I got a phone call this morning, from a number I didn't recognize. So I answered it. It was a very informative phone call. Background: Back when I was in school, my dad took out a loan to help pay for it. Even though it was in his name, I have been paying it for the last couple of years. I tried to send the loan people my new address when I moved last February, but after the third try I gave up. So I haven't been paying it. I figured, it's in his name, not mine, so it won't affect my credit. But this phone call made me worry that I was in trouble. Anyway, the lady calling me this morning didn't even know my dad was dead. She apologized and then informed me: Since he is dead, all I have to do is send in a death certificate, and the loan is forgiven. As in, "POOF!" and sympathies from Uncle Sam. They are even sending a condolence letter!
Ever the skeptic, I called Czarina, who was also skeptical. I mean, the money is owed. We are willing to pay it. We are scratching our heads. I guess when we get the letter, with directions for how to do the paperwork, we will know more. Does anyone else think this sounds crazy? As a tax payer, this concerns me. Are my tax dollars going towards people in similar situations? Not that I'm not sorry for their loss, but is it really fair for strangers to pay for one's college loans?? I don't expect strangers to pay for mine.
More randomness: I have been having a lot of dreams about elephants lately. Don't know what that means.
The toilet paper here at work is locked. As if anyone would ever steal that sandpaper! The little basket embedded in the wall where women put their unmentionables is also locked. That concerns me. Have they had a problem with people stealing that stuff in the past? Makes no sense.
Today, a man came up to me at the desk to inform me about one of the computers here in the library. Its clock is an hour off. Why would anyone care, much less take the time to report it is beyond me. People need lives. Good grief.
So this weekend, I was sitting on my porch, drinking my coffee. Suddenly, out of nowhere, this guy pulls up in a white Blazer. He leaves it in park, sitting in the little road that runs through my apartment complex. A woman is in the passenger seat because I can hear her talking to him. The guy gets out, with a hammer in hand. This caught my attention, since he left the car in park to hop out. And he didn't look happy. And he wasn't carrying anything you'd expect someone who is nailing stuff to a wall. Just the hammer. And he was in a hurry. Very strange. He didn't see me, and once he went into the breezeway, I couldn't see him. So I listened. He banged his hammer on something, and then came back out. He went over to the other end of the building, went in that breezeway, and hammered something and then got back in his car and left. Later on, I went investigating with Sammy. I saw nothing hammered, bent, damaged or nailed to anything.
This completely baffles me. I can't figure out why he was hammering, what he was hammering or who he was. I didn't recognize him at all, nor did I recognize his car. The craziest part was, no one else woke up. And it was loud.
Any theories?
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Monday, July 10, 2006
Weak End
Friday night I went out to eat dinner with K and Brunette. After dinner, I made an impromptu stop at Repo's to talk about some stuff. I thought I was pretty mean to him, as I was very short with him, but he told me later that I wasn't mean at all-- I was just telling him how I felt and that I wasn't going to tolerate certain behaviors anymore. I got some stuff off my chest, and left because we weren't getting anywhere and I had a movie to catch.
Brunette, K and I were going to see The Devil Wears Prada, but we missed the shows because I took too long yelling at Repo and there was no parking at the movie theater. Oops. By the way, has anyone else observed the phenomena that is Pirates of the Carribbean? I saw no fewer than 10 people dressed like pirates at the theater. And there were approximately 759,000 people going to see the movie. Crazy.
So we went back to my house to continue drinking as we got ready to go out. Wisely, I decided not to take any Vicodin this time. Once out, I had my very first meeting with another blogger--Matilda Jane. She is super cool, which I had already figured out from her blog. Gotta love meeting cool new people. We had so much fun hanging out. She and K sat there giggling their little butts off the whole time.
Anyway, she brought a guy pal of hers, who also happens to read my blog (this was news to me). So he knew I had been having some...problems lately. But he and I hit it off, and since I could tell things were so rocky with Repo, I went ahead and gave him my number. What can I say? I saw the inevitable on the horizon. It was just a phone number.
Later on, we went to one of my favorite bars, Local's. Matilda Jane didn't want to go there, so we said goodbye to her and her friend. We ran into JD, who told me Repo had just left. Whew! That was a relief. I needed a break from talking about things so much. We ended up having a great night.
Saturday I went shopping with Brunette and K. I got some cute stuff. Maybe I should take some pics and share...anyway, I was feeling pretty blue, knowing what was coming: The Talk. Showtime. Ugh. The word "dread" doesn't even begin to describe it. K left to go out. Brunette invited me to join her and Mrs. Basketball, but I just didn't feel up to it. Finally, Repo called. After talking on the phone for a while, we decided that the conversation would have been better in person. Since he is convinced that K hates him now, he talked me into going to his house.
We sat and talked on his porch for a long, long time. I cried and smoked and cried and smoked. The details don't really matter, and besides, it was pretty personal stuff, but what it came down to was that he has some things he needs to work out before he can really commit to a relationship. The more I think about it, the less I believe it has anything to do with me. These are his issues, not issues with me. He does care about me, but he wanted to take a step back, have some space and have a more casual relationship with me so he could feel free to get the time he needs. He didn't want to break up at all. At the time, it seemed like we could try that. Then I fell asleep.
Four hours later, I woke up, feeling like an idiot. No matter the reason, either you want to be with me or you don't. I know me, and if we tried to date casually, it would have really messed with my head. There is no way I can go from girlfriend status to casually dating status and be okay with it. I knew what I had to do. So at 5am, I got up and drove home, crashing in my bed until 1pm.
I called and left a message, and he called me back a few hours later. I told him that I deserved to have a full time relationship, not a part time one. That we both deserved to be happy, even if it isn't with each other. And if we stayed together, it would make us both miserable. I hoped that he would get the time and help he needed to get over this hump. He was upset, I think, but he understood. I don't think he agreed with my decision, but he didn't really have a say. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Because I knew that it wasn't because he doesn't care for me. I know that now. So all of my anger has dissipated completely, now that I have learned more about what is going through his mind.
I told him he can always call me, as there are no hard feelings. He said he will if he needs to and that I should do the same. I know his problems aren't going to go away overnight. I just hope he does what he needs to do so that he can be happy, whether it leads back to me or not. So maybe soon, we can start talking again. Until then, I need to have little to no contact with him so I can heal. I'm pretty bummed, right now.
After a good cry, I got cleaned up and I took Sammy to go get some ice cream. He got some soft serve ice cream, and ate the whole thing. It was so much ice cream, he started shivering! It cracks me up how he can't take his time and eat ice cream slowly.
Then K and I went to see The Devil Wears Prada. It was pretty good! Definitely a nice distraction.
Speaking of distractions, I am going out with that guy tonight. My heart's not really in it, but maybe it will be good for me. It will get me out of the house and stop me from moping, at least for a few hours. I just wish he was willing to let me wait until the weekend. I was hoping to have a few days to heal.
Whew! That post was hard to write! Not only am I still emotional, but both guys read this blog....eeek! I really hope I haven't said too much or offended either one of them....
Thanks again to all of my friends and readers. Your comments mean a lot to me. They are very much appreciated. I'll try and get back to some normal posts as soon as I can.
Brunette, K and I were going to see The Devil Wears Prada, but we missed the shows because I took too long yelling at Repo and there was no parking at the movie theater. Oops. By the way, has anyone else observed the phenomena that is Pirates of the Carribbean? I saw no fewer than 10 people dressed like pirates at the theater. And there were approximately 759,000 people going to see the movie. Crazy.
So we went back to my house to continue drinking as we got ready to go out. Wisely, I decided not to take any Vicodin this time. Once out, I had my very first meeting with another blogger--Matilda Jane. She is super cool, which I had already figured out from her blog. Gotta love meeting cool new people. We had so much fun hanging out. She and K sat there giggling their little butts off the whole time.
Anyway, she brought a guy pal of hers, who also happens to read my blog (this was news to me). So he knew I had been having some...problems lately. But he and I hit it off, and since I could tell things were so rocky with Repo, I went ahead and gave him my number. What can I say? I saw the inevitable on the horizon. It was just a phone number.
Later on, we went to one of my favorite bars, Local's. Matilda Jane didn't want to go there, so we said goodbye to her and her friend. We ran into JD, who told me Repo had just left. Whew! That was a relief. I needed a break from talking about things so much. We ended up having a great night.
Saturday I went shopping with Brunette and K. I got some cute stuff. Maybe I should take some pics and share...anyway, I was feeling pretty blue, knowing what was coming: The Talk. Showtime. Ugh. The word "dread" doesn't even begin to describe it. K left to go out. Brunette invited me to join her and Mrs. Basketball, but I just didn't feel up to it. Finally, Repo called. After talking on the phone for a while, we decided that the conversation would have been better in person. Since he is convinced that K hates him now, he talked me into going to his house.
We sat and talked on his porch for a long, long time. I cried and smoked and cried and smoked. The details don't really matter, and besides, it was pretty personal stuff, but what it came down to was that he has some things he needs to work out before he can really commit to a relationship. The more I think about it, the less I believe it has anything to do with me. These are his issues, not issues with me. He does care about me, but he wanted to take a step back, have some space and have a more casual relationship with me so he could feel free to get the time he needs. He didn't want to break up at all. At the time, it seemed like we could try that. Then I fell asleep.
Four hours later, I woke up, feeling like an idiot. No matter the reason, either you want to be with me or you don't. I know me, and if we tried to date casually, it would have really messed with my head. There is no way I can go from girlfriend status to casually dating status and be okay with it. I knew what I had to do. So at 5am, I got up and drove home, crashing in my bed until 1pm.
I called and left a message, and he called me back a few hours later. I told him that I deserved to have a full time relationship, not a part time one. That we both deserved to be happy, even if it isn't with each other. And if we stayed together, it would make us both miserable. I hoped that he would get the time and help he needed to get over this hump. He was upset, I think, but he understood. I don't think he agreed with my decision, but he didn't really have a say. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Because I knew that it wasn't because he doesn't care for me. I know that now. So all of my anger has dissipated completely, now that I have learned more about what is going through his mind.
I told him he can always call me, as there are no hard feelings. He said he will if he needs to and that I should do the same. I know his problems aren't going to go away overnight. I just hope he does what he needs to do so that he can be happy, whether it leads back to me or not. So maybe soon, we can start talking again. Until then, I need to have little to no contact with him so I can heal. I'm pretty bummed, right now.
After a good cry, I got cleaned up and I took Sammy to go get some ice cream. He got some soft serve ice cream, and ate the whole thing. It was so much ice cream, he started shivering! It cracks me up how he can't take his time and eat ice cream slowly.
Then K and I went to see The Devil Wears Prada. It was pretty good! Definitely a nice distraction.
Speaking of distractions, I am going out with that guy tonight. My heart's not really in it, but maybe it will be good for me. It will get me out of the house and stop me from moping, at least for a few hours. I just wish he was willing to let me wait until the weekend. I was hoping to have a few days to heal.
Whew! That post was hard to write! Not only am I still emotional, but both guys read this blog....eeek! I really hope I haven't said too much or offended either one of them....
Thanks again to all of my friends and readers. Your comments mean a lot to me. They are very much appreciated. I'll try and get back to some normal posts as soon as I can.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Trying
I keep trying to think of posts to write. I want to change the subject, but when I try, I can't seem to "get into" the post. I'm just not in any mood other than pissed off/depressed. So I save these "nice" posts to finish on another day. (I will post them, promise!) I write another post, trying to go with the flow and get some stuff off my chest-- hinting around at what is wrong without getting too long-winded. This time, no matter how much I try, the anger still comes out. Or my post gets really personal. Too personal to ever be put on a blog. I don't write this blog so I can bash people semi-publicly. Well, not people I care about. :)
Speaking of which, I wonder if he is reading right now....if he is, he's probably not very happy about what I'm writing.
I would really like to stop feeling like this. I'm trying. I am tired of thinking about it and talking about it. I just want it to be over so I can move on, for better or worse. I have been trying to distract myself and do fun things: I have been watching Austin Powers (which always cracks me up!). I have tried exercise and cigarettes. I have tried junk food. I have tried shopping. I have tried chocolate and playing with Sammy. I have gone out (actually, this helped a lot...I'm glad it's Friday so I can go out again!) and had fun with K running errands. I have tried Vicodin (which was a bad idea...but not bad enough from keeping from trying again...)
I am listening to a lot of angry music and singing along-- badly. I should write a letter to Kelly Clarkson. It would go like this:
Dear Kelly,
I just wanted to thank you for writing all of your songs. They are extremely therapeutic for me right now. I think I am dating your ex. Please forgive me for singing them so badly. I can assure you I am not butchering them in public.
Thanks,
VB
I have talked to several friends and I've emailed so many readers, but I am still angry. I daydream about doing and saying really mean things. Things I know I would regret later. So before tomorrow afternoon, when it's Showtime, I need to calm down so that I can have a normal, adult conversation. No personal attacks, no accusations. No jumping to conclusions. I will try my best to give the benefit of the doubt. Lots of listening and deep breaths....
And now, I'm moving into the next stage: my anger is slowly melting away into depression. (Not I-need-some-prozac depression, but just extremely bummed out, I guess.) I'm crying. I have insomnia. I don't want to eat. Or get out of bed. (Ok, I never want to get out of bed....but lately it's worse than usual.)
I have tried to be grateful for what I do have. To remember that it could be worse. I saw a girl yesterday when I took my car in for a tire rotation. She is about my age, I guess. She has one leg. Not even a nub--the whole dang thing is gone. And she was in a great mood. She was patient and understanding and nice to the mechanic. This made me feel like a complete asshole. Here I am, whining and sobbing all week about my love life. Gah, get over yourself, VB!
