Monday
We'll be back after these messages.
Since I turned in the poems that were due today, I don't have much going on other than my snooping through all of my old videos in tribute to the video that I made yesterday (other than the fact that I said "y'know" about 3497 times. That should not be celebrated). And I have discovered that there is some hilarious shit in my videos folder that I sadly may not be able to display on the internet due to some friends who do not find the embarrassing shit that was documented to be very flattering. So I have been digging for a while to find something that I can possibly show you in an attempt to invite you into my life a little bit more than my writing has provided. Surprisingly, just because I write, that does not make me any less than a visual person. So I figure I'll touch base with both.
A colorful rant meets a colorful rant.
I was surprised at how much feedback I received for posting my first Vlog, and how fast I received it. Thank you everyone for putting up with me. I was unaware that I had an accent until this morning when I accepted the plethora of comments waiting for me. Also, apparently I make a hot librarian figure, which will sadly be a temporary look considering that I am going to get my contacts soon. Sorry everyone, but at least you have documented proof that I am sizzling hot in my glasses. Those are going to be put away for a long time, so if this upsets you, I encourage you to watch the video as much as you want. This is not an invitation to undress me with your eyes though, you librarian fetish fiends.
Friday
Oh baby.
Day 23 (a glimpse into the future): Give pictures of five guys who are famous who you find attractive.
Life is on my mind
Day 8 (but not really day 8): A moment you felt most satisfied with your life.
I strangely find this a difficult question to answer, mostly because I experience a sense of satisfaction, though many are fleeting, everyday. Sometimes it occurs when I wake up, sometimes it occurs just before falling asleep. Most times the satisfaction finds me on my trips to and from school. Driving on the country roads that overlook the hill country really give me a chance to reflect on what I have.
I have a loving boyfriend
I have a supporting family
I am doing well in school and graduate next year
I am crazy about my job and coworkers.
I have already started writing, even if it is for myself, it's still something!
I have more than I could ever ask for. Though I frequently complain about the downfalls of each and everyday, I am still fortunate and incredibly happy with my life. I am not claiming that every aspect of my existence is or was picture perfect, but I most certainly will say with confidence that I am very satisfied with how things are working out for me. It will be better when I graduate. Then I can start traveling. If life's amazing now, imagine how it'll be when I am with Mike?! God, I can't wait to graduate and get the Hell out of here.
Oh! There I go again. I'm totally happy. Compleeetely satisfied.
I strangely find this a difficult question to answer, mostly because I experience a sense of satisfaction, though many are fleeting, everyday. Sometimes it occurs when I wake up, sometimes it occurs just before falling asleep. Most times the satisfaction finds me on my trips to and from school. Driving on the country roads that overlook the hill country really give me a chance to reflect on what I have.
I have a loving boyfriend
I have a supporting family
I am doing well in school and graduate next year
I am crazy about my job and coworkers.
I have already started writing, even if it is for myself, it's still something!
I have more than I could ever ask for. Though I frequently complain about the downfalls of each and everyday, I am still fortunate and incredibly happy with my life. I am not claiming that every aspect of my existence is or was picture perfect, but I most certainly will say with confidence that I am very satisfied with how things are working out for me. It will be better when I graduate. Then I can start traveling. If life's amazing now, imagine how it'll be when I am with Mike?! God, I can't wait to graduate and get the Hell out of here.
Oh! There I go again. I'm totally happy. Compleeetely satisfied.
"Songs" and ladders
Before I start on my overdue blog topic the challenge calls for, I would first like to express to you how full of fail the other day was. I could not have put myself in a worse situation.
This calls for some background information.
This calls for some background information.
I live near the Devil's Backbone in the Texas hill country. I drive down this winding road to get to school in San Marcos because it is a shorter distance than the highway route. Back roads are awesome. That is until you decide that driving as far as you can go until you pass the one gas station for miles halfway to your destination on very little gas.
Ahem.
So a few days previous to this one, Dad and I were going to haul all of my belongings from San Marcos to Spring Branch. I decided that driving up early was the best bet so I could attempt to organize before Dad showed up after work. The less stress on him is less stress on me in the end. My actions, however, made up for the stress I alleviated by showing up early.
Before I left for San Marcos, I helped Madre clean out the garage for the incoming junk to cram in there. Keep in mind, my bad luck and clumsiness was inherited straight from her. Only with our power combo could a set of stairs leading up to the attic almost kill the both of us. Don't ask.
After a family scavenger hunt for my keys, I left. Only when I was halfway to my destination without a lick of gas did I realize that my purse was not in its usual resting place in the seat beside me. After parking at the pump, I tore my Jeep apart in hopes of finding that one item that determines whether or not a girl is totally screwed. In this case, I was totally screwed. My purse was at home...
...in the garage...
...on the pool table...
...where I left it...
I was without a phone, without money and had to, by some unrealistic chance, get home and retrieve my purse. But even if I had a phone, who could help me? Mom runs an in house daycare. Like she could really leave the kids for twenty minutes. Come on Jess.
I was so panicked that I was shaking when I finally decided to chance it and drive back home. I was like this the whole drive home. Every slow car made my blood pressure rise, every stop sign made my blood pressure rise, every hill and every bit of traffic. I was pretty sure that if I had encountered just one more obstacle than I had previous to arriving home (I totally made it guys), I would have stroked out.
My Mom wasn't surprised when I sped into the driveway in a fluster. "Here," she laughed, handing me my purse. The rest of the day went swimmingly, that is, until I got sick. (This is me explaining why I haven't updated in a while). I'm still sick too. It's pathetic how out of it I am, actually. My funny bone isn't working to its full potential today.
Onto the blog challenge. I will be writing multiple topics throughout the day. I am going to start on an easy one, since I am a cheater and don't give a rat's ass what the challenge says what order I am supposed to go in, I'm diseased and my brain needs to rest.
Day "blah": Put your iPod on shuffle and write ten songs that pop up.
Ahem.
So a few days previous to this one, Dad and I were going to haul all of my belongings from San Marcos to Spring Branch. I decided that driving up early was the best bet so I could attempt to organize before Dad showed up after work. The less stress on him is less stress on me in the end. My actions, however, made up for the stress I alleviated by showing up early.
Before I left for San Marcos, I helped Madre clean out the garage for the incoming junk to cram in there. Keep in mind, my bad luck and clumsiness was inherited straight from her. Only with our power combo could a set of stairs leading up to the attic almost kill the both of us. Don't ask.
After a family scavenger hunt for my keys, I left. Only when I was halfway to my destination without a lick of gas did I realize that my purse was not in its usual resting place in the seat beside me. After parking at the pump, I tore my Jeep apart in hopes of finding that one item that determines whether or not a girl is totally screwed. In this case, I was totally screwed. My purse was at home...
...in the garage...
...on the pool table...
...where I left it...
I was without a phone, without money and had to, by some unrealistic chance, get home and retrieve my purse. But even if I had a phone, who could help me? Mom runs an in house daycare. Like she could really leave the kids for twenty minutes. Come on Jess.
