Thursday, May 12, 2011

After Exams...

I feel way more relaxed now.  Like I can finally breathe and it's all going to be good.

Admittedly, the minor injuries sustained in my car accident (which, every time I describe it to someone in person, I realize exactly how serious it was and could have been) are a bit of a dampener on all of it, but at least I was able to make my exams.

Mostly right now, my scabs itch because they're dry and peel-y looking and I really want to take care of it, but that's probably not a good thing.  My bruises are turning a nasty greenish purple color and they look gnarly.  But again, on the plus side, I'm alive and have nothing worse than some sore spots.

But yes, I brought my scores up to at least Bs in every class that posts grades on Blackboard.  My history teacher doesn't so I have no idea how I did.  I'll find out on the 16th.  Tomorrow, GL is graduating from the community college we attend, so I plan on going to that.  I think in a round about way she's pretty much inviting me to have dinner with her family, because she's giving me all of the information to do so.  The only thing is that I'm really used to needing to be asked and invited outright.  It's kind of funny that she does this kind of thing, asking things in round-about ways, because she gets so irritated when other people do it.  But whatever, if I find out where they're eating, I'll attend dinner as well as the graduation.  I also will probably want to know where, exactly, graduation is.  Because at the moment, I just know around when the time is.

As Dr. Evil might say: "Throw me a frickin' bone here, Scott!"  Geeze, Louise.

Perhaps I'll have another post for you later, or perhaps I'll take a nap.  That worked out well yesterday.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Well that was exciting...

Don't let my cool, calm and collected internet demeanor fool you.  I'm still really hopped up on adrenaline.

You see, I was just involved in a 1 car, several tree-branches accident.  I think I frightened the poor guys working on the road, and I know I scared my parents.  I'm alright, so far.  A little sore and I've got some nasty bruises and scrapes, but nothing seems to be broken or anything.  I'm debating on not going to my other exam though.  I keep crying too, which is actually rather annoying, though completely logical if you think about it.  GL is coming over soon, and I think we'll probably be heading to her place at some point.  Hopefully she won't talk me out of skipping my other exam.  I'd rather not inconvenience any more people than I have to.  I'm already having to make up the one exam tomorrow morning, and we're down a car because I'm pretty sure I totalled my van, and we don't really have a whole lot of free money for this kind of stuff.

I'm really glad I'm not more hurt, considering the damage done to the poor van.

Dear Og, we hardly knew ye.

Actually, I lied, we did know ye, very well these years?  Damn, I thought it was longer than that...

But yes, I've got some really kick-ass bruises on my left arm, a couple scrapes on my hands, and my chin's busted up pretty good, but I don't think anything's really badly hurt.  I hope not, anyway.  I'm trying not to take too many pain killers because I don't want to mask anything getting worse, so I took half my normal dosage and I'm drinking water.

Scared the living daylights out of me.  Obviously someone was watching over me, for which I am eternally grateful.

Nothing exciting ever happened to me for the longest time, now I'd really rather my life go back to normal and boring, please, okay, thank you.

Until Next Time, Dear Reader,

A Whole Weekend

I waited the whole weekend to tell you of my escapades, in order to have a longer (and hopefully more interesting) post for you!

Let's see...The rest of Friday was spent...Well...Where on earth did I leave off?  The room I was in was getting closed, so I'd had to leave.  I waited for dear GL so we could take care of her last few things she needed to do.  I decided not to try and see if my last class of the day was meeting because, really, the chances of anyone showing up for that class, the last class of the last day of the semester, were slim to none.  I've the exam for that class today.  EXTRANEOUS INFORMATION!!

So we headed to her house, but since her toilet was borked, we stopped at the Sheetz so we could go the bathroom one last time.  We ended up seeing her roommate drive into the driveway as we were getting the trashcan, and apparently this same roommate had driven drunk.  I don't know exactly how safe I feel with this, but seeing as how this roommate will not be interacting with me for a very long time, I'll get over it.

GL and Roommate shared a beer while roommate packed up her things to leave for her parents' house for the weekend, I'm assuming so she could have a working toilet, but whatever the reason, it was nice that she was gone.  I'm not really a big fan of her.

Did I mention that at this point the ceiling had come down?  Yeah, that had happened that morning.  Apparently it was the plumber but we didn't know this until Saturday.