I am so grateful for my readers right now. Those of you (and you know who you are!) who have emailed me, listened to me and given me advice. You are awesome. I love you guys!!! I am really flabbergasted that any of you care enough to take the time to even read what I sent, let alone reply. (Although, now that I think about it, I would have done the same thing if I were you...I guess we all get involved in each others' lives to an extent. So yeah, this is an invitation for me to return the favor one day.)
I am thinking of doing something for y'all for putting up with all my crap. What can I do??? Take requests for post topics? Answer personal questions? Flash my boobs? (I know Detox would vote in favor of that idea...)
Maybe it will just take time. Maybe I have to post a few more angry posts. Maybe things will be better this weekend. Until then, I'm sorry, but you might have to bear with me.
Speaking of which, I wonder if he is reading right now....if he is, he's probably not very happy about what I'm writing.
I would really like to stop feeling like this. I'm trying. I am tired of thinking about it and talking about it. I just want it to be over so I can move on, for better or worse. I have been trying to distract myself and do fun things: I have been watching Austin Powers (which always cracks me up!). I have tried exercise and cigarettes. I have tried junk food. I have tried shopping. I have tried chocolate and playing with Sammy. I have gone out (actually, this helped a lot...I'm glad it's Friday so I can go out again!) and had fun with K running errands. I have tried Vicodin (which was a bad idea...but not bad enough from keeping from trying again...)
I am listening to a lot of angry music and singing along-- badly. I should write a letter to Kelly Clarkson. It would go like this:
Dear Kelly,
I just wanted to thank you for writing all of your songs. They are extremely therapeutic for me right now. I think I am dating your ex. Please forgive me for singing them so badly. I can assure you I am not butchering them in public.
Thanks,
VB
I have talked to several friends and I've emailed so many readers, but I am still angry. I daydream about doing and saying really mean things. Things I know I would regret later. So before tomorrow afternoon, when it's Showtime, I need to calm down so that I can have a normal, adult conversation. No personal attacks, no accusations. No jumping to conclusions. I will try my best to give the benefit of the doubt. Lots of listening and deep breaths....
And now, I'm moving into the next stage: my anger is slowly melting away into depression. (Not I-need-some-prozac depression, but just extremely bummed out, I guess.) I'm crying. I have insomnia. I don't want to eat. Or get out of bed. (Ok, I never want to get out of bed....but lately it's worse than usual.)
I have tried to be grateful for what I do have. To remember that it could be worse. I saw a girl yesterday when I took my car in for a tire rotation. She is about my age, I guess. She has one leg. Not even a nub--the whole dang thing is gone. And she was in a great mood. She was patient and understanding and nice to the mechanic. This made me feel like a complete asshole. Here I am, whining and sobbing all week about my love life. Gah, get over yourself, VB!
I am so grateful for my readers right now. Those of you (and you know who you are!) who have emailed me, listened to me and given me advice. You are awesome. I love you guys!!! I am really flabbergasted that any of you care enough to take the time to even read what I sent, let alone reply. (Although, now that I think about it, I would have done the same thing if I were you...I guess we all get involved in each others' lives to an extent. So yeah, this is an invitation for me to return the favor one day.)
I am thinking of doing something for y'all for putting up with all my crap. What can I do??? Take requests for post topics? Answer personal questions? Flash my boobs? (I know Detox would vote in favor of that idea...)
Maybe it will just take time. Maybe I have to post a few more angry posts. Maybe things will be better this weekend. Until then, I'm sorry, but you might have to bear with me.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
The Silver Lining
I just posted a very negative/sad/depressing post. (See below.) I am not going to lie and pretend that there isn't a big, dark cloud hanging over me. There is. But (here comes the cheese...) there is a silver lining. And it all comes from K. Right now, she is my angel.
She took me out the other night. Granted, it wasn't the best night I've ever had, but I have no one to blame but myself for the bad parts. I'm such a doofus, I didn't even get to enjoy my vicodin before hurling everywhere. The thing is, what I really needed was to feel attractive and single and happy, and she definitely helped me out. She helped me select a hottie outfit, pointed out the guys checking me out (I don't know if they really were, but even if she was making it up, it felt good!), didn't give me a hard time about my cigarette crutch, and even drove. We only listened to two tracks all night: Natasha Bedingfield's Single and Kelly Clarkson's Walk Away. Total pop music bliss.
Then yesterday, she took me to the Peach Festival. It completely got my mind off of stuff. I spent the day with her and Sammy, walking around checking out her hometown. I got an ice cream cone and sat down on the grass to eat it. Sammy made us laugh. Once we got too hot and just couldn't take it anymore, we went to her parents' house. Her mom made us lunch. We watched a funny movie and napped. Then we got up and she showed me how to burn a CD on their computer and even sat with me to help me think of songs. Her dad and cousin watched Sammy for me. Soon it was dinnertime. Her parents made a huge spread: ribs, chili dogs, corn on the cob, salad, bread, boiled peanuts (not my thing, but Sammy's new favorite treat), brownies and the BEST peach cobbler I've ever put in my mouth. I think I ate about 4 pounds of food.
Then K and I got into the hot tub and had girl talk for about an hour and a half. Amazingly, she doesn't get sick of my dumb questions, ventings, pathetic whining or bad mood. Once our fingers were sufficiently pruned, we drove home, with Sammy konked out in the back seat. And leftover peach cobbler to take home.
She even let me listen to (and sing along to) my new CD on the way home. And I'm a terrible singer. Halfway through track 10, we realized it was blank until the end. Can I just tell you how much of a pisser that was??? Music is my therapy, and it was like my therapist left the room. It was suffocating, almost. But she offered to re-burn it for me.
She walked with me as I smoked a cig before going inside. And put in a funny movie for us to watch. I fell asleep on the couch. She let me sleep.
I heart K.
She took me out the other night. Granted, it wasn't the best night I've ever had, but I have no one to blame but myself for the bad parts. I'm such a doofus, I didn't even get to enjoy my vicodin before hurling everywhere. The thing is, what I really needed was to feel attractive and single and happy, and she definitely helped me out. She helped me select a hottie outfit, pointed out the guys checking me out (I don't know if they really were, but even if she was making it up, it felt good!), didn't give me a hard time about my cigarette crutch, and even drove. We only listened to two tracks all night: Natasha Bedingfield's Single and Kelly Clarkson's Walk Away. Total pop music bliss.
Then yesterday, she took me to the Peach Festival. It completely got my mind off of stuff. I spent the day with her and Sammy, walking around checking out her hometown. I got an ice cream cone and sat down on the grass to eat it. Sammy made us laugh. Once we got too hot and just couldn't take it anymore, we went to her parents' house. Her mom made us lunch. We watched a funny movie and napped. Then we got up and she showed me how to burn a CD on their computer and even sat with me to help me think of songs. Her dad and cousin watched Sammy for me. Soon it was dinnertime. Her parents made a huge spread: ribs, chili dogs, corn on the cob, salad, bread, boiled peanuts (not my thing, but Sammy's new favorite treat), brownies and the BEST peach cobbler I've ever put in my mouth. I think I ate about 4 pounds of food.
Then K and I got into the hot tub and had girl talk for about an hour and a half. Amazingly, she doesn't get sick of my dumb questions, ventings, pathetic whining or bad mood. Once our fingers were sufficiently pruned, we drove home, with Sammy konked out in the back seat. And leftover peach cobbler to take home.
She even let me listen to (and sing along to) my new CD on the way home. And I'm a terrible singer. Halfway through track 10, we realized it was blank until the end. Can I just tell you how much of a pisser that was??? Music is my therapy, and it was like my therapist left the room. It was suffocating, almost. But she offered to re-burn it for me.
She walked with me as I smoked a cig before going inside. And put in a funny movie for us to watch. I fell asleep on the couch. She let me sleep.
I heart K.
Varying Degrees of Pain
Life hurts right now. In order of least to most painful....
I have my annual review today. Should be awkward, yet virtually painless. I already saw the form, and it says I'm doing fine. Which is incredible to me, considering that I'd say that in any given week, I only do about 15 minutes of real, actual work. (Anyone get my movie reference?) So once it's over, I don't have to worry again for a year. Boss Lady hates them more than I do, so it shouldn't be any worse than ripping off a band-aid.
I got sunburned yesterday from being outside at the SC Peach Festival. It was about 4,000 degrees outside, and I thought Sammy and I might die of heat exhaustion. If it weren't for the peach ice cream in a waffle cone, I doubt I would be living to tell the tale. The cool thing is, my sunburn doesn't hurt. Although, maybe my rage is distracting those nerve endings...
GI-tract issues. Don't really need to say any more about that...it is probably from stress. Or vicodin.
Remember my cavity? Something isn't right about it, because I have tooth sensitivity. I can't eat on that side of my mouth. When I bite down, it hurts! It will probably be back to tha dentist for me...oh joy.
Total lack of appetite. This is a clear sign I am not happy.
Every person who has walked in here today apparently drank Stupid Juice for breakfast. Right after eating a big bowl of Annoy-ios. (Get it? Like Cheerios?) It's the breakfast of champions. I can't deal with morons when I'm pissed off. I imagine ripping their heads off, kind of like Ally McBeal-style.
I worked out on Sunday. (Good for relieving stress! But apparently not good enough!) However, my triceps still feel like they have been shredded. No amount of stretching seems to soothe them. And I don't want to take pain killers. Although, on second thought...
Shit, I just realized I left my smokes at home. Pisser.
Shit, I have a guilt trip for even having a pack of them in my possession. I promise this is only a temporary bad habit.
Last night, I was at K's parents' house. I burned THE GREATEST pissed-off CD ever created on Earth. For some reason, it is blank, starting at track 10. The 5 tracks that didn't take were the ones I really needed to hear. K can re-burn it for me, but not until Sunday. Ironically, the CD meant to be used as therapy for my rage has only added to it.
Ok, this one doubles as a Public Service Announcement. I went out with K on Monday night. To get away from my anger and pain. To try and unwind, get my mind off things, have fun, maybe flirt with some men. I thought it would be a good idea to pop a vicodin, just so I wouldn't have to deal for a few hours. I also picked up a pack of smokes. (Yes, I am that upset.) To improve my mood and make me relax. I ended up learning a VERY important mathematical equation: Vicodin + nicotine = barf. All in all, I barfed 3 times. Only the last two rounds made it to the bathroom. I am too embarrassed to say where the first round wound up.
Yes, I realize I just ended that sentence with a preposition. Well, to all of you who are annoyed by this, I have an interjection for you: Bite me!!!!! :) ha ha. Seriously, it is bugging me too. But not enough to go back and change it. Please bear with. Argh! I did it again!
The next most painful thing was that since K and I had to leave when I began feeling sick, we didn't stay out very long. Just an hour . Which is really annoying because I had on a gorgeous new pair of shoes and my hair and makeup looked good. We both looked good. So I wasted an outfit. And we didn't last long enough for the two cute guys to come over and talk to me. They were checking me out (according to K), and I had just made eye contact, complete with smiles. Then, right as we were leaving, a guy was offering K a shot. And she had to decline because I was the asshole who has to run to drugs in order to soothe her pain, and therefore, was barfing her brains out. (Hey, most people would have gotten drunk in this instance. You have your drugs, I have mine.)
The sad thing is, if I could go back and do it all over again, I probably would have done the same thing. Only, I would have given the cute guys my number before leaving for heaving.
But by far, the most painful thing in my life right now is very quiet: the silence of my cell phone and the realization that I may have gotten exactly what I asked for from him.
I have my annual review today. Should be awkward, yet virtually painless. I already saw the form, and it says I'm doing fine. Which is incredible to me, considering that I'd say that in any given week, I only do about 15 minutes of real, actual work. (Anyone get my movie reference?) So once it's over, I don't have to worry again for a year. Boss Lady hates them more than I do, so it shouldn't be any worse than ripping off a band-aid.
I got sunburned yesterday from being outside at the SC Peach Festival. It was about 4,000 degrees outside, and I thought Sammy and I might die of heat exhaustion. If it weren't for the peach ice cream in a waffle cone, I doubt I would be living to tell the tale. The cool thing is, my sunburn doesn't hurt. Although, maybe my rage is distracting those nerve endings...
GI-tract issues. Don't really need to say any more about that...it is probably from stress. Or vicodin.
Remember my cavity? Something isn't right about it, because I have tooth sensitivity. I can't eat on that side of my mouth. When I bite down, it hurts! It will probably be back to tha dentist for me...oh joy.
Total lack of appetite. This is a clear sign I am not happy.
Every person who has walked in here today apparently drank Stupid Juice for breakfast. Right after eating a big bowl of Annoy-ios. (Get it? Like Cheerios?) It's the breakfast of champions. I can't deal with morons when I'm pissed off. I imagine ripping their heads off, kind of like Ally McBeal-style.
I worked out on Sunday. (Good for relieving stress! But apparently not good enough!) However, my triceps still feel like they have been shredded. No amount of stretching seems to soothe them. And I don't want to take pain killers. Although, on second thought...
Shit, I just realized I left my smokes at home. Pisser.
Shit, I have a guilt trip for even having a pack of them in my possession. I promise this is only a temporary bad habit.
Last night, I was at K's parents' house. I burned THE GREATEST pissed-off CD ever created on Earth. For some reason, it is blank, starting at track 10. The 5 tracks that didn't take were the ones I really needed to hear. K can re-burn it for me, but not until Sunday. Ironically, the CD meant to be used as therapy for my rage has only added to it.
Ok, this one doubles as a Public Service Announcement. I went out with K on Monday night. To get away from my anger and pain. To try and unwind, get my mind off things, have fun, maybe flirt with some men. I thought it would be a good idea to pop a vicodin, just so I wouldn't have to deal for a few hours. I also picked up a pack of smokes. (Yes, I am that upset.) To improve my mood and make me relax. I ended up learning a VERY important mathematical equation: Vicodin + nicotine = barf. All in all, I barfed 3 times. Only the last two rounds made it to the bathroom. I am too embarrassed to say where the first round wound up.