I was so panicked that I was shaking when I finally decided to chance it and drive back home. I was like this the whole drive home. Every slow car made my blood pressure rise, every stop sign made my blood pressure rise, every hill and every bit of traffic. I was pretty sure that if I had encountered just one more obstacle than I had previous to arriving home (I totally made it guys), I would have stroked out.
My Mom wasn't surprised when I sped into the driveway in a fluster. "Here," she laughed, handing me my purse. The rest of the day went swimmingly, that is, until I got sick. (This is me explaining why I haven't updated in a while). I'm still sick too. It's pathetic how out of it I am, actually. My funny bone isn't working to its full potential today.
Onto the blog challenge. I will be writing multiple topics throughout the day. I am going to start on an easy one, since I am a cheater and don't give a rat's ass what the challenge says what order I am supposed to go in, I'm diseased and my brain needs to rest.
Day "blah": Put your iPod on shuffle and write ten songs that pop up.
- DJ Shadow- "Six Days"
- Fastball- "The Way"
- Iron and Wine- "Arms of a Thief"
- The Beatles- "Yesterday"
- Anna Nalick- "Breathe"
- Slipknot- "Snuff"
- Versa Emerge- "The Hider"
- Fiona Apple- "Across the Universe"
- Nancy Sinatra- "Bang Bang" Kill Bill Soundtrack
- Muse- "Hoodoo"
OH! That's a good playlist. I'm impressed and slightly less sickly due to the pure awesomeness of this list of ten. The power of music can do wondrous things.
Tuesday
Dearest DShan
DShan, my hunky iglooman,
How I long to see your username present itself when I stalk the 20sb chat room and main page. Your reign over the kingdom of twenty somethings arouses my desire for a man in power. Why have you not returned any of my friend requests? Day and night I linger in front of my computer screen, hoping that you will notice me among the many available and attractive 20 somethings that are so easily drawn in with your charming posts and enticing display picture. I fondly remember my first day as a 20 something, roaming the site unknowingly in the presence of such a wonderful admin, who little did I know would steal my heart the moment my email was spammed with messages that would lead me back to you.
You can be my admin any day, baby.
Sincerely yours (and hoping you will reconsider accepting my friend request),
J-Roll
If you are confused, I don't blame you. Blame them.
If you don't understand after reading, blame them again.
How I long to see your username present itself when I stalk the 20sb chat room and main page. Your reign over the kingdom of twenty somethings arouses my desire for a man in power. Why have you not returned any of my friend requests? Day and night I linger in front of my computer screen, hoping that you will notice me among the many available and attractive 20 somethings that are so easily drawn in with your charming posts and enticing display picture. I fondly remember my first day as a 20 something, roaming the site unknowingly in the presence of such a wonderful admin, who little did I know would steal my heart the moment my email was spammed with messages that would lead me back to you.
You can be my admin any day, baby.
Sincerely yours (and hoping you will reconsider accepting my friend request),
J-Roll
If you are confused, I don't blame you. Blame them.
If you don't understand after reading, blame them again.
Monday
Fleas, crabs, and mutated cells all make a J-Roll
Day something: Your zodiac sign and if you think it fits your personality
I would firstly like to complain openly about how I am the only Zodiac sign who has two health conditions: cancer and crabs. At birth I was diagnosed with an STD followed by a life threatening disease. That is just wonderful.
But in all honesty, I wouldn't be any other sign but a Cancer. I have always been proud of my zodiac sign for what it stands for and how spot on it seems to be with my personality. Here is a little tidbit about Cancerians or whatever the Hell we're called.
"Cancer, the fourth sign of the zodiac, is a water sign, which signifies your highly emotional nature. Being under the sway of the element of water also makes you highly caring, generous and intuitive. You are highly evolved, even spiritual — the water signs are karmically (buh?) developed and refined in spirit.
Water is malleable and adaptable. You are very much like that. You adapt when you have to, but you much prefer to make changes on your own terms.
Like water, you are soothing and nourishing too. Life-supporting energies are at the heart of your character. You will act as a support for many people — in your own family and beyond. (Like in space!)
Oscar-winning actress Kathy Bates is a dedicated patron, funding a Beverly Hills hospital for women recovering from cancer. Guess what her star sign is? You got it — Cancer! (Really?! OMFG.)
You are for the most part a person of feeling and sensation. (Hot.) Often you will ignore your own judgment and rationality, and someone’s else’s reasonable advice, in favor of how you feel. (Not so hot.) You don’t care if you’re wrong, either! If your intuition tells you to do something, like reaching out to give someone a helping hand, you’ll just do it. (Nevermind, I'm awesome!)
Others turn to you when they need a shoulder to cry on — you’ll do well in any of the caring professions. This approach is highlighted by your key life phrase, ‘I nurture’. You find it difficult to turn away anyone in need. Anyone who knows you will agree that you are one of the best people to connect with if they need advice. Friends will turn to you if they are in trouble, knowing that your sensitive and compassionate touch will lighten their load. (...What load are we speaking of here?)
You are extremely receptive to your environment and the people around you, and will often ‘pick up’ people’s energies, moods and thoughts. (I can read minds?) This ability serves you well; your intuition about people is quite often correct. Your knack of knowing people’s issues before they even open their mouths attracts them to you. (Again. I can read minds?!) The difficulty with this, though, is that you can tend to absorb their emotions — negative as well as positive.
You reflect the qualities of the changing Moon. (I'M A WEREWOLF!) This means that at times your emotions get the better of you, and you swing from high to low. Family and friends will be well aware of this, but they will not doubt your loyalty and support.
Another aspect of the Moon that sometimes doesn’t work well for you is its maternal nature. (I'm a caring werewolf)You sometimes veer too close to the mothering/smothering lane, which can put people off. (I smother people with my emotions instead of pillows because I'm all about prolonging the process)
Back on the plus side, you love to mix with all sorts of people. (...Rum and Coke that is) Social activities are an essential ingredient in your development. You are a great success socially, because you can convey your wisdom to others so well (Beer before liquor, never been sicker kids) — Cancerians have very expressive faces.
Creative enterprises are a great way to make the most of your moods and your imagination. Music and writing are perfect vehicles for you. You can express the inner part of your being as entertaining literary, art or music pieces." -Astrology.com
I would firstly like to complain openly about how I am the only Zodiac sign who has two health conditions: cancer and crabs. At birth I was diagnosed with an STD followed by a life threatening disease. That is just wonderful.
But in all honesty, I wouldn't be any other sign but a Cancer. I have always been proud of my zodiac sign for what it stands for and how spot on it seems to be with my personality. Here is a little tidbit about Cancerians or whatever the Hell we're called.
"Cancer, the fourth sign of the zodiac, is a water sign, which signifies your highly emotional nature. Being under the sway of the element of water also makes you highly caring, generous and intuitive. You are highly evolved, even spiritual — the water signs are karmically (buh?) developed and refined in spirit.
Water is malleable and adaptable. You are very much like that. You adapt when you have to, but you much prefer to make changes on your own terms.
Like water, you are soothing and nourishing too. Life-supporting energies are at the heart of your character. You will act as a support for many people — in your own family and beyond. (Like in space!)