So I spent all evening with GL and it was fun.  Then I went home at around...damn I wish my phone would give me dates and times for longer than the day they're sent...Ugh...
Anyway, I went home.  That was the end of Friday.

NOW!  for Saturday, I was awakened at close to ten so I could drive LS to her make-up dance class, and I had forgotten why Mom and Dad weren't around, but I remembered that it was because Dad plays hockey and there was a tournament and Mom wanted to go and watch him play.  So LS and I were left to our own devices for a good portion of the day.  So I took her to dance, had about an hour and a half to myself, then went back out to get her, came back so she could change her clothes, went back out to eat at one of the three Macado's around here (If you don't know what a macado's is, it's ok.  They serve a lot of sandwiches and have lots of strange objects and artefacts everywhere).  After Macado's, we were full of yummy delicious food, but were wanting to do other things, so we went to the little outdoor mall area, shopped at the bookstore, then tried on shoes we can't afford at a shoe-store, and finally ended up at the local smoothie shop.

Generally this would make for a rather boring sounding day, but I helped LS get in contact with a cute boy she likes, and got Mom a smashing Mother's Day present.  All in all very productive.

At this point we were exhausted so we picked up and headed home.  We managed to beat Mom and Dad home by only a few minutes, so we could hide the present but not really do much about wrapping it.  We gave the present to Mom that night with three bows taped to the top.  It was the most amazing StarWars pop-up book.  Seriously.  And then I needed to be She-Ra, princess of Power, so I left to go to GL's house and take care of that.

Except I'm too weak to have done anything, so we waited for her friend CJ (this is actually his name.  I don't know anything else about him except that he likes watching Top Gear) to show up, because he was coming along soon.  We went to Lowe's, and bought all of her Mother's Day presents, then grabbed some Jimmy John's.  We went back to her house, and watched Family Guy and pretended like we didn't have to pee because we really didn't want to have to go into the barn to do it.

We played some video games and FINALLY CJ arrived.  He managed to fix the toilet enough that we could flush it as long as we filled up the tank manually first.  And then we took a shot of tequila each, sat down and listened to Pink Floyd, took another shot of tequila, then watched Finding Nemo.  By the end of Nemo I was tired and sober and ready to go home.  So, after making sure I was able to get home, I left.  I'm safe, I swear.

I got home at around one fifteen, and went to bed, sleeping soundly until nine fifteen, when, for no reason at all, I was completely awake and well-rested and ready to go.  And so Dad and I left for our church and Mom and LS went to their church.

We went out for lunch at the local Chinese buffet, then we pretty much made Mom play video games and watch tv the rest of the day.

I had decided to make pretty art, so I was in the middle of that when Dad says I needed to go see where my cat was.

This, my dear reader, is where the story gets interesting.  If you've stuck with me this long, this is kind of worth it.

LS's dog had chased Kitty up a tree.  Not just any tree, either.  This tree was a) outside of our fence line, b) had a ladder of unknown vines crawling up it, c) looked like all the branches were going to fall off, and d) had no other way down.

I, of course, being the caring and compassionate owner I am, go over to see if Kitty really is stuck or if she's just not really wanting to get out of the tree.

From all appearances, in my defence, she looked stuck.  Not stuck-stuck but unable to get down for fear of something else.  I decide to talk her through it, since it looks like she's scared of how high up she is.  So I'm standing at the back of our yard, talking to my cat and trying to tell her to jump out of the tree, while she sits there and meows at me incessantly and Dad stands back and laughs, throwing in unhelpful comments whenever he can.

After many...many failed attempts, Kitty finally managed to backwards climb her way down, and as soon as she managed to get within our yard again, idiot dog chased her.  Again and again.  And I couldn't save the Kitty because we have no idea what kind of vines those were and if they'll make my skin itch. :/

I was very annoyed with idiot dog.  Dad just kept making fun of me for thinking Kitty needed saving, but for all looks and purposes, she seemed stuck and unable to get down.

So in the end, either my cat is an idiot with a fear of heights, or a manipulative and conniving Kitty.  Either is completely possible.  She's proved her idiocy in other ways before this particular incident, but it's also true that she's a cat and thus is by nature manipulative and conniving.

In any case, I rode with Dad and LS while LS drove to the local grocer to buy fried chicken, potato wedges and macaroni and cheese for dinner.  Then we watched a Good Eats, I went back upstairs to put the finishing touches on my pretty drawing, and then came down while they were starting StarWars and eating carrot cake.  I stayed for a good portion of the movie, but left as soon as Luke had reached the Dagoba system because I have exams today.  One at 1 and the other at 3:30.