Yes, I realize I just ended that sentence with a preposition. Well, to all of you who are annoyed by this, I have an interjection for you: Bite me!!!!! :) ha ha. Seriously, it is bugging me too. But not enough to go back and change it. Please bear with. Argh! I did it again!
The next most painful thing was that since K and I had to leave when I began feeling sick, we didn't stay out very long. Just an hour . Which is really annoying because I had on a gorgeous new pair of shoes and my hair and makeup looked good. We both looked good. So I wasted an outfit. And we didn't last long enough for the two cute guys to come over and talk to me. They were checking me out (according to K), and I had just made eye contact, complete with smiles. Then, right as we were leaving, a guy was offering K a shot. And she had to decline because I was the asshole who has to run to drugs in order to soothe her pain, and therefore, was barfing her brains out. (Hey, most people would have gotten drunk in this instance. You have your drugs, I have mine.)
The sad thing is, if I could go back and do it all over again, I probably would have done the same thing. Only, I would have given the cute guys my number before leaving for heaving.
But by far, the most painful thing in my life right now is very quiet: the silence of my cell phone and the realization that I may have gotten exactly what I asked for from him.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Pissed Off & Crazy Dog
I'm the one who is pissed off. I have some stuff going on in my personal life right now, and I don't want to get into it right here, right now. It has been going on for about a week, which is part of the reason why my posts have been so boring. Hopefully, I'll be able to talk about it more soon, when I am calm. I might even share an email with you...but let me just say that tonight I am going out with K. And there will be cigarettes and vicodin involved. I don't want to hear any crap from y'all, either. I don't get to drink alcohol. And chocolate isn't cutting it anymore. Goddammit, I need something!!!
Oh, if you are really nosy like me, give me your email address. I will email you Full Frontal VB, as long as you swear not to out me. I have to remain anonymous here!
But anyway, I really need to get my mind off of stuff, so here is a funny video my coworker sent me. This dog is crazy!!!
Oh, if you are really nosy like me, give me your email address. I will email you Full Frontal VB, as long as you swear not to out me. I have to remain anonymous here!
But anyway, I really need to get my mind off of stuff, so here is a funny video my coworker sent me. This dog is crazy!!!
Friday, June 30, 2006
Pics
Hey look! It's my feet! At the beach. I took this when I was at Folly Beach a few weeks ago. The water felt soooo good! Note my freakishly long toes. Actually, this angle makes my thighs look kinda big...
This is a shot I took while on a moving boat. Pretty good, huh? We had a nice sunset that night.
Just in case you are really bored and/or nosy, this is my kitchen. It is the only part of my apt that I don't like. Notice how there is no countertop. It is a kitchen designed for people who hate to cook, and therefore, have no kitchen equipment.
Here, you can finally see the back of me. That is my baby. He is very tired. I am thinking this would be a good avatar....what do you think?Ok, that is it for now. Just wanted to share some pics.
Note to self: take more interesting pictures.
Effing Thursday 13
I JUST typed this out. Then I did something and erased it ALL. Anyway, here is my Thursday 13. Late, as usual. Oh, and men probably aren't going to want to read this.
Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
Soo....I just realized that I'm supposed to notify people on the TT website whenever I do one of these. Oops. Oh well.
I was going to share some pics with y'all, but they haven't hit my email yet. I will try again in a little bit. Oh, and since it is Fun Friday today, here are some cool links:
The Duggar Family -- that weird family with like 13 kids. They have a website. Who knew.
Did you know you look like a celebrity? You can see which one you resemble here.
Oh and I so want to buy something from this site. I am weird because I think they are funny.
Happy weekends, everyone!!!!
 |
1. I. Can. Not. Get. Up. Must. Sleep. All. Day. 2. I have no interest in healthy eating. I want cheese, chocolate and Chik-fil-a. With a side of Oreos, Doritos and that cheese sauce at Mexican restaurants. And a bacon double cheeseburger. Don't even TRY to stand between me and my chocolate ice cream. 3. Seven zits appear overnight. They all hurt. 4. Road Rage? Check. 5. I turn into a total klutz. Spilling, falling, tripping. I make it all look easy. It is like stunt week for me. 6. I am Little Miss Negative. I am fat, stupid, fugly, boring, annoying, mean and I suck at my job. Really, I should be shot because I am a worthless human being. 7. I suddenly have only a rudimentary grasp of English. 8. My tits are killing me!!!! Where can I get a bra that is made of steel?? No jogging this week. None. 9. I look and feel like a puffed-up toad. 10. I spend 50% more time in the bathroom. 11. My brain is playing its own version of duck, duck goose: headache, headache, headache....MIGRAINE!!! 12. Any thinking over about a third grade level is just not feasible. 13. WHY am I crying? Why? No one would cry over this!!! 14. Everybody sucks. |
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
Soo....I just realized that I'm supposed to notify people on the TT website whenever I do one of these. Oops. Oh well.
I was going to share some pics with y'all, but they haven't hit my email yet. I will try again in a little bit. Oh, and since it is Fun Friday today, here are some cool links:
The Duggar Family -- that weird family with like 13 kids. They have a website. Who knew.
Did you know you look like a celebrity? You can see which one you resemble here.
Oh and I so want to buy something from this site. I am weird because I think they are funny.
Happy weekends, everyone!!!!
Thursday, June 29, 2006
3% and 9/11
There is something I want all of you to check out. It is a blog run by a guy who is trying to do a memorial for all the people who died in the 9/11 attacks. All you have to do is go to his blog and sign up, saying you will post about the victim on 9/11. He will email you a name of a victim. He even gives you a link for information about the person so you can learn about them.
Until then, you can subscribe to his RSS feed, or just check in periodically for updates. Last I looked, he had about 20% of the names taken. So there are a lot of names up for grabs. I think the grand total is 2,996. If you would like to just spread the word through your blog about this memorial, that would also be appreciated. His idea has to reach a lot of blogs!
On 9/11/06, the 5 year anniversary, the participants will post a tribute to their person. You can do whatever you want-- a poem, a song, or just a regular post. Be as creative as you like. All he asks is that you don't mention the terrorists--this is to remember the victims.
I really hope more people will sign up, because I think this is a really cool idea.
In other news... I just found out yesterday that I will be getting a 3% raise starting next month, and maybe a smidgen more if my annual review goes well. It won't be a lot of extra money, but it definitely helps with gas prices.
Another story I forgot to share: As I was driving to The Czarina's, I got a phone call from a school here in town, asking if I wanted to be interviewed for a media specialist position. While I don't know positively if this is the career route I want to go on, I decided it would be good experience, so I accepted.
They wanted me to interview on Monday. It was Thursday. Not much notice. And to boot, I knew I wouldn't be all that prepared or rested up since I would be at Czarina's between the invite and the interview. I sucked it up and went anyway. I was exhausted. But I made it through. They asked me a lot of really hard questions, like what sort of programs I would initiate, how I would decorate the library, how I would get parents more involved and how I would deal with students who aren't reading at grade level. I had no idea school librarians were in charge of all this stuff! I answered as best I could, considering I hadn't put all that much thought into the position.
The annoying part was, one of the people interviewing me was really rude! First of all, she is one of those people that gives the limp handshake. You know, the ones where they act like they don't want to touch you. They don't move their hands. Ugh, that is one of my biggest pet peeves. I instantly disliked her. Then, during the interview, she kept looking at the clock and staring out the window! Can you believe it? I mean, can't she just fake it for the whole half-hour I was there? Come on! I know interviews aren't the most interesting things in the world, but sheesh!
So it wasn't the best interview of my life, but it wasn't the worst, either. They said they would know by the end of the week. I would be very surprised if I were offered the position, even though I think the principal liked a lot of my answers. It would be a heck of a commute if I got it. And I don't know how much it pays, so that would have to be determined, too.
Until then, you can subscribe to his RSS feed, or just check in periodically for updates. Last I looked, he had about 20% of the names taken. So there are a lot of names up for grabs. I think the grand total is 2,996. If you would like to just spread the word through your blog about this memorial, that would also be appreciated. His idea has to reach a lot of blogs!
On 9/11/06, the 5 year anniversary, the participants will post a tribute to their person. You can do whatever you want-- a poem, a song, or just a regular post. Be as creative as you like. All he asks is that you don't mention the terrorists--this is to remember the victims.
I really hope more people will sign up, because I think this is a really cool idea.
In other news... I just found out yesterday that I will be getting a 3% raise starting next month, and maybe a smidgen more if my annual review goes well. It won't be a lot of extra money, but it definitely helps with gas prices.
Another story I forgot to share: As I was driving to The Czarina's, I got a phone call from a school here in town, asking if I wanted to be interviewed for a media specialist position. While I don't know positively if this is the career route I want to go on, I decided it would be good experience, so I accepted.
They wanted me to interview on Monday. It was Thursday. Not much notice. And to boot, I knew I wouldn't be all that prepared or rested up since I would be at Czarina's between the invite and the interview. I sucked it up and went anyway. I was exhausted. But I made it through. They asked me a lot of really hard questions, like what sort of programs I would initiate, how I would decorate the library, how I would get parents more involved and how I would deal with students who aren't reading at grade level. I had no idea school librarians were in charge of all this stuff! I answered as best I could, considering I hadn't put all that much thought into the position.
The annoying part was, one of the people interviewing me was really rude! First of all, she is one of those people that gives the limp handshake. You know, the ones where they act like they don't want to touch you. They don't move their hands. Ugh, that is one of my biggest pet peeves. I instantly disliked her. Then, during the interview, she kept looking at the clock and staring out the window! Can you believe it? I mean, can't she just fake it for the whole half-hour I was there? Come on! I know interviews aren't the most interesting things in the world, but sheesh!
So it wasn't the best interview of my life, but it wasn't the worst, either. They said they would know by the end of the week. I would be very surprised if I were offered the position, even though I think the principal liked a lot of my answers. It would be a heck of a commute if I got it. And I don't know how much it pays, so that would have to be determined, too.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Crazy Story
I finally replied to everyone's comments in the last two posts. Thanks to everyone for the well wishes and welcome backs. Before I launch into the crazy story, I have to post some something I forgot to mention in the last post.
I was checking my messages on the way home. My ex, The Big Ex, called me. We dated for two years and broke up almost 3 years ago. I was totally devastated at the time--I was very much in love, and he broke up with me out of nowhere. It wouldn't have worked out anyway--he was moving to Florida and going back to school. We have kept in touch somewhat, and I'm over all the hurt, but since I've started dating Repo, we haven't talked. So this was very unexpected. I was curious and worried that something bad had happened to him, so I called him back. No answer. I left a message. He called me back the next day, and it turns out he just wanted to catch up. And you know what? For the first time, I had no desire to talk to him. None. I wanted to get the hell off the phone ASAP. I made no effort to lengthen the conversation or get into anything really personal. I didn't mention Repo and didn't ask him about his dating life. It was really weird. I guess I must be officially over him 100%. Whew! I thought that would never happen.
I haven't told Repo about the call. I don't really see the point. There is nothing for him to worry about. It's a non-issue. I would never get back together with him, and really don't see the point in ever talking to him again. Do you think I should tell? I dunno. Maybe I should....(and no, I don't think Repo still reads my blog, in case you are wondering.)
Ok, on to the Crazy Story. And by crazy, I mean kinda scary. And gory. So take that for what it's worth.
So the P family was staying with us at Czarina's. Their oldest daughter, GP, had a crazy thing happen to her the night before coming over. She was out with a guy friend of hers and they were going out to the bars or something. They stopped at a gas station in Arlington, VA on the way to get smokes. They walk inside and see two people on the floor, covered in pools of their own blood. No joke. And there was a third guy leaning over them.
This third guy sees GP and her friend and splits. She thinks he was actually trying to help the victims, but was afraid he would be framed for the attempted murder, and so he ran away. (It would be really hard for one guy to stab two people multiple times. So I don't think anyone really thought he was the perpetrator.) GP and her friend start to help the two men who are bleeding to death from what looks like multiple stab wounds. GP grabbed a sweatshirt from the car to absorb the blood coming from one guy's chest. She had to apply pressure until the ambulance and police got there. This guy was in really bad shape. All he could do was look at her and say, "Thank you."
Meanwhile, her friend was applying pressure on the other guy's chest. In a random stroke of luck, it turns out that GP's friend is fluent in Spanish, which is the language the guy is speaking. They had a conversation while he was trying to help him. I don't know what they talked about, but I can only assume it was about his injuries or the crime.
Finally the 911 people arrive and are taking the two men to the hospital. They get statements from GP and her friend who were now literally up to their elbows in blood. They found out later that the guy GP was helping died on the way to the hospital. How sad is that? The last person you see is a total stranger who is trying to stop you from bleeding to death on the floor of a convenience store.
They think there must have been more than one criminal, because it would be really hard for one person to stab two people multiple times. I don't know if they have any suspects or anything, but according to what I have learned from Courtv, multiple stab wounds usually indicate a lot of anger towards the victim, so maybe it was some guys they knew. (Shut up, I am an armchair detective.) I mean, if you were going to rob a convenience store, you wouldn't bring a knife--you'd bring a gun. So I don't think that was the motive. I don't know if the victims were gas station employees or just customers.
GP said it was amazing how you can bond with a stranger in a situation like that. In just a few minutes, she said that she could feel a connection between all four of them. I guess when you get down to it, it is just one person trying to help another, which is the beauty of humanity, in my opinion.