Oscar-winning actress Kathy Bates is a dedicated patron, funding a Beverly Hills hospital for women recovering from cancer. Guess what her star sign is? You got it — Cancer! (Really?! OMFG.)
You are for the most part a person of feeling and sensation. (Hot.) Often you will ignore your own judgment and rationality, and someone’s else’s reasonable advice, in favor of how you feel. (Not so hot.) You don’t care if you’re wrong, either! If your intuition tells you to do something, like reaching out to give someone a helping hand, you’ll just do it. (Nevermind, I'm awesome!)
Others turn to you when they need a shoulder to cry on — you’ll do well in any of the caring professions. This approach is highlighted by your key life phrase, ‘I nurture’. You find it difficult to turn away anyone in need. Anyone who knows you will agree that you are one of the best people to connect with if they need advice. Friends will turn to you if they are in trouble, knowing that your sensitive and compassionate touch will lighten their load. (...What load are we speaking of here?)
You are extremely receptive to your environment and the people around you, and will often ‘pick up’ people’s energies, moods and thoughts. (I can read minds?) This ability serves you well; your intuition about people is quite often correct. Your knack of knowing people’s issues before they even open their mouths attracts them to you. (Again. I can read minds?!) The difficulty with this, though, is that you can tend to absorb their emotions — negative as well as positive.
You reflect the qualities of the changing Moon. (I'M A WEREWOLF!) This means that at times your emotions get the better of you, and you swing from high to low. Family and friends will be well aware of this, but they will not doubt your loyalty and support.
Another aspect of the Moon that sometimes doesn’t work well for you is its maternal nature. (I'm a caring werewolf)
Back on the plus side, you love to mix with all sorts of people. (...Rum and Coke that is) Social activities are an essential ingredient in your development. You are a great success socially, because you can convey your wisdom to others so well (Beer before liquor, never been sicker kids) — Cancerians have very expressive faces.
(It's true)
Creative enterprises are a great way to make the most of your moods and your imagination. Music and writing are perfect vehicles for you. You can express the inner part of your being as entertaining literary, art or music pieces." -Astrology.com
And that is that folks. You heard them. I was destined to blog. Cancer and crabs don't seem so bad anymore.
Prepare to be spammed, blog.
I am here to announce to the world/internet that I am about to attempt what most buzzed, highly distracted, and chat room immersed young adults, like myself, consider to be the unthinkable. I am going to do my homework (I don't have class tomorrow so that makes me an overachiever) and catch up on the many blog topics that I have yet to post because I have been too busy being lazy chatting on 20sb. Can you tell that I am feeling productive today?
Plus, I actually feel like I've let my readers and myself down for not keeping to the challenge, so I figure now is a great time to commit to something I've already committed to, and what better way to do so by starting with the topic I have been dreading all week? Let the religious talk commence!
(Deep breath)
Day whatever: Your views on religion.
Honestly, I don't think I am ready to even be honest with myself about my own views. I am at a stage in my life where talking to someone or something that I feel has never heard my prayers in the first place is a little ridiculous. However, my want to believe in something is very strong. I expect that with time, I will find myself comfortable with a set of beliefs that suit me. Either I have to search for it or the faith will be delivered to me instead. Right now, I am more focused on finding myself and believing in myself.
If their is a God, I'm sure He is patient and will wait for me as I have been waiting for him. We just have to find one another at the right moment. Right now is not that moment.
I still get a sense of wonder and respect when I enter a church, and surprisingly, the feeling gives me hope that perhaps God never left me. I lose that hope during prayer though. I feel empty and even look forward to the Amen so I can stop pretending that I am speaking with God. I have not and never have experienced any connection with Him. When people tell me to thank God for my success and for what I have, I think to myself, "But I worked for these things, not him." Why give credit to something that has never seemed to help me before? As a step to being honest with myself, I have to admit that for a while I believed that religion as a whole was kind of silly. Now I crave a sense of spiritual direction and faith. I am tired of believing that you only have yourself in the end. I am just afraid that if I do end up believing in something, I'll just be let down and feel more alone than I had before.
For a long time I've followed blindly in the shadow of my family's faith because I feared that if I strayed, I would be looked at as the different one, the one that they all had to save from the flames. I didn't want all eyes on me and if all eyes ever were on me, I would hope that it would be for something they could be proud of me for.
But in the end, I guess what they have chosen to believe and what I choose to believe should not depend on or dictate the other. I just want to be at peace with this. Until then, I'm agnostic like I have been since high school, because humans all need labels and I'm sure whoever created this damn challenge had a label implied when they asked about our views on religion.
...And now I resent you challenge. Curse you for making me be honest with myself! I am going to finish you just to spite you!
Plus, I actually feel like I've let my readers and myself down for not keeping to the challenge, so I figure now is a great time to commit to something I've already committed to, and what better way to do so by starting with the topic I have been dreading all week? Let the religious talk commence!
(Deep breath)
Day whatever: Your views on religion.
Honestly, I don't think I am ready to even be honest with myself about my own views. I am at a stage in my life where talking to someone or something that I feel has never heard my prayers in the first place is a little ridiculous. However, my want to believe in something is very strong. I expect that with time, I will find myself comfortable with a set of beliefs that suit me. Either I have to search for it or the faith will be delivered to me instead. Right now, I am more focused on finding myself and believing in myself.
If their is a God, I'm sure He is patient and will wait for me as I have been waiting for him. We just have to find one another at the right moment. Right now is not that moment.
I still get a sense of wonder and respect when I enter a church, and surprisingly, the feeling gives me hope that perhaps God never left me. I lose that hope during prayer though. I feel empty and even look forward to the Amen so I can stop pretending that I am speaking with God. I have not and never have experienced any connection with Him. When people tell me to thank God for my success and for what I have, I think to myself, "But I worked for these things, not him." Why give credit to something that has never seemed to help me before? As a step to being honest with myself, I have to admit that for a while I believed that religion as a whole was kind of silly. Now I crave a sense of spiritual direction and faith. I am tired of believing that you only have yourself in the end. I am just afraid that if I do end up believing in something, I'll just be let down and feel more alone than I had before.
For a long time I've followed blindly in the shadow of my family's faith because I feared that if I strayed, I would be looked at as the different one, the one that they all had to save from the flames. I didn't want all eyes on me and if all eyes ever were on me, I would hope that it would be for something they could be proud of me for.
But in the end, I guess what they have chosen to believe and what I choose to believe should not depend on or dictate the other. I just want to be at peace with this. Until then, I'm agnostic like I have been since high school, because humans all need labels and I'm sure whoever created this damn challenge had a label implied when they asked about our views on religion.
...And now I resent you challenge. Curse you for making me be honest with myself! I am going to finish you just to spite you!
Saturday
I find it sad that it took me all day to create this list. Just sad.
I am a terrible person and I don't care! I am avoiding the religion post! There, I said it! Don't judge me! I have my reasons! I am not yelling because I feel guilty, okay!?