I'm not looking forward to either, really, but I dislike the first more than the second.

Until next time, Dear Reader,

Friday, May 6, 2011

Three Posts in One Day

Aren't you lucky?  I've got more time on my hands than I know what to do with.  I never know how to handle myself when this happens.

I figure I'll explain my friends' "names" for future reference for both myself and for you people.

My best friend, GL stands for Good Lady, as in The Good Lady Such-in-such.  Because she is a wonderful, classy person who is a good lady.  She's only a few years older than I am, being almost 22.  She's fantastic and I love her and I spend all my time with her, so you'll probably hear about her a lot.

My former-best friend, who I've heretofore referred to as my-at-the-time-best friend and other such names, will be referred to as RF for Rather Fake.  Because despite all appearances, she can be.  Quick note, these names happen to coincide with their real initials.  It's kind of strange how it happened to work out like that.

The young man I told you about earlier is NT for Not Totally reffering to how he's not totally the best friend I thought he was, or Not totally straight, or not totally faithful, not totally etc.  I hope this covers most of it.

Another fellow, whom I have spoken of in a previous post I will refer to DM.  Douchebag to the Max.  I hope that needs no further explaination.  It could also stand for Dumb Mistake.

The third fellow I may speak of, potentially, will be reffered to as FJ.  For Foking Juck.  Which I hope you will be able to read between the lines of and see it for what I really mean to write it as.  Any questions should be posted as comments to be reviewed at a later date.

My younger sister will heretofore be referred to as LS for Little Sister, even though she has a couple inches on me and is STILL GROWING I SWEAR.

Mom and Dad will be refferred to as thusly.

Grandparents will have their allotted pseudonyms.

I think that covers most of it.  Any others will be brought up when the time comes, assuming I know their initials, anyway.

How come everything works out the right way like that?  I totally wasn't planning on it.  It was really kind of strange when I realized what was happening.

Well, here I am.  I finished with the rough outline of the people I deal with the most, emotionally.  AH! Fudge, I forgot one.

MB for Major Butthead.  He was the guy before DM that I had a rather whirlwind long-distance romance with.  That was a huge mistake.  Luckily it's not anymore.  I haven't spoken to him in a couple of years...I de-friended him on facebook, too...hmmmm....

FJ happens to be at the computer terminal next to mine.  I didn't realize who it was until after I sat down.  Luckily I'm at the terminal across the doorway from him, so it's not a big deal, but still...

This is probably the main reason that I even started this post the way it went.

It's very distracting to be sitting at a computer next to a window.  People are standing outside and I'm very intrigued, but they can see me as well as I can see them, if not better, so it would be strange to stare.  So I only look when they move and it catches my attention again.  Unfortunately they're now in my range of perifferal vison and one of them is antsy.  So I really have to try not to look.

I may have failed one of my classes this semester.  I hope not.  I hope doing the exam will make up for it...

I don't think it will though.  I'll be lucky if I can pass it with a D.  I hate accounting.  It was all well and good when it was just filling in basic journal entries and T accounts.  But then they added in shit like taxes and inventories and all sorts of BS...It just made it way more complicated than I could handle.  I really don't want to have to do the exam, but I think I have to.

I have a strange thing with doing poorly in classes.  I don't really care as long as I pass, but my parents insist on me getting close to perfect grades.  Which is nigh on impossible, honestly.  I get it, of course.  They are paying for my education.  But still, they didn't do well in college.  Hell, dad got suspended for a year and mom had to quit because she got pregnant.  At least neither of those things have happened to me, and I don't think they ever will.  I'm a little to smart for that.

I don't know how they had an active social life, were able to go to classes and learn shit, and sleep at the same time.  I don't think it's possible, so I'm assuming something from my equation is missing.  So next time I sign up for classes, it's going to be two, three at most, and I'm going to focus on work and sleep because my social life and I will be moving in together.

Oh god, I'm never going to get through this.

The room is getting closed up.  I figure I should probably go now.

Until Next Time, Dear Reader,

Another Day, Another Post

I know I posted once already today, but, hey, more for you, right?