GP said that the saddest thing about the whole event was that while they were trying to help these two men, several cars pulled into the parking lot, only to see what was going on and just drive away. It's really sad that we live in a country where more people aren't willing to help a stranger in a situation like that. It makes me depressed just to think about it. What if it was your brother, or father, or boyfriend or husband? Wouldn't you want someone to help them? I mean, regardless of the situation, no one deserves to die like that.
Of course, now GP and her friend will have to be interviewed and possibly even go to court as witnesses one day. So maybe we will learn more about it later. I just thought this was so crazy. It sounds like something from a tv show.
I was checking my messages on the way home. My ex, The Big Ex, called me. We dated for two years and broke up almost 3 years ago. I was totally devastated at the time--I was very much in love, and he broke up with me out of nowhere. It wouldn't have worked out anyway--he was moving to Florida and going back to school. We have kept in touch somewhat, and I'm over all the hurt, but since I've started dating Repo, we haven't talked. So this was very unexpected. I was curious and worried that something bad had happened to him, so I called him back. No answer. I left a message. He called me back the next day, and it turns out he just wanted to catch up. And you know what? For the first time, I had no desire to talk to him. None. I wanted to get the hell off the phone ASAP. I made no effort to lengthen the conversation or get into anything really personal. I didn't mention Repo and didn't ask him about his dating life. It was really weird. I guess I must be officially over him 100%. Whew! I thought that would never happen.
I haven't told Repo about the call. I don't really see the point. There is nothing for him to worry about. It's a non-issue. I would never get back together with him, and really don't see the point in ever talking to him again. Do you think I should tell? I dunno. Maybe I should....(and no, I don't think Repo still reads my blog, in case you are wondering.)
Ok, on to the Crazy Story. And by crazy, I mean kinda scary. And gory. So take that for what it's worth.
So the P family was staying with us at Czarina's. Their oldest daughter, GP, had a crazy thing happen to her the night before coming over. She was out with a guy friend of hers and they were going out to the bars or something. They stopped at a gas station in Arlington, VA on the way to get smokes. They walk inside and see two people on the floor, covered in pools of their own blood. No joke. And there was a third guy leaning over them.
This third guy sees GP and her friend and splits. She thinks he was actually trying to help the victims, but was afraid he would be framed for the attempted murder, and so he ran away. (It would be really hard for one guy to stab two people multiple times. So I don't think anyone really thought he was the perpetrator.) GP and her friend start to help the two men who are bleeding to death from what looks like multiple stab wounds. GP grabbed a sweatshirt from the car to absorb the blood coming from one guy's chest. She had to apply pressure until the ambulance and police got there. This guy was in really bad shape. All he could do was look at her and say, "Thank you."
Meanwhile, her friend was applying pressure on the other guy's chest. In a random stroke of luck, it turns out that GP's friend is fluent in Spanish, which is the language the guy is speaking. They had a conversation while he was trying to help him. I don't know what they talked about, but I can only assume it was about his injuries or the crime.
Finally the 911 people arrive and are taking the two men to the hospital. They get statements from GP and her friend who were now literally up to their elbows in blood. They found out later that the guy GP was helping died on the way to the hospital. How sad is that? The last person you see is a total stranger who is trying to stop you from bleeding to death on the floor of a convenience store.
They think there must have been more than one criminal, because it would be really hard for one person to stab two people multiple times. I don't know if they have any suspects or anything, but according to what I have learned from Courtv, multiple stab wounds usually indicate a lot of anger towards the victim, so maybe it was some guys they knew. (Shut up, I am an armchair detective.) I mean, if you were going to rob a convenience store, you wouldn't bring a knife--you'd bring a gun. So I don't think that was the motive. I don't know if the victims were gas station employees or just customers.
GP said it was amazing how you can bond with a stranger in a situation like that. In just a few minutes, she said that she could feel a connection between all four of them. I guess when you get down to it, it is just one person trying to help another, which is the beauty of humanity, in my opinion.
GP said that the saddest thing about the whole event was that while they were trying to help these two men, several cars pulled into the parking lot, only to see what was going on and just drive away. It's really sad that we live in a country where more people aren't willing to help a stranger in a situation like that. It makes me depressed just to think about it. What if it was your brother, or father, or boyfriend or husband? Wouldn't you want someone to help them? I mean, regardless of the situation, no one deserves to die like that.
Of course, now GP and her friend will have to be interviewed and possibly even go to court as witnesses one day. So maybe we will learn more about it later. I just thought this was so crazy. It sounds like something from a tv show.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
The Trip
I'm back. I've just been busy with work stuff. Yes, I realize I'm behind on reading people's blogs. I'm working on it. But in order to do so, I have to skim and lurk a lot because it's faster. Trust me, I'm out there.
Um...highlights. First off, I took no pictures. Please don't shoot me. As you will soon realize, there isn't much to see. Other than the pond behind the house, it's pretty boring. Peaceful and rural, but boring.
I had tried to warn K about The Czarina, her parties and staying at her house. It would be more work than play. And K would know no one other than me. I tried to tell her it wouldn't be much fun, but she still said she wanted to go. I was grateful for the company, so I didn't dissuade her as much as I probably should have. So we packed up, grabbed Sammy and picked up the 20 lbs. of BBQ, as requested by Czarina.
Since I had to pick up RP from Charleston before heading to Czarina's, four hours were added to my trip. So what was normally a 6 hour trip became a 10 hour trip. Not fun. But not terrible. For the first time, I had company with me in the car. It made it much more bearable. I had people to talk to and people to hand me stuff, which was nice.
Sammy slept and farted during the entire car ride.
We get to Czarina's, where she and my little sister, Smurf, greet us. We unpacked and were all sitting and relaxing in the living room. Czarina was telling us about my brother's dog, who peed on the rug a couple of weeks previously. She was still pretty pissed off about it. Right as she is telling us about this, Sammy proceeds to walk up to the chair I'm sitting in and lift his leg. He peed on her chair. Oops.
Aside from this bad first impression, she eventually grew to like Sammy.
I had forgotten that Czarina is a major cheapskate when it comes to air conditioning. The thermostat was set at 76 or higher, so I basically sweated like a buffalo the entire time. I think I took 7 cold showers in three days. Luckily, this didn't seem to bother anyone but me.
We were all pretty exhausted from driving all day, so we didn't do much the first night. The Czarina was in a pretty bad mood, due to the pre-party planning stress. K said she felt very intimidated, which was understandable. Czarina was at her frostiest. I told K she would calm down when her best friend arrived. (RP's mom is her best friend.)
The next day, I gave K a grand tour of my hometown (pop. 17,000). The main retail outlet in my hometown is a huge furniture warehouse. There are also a couple of cutesy preppy clothing stores-- not really our style. We did some window shopping, but since neither one of us has the space or money for major furniture purchases or a love affair with Izod, we were pretty much bored after an hour. We were hot, so we decided to hit DQ. We ordered two medium sized milkshakes, which surprisingly cost us almost $8! After getting over our sticker shock, we went to Wally World. Czarina needed some party supplies. Then we went home. Later on, RP's mom arrived, so Czarina's mood improved greatly.
K and I took Smurf to go see Click that night. It was ok. Not Adam Sandler's best. The morality issue was really beaten like a dead horse. But it does beg the question: What would you pause, FF, rewind, skip or stop in your life? Hmmm...food for thought.
The next morning was spent helping Czarina clean and get ready for the party. Not fun, but necessary. I tried to warn K that we would probably be doing some cleaning on this trip, but she said that was fine. I also tried to warn her that this was not going to be a fun family get-together kind of party. 99% of the guests were going to be more interested in discussing politics than pop culture. Again, K said this would be ok. (Czarina and I don't think she had much fun. We are both harboring guilt trips about it.)
The rest of the P family arrived, along with my brothers, Fat Dog and Fungus. Fat Dog brought his dog, Newton. He and Sammy were instant best friends and proceeded to take turns humping each other for the next 13 hours straight. This was very entertaining for all of us. They also explored the woods together, gathering ticks and chasing critters. If it weren't for Sammy's squeaky toy, he probably would have run away! I had a hard time finding him a couple of times during the weekend. But he had a good time.
People started arriving around 2pm. All in all, about 55 of my parents' closest friends came. Notice I said parents' friends. As the oldest kid there, I knew or at least remembered most of them, but even I struggled with some names and faces. And they all wanted to ask me about politics, law or my dad's career. I don't know much about any of these topics, but I do know enough to get by. Kinda. So I faked my way through every conversation. This is very stressful, because I'm sure they were all thinking, "His own daughter doesn't know about that?" I felt like a fraud.
If it wasn't the third degree about politics, then it was the old men who would corner me, talking about really really boring stuff. I would get stuck listening to them bitch about politics or academia for 45 minutes before I could mumble an excuse and make my escape.
For the first time in my life, I prayed that someone would ask me why I was still single.
Wasn't this supposed to be a party? Can't they all just get drunk and leave me alone? Isn't there someone here who just wants to talk about college football or Hogan Knows Best?
At one point, about two hours into these intellectual conversations, my brain started to hurt. So I escaped and went downstairs where K, my siblings and RP's siblings were. It didn't seem fair--I had to play co-hostess, and they were down in the basement, having fun. They had beers and cigarettes, they were playing pool and laughing. There was no conversation about anything requiring a PhD. But unfortunately, I was the oldest "kid", and somehow, age 27 left me straddling the "kiddie" room and the adult cocktail party going on upstairs. I felt I had a duty, but longed to have some fun.
"I swear, if I have to have one more boring conversation or answer another question about Dad's books, I'm going to scream," I said as I grabbed GP's cigarette and took two long drags. (GP is RP's sister.) They laughed. I told them they didn't know what I was going through up there. Then I went back up. At the very least, by being upstairs I could make sure we would be eating on time--I was starved!
Finally, at 6:30 we ate. BBQ, baked beans, coleslaw, potato chips and iced tea. And cake for dessert. Yum! (Except for the coleslaw and tea, that is.) Sammy was apparently fed lots of BBQ at some point during the evening. Don't ask how I know this. After dinner, most of the guests left. It was mostly just the P family and a couple of old family friends who hung around, drinking and lighting fireworks.
By 9pm, K and I were bushed. Plus, we knew we would be driving back the next morning. So we went to bed early, much to the dismay of the other "kids". After trying to sleep through the fireworks show, we were awakened by Fungus. 5 times. He kept opening up the door to our room and turning on the light and saying, "Y'all don't want to hang out?" We would have gotten up to strangle him if we had had any energy. We settled for locking the door.
In the morning, I went downstairs for my morning cup of coffee. One of my favorite things about my mom is that she understands the importance of having lots of coffee, ready to drink, every morning without fail. She didn't let me down. As I was sipping and studying the disaster zone that was formerly the kitchen, I realized something gritty was under my feet. And all over the countertop. And all in the sink. It was pretty much everywhere. Using some rudimentary investigative skills, I determined that some drunk person had tried to open a bottle of pepper blend and had somehow managed to sprinkle its entire contents everywhere. It was like a pepper parade had been thrown. I chuckled to myself as I figured it looked like a Fungus job.
Czarina knew I had to hit the road. She packed up the leftover BBQ and cake for us (YESSS!) as she explained that there would have been more leftovers if my drunken brothers hadn't had a late night feast. "That's ok," I replied. "They have to clean up all this mess!"
K and I showered and packed. I took Sammy out to potty before we got in the car. He went straight for the pile of vomit in the yard and began to try and lick it. Great. Another Fungus job, I am sure. After stopping Sammy, we grabbed RP and hit the road. It was another 10 hour trip, complete with diet coke and Combos. Only this time, it was raining, so we had no relief from Sammy's farts.
Um...highlights. First off, I took no pictures. Please don't shoot me. As you will soon realize, there isn't much to see. Other than the pond behind the house, it's pretty boring. Peaceful and rural, but boring.
I had tried to warn K about The Czarina, her parties and staying at her house. It would be more work than play. And K would know no one other than me. I tried to tell her it wouldn't be much fun, but she still said she wanted to go. I was grateful for the company, so I didn't dissuade her as much as I probably should have. So we packed up, grabbed Sammy and picked up the 20 lbs. of BBQ, as requested by Czarina.
Since I had to pick up RP from Charleston before heading to Czarina's, four hours were added to my trip. So what was normally a 6 hour trip became a 10 hour trip. Not fun. But not terrible. For the first time, I had company with me in the car. It made it much more bearable. I had people to talk to and people to hand me stuff, which was nice.
Sammy slept and farted during the entire car ride.
We get to Czarina's, where she and my little sister, Smurf, greet us. We unpacked and were all sitting and relaxing in the living room. Czarina was telling us about my brother's dog, who peed on the rug a couple of weeks previously. She was still pretty pissed off about it. Right as she is telling us about this, Sammy proceeds to walk up to the chair I'm sitting in and lift his leg. He peed on her chair. Oops.
Aside from this bad first impression, she eventually grew to like Sammy.
I had forgotten that Czarina is a major cheapskate when it comes to air conditioning. The thermostat was set at 76 or higher, so I basically sweated like a buffalo the entire time. I think I took 7 cold showers in three days. Luckily, this didn't seem to bother anyone but me.
We were all pretty exhausted from driving all day, so we didn't do much the first night. The Czarina was in a pretty bad mood, due to the pre-party planning stress. K said she felt very intimidated, which was understandable. Czarina was at her frostiest. I told K she would calm down when her best friend arrived. (RP's mom is her best friend.)
The next day, I gave K a grand tour of my hometown (pop. 17,000). The main retail outlet in my hometown is a huge furniture warehouse. There are also a couple of cutesy preppy clothing stores-- not really our style. We did some window shopping, but since neither one of us has the space or money for major furniture purchases or a love affair with Izod, we were pretty much bored after an hour. We were hot, so we decided to hit DQ. We ordered two medium sized milkshakes, which surprisingly cost us almost $8! After getting over our sticker shock, we went to Wally World. Czarina needed some party supplies. Then we went home. Later on, RP's mom arrived, so Czarina's mood improved greatly.