Day whatever: 30 interesting things about me
1. I have a cat named Stella.
2. My sense of style changes from day to day.
3. Most of the men in my family are or were in some branch of the military.
4. I have no self control when it comes to food.
5. My favorite color changes frequently.
6. I can sing choral music but have no radio voice whatsoever.
7. I don't know how to ride a bike.
8. I firmly believe that Japanese cartoons are the shit and I thoroughly enjoy video games of any sort.
9. I come from a family of writers.
10. I often get the impulse to dance, even when there is no music.
11. I am currently writing a musical and a novel.
12. My worse fear is not being able to have children.
13. I am anemic and often faint.
14. I can relate most of my life to That 70's Show.
15. I want to be a soccer mom. Football and baseball's cool too. Anything where I can scream profanities in the stands.
16. I am a balance between country and city girl, so I prefer small towns.
17. I work at a hookah lounge.
18. I met my boyfriend in an online writing community.
19. My family is obsessed with Disney World.
20. I am a complete wine-o.
21. My favorite shisha flavor is blackberry/ambrosia.
22. I am actually pretty shy when I meet new people.
23. I love the feeling of the sun on my face.
24. I used to dye my hair every four months.
25. When I was in middle school, I was obsessed with Ewan McGregor.
26. My favorite flower is a tulip.
27. I've always been fascinated by literature of any type.
28. My first chosen major was Child Development
29. I am constantly writing lines of my book in my head.
30. No matter what, the movie "Click" ALWAYS makes me cry.
Day whatever: 30 interesting things about me
1. I have a cat named Stella.
2. My sense of style changes from day to day.
3. Most of the men in my family are or were in some branch of the military.
4. I have no self control when it comes to food.
5. My favorite color changes frequently.
6. I can sing choral music but have no radio voice whatsoever.
7. I don't know how to ride a bike.
8. I firmly believe that Japanese cartoons are the shit and I thoroughly enjoy video games of any sort.
9. I come from a family of writers.
10. I often get the impulse to dance, even when there is no music.
11. I am currently writing a musical and a novel.
12. My worse fear is not being able to have children.
13. I am anemic and often faint.
14. I can relate most of my life to That 70's Show.
15. I want to be a soccer mom. Football and baseball's cool too. Anything where I can scream profanities in the stands.
16. I am a balance between country and city girl, so I prefer small towns.
17. I work at a hookah lounge.
18. I met my boyfriend in an online writing community.
19. My family is obsessed with Disney World.
20. I am a complete wine-o.
21. My favorite shisha flavor is blackberry/ambrosia.
22. I am actually pretty shy when I meet new people.
23. I love the feeling of the sun on my face.
24. I used to dye my hair every four months.
25. When I was in middle school, I was obsessed with Ewan McGregor.
26. My favorite flower is a tulip.
27. I've always been fascinated by literature of any type.
28. My first chosen major was Child Development
29. I am constantly writing lines of my book in my head.
30. No matter what, the movie "Click" ALWAYS makes me cry.
Friday
True Life: Working at a Hookah Lounge
Clearly I am avoiding this religious post that I am supposed to write. Curse being binded to an imaginary contract of posting these topics! I broke the rules once and nothing bad happened, but I don't want to test my luck because I obviously have none. So before I move onto the Blog Challenge I so willfully am partaking in, here is a little taste of a typical shift at the lounge with Katie. Firstly, to encourage our customers to try mixes, we have an ever changing menu of staff favorites. So lately all of the members of the staff have been concocting mixes in hopes of having their names posted on the menu. It's cool when people approach the counter and ask for a mix of mine. Recently, Michaela and I created a banana flavor that I am addicted too. It'll be on the menu soon and I've been pushing for people to test it out. Here's what happened:
Me: "OH MY GOD KATIE."
Katie: "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
Me: "I want you to smoke this, then I dare you to tell me that it's shit."
Katie: "It probably is." (inhales)
Me: "Well?"
Katie: "Oh God it's glorious!"
Me: "I know!"
Katie: "It's the best thing I've ever put in my face!"
Me: "That's what she-"
Katie: "Don't you dare."
Me: "I'm telling your boyfriend."
Later...
Katie: I want to create a flavor called "The Flying Dutchman."
Me: "That's a fabulous idea! It can taste like corpses!"
Katie: (laughing) "That's a great idea."
Me: (from the bathroom, my voice echoing) "...and treasure!"
Katie: "That can be the description. 'Tastes like treasure!'"
Me: "Everyone will order it. So many people... if we keep the taste of corpse on the down low."
Katie: "Agreed."
Me: "I wish half of the conversations we have back here were recorded. We could totally have a reality show. We are highly entertaining."
Katie: "Yeah, like Miami Ink."
Me: "I can picture it now. When people come in and order a flavor, they can talk for thirty minutes about how the flavor symbolizes a moment in their lives that they will never forget."
Katie: "...this flavor reminds me of my childhood."
Me: "Forever stained on my lungs. Like a tattoo!"
Later...
Katie: I wanted to create my own flavor with blackberry in it.
Me: Blackberry Margarita's never been done I think.
Katie: I thought so too! Until I saw Hoot post this Blackberry-Margarita concoction on Facebook. I was like, CURSE YOU HOOT."
Me: That man has a lot of time on his hands. He can read minds too I think.
Katie: And ruin my life.
Later...
(Katie is in the front room assisting customers. I have the sudden urge to sell me and Michaela's Banana Cream Pie flavor.)
Katie: "...If you like apple flavors, I highly recommend Fahkfahkina."
Customers: "That sounds good. We will-"
Me: (bursting from the curtain in the back) "DO YOU LIKE BANANAS!?"
Customers: (stare fearfully in my direction)
Katie: Oh my God, Jessica. Could you be anymore creepy?"
Me: "I'm helping!" (looking at the customers) "Answer me!"
Customers: "Oh, um, yes, uh."
Me: "Order my flavor instead."
Customers: (After they taste my flavor) "We'll go with the Fahkfahkina."
Me: "CURSES."
Katie: (strutting into the back with me) "That was a fail."
Me: "I don't want to talk about it. Clearly mine was the better of the two."
Katie: "That's why they ordered something else. ...That they've never tried."
Me: "...Bitch."
And that's my job folks.
Me: "OH MY GOD KATIE."
Katie: "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
Me: "I want you to smoke this, then I dare you to tell me that it's shit."
Katie: "It probably is." (inhales)
Me: "Well?"
Katie: "Oh God it's glorious!"
Me: "I know!"
Katie: "It's the best thing I've ever put in my face!"
Me: "That's what she-"
Katie: "Don't you dare."
Me: "I'm telling your boyfriend."
Later...
Katie: I want to create a flavor called "The Flying Dutchman."
Me: "That's a fabulous idea! It can taste like corpses!"
Katie: (laughing) "That's a great idea."
Me: (from the bathroom, my voice echoing) "...and treasure!"
Katie: "That can be the description. 'Tastes like treasure!'"
Me: "Everyone will order it. So many people... if we keep the taste of corpse on the down low."
Katie: "Agreed."
Me: "I wish half of the conversations we have back here were recorded. We could totally have a reality show. We are highly entertaining."
Katie: "Yeah, like Miami Ink."