I've got a little less than an hour before I have to be anywhere right now, so I'm just going to type until then.  This is what I used to do when I would send email to myself.  I think of it as a type of writing practice.  I really wanted to get a soda, but I forgot before I got to a computer station.  I don't really feel comfortable leaving my things out in the open, nor a computer free.  They get taken quickly if you're not careful, you know.  Also, so do your things.

I suppose I could tell you a witty story of my childhood, or a memory from recently, but honestly, my memory only goes back about as far as I've been posting, as far as accuracy goes, and I'm fairly certain you all won't care too much.  I think the oldest story I have given you, and will give you, is my failed attempt at relationships in the year of my 17th birthday.  Spring birthdays confuse the crap out of me, and I have one, so if you ever see me refer to myself as an age that doesn't match up to what I've told you previously, it's because I have a sucky memory and a spring birthday.

I'd gotten to the point last semester where I would start writing stories and outlines for stories because I'd run out of interesting things to tell myself.  But now I'm talking to a whole new audience.

You know, I had a friend once who shared with me the fact that he secretly liked the cock.  And I'm not talking about chickens and roosters, either.  We haven't really spoken since I tipsy-texted him at IHOP after my first college party.  I think my best friend offended him a bit.  But he may have deserved it.  He's kind of been screwing me over relationship wise for a long time.

You see, dear readers, even though I know you don't much care for my romantic exploits, I'm going to tell you about this boy anway.  I have time and if you're still reading, so do you.  Anyway, this boy and I, we go back all the way to my freshman year of high--

Ehh...bit longer than that, actually, but freshman year of "high school" is kind of a good starting point.  Moving on.  Our churches got together during the summer for Vacation Bible School (hereby abreviated as VBS) and so we'd see each other regularly during those periods.  Finally in this, my freshman year of high school, we finally exchanged IM addresses.

We then started communicating quite frequently, for long periods of time.  Several hours we would have conversations, almost every night, even into the actual school year.  We told each other things we hadn't told anyone outside of the internet.  Like how he likes the cock and how I like reading slash fanfiction.  Admittedly, I gave mine away first, which is how he brought up the subject of his, but irrelevant.

So, he was potentially part-fay, but he still liked girls.  And I couldn't understand why he hadn't asked me out yet.  He was cute, I was almost there, he liked to talk to me, I liked to talk to him, it seemed like it would work.

Then he got a girlfriend.  And he still chatted with me very frequently.  Even to the point where we would, ah, "cyber" I believe is the term.  And then he broke up with his girlfriend, and I thought for sure he would ask me out then.  No, instead he got another girlfriend.  Same deal as last time.  And then he started dating my at-the-time-best friend.  And it looked pretty serious.  Realize, this is over a period of about two years or so.  He starts dating this friend of mine at the end of the semester right before he went off to college.

And I was just waiting for it to end like the others had, because it was the same. damn. deal. as all the other times.  We still chatted a lot, and we still would sext and cyber.  Mostly with me playing the male lead as he played the female lead, but again, irrelevant. 

And the relationship just kept going.

And going.

And going.  They never broke up.  I couldn't fathom it.  How could this one have lasted where all the others failed?  I was still the same, he was still the same.  The only difference was the girl.  And honestly, I think I know why she's different.  She's a little...ah...controlling and manipulative and I really don't know how I stayed friends with her for so long.  I figure he hasn't left because he doesn't know what she's really like since he's away at school out of state, even though they've been friends and have dated for a while.

When he left for college and they were still together, I figured it was the end of that, and I stopped initiating contact.

Soon after, he started texting and IMing again.  And so it continued for a year or so more.  And then, finally, I put my foot down one evening while with my best friend (who, in order to disperse confusion, I'm going to refer to as GL, okay?).  I was with her and I think we were playing a video game, or she was, or we were watching something on the tv?  I don't remember, but he (I'm going to name him something too, like DB or something :D  Actually, no I lie, that's someone else.  He can be...NT)  was texting and it was going the same way it always does if we text consistently for longer than an hour.  Down that road.  And I wasn't going to do it.  I felt bad for letting him do this to my once best friend, and I didn't like doing it if I wasn't going to ever see any payup for it.  If he wasn't going to ever date me (and at this point, it's definitely not looking good for that) then I didn't want any part in this.  So I said no.  And he kind of left it at that, but he definitely wasn't happy about it.