K and I took Smurf to go see Click that night. It was ok. Not Adam Sandler's best. The morality issue was really beaten like a dead horse. But it does beg the question: What would you pause, FF, rewind, skip or stop in your life? Hmmm...food for thought.
The next morning was spent helping Czarina clean and get ready for the party. Not fun, but necessary. I tried to warn K that we would probably be doing some cleaning on this trip, but she said that was fine. I also tried to warn her that this was not going to be a fun family get-together kind of party. 99% of the guests were going to be more interested in discussing politics than pop culture. Again, K said this would be ok. (Czarina and I don't think she had much fun. We are both harboring guilt trips about it.)
The rest of the P family arrived, along with my brothers, Fat Dog and Fungus. Fat Dog brought his dog, Newton. He and Sammy were instant best friends and proceeded to take turns humping each other for the next 13 hours straight. This was very entertaining for all of us. They also explored the woods together, gathering ticks and chasing critters. If it weren't for Sammy's squeaky toy, he probably would have run away! I had a hard time finding him a couple of times during the weekend. But he had a good time.
People started arriving around 2pm. All in all, about 55 of my parents' closest friends came. Notice I said parents' friends. As the oldest kid there, I knew or at least remembered most of them, but even I struggled with some names and faces. And they all wanted to ask me about politics, law or my dad's career. I don't know much about any of these topics, but I do know enough to get by. Kinda. So I faked my way through every conversation. This is very stressful, because I'm sure they were all thinking, "His own daughter doesn't know about that?" I felt like a fraud.
If it wasn't the third degree about politics, then it was the old men who would corner me, talking about really really boring stuff. I would get stuck listening to them bitch about politics or academia for 45 minutes before I could mumble an excuse and make my escape.
For the first time in my life, I prayed that someone would ask me why I was still single.
Wasn't this supposed to be a party? Can't they all just get drunk and leave me alone? Isn't there someone here who just wants to talk about college football or Hogan Knows Best?
At one point, about two hours into these intellectual conversations, my brain started to hurt. So I escaped and went downstairs where K, my siblings and RP's siblings were. It didn't seem fair--I had to play co-hostess, and they were down in the basement, having fun. They had beers and cigarettes, they were playing pool and laughing. There was no conversation about anything requiring a PhD. But unfortunately, I was the oldest "kid", and somehow, age 27 left me straddling the "kiddie" room and the adult cocktail party going on upstairs. I felt I had a duty, but longed to have some fun.
"I swear, if I have to have one more boring conversation or answer another question about Dad's books, I'm going to scream," I said as I grabbed GP's cigarette and took two long drags. (GP is RP's sister.) They laughed. I told them they didn't know what I was going through up there. Then I went back up. At the very least, by being upstairs I could make sure we would be eating on time--I was starved!
Finally, at 6:30 we ate. BBQ, baked beans, coleslaw, potato chips and iced tea. And cake for dessert. Yum! (Except for the coleslaw and tea, that is.) Sammy was apparently fed lots of BBQ at some point during the evening. Don't ask how I know this. After dinner, most of the guests left. It was mostly just the P family and a couple of old family friends who hung around, drinking and lighting fireworks.
By 9pm, K and I were bushed. Plus, we knew we would be driving back the next morning. So we went to bed early, much to the dismay of the other "kids". After trying to sleep through the fireworks show, we were awakened by Fungus. 5 times. He kept opening up the door to our room and turning on the light and saying, "Y'all don't want to hang out?" We would have gotten up to strangle him if we had had any energy. We settled for locking the door.
In the morning, I went downstairs for my morning cup of coffee. One of my favorite things about my mom is that she understands the importance of having lots of coffee, ready to drink, every morning without fail. She didn't let me down. As I was sipping and studying the disaster zone that was formerly the kitchen, I realized something gritty was under my feet. And all over the countertop. And all in the sink. It was pretty much everywhere. Using some rudimentary investigative skills, I determined that some drunk person had tried to open a bottle of pepper blend and had somehow managed to sprinkle its entire contents everywhere. It was like a pepper parade had been thrown. I chuckled to myself as I figured it looked like a Fungus job.
Czarina knew I had to hit the road. She packed up the leftover BBQ and cake for us (YESSS!) as she explained that there would have been more leftovers if my drunken brothers hadn't had a late night feast. "That's ok," I replied. "They have to clean up all this mess!"
K and I showered and packed. I took Sammy out to potty before we got in the car. He went straight for the pile of vomit in the yard and began to try and lick it. Great. Another Fungus job, I am sure. After stopping Sammy, we grabbed RP and hit the road. It was another 10 hour trip, complete with diet coke and Combos. Only this time, it was raining, so we had no relief from Sammy's farts.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Early Thursday 13
I will be leaving to go to The Czarina's in the morning, so I will post this very quickly since I'm at work and we are closing in 10 minutes!
13 Things About My Trip Home
1. I am bringing Sammy and K with me.
2. We have to go to Charleston to pick up RP, a friend of the family. He goes to The Citadel and his family is very very close to mine. So he is going with us, too. His 'rents are paying for my gas (YESSSS!).
3. I also have to pick up 20 pounds of pulled pork BBQ at 7 am before I hit the road. I live in the heart of BBQ land, so Czarina asked me to bring the good stuff. Thanks, Sticky Fingers! (They are very delish, and you can order stuff from their website.)
4. Why so much BBQ? Because we are having a big party on Saturday. About 60 people. Mostly friends of the family. We decided to honor my dad with an annual BBQ on his birthday every year. It was partially my idea-- I don't want his birthday to be sad for me every year. So we decided to have an annual party near his b-day.
5. I am so excited to see all of these people! Many of them are friends of my parents who have known me since I was in diapers. Lots of them are godparents, kids I grew up with or just people I love. My extended family isn't that big, so this is as close as it gets to a family reunion for me.
6. Sammy will meet his (doggy) cousin, Newton the Jack Russell. Cross your fingers that they get along ok. Sammy will probably hump him.
7. I am looking forward to my official road trip food: Wendy's, Laffy Taffy, Combos, diet Coke, apples, granola bars and string cheese. Of course, you know as well as I do what will get eaten first...
8. I will be out of the loop while I am there: my cell doesn't work, Czarina only has dial-up. I'll try to stay in touch, but no promises. Repo will have to rely on me to initiate contact, as he is scared shitless of The Czarina. As well he should be....
9. Potential activities include: taking K to see the house where I grew up (an old farmhouse), playing 17 games of Scattergories with Smurf, watching far too much TV, eating lots of ice cream (the only junk food Czarina keeps around), doing crossword puzzles over morning coffee, watching the pond and its various wildlife and going to the grocery store every day. Oh, and reading.
10. Yes, I will take pictures and share. Czarina truly lives in nowhere's land. It is rur-al. I'm talking beavers, bears and bobcats in the backyard, here, peeps.
11. I still haven't packed. Crap.
12. I have two new CDs to listen to on the way up. I always burn new ones before road trips.
13. I'll be back on Sunday! Wish me luck. I always hit traffic jams on I-95 on the way home.
13 Things About My Trip Home
1. I am bringing Sammy and K with me.
2. We have to go to Charleston to pick up RP, a friend of the family. He goes to The Citadel and his family is very very close to mine. So he is going with us, too. His 'rents are paying for my gas (YESSSS!).
3. I also have to pick up 20 pounds of pulled pork BBQ at 7 am before I hit the road. I live in the heart of BBQ land, so Czarina asked me to bring the good stuff. Thanks, Sticky Fingers! (They are very delish, and you can order stuff from their website.)
4. Why so much BBQ? Because we are having a big party on Saturday. About 60 people. Mostly friends of the family. We decided to honor my dad with an annual BBQ on his birthday every year. It was partially my idea-- I don't want his birthday to be sad for me every year. So we decided to have an annual party near his b-day.
5. I am so excited to see all of these people! Many of them are friends of my parents who have known me since I was in diapers. Lots of them are godparents, kids I grew up with or just people I love. My extended family isn't that big, so this is as close as it gets to a family reunion for me.
6. Sammy will meet his (doggy) cousin, Newton the Jack Russell. Cross your fingers that they get along ok. Sammy will probably hump him.
7. I am looking forward to my official road trip food: Wendy's, Laffy Taffy, Combos, diet Coke, apples, granola bars and string cheese. Of course, you know as well as I do what will get eaten first...
8. I will be out of the loop while I am there: my cell doesn't work, Czarina only has dial-up. I'll try to stay in touch, but no promises. Repo will have to rely on me to initiate contact, as he is scared shitless of The Czarina. As well he should be....
9. Potential activities include: taking K to see the house where I grew up (an old farmhouse), playing 17 games of Scattergories with Smurf, watching far too much TV, eating lots of ice cream (the only junk food Czarina keeps around), doing crossword puzzles over morning coffee, watching the pond and its various wildlife and going to the grocery store every day. Oh, and reading.
10. Yes, I will take pictures and share. Czarina truly lives in nowhere's land. It is rur-al. I'm talking beavers, bears and bobcats in the backyard, here, peeps.
11. I still haven't packed. Crap.
12. I have two new CDs to listen to on the way up. I always burn new ones before road trips.
13. I'll be back on Sunday! Wish me luck. I always hit traffic jams on I-95 on the way home.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Last Thursday's 13
Yes! Another 3-post day! Now my readers can get their VB fix!
I was on vacation. I don't feel like looking up the code.
13 Annoying Things
Don't you hate it when...
1. You put a dirty fork in the dishwasher, only to realize the dishes are clean. Now you have re-dirtied all the silverware.
2. You drop something you need into the toilet. Or you drop something you don't need into the toilet, but it's too big to flush. Either way, it's time to go fishing.
3. You go to put on the top you want to wear, only to realize there is a stain on it.
4. Your deoderant conks out halfway through your day.
5. You think no one is looking, only to realize someone is.
6. You are already late, and you spill your purse all over God's creation. There are tampons and ATM receipts and other things you can't just leave laying on the ground.
7. You have lost the receipt. For something that costs a decent amount of money. So now you are stuck with it. It stares you in the face every day, saying, "Ha ha! You're stupid! You should have known not to spend your money on something like me, anyway!"
8. You move, and forget that you have packed your library books. A month and a half later, you find them.
9. You drop it and it breaks. When you are trying to sweep it up, you cut your foot. It won't stop bleeding. You are now late. Plus, you have to go buy another thing like the one you just shattered.
10. You're in a major hurry and the store is out of what you need. Of course, you made a special trip to that store just for that item.
11. A bird poops on your head.
12. You forgot their birthday, but they remembered yours. And give you a nice gift.
13. The drawer under the stove falls off its track, and you can't get the damn drawer back in right, no matter how much you try, cry, plead or scream.
These things happen to everyone, right? It's not just me, running around, cussing up a storm??
I was on vacation. I don't feel like looking up the code.
13 Annoying Things
Don't you hate it when...
1. You put a dirty fork in the dishwasher, only to realize the dishes are clean. Now you have re-dirtied all the silverware.
2. You drop something you need into the toilet. Or you drop something you don't need into the toilet, but it's too big to flush. Either way, it's time to go fishing.
3. You go to put on the top you want to wear, only to realize there is a stain on it.
4. Your deoderant conks out halfway through your day.
5. You think no one is looking, only to realize someone is.
6. You are already late, and you spill your purse all over God's creation. There are tampons and ATM receipts and other things you can't just leave laying on the ground.
7. You have lost the receipt. For something that costs a decent amount of money. So now you are stuck with it. It stares you in the face every day, saying, "Ha ha! You're stupid! You should have known not to spend your money on something like me, anyway!"
8. You move, and forget that you have packed your library books. A month and a half later, you find them.
9. You drop it and it breaks. When you are trying to sweep it up, you cut your foot. It won't stop bleeding. You are now late. Plus, you have to go buy another thing like the one you just shattered.
10. You're in a major hurry and the store is out of what you need. Of course, you made a special trip to that store just for that item.
11. A bird poops on your head.
12. You forgot their birthday, but they remembered yours. And give you a nice gift.
13. The drawer under the stove falls off its track, and you can't get the damn drawer back in right, no matter how much you try, cry, plead or scream.
These things happen to everyone, right? It's not just me, running around, cussing up a storm??
Anonymous Rant
What is up with the Anonymous Assholes? I don't understand why people even take the time to leave comments like this:
"I just stumbled across your blog. To be honest, you sound like a fuckin' asshole. One of those princesses in an apartment building whose shit doesn't stink. Your shit may not stink but your personality sounds like it does."
Seriously, who are these people, anyway? I know I'm not the first person to get comments like this, but it really is annoying. And dammit, I'm going to vent about it. Very few of us ever actually fight back at these anonymous commenters. IMHO, it's gone on long enough. I'm tired of ignoring them.
I'm really wondering what is the point of taking the time to say something mean and undeserved to a stranger. And why they are always anonymous. Even if they used their blogger name, I still don't know who in the hell they are. These people are pussies. Anyone who is afraid of me must be! I can't kill a honeybee without screaming and crying and calling for backup! So, Mr. or Ms. Anonymous, please explain yourself, because I'm confused as to where you are getting off saying shit like this to me or anyone else. Until then, I leave you with the following message:
Dear Anonymous Asshole,
I don't know what your problem is, but if you don't like what you are reading here, just move on to your next victim. I'm sorry that you don't have a life and do nothing but create problems for other people. It must be hard having so much hatred for strangers. If you are bitter about something, then maybe you need to start a blog of your own, because it sounds like you have some unresolved anger issues. Maybe you should put some of that energy to good use and leave people alone. Did you just get dumped or something? What's with the hostility? If I have harmed you, I apologize. I don't see how I could have done so, but I can assure you it was not intentional.