Me: "I can picture it now. When people come in and order a flavor, they can talk for thirty minutes about how the flavor symbolizes a moment in their lives that they will never forget."
Katie: "...this flavor reminds me of my childhood."
Me: "Forever stained on my lungs. Like a tattoo!"
Later...
Katie: I wanted to create my own flavor with blackberry in it.
Me: Blackberry Margarita's never been done I think.
Katie: I thought so too! Until I saw Hoot post this Blackberry-Margarita concoction on Facebook. I was like, CURSE YOU HOOT."
Me: That man has a lot of time on his hands. He can read minds too I think.
Katie: And ruin my life.
Later...
(Katie is in the front room assisting customers. I have the sudden urge to sell me and Michaela's Banana Cream Pie flavor.)
Katie: "...If you like apple flavors, I highly recommend Fahkfahkina."
Customers: "That sounds good. We will-"
Me: (bursting from the curtain in the back) "DO YOU LIKE BANANAS!?"
Customers: (stare fearfully in my direction)
Katie: Oh my God, Jessica. Could you be anymore creepy?"
Me: "I'm helping!" (looking at the customers) "Answer me!"
Customers: "Oh, um, yes, uh."
Me: "Order my flavor instead."
Customers: (After they taste my flavor) "We'll go with the Fahkfahkina."
Me: "CURSES."
Katie: (strutting into the back with me) "That was a fail."
Me: "I don't want to talk about it. Clearly mine was the better of the two."
Katie: "That's why they ordered something else. ...That they've never tried."
Me: "...Bitch."
And that's my job folks.
Thursday
What day is it again?
I have been putting off this post all day. At first I was excited. I logged on as soon as the shouts of children outside of my door and the crash of plastic toys colliding became too much for my REM cycle and it decided that enough was enough. I was still a little out of it and I vaguely even remember logging on. That's how pumped I was to post today. My subconscious acted for me.
Then I saw the topic that I was supposed to write on and I chose to study instead.
Now that I am finished studying and have already put off writing with another DVD of That 70's Show, I am faced with a dilemma presented on the computer screen I so frequently visit. Either I write the truth for fear that my friends and family will be exposed to something I've managed to keep somewhat under wraps, or let loose a secret that defines a period of my life that I am not very proud of.
So here's the topic: A time I thought about ending my own life.
Here we go.
Freshmen year of high school was a disaster. The school year started off with a phone call from a friend telling me that my ex-boyfriend from two years previous had died in a car accident. I took his death very hard. What made it worse was that specific friend reminding me that before his passing, he had planned to ask her out. I was bitter toward her for a while after that. His interest in her was all she seemed to recollect about his life, and she flaunted it. But every night that led up to his funeral, I was wounded by the regret of not trying harder to make it work between us. Maybe then I would be happy like I was when I was with him. Maybe then he wouldn't have sneaked out for a late night drive.
I decided not to attend his funeral for one reason: the last time I saw him, he was smiling and laughing and was asking me to write something in his yearbook. I don't remember what I wrote, but I hope it reminded him of what a wonderful person I thought he was. I knew that if I went to his funeral, that would have been the last picture of him ingrained in my memory, and I didn't want that for either of us. He deserved to be remembered in the way that I remember him now.
As time heals most, it healed me, but only after a series of events occurred that warped my views on life, friendship, and love. My attitude had darkened and remained so for an extended period of time. My friends had little patience for it and cut contact with me. I was encouraged to end my own life by someone whose heart I had apparently broken. My friends practically dared me to do it, but did not fail to mention that they would not be attending my funeral if I had done so. I guess they had a different philosophy on funerals than I had. My parents' relationship was facing a rough patch that was not easily overcome. All of this hit me like a train, and I deteriorated beneath it.
Mom mentioned therapy. My therapy was my writing. Staring off into space helped too sometimes.
The idea of ending my own life occurred frequently during that time. With my friends gone, I had no one to talk to about what I was going through. They had all blocked my number and ducked away from me in the halls at school. The only person who had stuck around to pick up the pieces was an ocean away and was the boyfriend of one of the girls who stopped talking to me. He tried his best to keep his interactions with me under wraps for fear of more unwarranted conflict, but eventually I didn't hear from him either. I fantasized about dying, and out of spite did I envision all of these people attending my funeral, feeling sorry for every time they had ever hurt me or left me alone to deal with myself. I wanted to die to pass my suffering onto them. I wanted them to feel the way that they had made me feel, but worse. I felt so much and so little at the same time. It is an emotion as twisted and as undefinable as love. You simply have to experience it to know what it is.
That was when I cut myself. At school, I saw lines embedded in teen wrists all of the time and I scoffed, believing that the cuts were a cry for attention, that they were pathetic.
And they are cries for attention. But when I cut myself, I wasn't doing it in hopes of bleeding out, and I wasn't doing it so that people at school or at home would see them. I did not wear the cuts like trophies as some people do.
I hid them.
I was ashamed of them.
I hated them.
I hated myself for making them.
I was just so desperate for some other form of pain to distract me from what I was feeling. It worked too. For a moment I wasn't so focused on losing a friend, being lonely, being ignored, or possibly living in a divided house. I was focused on the shame of making myself bleed for the sake of having a temporary release from everything. The worst is that the scars are still there, always reminding me of what I went though and what I was willing to do to myself to escape from it.
Recently I had a friend who mentioned wanting to chug bleach. I was on that situation like nobody's business. My own experiences led me in that direction. I had to be the friend that I didn't have so many years ago. But when I called my other friends to ask if they had heard anything from this friend, I received a series of aggravating responses.
"Oh, she'll be fine. She does this a lot."
"It doesn't mean anything. She won't do it."
"Well do you want me to go over there? ...I'm kind of busy."
I was disgusted. I was angry. I was terrified. And it reminded me of when I was crying out for help and no one showed up to do so because they didn't take me seriously enough to be concerned for me.
My advice here is directed to those who have a friend who is in the rut and obviously needs help. Do not ignore them, because their cries for you could be communicated in different ways. Maybe they get mad at you more often. They might even yell at you. They might even ask you to leave them alone. But do not let them get to the point of wanting to die. They may fight you the entire time, and they could hate you after all is said and done, but as a friend you did your job. You kept them alive. You don't get a trophy for doing so, but helping a friend overcome a trial like that should be good enough.
Ways of contacting me are littered all over this damn site. If you are or feel alone and are facing something that seems impossible to overcome, please, email me. Talk to me. If the people around you fail to be a friend, I will gladly step in and substitute for them. Remember, help comes in many forms. I may not be able to offer physical consolation, but as a writer, I will gladly offer to you my words.
So now you know.
(Okay, I know. I fail at following directions. That is why I drove boss man back at work insane during my first month at the lounge. But I am sorry kids. I put too much effort into this, so the rules of the challenge are just going to have to be broken. Plus, I read the challenge while half asleep. You can't blame me. But don't worry, I will cover religion tomorrow. Maybe. I would rather talk about THIS than religion right now. Stupid funeral protesters can kiss my gay friendly and soldier supporting ass.)
Then I saw the topic that I was supposed to write on and I chose to study instead.
