right now and I’m going to live five years longer than I would have before I started taking them. It was only after taking one pill a day for two weeks straight that I thought to look at the date on the bottle. They expired eight years ago.