It was really a tongue-in-cheek post. I think my neighbors are generally nice people. Just a little weird and/or sad. Saying or thinking this doesn't make me a "fucking asshole." And I'm sorry, but I'm not familiar with this demographic you are referring to: the princesses who live in apartment complexes who think their shit doesn't stink. I have never observed such a phenomena. Was I supposed to get a free ego trip when I signed my lease? Are apartment girls of royal descent? Are they being tagged and studied in their natural habitat? I certainly hope so. We can't have women with self esteem, honesty or a sense of humor running around!
If you are in the habit of leaving comments like this on random blogs you encounter, it will only be a matter of time until this comes back and bites you in the ass. One day it will be your sister's blog or your friend's blog. Or perhaps your coworker's blog. Karma catches up with everyone eventually. Would you say something like this to a friend of yours? Then why are you saying it to someone who only knows you by the comments you leave? It is just encouraging me to be judgemental of you. Blogs are meant to bring people together, not apart. I'm sorry that you fail to see this and feel the need to be so nasty. I hope you were just in a bad mood and aren't like this all the time to everyone. If you are, I ask that you go elsewhere when you want to vent your frustrations on innocent bystanders.
If you knew me, which you obviously don't, you'd know that I'm a generally nice person who never means any harm in her posts. I try to be honest and open about what I am thinking. But no, I am not perfect and probably piss off the occasional reader. I won't apologize for that, because this is my blog and I live in a country that believes in free speech and the right to one's own opinion. I can assure you, I'm usually a really friendly person who does indeed have stinky shit, among other imperfections. Just please don't tell my boyfriend, because I've convinced him my shit smells like roses. Thanks! -- Love, VB
"I just stumbled across your blog. To be honest, you sound like a fuckin' asshole. One of those princesses in an apartment building whose shit doesn't stink. Your shit may not stink but your personality sounds like it does."
Seriously, who are these people, anyway? I know I'm not the first person to get comments like this, but it really is annoying. And dammit, I'm going to vent about it. Very few of us ever actually fight back at these anonymous commenters. IMHO, it's gone on long enough. I'm tired of ignoring them.
I'm really wondering what is the point of taking the time to say something mean and undeserved to a stranger. And why they are always anonymous. Even if they used their blogger name, I still don't know who in the hell they are. These people are pussies. Anyone who is afraid of me must be! I can't kill a honeybee without screaming and crying and calling for backup! So, Mr. or Ms. Anonymous, please explain yourself, because I'm confused as to where you are getting off saying shit like this to me or anyone else. Until then, I leave you with the following message:
Dear Anonymous Asshole,
I don't know what your problem is, but if you don't like what you are reading here, just move on to your next victim. I'm sorry that you don't have a life and do nothing but create problems for other people. It must be hard having so much hatred for strangers. If you are bitter about something, then maybe you need to start a blog of your own, because it sounds like you have some unresolved anger issues. Maybe you should put some of that energy to good use and leave people alone. Did you just get dumped or something? What's with the hostility? If I have harmed you, I apologize. I don't see how I could have done so, but I can assure you it was not intentional.
It was really a tongue-in-cheek post. I think my neighbors are generally nice people. Just a little weird and/or sad. Saying or thinking this doesn't make me a "fucking asshole." And I'm sorry, but I'm not familiar with this demographic you are referring to: the princesses who live in apartment complexes who think their shit doesn't stink. I have never observed such a phenomena. Was I supposed to get a free ego trip when I signed my lease? Are apartment girls of royal descent? Are they being tagged and studied in their natural habitat? I certainly hope so. We can't have women with self esteem, honesty or a sense of humor running around!
If you are in the habit of leaving comments like this on random blogs you encounter, it will only be a matter of time until this comes back and bites you in the ass. One day it will be your sister's blog or your friend's blog. Or perhaps your coworker's blog. Karma catches up with everyone eventually. Would you say something like this to a friend of yours? Then why are you saying it to someone who only knows you by the comments you leave? It is just encouraging me to be judgemental of you. Blogs are meant to bring people together, not apart. I'm sorry that you fail to see this and feel the need to be so nasty. I hope you were just in a bad mood and aren't like this all the time to everyone. If you are, I ask that you go elsewhere when you want to vent your frustrations on innocent bystanders.
If you knew me, which you obviously don't, you'd know that I'm a generally nice person who never means any harm in her posts. I try to be honest and open about what I am thinking. But no, I am not perfect and probably piss off the occasional reader. I won't apologize for that, because this is my blog and I live in a country that believes in free speech and the right to one's own opinion. I can assure you, I'm usually a really friendly person who does indeed have stinky shit, among other imperfections. Just please don't tell my boyfriend, because I've convinced him my shit smells like roses. Thanks! -- Love, VB
VH1 Vacation
Ok, spammers have driven me to the limit. Sorry, but I had to turn on the word verifier. I'll talk about that nasty comment in my next post. On to my vacation:
I had the most uneventful vacation ever. I did nothing but eat, sleep, watch TV, read and shop. It was nice, but I don't feel like I've accomplished anything. I hate that feeling.
As you probably know, I had absolutely no business shopping.
Which means I absolutely had to shop. I hadn't gone shopping in at least 4 months. Apparently, I cannot do cold turkey or else I have a relapse:
7 tshirts
2 pairs of shoes
1 new straw purse
1 pair of earrings
$40 worth of Bath & Body Works stuff (stupid semi-annual sale!)
$40 worth of Clinique (I was out of necessities! Really!)
1 new lipgloss (because 52 aren't enough)
3 candles from Yankee candle (I got Greenhouse. It smells freakin' awesome. Like plants. I love planty smells.)
Now, to my credit, some of this stuff were replacements. Some of my tshirts were ancient (as in, 1996 ancient), my old straw purse unraveled and I had some shoes that were falling apart. So not all of this was rampant, credit-abusing shopping.
And you know you are due for shopping when you intentionally throw away all the receipts because you are thinking, "Dammit, I am not having buyer's remorse on any of this! I'm not going to return this stuff because I don't want to. And that's that!"
I need help.
I managed to develop a serious addiction to VH1 over vacation. I think I've seen every episode of VH1 All Access. And this season's Hogan Knows Best. (Does anyone else love that show?) What I want to know is, what happened to Behind the Music? That was a great show. I miss it.
Other than that, I did a little cooking. I took a nap with Sammy every day. I went to the gym. I hung out with Repo, Brunette and K. I went out to dinner a few times. Navy Guy's deployment was delayed a week and so he came into town this weekend and went out to dinner last night with me, K and Repo. Other than that, my vacay was a big yawn.
Repo is good. It's going well. He actually turned to me the other day and said, "You've been doing a lot for me lately. I need to do something for you. How about I take you out to dinner?" [Insert shock and awe here.] I swear the man can read my mind. Last night we had so much fun. We drove all over town, drinking milkshakes and looking at cars. (He's looking to buy a new-ish car soon.) Then he took me over to where his house is. He owns it, but he rents it out so he can make extra money on the side. He's so good with money. Stuff like that wouldn't even occur to me. And even if it did, I'd probably mess it up. But it was nice to finally see something that I keep hearing about. His house is so cute.
Re: The job fair. On a whim, I checked out the teacher's job fair. It was pretty frustrating. First of all, there were about 9.4 million people crammed into a building meant to only hold about 1 million people. So it was really hot and stuffy. Then no one would give me the time of day because I'm not certified. One lady actually handed back my resume! I couldn't believe it. It was very discouraging to look at the instructions for how to get certified. It's a 3 year process, involving courses which I'd have to pay for all by myself. On top of taking about a $5,000 paycut. How do people do this??? I mean, are they kidding? After looking at the payscales and certification process, I thought, "I'm sorry, but you have to convince me to quit my current job!" And I left soon after.
I was very discouraged and feeling unsure of myself and depressed about my career path. I went to Repo's house where he let me cry on his shoulder. He gave me a pep talk. I felt better. Boyfriend points scored: 20
So I went to the library to get some books which I'm hoping will help me out. My favorite one is entitled something along the lines of, "I don't know what I want to do, but I know it's not THIS." (I'm reading that one first.)
But before I could check anything out, I had to pay my library fines: $20.40. How humiliating: the librarian with an outrageous library fine.
Speaking of the library...I applied for a (much needed) part-time job at the local public library. The manager is a very cool lady who adores me. Now, considering that I used to work for this library, and left on good terms, you'd think I would have an easy time getting a job there. Well, apparently not. The job has been posted and re-posted and even advertised in the newspaper, and I haven't gotten so much as a phone call. Just a postcard confirming the receipt of my application. I'm puzzled. Any theories?
I had the most uneventful vacation ever. I did nothing but eat, sleep, watch TV, read and shop. It was nice, but I don't feel like I've accomplished anything. I hate that feeling.
As you probably know, I had absolutely no business shopping.
Which means I absolutely had to shop. I hadn't gone shopping in at least 4 months. Apparently, I cannot do cold turkey or else I have a relapse:
7 tshirts
2 pairs of shoes
1 new straw purse
1 pair of earrings
$40 worth of Bath & Body Works stuff (stupid semi-annual sale!)
$40 worth of Clinique (I was out of necessities! Really!)
1 new lipgloss (because 52 aren't enough)
3 candles from Yankee candle (I got Greenhouse. It smells freakin' awesome. Like plants. I love planty smells.)
Now, to my credit, some of this stuff were replacements. Some of my tshirts were ancient (as in, 1996 ancient), my old straw purse unraveled and I had some shoes that were falling apart. So not all of this was rampant, credit-abusing shopping.
And you know you are due for shopping when you intentionally throw away all the receipts because you are thinking, "Dammit, I am not having buyer's remorse on any of this! I'm not going to return this stuff because I don't want to. And that's that!"
I need help.
I managed to develop a serious addiction to VH1 over vacation. I think I've seen every episode of VH1 All Access. And this season's Hogan Knows Best. (Does anyone else love that show?) What I want to know is, what happened to Behind the Music? That was a great show. I miss it.
Other than that, I did a little cooking. I took a nap with Sammy every day. I went to the gym. I hung out with Repo, Brunette and K. I went out to dinner a few times. Navy Guy's deployment was delayed a week and so he came into town this weekend and went out to dinner last night with me, K and Repo. Other than that, my vacay was a big yawn.
Repo is good. It's going well. He actually turned to me the other day and said, "You've been doing a lot for me lately. I need to do something for you. How about I take you out to dinner?" [Insert shock and awe here.] I swear the man can read my mind. Last night we had so much fun. We drove all over town, drinking milkshakes and looking at cars. (He's looking to buy a new-ish car soon.) Then he took me over to where his house is. He owns it, but he rents it out so he can make extra money on the side. He's so good with money. Stuff like that wouldn't even occur to me. And even if it did, I'd probably mess it up. But it was nice to finally see something that I keep hearing about. His house is so cute.
Re: The job fair. On a whim, I checked out the teacher's job fair. It was pretty frustrating. First of all, there were about 9.4 million people crammed into a building meant to only hold about 1 million people. So it was really hot and stuffy. Then no one would give me the time of day because I'm not certified. One lady actually handed back my resume! I couldn't believe it. It was very discouraging to look at the instructions for how to get certified. It's a 3 year process, involving courses which I'd have to pay for all by myself. On top of taking about a $5,000 paycut. How do people do this??? I mean, are they kidding? After looking at the payscales and certification process, I thought, "I'm sorry, but you have to convince me to quit my current job!" And I left soon after.
I was very discouraged and feeling unsure of myself and depressed about my career path. I went to Repo's house where he let me cry on his shoulder. He gave me a pep talk. I felt better. Boyfriend points scored: 20
So I went to the library to get some books which I'm hoping will help me out. My favorite one is entitled something along the lines of, "I don't know what I want to do, but I know it's not THIS." (I'm reading that one first.)
But before I could check anything out, I had to pay my library fines: $20.40. How humiliating: the librarian with an outrageous library fine.
Speaking of the library...I applied for a (much needed) part-time job at the local public library. The manager is a very cool lady who adores me. Now, considering that I used to work for this library, and left on good terms, you'd think I would have an easy time getting a job there. Well, apparently not. The job has been posted and re-posted and even advertised in the newspaper, and I haven't gotten so much as a phone call. Just a postcard confirming the receipt of my application. I'm puzzled. Any theories?
Sunday, June 11, 2006
The Neighbors
I have been meaning to share about my Neighbors. There's nothing like an apartment complex to bring out the weirdos.
Next door to us is The Crackhead. We all avoid her like the plague. She comes off as either really drunk or on some heavy painkillers--or both. I can say that because she is very much like me when I'm on vicodin. Anyway, she's like this all day, every day. She is really nosy and will talk your ear off about her personal life. She never remembers anyone's names. I am going to start telling her a different name every time she asks me what my name is, just so I can mess with her.
She is going through a divorce right now. Surprised? Me neither. I'd put her age at early 50s, but due to her lifelong inebriated stupor, I'm sure she's much younger.
She is a total space cadet. She will leave her car doors open, or her groceries by the front door. For hours. We almost stole her groceries once because we honestly thought she'd never miss them. How funny would that have been? We have seen her sitting in her car, fiddling with her hair for 45 minutes at a time. At 3 am. When she's obviously going to go to bed soon. It makes no sense.
We always know she's going somewhere because she is will be carrying cigarettes, coffee and a big bottle of medicine.
She always asks me if I have been fighting with my boyfriend, because she can hear yelling through the walls. I haven't been fighting with anyone and neither has K, so it's tempting to reply, "No, Ma'am. Those are just the voices in your head you are hearing."