Now that I am finished studying and have already put off writing with another DVD of That 70's Show, I am faced with a dilemma presented on the computer screen I so frequently visit. Either I write the truth for fear that my friends and family will be exposed to something I've managed to keep somewhat under wraps, or let loose a secret that defines a period of my life that I am not very proud of.
So here's the topic: A time I thought about ending my own life.
Here we go.
Freshmen year of high school was a disaster. The school year started off with a phone call from a friend telling me that my ex-boyfriend from two years previous had died in a car accident. I took his death very hard. What made it worse was that specific friend reminding me that before his passing, he had planned to ask her out. I was bitter toward her for a while after that. His interest in her was all she seemed to recollect about his life, and she flaunted it. But every night that led up to his funeral, I was wounded by the regret of not trying harder to make it work between us. Maybe then I would be happy like I was when I was with him. Maybe then he wouldn't have sneaked out for a late night drive.
I decided not to attend his funeral for one reason: the last time I saw him, he was smiling and laughing and was asking me to write something in his yearbook. I don't remember what I wrote, but I hope it reminded him of what a wonderful person I thought he was. I knew that if I went to his funeral, that would have been the last picture of him ingrained in my memory, and I didn't want that for either of us. He deserved to be remembered in the way that I remember him now.
As time heals most, it healed me, but only after a series of events occurred that warped my views on life, friendship, and love. My attitude had darkened and remained so for an extended period of time. My friends had little patience for it and cut contact with me. I was encouraged to end my own life by someone whose heart I had apparently broken. My friends practically dared me to do it, but did not fail to mention that they would not be attending my funeral if I had done so. I guess they had a different philosophy on funerals than I had. My parents' relationship was facing a rough patch that was not easily overcome. All of this hit me like a train, and I deteriorated beneath it.
Mom mentioned therapy. My therapy was my writing. Staring off into space helped too sometimes.
The idea of ending my own life occurred frequently during that time. With my friends gone, I had no one to talk to about what I was going through. They had all blocked my number and ducked away from me in the halls at school. The only person who had stuck around to pick up the pieces was an ocean away and was the boyfriend of one of the girls who stopped talking to me. He tried his best to keep his interactions with me under wraps for fear of more unwarranted conflict, but eventually I didn't hear from him either. I fantasized about dying, and out of spite did I envision all of these people attending my funeral, feeling sorry for every time they had ever hurt me or left me alone to deal with myself. I wanted to die to pass my suffering onto them. I wanted them to feel the way that they had made me feel, but worse. I felt so much and so little at the same time. It is an emotion as twisted and as undefinable as love. You simply have to experience it to know what it is.
That was when I cut myself. At school, I saw lines embedded in teen wrists all of the time and I scoffed, believing that the cuts were a cry for attention, that they were pathetic.
And they are cries for attention. But when I cut myself, I wasn't doing it in hopes of bleeding out, and I wasn't doing it so that people at school or at home would see them. I did not wear the cuts like trophies as some people do.
I hid them.
I was ashamed of them.
I hated them.
I hated myself for making them.
I was just so desperate for some other form of pain to distract me from what I was feeling. It worked too. For a moment I wasn't so focused on losing a friend, being lonely, being ignored, or possibly living in a divided house. I was focused on the shame of making myself bleed for the sake of having a temporary release from everything. The worst is that the scars are still there, always reminding me of what I went though and what I was willing to do to myself to escape from it.
Recently I had a friend who mentioned wanting to chug bleach. I was on that situation like nobody's business. My own experiences led me in that direction. I had to be the friend that I didn't have so many years ago. But when I called my other friends to ask if they had heard anything from this friend, I received a series of aggravating responses.
"Oh, she'll be fine. She does this a lot."
"It doesn't mean anything. She won't do it."
"Well do you want me to go over there? ...I'm kind of busy."
I was disgusted. I was angry. I was terrified. And it reminded me of when I was crying out for help and no one showed up to do so because they didn't take me seriously enough to be concerned for me.
My advice here is directed to those who have a friend who is in the rut and obviously needs help. Do not ignore them, because their cries for you could be communicated in different ways. Maybe they get mad at you more often. They might even yell at you. They might even ask you to leave them alone. But do not let them get to the point of wanting to die. They may fight you the entire time, and they could hate you after all is said and done, but as a friend you did your job. You kept them alive. You don't get a trophy for doing so, but helping a friend overcome a trial like that should be good enough.
Ways of contacting me are littered all over this damn site. If you are or feel alone and are facing something that seems impossible to overcome, please, email me. Talk to me. If the people around you fail to be a friend, I will gladly step in and substitute for them. Remember, help comes in many forms. I may not be able to offer physical consolation, but as a writer, I will gladly offer to you my words.
So now you know.
(Okay, I know. I fail at following directions. That is why I drove boss man back at work insane during my first month at the lounge. But I am sorry kids. I put too much effort into this, so the rules of the challenge are just going to have to be broken. Plus, I read the challenge while half asleep. You can't blame me. But don't worry, I will cover religion tomorrow. Maybe. I would rather talk about THIS than religion right now. Stupid funeral protesters can kiss my gay friendly and soldier supporting ass.)
Wednesday
Day Three: Drugs are bad m'kay... sometimes.
Day Three of Super Awesome Challenge: Your views on drugs and alcohol.
The only recreational drug that I do not have an issue with is marijuana. Medically, I think that the fact that it is controversial is hilarious. If marijuana is outlawed because people find that it is abused, then maybe alcohol should be too. There are plenty of substances that are abused, even prescriptions. It's unavoidable. Make it legal and at least the government will see some sort of revenue from it. God knows we need it. I'd imagine that American citizens will be too chill to be angry as well. It's a win win.
And I like wine. ...That's my view on that.
Okay, I know this is supposed to be all deep and thought out, but school started for me today. Returning after a summer plus a semester of educational freedom makes it hard to sit in a chair and listen to lectures all day. Luckily I enjoyed my classes, and the content we are about to touch base on is pretty interesting. (I'm learning about a Native American tribe that thought the world was molded from chest perspiration. You would pay attention in class too.) So I am a little out of it because I am already making it a point to review, study, review, and study some more. I am focused like nobody's business yo.
...because Mike is too busy to distract me so I am bored most of the time. May as well make some A's while I'm at it. Perhaps indulge in the previous subject matter as well. Eh eh?
The only recreational drug that I do not have an issue with is marijuana. Medically, I think that the fact that it is controversial is hilarious. If marijuana is outlawed because people find that it is abused, then maybe alcohol should be too. There are plenty of substances that are abused, even prescriptions. It's unavoidable. Make it legal and at least the government will see some sort of revenue from it. God knows we need it. I'd imagine that American citizens will be too chill to be angry as well. It's a win win.
And I like wine. ...That's my view on that.
Okay, I know this is supposed to be all deep and thought out, but school started for me today. Returning after a summer plus a semester of educational freedom makes it hard to sit in a chair and listen to lectures all day. Luckily I enjoyed my classes, and the content we are about to touch base on is pretty interesting. (I'm learning about a Native American tribe that thought the world was molded from chest perspiration. You would pay attention in class too.) So I am a little out of it because I am already making it a point to review, study, review, and study some more. I am focused like nobody's business yo.