So a few weeks later, I went to my first college party.  It was a Grain party with the Tubas.  Supposedly it gets crazy, but we (meaning myself and GL, stands for Good Lady as in the title of Lady such-in-such) left before it could get insane.  So we went to IHOP for some food.  I initiated contact for the first time in two years.  I never text first, but that night I did.  And I wasn't completely sober, either.  And apparently GL had tried to send him a message on facebook and he'd ignored it because he says he didn't know who she was and why she was sending him a message.  She claimed it was bull and stole my phone to text him more.

He got kind of upset and I tried to diffuse the situation when I got my phone back.  But I was also kind of miffed at him because he was quite obviously lying to both of us, and he couldn't admit it.

I haven't heard from him since.

I guess maybe it was my fault for letting it happen.  I was just so sure that something would come of it, that when I realized it never would, I was stuck in a habit of going along with it.

I suppose we'll never hear the rest of the story between Captain Me and the wench NT.  But I think I'm okay with that, after all.

If you've stuck around this long, I give you a lot of credit.  I know I'm tedious and I have a tendency to ramble.  I know it's hard to understand where I'm going with a story, mostly because I don't know where I'm going when I start it.

But thanks for reading anyway.  I really do appreciate it.

If you say "TL;DR," that's cool.  Maybe one day I will have hilarious drawings to illustrate my stories and you will read them with a fervor you've never known before.

Or you'll just skip to the end and read the last bit.  That's cool too.

Until Next Time, Dear Reader,

My life has gone from normal to kind of crazy

I love my best friend.  She's fantastic.

That being said, whenever I'm with her, something kind of crazy always happens.  I'm not entirely sure why.

I bring this up because I was over at her place last night.  We'd been hanging out in her room since the living room was being occupied by her roommate and the roommate's study-buddy.  It was a  normal evening otherwise.

All of the sudden, at around ten or ten-thirty, the roommate comes upstairs and says that there is a leak in the ceiling.  Downstairs.  They had heard it drip and gotten a bowl for it, but they didn't quite know what the source was.

We went downstairs to see what was going on.  There was a buckled tile on the ceiling that looked like it was damn near ready to pop.  I kept my distance, of course, because who knows what it would do.

The two people who actually live in the house checked out the bathroom to see what might be going on.  Apparently there had been a little bit of a leak around the toilet for a really long time, and now it seemed the water had saturated the wood in the area, making it buckle and drip and sink a little bit as well.  You could kind of see the indent around the toilet.  Considering we (meaning my friend and I specifically) figured it wasn't a pool of water that was waiting to just spew out, I figured the toilet was just going to fall through the ceiling onto our heads.  No one took my concerns seriously.

I understand, when you tell someone their toilet could fall through their ceiling, it's kind of outlandish and brings up many ideas of a toilet just coming through like there's nothing attached to it and landing on the floor like nothing happened.  I realize that's not what was going to happen.  I'm a bit smarter than some people give me credit for.  But I did fear that with the wood being weak, and becoming more weakened by the fact that my friend's roommate wanted to poke a hole in the ceiling, that the floor would give way underneath the toilet and it would hang from the plumbing down into the tack room.  It would have been messy and dusty and spew-y with water.

Luckily this didn't happen, but it does mean that they have no bathroom for the time being because they don't want to make the problem worse.  So I've been updated this morning, as I was in the middle of writing this, that the ceiling where it was wet has been...ah...somehow removed.  It doesn't appear that it did so of its own accord, so we're assuming their landlord did it at some point.  However, it's still not a good thing because how was the water getting there in the first place?  I'm no plumber, but I'm pretty sure water in your ceiling under your toilet means there's a leak and that you should fix it.

Just saying.

But on the plus side, the roommate is leaving in a week or so, and my friend is moving...ah...a little later than that, unfortunately, but hopefully there will be a place for her to stay around here so that she can continue working and such until she's able to move into our new place.

God, I hope nothing like this happens in our new place.  That would just be really inconvenient.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Yesterday and today

Well, despite my nerves, yesterday's interview went off without a hitch.  The only problem I ran into was that we went a little later than I would have liked, but I managed to get out with enough time to change my clothes while driving, and get into the classroom with five minutes to spare.  The only reason it was as nerve wracking as I made it out to be is that I had a test in that class.

Everything else went all hunky dory.  I learned I'm not quite the beast at the stock market as I thought I was, hung out with my best friend, loved the fact that I now can have-a-car-of-my-very-own all day on Wednesdays, and learned that Wednesdays can be one of the better days of the week.