Creepy Nice Guy lives across the breezeway from us. I think he has a girlfriend. But I really don't know what she looks like, because she doesn't come over all that much. I think she is the *ahem* bigger girl that comes over sometimes. She's really friendly and nice. She seems normal. I have never seen another guy at his apartment. I am wondering if the gaggle of girls (including the girl I believe is the girlfriend) who are there sometimes are all her friends?
Anyway, he is really quiet. He's nice enough--he loves Sammy. He makes small talk if I happen to run into him on the sidewalk. But there is something about him that gives me the creeps. He's quiet. Too quiet. He will sit on his patio, smoking cigarettes. But he is so quiet, you will walk right by him and not even know that he is staring at you. He knows my name. He knows my dog's name. Why not say hi? It gives me the heebie-jeebies. He will do this at all times of the day or night. He only talks if he's on the sidewalk. Once he's on his porch, he turns into Creepy Silent Guy.
My other neighbor is Hot Neighbor. Repo is jealous of him, I think. This is stupid to me, because I don't give him grief when he goes to strip clubs. Hot Neighbor (who is now "Only Kinda Cute Neighbor" to Repo) is no threat at all to Repo. He is just nice to look at. That's it. I don't really wish I was single when I see him. Sheesh. Besides, Hot Neigbor has no idea I am alive. He's never even petted Sammy or asked me what my name is. Anyone that doesn't pet my dog is deemed Uncool in my book, anyway. So he's hot, yet uncool. This is not enough for him to be a threat to Repo, who adores Sammy. HN's out of town a lot (not that I keep track of his whereabouts or anything, I swear!) so I think he must have a long-distance girlfriend. Case closed.
Sweet! 5:30. I can go home and REALLY begin my vacation. Bye! Have good weeks, everyone! Wish me luck at the Job Fair tomorrow!
Next door to us is The Crackhead. We all avoid her like the plague. She comes off as either really drunk or on some heavy painkillers--or both. I can say that because she is very much like me when I'm on vicodin. Anyway, she's like this all day, every day. She is really nosy and will talk your ear off about her personal life. She never remembers anyone's names. I am going to start telling her a different name every time she asks me what my name is, just so I can mess with her.
She is going through a divorce right now. Surprised? Me neither. I'd put her age at early 50s, but due to her lifelong inebriated stupor, I'm sure she's much younger.
She is a total space cadet. She will leave her car doors open, or her groceries by the front door. For hours. We almost stole her groceries once because we honestly thought she'd never miss them. How funny would that have been? We have seen her sitting in her car, fiddling with her hair for 45 minutes at a time. At 3 am. When she's obviously going to go to bed soon. It makes no sense.
We always know she's going somewhere because she is will be carrying cigarettes, coffee and a big bottle of medicine.
She always asks me if I have been fighting with my boyfriend, because she can hear yelling through the walls. I haven't been fighting with anyone and neither has K, so it's tempting to reply, "No, Ma'am. Those are just the voices in your head you are hearing."
Creepy Nice Guy lives across the breezeway from us. I think he has a girlfriend. But I really don't know what she looks like, because she doesn't come over all that much. I think she is the *ahem* bigger girl that comes over sometimes. She's really friendly and nice. She seems normal. I have never seen another guy at his apartment. I am wondering if the gaggle of girls (including the girl I believe is the girlfriend) who are there sometimes are all her friends?
Anyway, he is really quiet. He's nice enough--he loves Sammy. He makes small talk if I happen to run into him on the sidewalk. But there is something about him that gives me the creeps. He's quiet. Too quiet. He will sit on his patio, smoking cigarettes. But he is so quiet, you will walk right by him and not even know that he is staring at you. He knows my name. He knows my dog's name. Why not say hi? It gives me the heebie-jeebies. He will do this at all times of the day or night. He only talks if he's on the sidewalk. Once he's on his porch, he turns into Creepy Silent Guy.
My other neighbor is Hot Neighbor. Repo is jealous of him, I think. This is stupid to me, because I don't give him grief when he goes to strip clubs. Hot Neighbor (who is now "Only Kinda Cute Neighbor" to Repo) is no threat at all to Repo. He is just nice to look at. That's it. I don't really wish I was single when I see him. Sheesh. Besides, Hot Neigbor has no idea I am alive. He's never even petted Sammy or asked me what my name is. Anyone that doesn't pet my dog is deemed Uncool in my book, anyway. So he's hot, yet uncool. This is not enough for him to be a threat to Repo, who adores Sammy. HN's out of town a lot (not that I keep track of his whereabouts or anything, I swear!) so I think he must have a long-distance girlfriend. Case closed.
Sweet! 5:30. I can go home and REALLY begin my vacation. Bye! Have good weeks, everyone! Wish me luck at the Job Fair tomorrow!
Are those Double Ds?
Yup. I'm at work. Again. So far, I've been at work each day of my vacation. It's really not a big deal unless I start thinking about it a lot. Let's move on to more interesting stuff before I get pissed off.
My shirt smells like purfume. Purfume that isn't mine. It's weird. I mean, it smells good, just foreign. I wonder what I was doing last time I wore this shirt. ( I don't wash something unless it's been worn a zillion times, has something on it or smells really bad. Sue me.)
Repo's friends were in town this weekend for a wedding. So I got to meet a bunch of them. They are a wild crew, let me tell ya. Friday night I didn't go to bed until 4am. We hung out with Repo's friend B and his girlfriend. They are cool. It turns out that B and Repo have this whole fashion competition going on. They both love to buy colored button-down shirts and matching ties. Most of the evening they kept describing potential wedding outfits to each other, trying to decide who had the coolest outfit in mind. They even had a debate about whether or not a lavender tie would match a pink shirt.
I swear, sometimes I think my boyfriend is gay.
The next day (yesterday), after working, I hung out at the pool with K for a while. Normally, I am pasty white because I don't want to look old before my time, but on an impulse, I laid out with her. I'm on vacation, goddammit, I thought. After an hour, I looked like a lobster. Not bad, but definitely pink. I don't think my stomach has seen the light of day in like 4 years. No joke. I forgot how good a tan looks, actually. I feel slightly hot-babe-ish. Not to mention slightly thinner. Aaaaah, the magic of melanoma.
The wedding was yesterday evening. Repo wasn't allowed to bring a guest, so I just told him I'd meet up with him after the reception. They were all planning to go to the bars later. Since I had lots of time to get ready, I made a nice dinner (whole-wheat pasta, Prego, shrimp and feta) and decided to get dressed up. I figured everyone would be in suits and ties, so I should look the part. I decided to audition my new red dress. The way it's designed, you can't wear a bra with it. So it's kinda low-cut. It did a good job at masking my new tan lines, too. Bonus: it's really really comfortable. It was so nice to look nice. I hadn't really gotten gussied up in a while. And if I do say so myself, I looked pretty smokin'. Repo agreed. I think this might be his new favorite outfit on me.
I got to the hotel where the reception was. I called Repo to see which room he was in, but then I figured that the loud group of people in the parking lot were probably with me. I was right. I looked over and waved to him.
Repo shuffled me around, yelling to all his friends, "Hey! Come here! I want you to meet my girlfriend!" He was so cute, running around after everyone, making sure I could meet them. He scored some points, I gotta say. He kept telling everyone how beautiful I was. I had to take it with a grain of salt since he'd been drinking. But hey, a compliment is a compliment.
We went inside to where the reception was wrapping up. Just to collect everyone for the after-party. I didn't want to go in because I wasn't invited and I was wearing red. Everyone reassured me that it was ok. And the happy couple left within minutes of us going inside. But I still felt like a wedding crasher. Oops. The bride probably saw me and thought, "Who in the hell does this bitch think she is?"
After much hemming and hawing, we decided to just stay in B's hotel room and party there rather than go the bars. Repo's friends are pretty funny and gave me a hard time. Actually, they all took turns giving each other a hard time, too.
I was put on the spot a couple of times by his (highly intoxicated) friend, Chief. Chief had been drinking for 11 hours straight at this point, so he was at the point that he didn't care what he said or who he offended. He kept asking me questions about my boobs. Then he asked Repo about my nipples and what sexual positions we prefer. I wanted to hide. I'm usually pretty good about taking jokes, but I was starting to get a little self-conscious. I wouldn't have felt that way if I knew everyone in the room, but I had just met all of them and now had to discuss my breasts. I was beginning to regret my wardrobe decision. But I think I was a pretty good sport. I like his friends, despite their drunken interrogations. I told Repo he owes me for that, though.
Since he and I were exhausted, we went home by 1:30. I didn't get up until noon. I am still exhuasted. And I'm not wearing that dress around drunk people ever again!
My shirt smells like purfume. Purfume that isn't mine. It's weird. I mean, it smells good, just foreign. I wonder what I was doing last time I wore this shirt. ( I don't wash something unless it's been worn a zillion times, has something on it or smells really bad. Sue me.)
Repo's friends were in town this weekend for a wedding. So I got to meet a bunch of them. They are a wild crew, let me tell ya. Friday night I didn't go to bed until 4am. We hung out with Repo's friend B and his girlfriend. They are cool. It turns out that B and Repo have this whole fashion competition going on. They both love to buy colored button-down shirts and matching ties. Most of the evening they kept describing potential wedding outfits to each other, trying to decide who had the coolest outfit in mind. They even had a debate about whether or not a lavender tie would match a pink shirt.
I swear, sometimes I think my boyfriend is gay.
The next day (yesterday), after working, I hung out at the pool with K for a while. Normally, I am pasty white because I don't want to look old before my time, but on an impulse, I laid out with her. I'm on vacation, goddammit, I thought. After an hour, I looked like a lobster. Not bad, but definitely pink. I don't think my stomach has seen the light of day in like 4 years. No joke. I forgot how good a tan looks, actually. I feel slightly hot-babe-ish. Not to mention slightly thinner. Aaaaah, the magic of melanoma.
The wedding was yesterday evening. Repo wasn't allowed to bring a guest, so I just told him I'd meet up with him after the reception. They were all planning to go to the bars later. Since I had lots of time to get ready, I made a nice dinner (whole-wheat pasta, Prego, shrimp and feta) and decided to get dressed up. I figured everyone would be in suits and ties, so I should look the part. I decided to audition my new red dress. The way it's designed, you can't wear a bra with it. So it's kinda low-cut. It did a good job at masking my new tan lines, too. Bonus: it's really really comfortable. It was so nice to look nice. I hadn't really gotten gussied up in a while. And if I do say so myself, I looked pretty smokin'. Repo agreed. I think this might be his new favorite outfit on me.
I got to the hotel where the reception was. I called Repo to see which room he was in, but then I figured that the loud group of people in the parking lot were probably with me. I was right. I looked over and waved to him.
Repo shuffled me around, yelling to all his friends, "Hey! Come here! I want you to meet my girlfriend!" He was so cute, running around after everyone, making sure I could meet them. He scored some points, I gotta say. He kept telling everyone how beautiful I was. I had to take it with a grain of salt since he'd been drinking. But hey, a compliment is a compliment.
We went inside to where the reception was wrapping up. Just to collect everyone for the after-party. I didn't want to go in because I wasn't invited and I was wearing red. Everyone reassured me that it was ok. And the happy couple left within minutes of us going inside. But I still felt like a wedding crasher. Oops. The bride probably saw me and thought, "Who in the hell does this bitch think she is?"
After much hemming and hawing, we decided to just stay in B's hotel room and party there rather than go the bars. Repo's friends are pretty funny and gave me a hard time. Actually, they all took turns giving each other a hard time, too.
I was put on the spot a couple of times by his (highly intoxicated) friend, Chief. Chief had been drinking for 11 hours straight at this point, so he was at the point that he didn't care what he said or who he offended. He kept asking me questions about my boobs. Then he asked Repo about my nipples and what sexual positions we prefer. I wanted to hide. I'm usually pretty good about taking jokes, but I was starting to get a little self-conscious. I wouldn't have felt that way if I knew everyone in the room, but I had just met all of them and now had to discuss my breasts. I was beginning to regret my wardrobe decision. But I think I was a pretty good sport. I like his friends, despite their drunken interrogations. I told Repo he owes me for that, though.
Since he and I were exhausted, we went home by 1:30. I didn't get up until noon. I am still exhuasted. And I'm not wearing that dress around drunk people ever again!
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Meme Stolen from K
Got this from K's Myspace page. She is the best roommate ever. I love her. Because she lets me gank stuff from her blog.
Have You Ever...
Taken a picture naked?
No, but a nippled slipped out once. Semi-intentionally. (I was sending the photos to my boyfriend at the time).
Danced in front of your mirror naked?
Yes, but only until my boobs started hurting.
Told a lie?
Yes. But not very well. So I don't do it anymore. Now I'm like George Washington.
Had a one night stand?
Uh...no comment.
Been in a fist fight?
OMG, no way. I am the biggest wuss ever.
Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back?
Hasn't everyone? It is the worst pain ever.
Been arrested?
No, unfortunately I am somewhat of a goody-goody.
Fooled around in your parents house?
In their house, in their car, in their bed....(it seemed like a good idea at the time, but now it grosses me out. A lot.)
Ditched school to have sex?
Never. Goody goody.
Slept in a bed with a member of the same sex..
Yes, but only for sleepover purposes. All very G-rated. Except for that one time when we had a pillow fight in our underwear and made out afterwards. Kidding.
Seen someone die?
Yes, my dad. Very surreal and scary.
Kissed a picture?
Yes. But not since like 7th grade.
Slept in until 3pm?
Only if I were very sick or hungover (back in the day)
Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?
Not since I was a kid. I used to do it with my brothers and we would argue about what the clouds looked like.
Played dress up?
Every time I go out!
Fallen asleep at work/school?
Never at work, often at school.
Touched a snake?
Yes. Once is enough.