...because Mike is too busy to distract me so I am bored most of the time. May as well make some A's while I'm at it. Perhaps indulge in the previous subject matter as well. Eh eh?
Tuesday
Day Two: When I'm thirty, I plan to be awesome
Day Two of Super Awesome Challenge: Where you'd like to be in ten years.
I might find this the easiest to answer though it may not be the easiest to achieve. Of course I would like to be married and have children by the time I hit thirty. If anything I believe I was born to be a Mom. But I have a restless spirit and imagination, and have always strived to become a better writer. I am currently working on a novel and a musical, both of which I'd like to be out in the world by then. I am currently in the mindset, established by a pep talk from Michael, that I should go big or go home. As a writer, I owe it to myself to expand my storytelling to different genres and forms. Screenplay has always interested me, and music is another passion of mine.
I guess what I am trying to say is, family is somewhat of a given, but really pursuing dreams many dub unrealistic is going to lead me to where I'd like to be in ten years: a well known writer, known for my diversity.
Other tidbits I would like to achieve by the age of thirty: getting my Masters in English with an emphasis in creative writing, visiting Ireland, and maybe, just maybe white river rafting rrrrrapid thingy.
Yes, yes, and yes.
I might find this the easiest to answer though it may not be the easiest to achieve. Of course I would like to be married and have children by the time I hit thirty. If anything I believe I was born to be a Mom. But I have a restless spirit and imagination, and have always strived to become a better writer. I am currently working on a novel and a musical, both of which I'd like to be out in the world by then. I am currently in the mindset, established by a pep talk from Michael, that I should go big or go home. As a writer, I owe it to myself to expand my storytelling to different genres and forms. Screenplay has always interested me, and music is another passion of mine.
I guess what I am trying to say is, family is somewhat of a given, but really pursuing dreams many dub unrealistic is going to lead me to where I'd like to be in ten years: a well known writer, known for my diversity.
Other tidbits I would like to achieve by the age of thirty: getting my Masters in English with an emphasis in creative writing, visiting Ireland, and maybe, just maybe white river rafting rrrrrapid thingy.
Yes, yes, and yes.
The best ideas come when discussing business endeavors with people who share my sense of humor
FYI: My boss posted this.
FYI: Me and Katie totally said that before I left work.
FY- I HAVE THE BEST JOB KNOWN TO MAN.
Monday
Day One: Me & Michael
Firstly, in reference to the BIG FAT LIE on my previous post, I am sorry that I did not start the challenge yesterday as promised. I passed out while watching Red Forman hate on Eric. What's new?
So here we go.
Day One of Super Awesome Challenge:
"Describe your current relationship. If single, describe how single life is."
As most of my avid readers know already, I am in a relationship with a Coastie who is currently studying in Petaluma, CA to become an EMT. What all of you do not know is how our relationship came to be. The story is messy, chaotic, and as some say, "could totally be a romance novel." I agree with all of these descriptions. But it is easier to round the five years we spent as friends online into a few words. The difficult part is really spelling it out for people who do not understand the dynamics of meeting people virtually. It is scary as Hell and can really warp your sense of who is person is and who you fantasize them to be.
The difference is that when I met Michael online, he was everything I had already fantasized the man of my dreams to be: intelligent, relaxed, understanding, mysterious, charming, and compassionate. I say mysterious because I don't want him to give everything away on day one, but meeting someone online? Well, it comes with the territory. Then again, how can you truly know someone online? Well, at first, I really didn't. But the more we talked the more we opened up to one another. God, did I fall hard.
But what can I say? He lived in New York and I was a Texan girl still working on graduating high school.
We both found relationships elsewhere, but remained good friends... with a lot of tension remaining between us. I won't discuss the nature of the tension, but let's just say that eventually, it made being in a relationship with someone else very difficult for the both of us. (Not THAT kind of tension, perverts.)
It was a rotten situation for all sides and it was unfair for my boyfriend at the time, but the realization that I deserved better was gifted to me by his actions, not my own. It is hard to stay true to oneself while staying true to another, but I managed to do so successfully until the relationship that I was involved in collapsed in on itself years later. It was then, though I was devastated, that I found it easier to decider the code in my head that disguised what (or in this case, WHO) I was really made for and who was made for me.
Last March we both found ourselves available, and it was then, after all of the waiting, that he decided that enough was enough. During all of the years we spent apart, Michael enlisted in the Coast Guard and was sent to Homer, Alaska for a two year period of buoy tending. And let me tell you, it's not an easy job guys. But he still made time for me, a whole week of leave to be exact. He bought me a plane ticket to fly up there so we could finally know. There was doubt, this fear that maybe we were fooling ourselves. But I was most vulnerable to the even scarier thought of never knowing. I was also still in pieces from the previous and fresh break up.
The moment I saw him was like the moment on the ice in the movie Serendipity. Oh yeah. I found my soul mate kids. What makes me giddy is knowing that this is just the beginning.
So here we go.
Day One of Super Awesome Challenge:
"Describe your current relationship. If single, describe how single life is."
As most of my avid readers know already, I am in a relationship with a Coastie who is currently studying in Petaluma, CA to become an EMT. What all of you do not know is how our relationship came to be. The story is messy, chaotic, and as some say, "could totally be a romance novel." I agree with all of these descriptions. But it is easier to round the five years we spent as friends online into a few words. The difficult part is really spelling it out for people who do not understand the dynamics of meeting people virtually. It is scary as Hell and can really warp your sense of who is person is and who you fantasize them to be.
The difference is that when I met Michael online, he was everything I had already fantasized the man of my dreams to be: intelligent, relaxed, understanding, mysterious, charming, and compassionate. I say mysterious because I don't want him to give everything away on day one, but meeting someone online? Well, it comes with the territory. Then again, how can you truly know someone online? Well, at first, I really didn't. But the more we talked the more we opened up to one another. God, did I fall hard.
But what can I say? He lived in New York and I was a Texan girl still working on graduating high school.
We both found relationships elsewhere, but remained good friends... with a lot of tension remaining between us. I won't discuss the nature of the tension, but let's just say that eventually, it made being in a relationship with someone else very difficult for the both of us. (Not THAT kind of tension, perverts.)
It was a rotten situation for all sides and it was unfair for my boyfriend at the time, but the realization that I deserved better was gifted to me by his actions, not my own. It is hard to stay true to oneself while staying true to another, but I managed to do so successfully until the relationship that I was involved in collapsed in on itself years later. It was then, though I was devastated, that I found it easier to decider the code in my head that disguised what (or in this case, WHO) I was really made for and who was made for me.
Last March we both found ourselves available, and it was then, after all of the waiting, that he decided that enough was enough. During all of the years we spent apart, Michael enlisted in the Coast Guard and was sent to Homer, Alaska for a two year period of buoy tending. And let me tell you, it's not an easy job guys. But he still made time for me, a whole week of leave to be exact. He bought me a plane ticket to fly up there so we could finally know. There was doubt, this fear that maybe we were fooling ourselves. But I was most vulnerable to the even scarier thought of never knowing. I was also still in pieces from the previous and fresh break up.