There was a time, however when Wednesdays were the bane of my existence.  It all started about three years ago, at the end of May...

I'd been hanging out with the same group of people since the beginning of high school (well, when they were in high school anyway. I was homeschooled and in the same grades, but whatever, IRRELEVANT INFO), and so we'd gotten relatively close.  Looking back now it was barely even "regular friends."  It was far to close to acquaintances.  BESIDE THE POINT!!

My sister and my at-the-time best friend were in the same dance recital, so everyone showed up.  I went over during intermission to talk with a few of them and got a compliment on my necklace from a guy who I'm sure can see right down my shirt when looking at any necklace I wear when we're both standing.

A couple of days later, me and the self-same guy were "dating."  It was unofficial at best, mostly we would hang out and watch movies together.  Our first "real" date was us going to a drive in movie to see Land of the Lost, which we saw again on our second "real" date, which was a double date with another friend of mine and her at-the-time boyfriend.

(Hey, guess what?  This is a mystery story!  Find all the clues to tell you what part of this was a bad idea.  HINT:  ALL OF IT)

Sue me, I was sixteen, dumb and out of a two-week-long relationship that had begun at a weekend conference thing, was kicked off by a couple of marriage proposals over the phone, with a guy I could barely hear, let alone understand, and ended over text messaging.  I'm sure everyone's made those kinds of mistakes, right?

Ah, yeah, didn't think so...sunova-

Anyway, getting back on topic:

Three of our pseudo dates in, we were kissing, and making out, and ewww.  He made me pay attention to all the movies he chose, but if I chose a movie, all bets were off and he didn't pay any attention.

We broke up three weeks in.  His choice.  He was going back to his at the time ex-girlfriend.  They lasted almost a year after that.

We broke up on a Wednesday.  And ever since that relationship, all the way until I went to Louisiana last summer, Wednesdays were hell.  I couldn't do anything fun on a Wednesday, or it would all go to shit.

It was very painful and annoying and frustrating.

But, like I said, after two years, it went away and I was able to function during Wednesdays, even come to enjoy them most times.

Yesterday, like I said, was amazing.

Today however, has not started off so well.  My mother is upset for some reason, and, as the saying goes, if Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

For now, I must fill our recycled water bottles to put in the fridge when we wish to have them.  Until Next Time, Dear Reader.


Wednesday, May 4, 2011

I find myself with a lot of nervous energy this morning

Also, with about fifteen minutes before I have to leave.

So, you guys get a little post.  Isn't that swell?

I hate having to look nice for things.  It's a shame that I'm being interviewed for a job that requires it.  I dislike wearing skirts because I don't like my ankle area.  I like slacks, but I hate the shirts I have because I feel like they make me look like a butch lesbian.  That isn't quite the vibe I'd prefer to give off.

Also, my hair is refusing to make itself do pretty things, so I'm forced to interact with it, which just makes it all different kinds of ridiculous.  I have to wear makeup, even though I'm completely comfortable with how my face looks without the make-up, I have to pretend I know what I'm doing and that I'm not a thirteen-year-old-with-her-first make-up-kit on the inside.  It's all more stressful than the interview would be without all of this.

Honestly, I don't see why they don't hold casual interviews.  I think it would be a better way to see who you're hiring.  You say, "Come in whatever you would wear if today were just another day."  Then when they get their in the jeans and band-tee-shirt, you ask them why they wore what they did, what prompted their decision.  You then learn about their daily life and who they are as a person.  You know their taste in music, their plans for the rest of the day, their interests, their style-sense.  Whether or not they really put make-up on and wear their hair down.

I should be an interviewer.  I think I would rock at it.  You get them there in their wild day-clothes, tell them that usually they would have to dress up, make sure they like/can do that, and then, have a second interview where you test them on their ability to look nice.  If they really can do what they say they can, go for it.  If not, well, they're just not the right person for this job, and they should look elsewhere.

See?  I'd be awesome.

I'm nervous as shit.  I didn't even know shit could be nervous, but apparently it can be, and I'm as nervous as it.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

And now for something completely different:

I am secretly attractive, I've figured out.

Secretly because no one notices right away.  They wait for something, something they don't tell anyone, and I certainly don't know what it is until after it's been pointed out to me.

You see, I know lots of strange trivia no one cares much about, I also watch fairly unknown shows to most people, I like fast, pretty cars, I know a scary amount of strange facts that rarely does anyone care about it until I spout it off like a teapot boiling (work with me here).