Ran a red light? Yes even though I am a big hypocrite. It is very dangerous and causes lots of accidents.
Had detention? again, Goody Goody-ish.
Been in a car accident?
At least 4 times.
Pole danced?
Ooh! No, but good idea!
Been lost?
Yes, but only when people give me bad directions. Then I look at the map and figure it out on my own. Some people can't give directions.
Sang karaoke?
Yes. Usually Al Green or B-52s. Or Madonna.
Done something you told yourself you wouldn't?
Um, all the time. Life would be pretty boring if I didn't. Then I'd be hard-core Goody Goody. That's no fun.
Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?
Yes. Ouch.
Caught a snowflake on your tongue?
Yes. Again, once is enough. I love hot weather.
Kissed in the rain?
Actually, I don't think I've ever done this. Another good idea.
Sang in the shower?
All the time!
Ever gone to school without underwear?
Once I went to school without a bra on. Seventh grade. Don't ask me how I forgot. I'm a dumbass.
Sat on a roof top?
Yes. Probably to chuck stuff at people below.
Played chicken?
I play it in every relationship I've ever been in. Relationships are a series of Chicken Competitions, I think.
Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?
No, which is ironic because I'm one of the few people who wouldn't care all that much. I'd probably laugh and then get the instigator wet!
Broken a bone?
Yes, my left metatarsal. (foot) It's funny, because it aches right before it starts raining. No joke.
Mooned/flashed someone?
I can't believe I have never done this. Well, not to a stranger. Just a boyfriend once.
Had sex with your socks on?
There is nothing sexy about socks. They are totally "verboten" in the bedroom. I will stop the show to make the guy take them off.
Slept naked?
Yes. I would do it every night, but now I have a roommate, so it doesn't seem appropriate. Plus, I worry that if the house were to catch fire, I'd be running out onto the parking lot naked. In front of firemen. Actually....now that I think about it, that wouldn't be too bad...
Played a prank on someone?
This is something I need to do more often. I'm sure I have, but I don't recall the last time.
Felt like killing someone?
Yes. It was probably a man. Or The Czarina.
Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry?
No, apparently I am incapable of encouraging any sort of emotional outpouring from anyone with a Y chromosome.
Cried over someone?
Hello, I do this all the time. If I'm tired or hormonal, I will be cranky and over-analyze everything. I will invent all these ideas in my head where Repo actually hates me. And I start the waterworks. This is, obviously, annoying and frustrating for him. So Repo has set up "No Crying Zones" to get me to stop. He'll say, "This is a No Crying Zone! You can't cry here!" It makes me laugh. Then I stop crying. So it works. He's awesome.
Had sex more than 10 times in one day?
Yup! I think we made it to 12 actually...and no, it wasn't Repo.
Had/Have a dog?
YES!!! Sammy Baby!!!
Been in a band or played an instrument?
Violin. 10 years. I was in the orchestra. Even the Band Geeks were cool to us.
Taken more than 10 shots of alcohol?
If I ever did, I don't remember...
Shot a gun?
Yes. And everyone in my family is a decent shot, so don't piss us off! Note: just because I know how to shoot a gun doesn't mean I am comfortable being around them. They make me nervous.
Played strip poker?
I don't think so. But I probably should....
Have You Ever...
Taken a picture naked?
No, but a nippled slipped out once. Semi-intentionally. (I was sending the photos to my boyfriend at the time).
Danced in front of your mirror naked?
Yes, but only until my boobs started hurting.
Told a lie?
Yes. But not very well. So I don't do it anymore. Now I'm like George Washington.
Had a one night stand?
Uh...no comment.
Been in a fist fight?
OMG, no way. I am the biggest wuss ever.
Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back?
Hasn't everyone? It is the worst pain ever.
Been arrested?
No, unfortunately I am somewhat of a goody-goody.
Fooled around in your parents house?
In their house, in their car, in their bed....(it seemed like a good idea at the time, but now it grosses me out. A lot.)
Ditched school to have sex?
Never. Goody goody.
Slept in a bed with a member of the same sex..
Yes, but only for sleepover purposes. All very G-rated. Except for that one time when we had a pillow fight in our underwear and made out afterwards. Kidding.
Seen someone die?
Yes, my dad. Very surreal and scary.
Kissed a picture?
Yes. But not since like 7th grade.
Slept in until 3pm?
Only if I were very sick or hungover (back in the day)
Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?
Not since I was a kid. I used to do it with my brothers and we would argue about what the clouds looked like.
Played dress up?
Every time I go out!
Fallen asleep at work/school?
Never at work, often at school.
Touched a snake?
Yes. Once is enough.
Ran a red light? Yes even though I am a big hypocrite. It is very dangerous and causes lots of accidents.
Had detention? again, Goody Goody-ish.
Been in a car accident?
At least 4 times.
Pole danced?
Ooh! No, but good idea!
Been lost?
Yes, but only when people give me bad directions. Then I look at the map and figure it out on my own. Some people can't give directions.
Sang karaoke?
Yes. Usually Al Green or B-52s. Or Madonna.
Done something you told yourself you wouldn't?
Um, all the time. Life would be pretty boring if I didn't. Then I'd be hard-core Goody Goody. That's no fun.
Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?
Yes. Ouch.
Caught a snowflake on your tongue?
Yes. Again, once is enough. I love hot weather.
Kissed in the rain?
Actually, I don't think I've ever done this. Another good idea.
Sang in the shower?
All the time!
Ever gone to school without underwear?
Once I went to school without a bra on. Seventh grade. Don't ask me how I forgot. I'm a dumbass.
Sat on a roof top?
Yes. Probably to chuck stuff at people below.
Played chicken?
I play it in every relationship I've ever been in. Relationships are a series of Chicken Competitions, I think.
Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?
No, which is ironic because I'm one of the few people who wouldn't care all that much. I'd probably laugh and then get the instigator wet!
Broken a bone?
Yes, my left metatarsal. (foot) It's funny, because it aches right before it starts raining. No joke.
Mooned/flashed someone?
I can't believe I have never done this. Well, not to a stranger. Just a boyfriend once.
Had sex with your socks on?
There is nothing sexy about socks. They are totally "verboten" in the bedroom. I will stop the show to make the guy take them off.
Slept naked?
Yes. I would do it every night, but now I have a roommate, so it doesn't seem appropriate. Plus, I worry that if the house were to catch fire, I'd be running out onto the parking lot naked. In front of firemen. Actually....now that I think about it, that wouldn't be too bad...
Played a prank on someone?
This is something I need to do more often. I'm sure I have, but I don't recall the last time.
Felt like killing someone?
Yes. It was probably a man. Or The Czarina.
Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry?
No, apparently I am incapable of encouraging any sort of emotional outpouring from anyone with a Y chromosome.
Cried over someone?
Hello, I do this all the time. If I'm tired or hormonal, I will be cranky and over-analyze everything. I will invent all these ideas in my head where Repo actually hates me. And I start the waterworks. This is, obviously, annoying and frustrating for him. So Repo has set up "No Crying Zones" to get me to stop. He'll say, "This is a No Crying Zone! You can't cry here!" It makes me laugh. Then I stop crying. So it works. He's awesome.
Had sex more than 10 times in one day?
Yup! I think we made it to 12 actually...and no, it wasn't Repo.
Had/Have a dog?
YES!!! Sammy Baby!!!
Been in a band or played an instrument?
Violin. 10 years. I was in the orchestra. Even the Band Geeks were cool to us.
Taken more than 10 shots of alcohol?
If I ever did, I don't remember...
Shot a gun?
Yes. And everyone in my family is a decent shot, so don't piss us off! Note: just because I know how to shoot a gun doesn't mean I am comfortable being around them. They make me nervous.
Played strip poker?
I don't think so. But I probably should....
Setting The Record Straight
Just in case you are as bored as I am and you Google me, you need to know that the following people are not me:
This VB (Anyone who knows me personally will laugh when they see what this girl's about! Same name, yet my total opposite!) is not me--she appears to be brunette, for Pete's sake.
This VB isn't me either. Although some people think I am part Asian, I assure you I am 100% Honkey. Plus, I am not all that into photography.
Although I am quite fond of my boobs, I can most definitely assure you that I am not a topless model from the 1950s. [Warning: this link is not appropriate for work or children.]
I did not just die in March. I am not from Nebraska. Please don't call me "Virgie".
But I did learn that there is a song about me. And I must say, I am flattered.
This was kinda fun. Anyone else have funny Google hits?
This VB (Anyone who knows me personally will laugh when they see what this girl's about! Same name, yet my total opposite!) is not me--she appears to be brunette, for Pete's sake.
This VB isn't me either. Although some people think I am part Asian, I assure you I am 100% Honkey. Plus, I am not all that into photography.
Although I am quite fond of my boobs, I can most definitely assure you that I am not a topless model from the 1950s. [Warning: this link is not appropriate for work or children.]
I did not just die in March. I am not from Nebraska. Please don't call me "Virgie".
But I did learn that there is a song about me. And I must say, I am flattered.
This was kinda fun. Anyone else have funny Google hits?
Back-up Plan
Since I'm stuck at work while I'm supposed to be on my vacation (see below), I will now proceed to blog whatever the hell I want because I am really pissed off. Deal.
Last night I was home alone. Since I was having one of my bi-monthly freakouts about job/money/career issues, Repo was sweet enough to come over and calm me down. Again. (We didn't go out until later.)
We were talking about retirement and investing, etc. He asked me why I wasn't on track to buy a house any time soon. He already has one and is looking to buy a second one by the end of the year. I told him that aside from the fact that making gigantic purchases freaks me out, it would be admitting defeat. He looked puzzled. So I explained to him that it's part of my Back-Up Plan. The alternate lifestyle I will lead in case I never get married. Since I'm 27 and most of my friends are married (or at least divorced or engaged), I have to realize: It might not happen for me. It is a possibility that I will be an old maid. And the sooner I plan for it, the better it will be when I finally face reality. So I have thought of all the fun stuff I'd like to do just in case.
Do you have a contingency plan in case you don't get married? I do. It goes something like this:
I wait until around age 40 to buy a house. This is because I really view buying a house as something you do when you are married. So to buy one now feels like I am admitting defeat. Silly, I know. Plus, I figure by then I will have a set career and be financially stable enough to pull it off. Right now, that isn't really possible unless I totally eliminate all fun money in my budget. This is not an option.
I will own at least 6 dogs, all of varying breeds and sizes. I am not a fan of cats, so I would just become a dog lady. I will love and adore them and adopt strays on the side of the road in addition to saving pound puppies and/or rescue purebreds.
I may or may not be a foster mom. I've always loved kids, and since I wouldn't be having any of my own, this would be the next best thing. Also, there is something about orphan kids that just tugs at my heartstrings. If I'm ever First Lady, my platform will be about adoption reform. This country is really messed up in that way, I think.
(This is my favorite part) Since I will be single, it really doesn't matter what I look like, so I will allow myself to get as plump as I desire. Most weight gain will come from ice cream, my own cooking and baking. I will become an awesome cook and throw dinner parties all the time. Playing hostess is one of my favorite things to do.
Since I get to keep all my income for myself, I will have enough money to buy that red convertible I've always wanted and take a few real vacations (like, the kinds that make your friends jealous). And living alone means that my makeup and shopping budget won't be compromised. I can buy as many shoes and as much Clinique as I want! Woo-hoo!
Actually...this is sounding pretty good. Maybe I won't get married, after all. I mean, why not avoid diapers, right? Now, if only I can break the news to The Czarina...
Last night I was home alone. Since I was having one of my bi-monthly freakouts about job/money/career issues, Repo was sweet enough to come over and calm me down. Again. (We didn't go out until later.)
We were talking about retirement and investing, etc. He asked me why I wasn't on track to buy a house any time soon. He already has one and is looking to buy a second one by the end of the year. I told him that aside from the fact that making gigantic purchases freaks me out, it would be admitting defeat. He looked puzzled. So I explained to him that it's part of my Back-Up Plan. The alternate lifestyle I will lead in case I never get married. Since I'm 27 and most of my friends are married (or at least divorced or engaged), I have to realize: It might not happen for me. It is a possibility that I will be an old maid. And the sooner I plan for it, the better it will be when I finally face reality. So I have thought of all the fun stuff I'd like to do just in case.
Do you have a contingency plan in case you don't get married? I do. It goes something like this:
I wait until around age 40 to buy a house. This is because I really view buying a house as something you do when you are married. So to buy one now feels like I am admitting defeat. Silly, I know. Plus, I figure by then I will have a set career and be financially stable enough to pull it off. Right now, that isn't really possible unless I totally eliminate all fun money in my budget. This is not an option.
I will own at least 6 dogs, all of varying breeds and sizes. I am not a fan of cats, so I would just become a dog lady. I will love and adore them and adopt strays on the side of the road in addition to saving pound puppies and/or rescue purebreds.
I may or may not be a foster mom. I've always loved kids, and since I wouldn't be having any of my own, this would be the next best thing. Also, there is something about orphan kids that just tugs at my heartstrings. If I'm ever First Lady, my platform will be about adoption reform. This country is really messed up in that way, I think.
(This is my favorite part) Since I will be single, it really doesn't matter what I look like, so I will allow myself to get as plump as I desire. Most weight gain will come from ice cream, my own cooking and baking. I will become an awesome cook and throw dinner parties all the time. Playing hostess is one of my favorite things to do.
Since I get to keep all my income for myself, I will have enough money to buy that red convertible I've always wanted and take a few real vacations (like, the kinds that make your friends jealous). And living alone means that my makeup and shopping budget won't be compromised. I can buy as many shoes and as much Clinique as I want! Woo-hoo!
Actually...this is sounding pretty good. Maybe I won't get married, after all. I mean, why not avoid diapers, right? Now, if only I can break the news to The Czarina...
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