The reason I bring this up is because recently, my life has become inundated with very attractive young men.  And one fluke, but we'll not go into that too far.

One of these young men is coming into town this weekend.  You see, dear reader (I think you're actually plural now, but I'll refer to each of you individually), I have only met this poor young man once before, when I was with my best friend in her hometown.  We met up with him to go to a dollar theatre for a movie none of us really cared too much about because the one we really had wanted to see was sold out.  I met him at his house, where he happened to be watching a favorite show of mine.

This show is called Top Gear and while they have an American version now, the British (or original) version is MUCH better.  He was watching, and rightly so, the Brit version.  Luckily it was one I'd seen parts of, so I wasn't too torn up about not being able to finish it.  But my friend had never seen this show and was terribly confused.  I figured this young man wouldn't be able to properly explain the situation to my friend, so I went ahead and gave her the rundown.

She said he looked at her and his jaw dropped open.  He asked how I knew all of that and I told him it was one of my favorite shows and that my parents liked watching it.  My friend claims it was at that moment he fell a little in love with me.

So you see, I'm secretly attractive.  He hadn't found me very interesting until I explained the show to our mutual friend, and suddenly I was the sexiest thing with legs.

Another example would be of a young man whom I'm trying to dissuade from liking me.  You see, I have a strange idea of what "attractive" is, most times.  He fit into that, so in the beginning, I was all for him talking to me.  And then when he did, he started revealing he was more of a dork than I am really willing to get involved with.  Not to mention that anything I had a  positive opinion on, he had a negative opinion on.  I couldn't understand why, then, he thought we had similar interests.  So I tried pulling away gently and politely.  I tried having my friend -- who has an honesty problem and can be kind of a bitch to people she doesn't really like, and neither of us liked him much at this point -- give him a mean let down.  He has not taken the hint very well.

But again, it's because I am secretly a big dork that he's attracted to me.  I shared too much of my dorkiness and he got too bold.  I was emboldened by Top Gear Man, and didn't realize that there were dorks out there who would be much more dorky than myself, more than I could, or would want to handle.

I'm currently waiting for the young men in the band at church to fall for me.  I just need to be bolder about speaking in front of them so I can share a minor dorky tid-bit about myself and they, too, will suddenly fall around me like flies.

In other words, as Spiderman's aunt told him, "With great power comes great responsibility."  I must use my powers of secret-attractiveness very wisely, and only for the greater good.

Till next time, dear reader,

Monday, May 2, 2011

Road Workers Think I'm Crazy and also God's Designs

Three posts in one day?  I just have a lot to say and too much time to do it.

Driving home I got onto the second to last road home, but there were people painting the newly paved road.  They were making their way down the road, but I was at a stop sign with no one there to tell me if it was safe but the people who were behind the truck blocking my view.  I gave a thumbs up to one of the fellows and a questioning look, and he waved me on.  As I passed, I saw a good portion of them laughing.  I'm fairly certain they were laughing at me.

The thumbs up made sense to me.  I can't imagine what else I could have done to make sure all of them were safe and that it was O.K. for me to cross their spray-painted line down the middle of the road.

Why is it whenever I'm concerned about their safety, the road workers either roll their eyes and look annoyed or just laugh?  I'm legitimately concerned about their wellbeing and they apparently are not.  It's just common courtesy.  I could be a complete asshole about passing them, squealing my tires, flipping them off and looking annoyed, but no.  Instead I ask if it's safe for me to go on ahead, make sure I'm going a safe speed around them, keep up with traffic and stay safe distances away from all the other things on the road that are not me.  I don't see anything wrong with that, do you?

In other news, I do a lot of thinking in my minivan.  Mostly inane things that have no purpose being thought except to fill blank space.

But today I had a thought that simply must be shared:

Why did God give humans butt-cheeks?  What purpose do they serve?

I google searched it.  It resulted in mostly a cushion, a way to muffle farts, and a result from the fact that humans walk upright and no other animals do, therefore no other animals have buttcheeks.

In which case, my musing over the issue has become null and void.

But in the car it was quite amusing to get bent out of shape about it.

Maaaaan, the internet can be kind of a buzz kill sometimes.

Till next time, dear reader (I believe you're still singular after today)

A Tale of Two Postings

This is very exciting, dear reader.  I've posted twice!  In one day!

I find myself with spare time between classes today, so I write instead.  This is a much better use of my time than, say, what I was doing last semester when I had two hours free between classes and emailed myself constantly.  Same concept, different media and I don't get double emailed.  A Win-Win situation, I believe is the term.

I have this shirt, see.  It's a generic Outer Banks, NC shirt, except that it reads "Hello, my name is Rodger and I will be flogging you today" on the back.  This is fairly important.

Throughout the day, I periodically forget what shirt it is that I'm wearing.  Today is one of those days.  So I went out to get McDonalds, and instead of drive thru, I figured what would be the harm in going into the store and getting it to go that way.

After I ordered, I went around the side to get my soda, and all of the sudden there is loud laughter from behind me.  I figure someone had shared a joke with someone else and was being very merry about it, but since I am a curious kitty cat, I turned to see what all the ruckus was about.  The man standing behind me had at this point gone around me the other way and said "Great shirt!"  I was confused and befuddled and anything else that means I had no idea what was going on.  He smiled at me and said, "I needed a laugh, that is a great shirt!"  I thanked him and said it was my pleasure to make him laugh.

I feel really good about myself now.  I gave a laugh and a smile to someone who needed it.

So, to you, older-than-I-am gentleman who patroned the McDonalds in Dublin today,

You're welcome.  I don't know why you needed a laugh, but I'm glad I could help you out.

Your friendly neighborhood blogger,

To the one person who reads this

Hi.  I've noticed you're the only person reading this.  I'm very flattered with the fact that you check back here daily.  You make me feel very appreciated, even though these posts are rarely as entertaining as I want them to be.

In any case to an actual post:

Where were you when you heard about Osama Bin Laden dying, and how did you feel?

Well I found out this morning when I looked at my facebook and everyone I knew had posted on it except for one of the girls I'm moving in with next semester, who was complaining about the fact that there was something of a riot on the school's campus last night over the ordeal.  At first I felt like the US had finally been vindicated for something.

And then I got to thinking, isn't it sad that he died before realizing that what he had done was wrong?  So now I just feel really sad about the whole thing, besides the fact that it's just going to be one more life lost in this whole battle.

I'm really overthinking this, aren't I?  Let's go back to the patriotic celebration, shall we?


Oh, shit, wrong celebration.  My bad.

Have a wonderful day, person who reads this.  May you celebrate with friends.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Internet Memes and Old Ladies

I'm fairly certain I'm cheating at the Non-Stop NYAN cat...As I'm doing this and have it open in another window, but I've been listening to it for 700-something seconds, so I suppose I'm doing pretty ok.  I found one of the 4/20 easter eggs.  It just gives it a rasta-patterned hat.  Not that I'm complaining, but still, less exciting than I'd hoped.

And now, on to the eye candy portion.

My church has two services, a 9:30 and an 11 service.  I attend both because a) dad drives and I can go early and help set up and I don't want to drive his car home after the first service, and b) because of the guys in the band.

Oh my gosh, guys.  Seriously.  If I wasn't such an awkward old lady on the inside, I'd be much more obvious about my attraction to these guys.

As it is, I knit while listening to audiobooks and my joints creak, and I can't look guys in the eye.  I don't know why I can't look men in the eye, it's a problem I've had for a really long time.  I got very lucky that my eye doctor is a woman.  Dad and my male family members I don't have a problem with, but I cannot seem to look guys I find attractive in the eye.  So my attraction goes unnoticed and I think they lose heart because I've trained myself to not show that I like guys.  It's because I'm trying not to look as desperate as I know I am.

But it's cool because my dad is on the sound crew, and they all flock there between services.  It makes me a very happy girl.  And I'm growing slowly more confident in myself so I'm able to talk while they are there, even if I can't quite talk to them yet, or even look at them.  I'm absolutely ridiculous, I avoid staring too long because for some reason I don't want them to know I like them?  See, it doesn't even make sense to me!

So I will be my awkward old lady with my kitty cat and my knitting and my audio books and maybe someone can be the awkward old man to sit with me in our matching rocking chairs on our front porch where we can wave our canes around at the people who walk by our house

Can't you just see it?  Two twenty-somethings sitting on a front porch waving canes we don't need sitting in rocking chairs and pretending to be older than we are.  AB-solutely.


Ok, I found another easter egg on the stupid nyan cat thing.  Lowering the volume actually raises the volume and if you click it enough times, the colors change.

Thought I'd let you know.