The moment I saw him was like the moment on the ice in the movie Serendipity. Oh yeah. I found my soul mate kids. What makes me giddy is knowing that this is just the beginning.
Sunday
I have decided to participate in a challenge at 1:30 am! "Woohoo?"
...bum bum BUM!
Plus, If I wimp out in the middle of it, that'd be a follow up epic fail.
Until tomorrow!
Friday
"Epic fail"
The other night, because I am a super awesome girlfriend, I made cookies and peppermint bark for Michael to add to the package of Christmas presents I planned to send to him in Petaluma. I sneaked a bite of each to make sure they were boyfriend quality... and also because I have a problem not consuming baked goods when they are placed in front of me. That's one reason why I consider the holidays the scariest and most regretful time of each and every year.
I went to the post office to send the package Mike's way and discovered that it would be cheaper to divide my rather large box into two smaller boxes. (That makes little sense to me, but hey person behind the counter, you're the boss!) So because I am frugal, I took the box to the side of the counter and began distributing Christmas presents, cookies, peppermint bark, and pieces of the disassembled steamer that I got him and folded the boxes up.
"Tada!" I said victoriously.
"Oh, you're not supposed to fold them on the bottom like that."
I looked at the boxes in shame, the glory of my speedy transferal ruined. I think I even pouted.
"Look, it's okay! I'll just..."
The man opened up the bottom of the box cautiously, taped it up, and began typing something on the computer. The other box was in my line of sight and a line was beginning to develop behind me. So I, trying to be time efficient, decided that I should work on fixing the other box while the man did his thing. Only when I opened the bottom of the box, parts of the steamer and cookies flew out onto the counter. Yeah. There were so many mental groans occurring behind me they were almost audible. I stared at the box in the same manner of defeat as before. When the man turned around he actually face palmed, and I followed suit. I reached forward to fix the mess that I had caused, but I was stopped when spotting the man's hand in the air. "No, no please. Let me."
"Thank you," I squeaked. I left with my head ducked down in embarrassment, though I usually laugh when I'm nervous. But I could have sworn, though it may have been my subconscious, someone whispered "epic fail" just before I left the post office.
Yeah. I got in my car real fast.
I went to the post office to send the package Mike's way and discovered that it would be cheaper to divide my rather large box into two smaller boxes. (That makes little sense to me, but hey person behind the counter, you're the boss!) So because I am frugal, I took the box to the side of the counter and began distributing Christmas presents, cookies, peppermint bark, and pieces of the disassembled steamer that I got him and folded the boxes up.
"Tada!" I said victoriously.
"Oh, you're not supposed to fold them on the bottom like that."
I looked at the boxes in shame, the glory of my speedy transferal ruined. I think I even pouted.
"Look, it's okay! I'll just..."
The man opened up the bottom of the box cautiously, taped it up, and began typing something on the computer. The other box was in my line of sight and a line was beginning to develop behind me. So I, trying to be time efficient, decided that I should work on fixing the other box while the man did his thing. Only when I opened the bottom of the box, parts of the steamer and cookies flew out onto the counter. Yeah. There were so many mental groans occurring behind me they were almost audible. I stared at the box in the same manner of defeat as before. When the man turned around he actually face palmed, and I followed suit. I reached forward to fix the mess that I had caused, but I was stopped when spotting the man's hand in the air. "No, no please. Let me."
"Thank you," I squeaked. I left with my head ducked down in embarrassment, though I usually laugh when I'm nervous. But I could have sworn, though it may have been my subconscious, someone whispered "epic fail" just before I left the post office.
Yeah. I got in my car real fast.
Tuesday
Hope in the midst of educational disaster
So you would think that returning to college after a semester off would be stressful enough, right? Oh ho ho, my blog viewers. Oh ho ho... no. You have no idea. You see, I was in Alaska when class registration occurred. It was also during registration that I was experiencing the brief mindset that returning to Texas State for a semester before transferring would be a waste of time and money since I wasn't sure if all of my credits would carry over. So, I have decided that returning when I am so close to graduating anyway would be the better option, especially after being provided with a piece of paper that showed me just how close I really am to walking the stage. And God knows that I just want to get my freakin' degree already.
Late registration was this morning at exactly eight a.m. I woke up, snatched my laptop, and logged in online to search for open classes.
(Background information: I thought that registration was yesterday so when I got up to search for open classes I discovered that all the classes that I need are full up. Closed. Unavailable. Out of reach. Shit cloud hath returneth.)
This morning one class had suddenly opened up. I assume someone had dropped the course or God had bestowed upon me the gift of me not wanting to tear my own hair out. Now, I usually do background checks on my professors on http://blog.ratemyprofessors.com/, but at first glance, I knew I had hit jackpot. The professor was my essay writing instructor during freshman year. He is and was by far the most inspiring, influential, and encouraging teachers I have ever had. Period.
...which means that today was better than I had expected. I am going to have to fight with my claws extended to get into the rest of these mandatory courses, but at least at the start of every Monday and Wednesday I'll be with someone that really made my major interesting. Not many people find professors like that. Not many professors like that exist.
Late registration was this morning at exactly eight a.m. I woke up, snatched my laptop, and logged in online to search for open classes.
(Background information: I thought that registration was yesterday so when I got up to search for open classes I discovered that all the classes that I need are full up. Closed. Unavailable. Out of reach. Shit cloud hath returneth.)
This morning one class had suddenly opened up. I assume someone had dropped the course or God had bestowed upon me the gift of me not wanting to tear my own hair out. Now, I usually do background checks on my professors on http://blog.ratemyprofessors.com/, but at first glance, I knew I had hit jackpot. The professor was my essay writing instructor during freshman year. He is and was by far the most inspiring, influential, and encouraging teachers I have ever had. Period.
...which means that today was better than I had expected. I am going to have to fight with my claws extended to get into the rest of these mandatory courses, but at least at the start of every Monday and Wednesday I'll be with someone that really made my major interesting. Not many people find professors like that. Not many professors like that exist.
Sunday
A night of Facebook and hair gel
A few days ago I decided to venture out into the night and travel to San Marcos where two good friend awaited my arrival. I really needed to get out of the house. Don't get me wrong, I love living with my folks, but I am social and need someone to converse with after 9 pm every night. Plus I enjoy the long drives and it felt wonderful outside.
And who could I depend on to remain awake into the odd hours of the night? RYAN AND CASEY OF COURSE! When I lived in San Marcos sophomore year they were my super awesome neighbors, and those are hard to come by so staying in touch is very important.
And who could I depend on to remain awake into the odd hours of the night? RYAN AND CASEY OF COURSE! When I lived in San Marcos sophomore year they were my super awesome neighbors, and those are hard to come by so staying in touch is very important.
Ahem, so when I arrived, I was feeling mischievous and ornery. I sneeked onto Casey's laptop and performed the following:
I'M ORIGINAL!
Ryan was observing over my shoulder and I was pretty friggin' satisfied with myself until Casey spotted me. I think the giggles gave it away... I need to learn to be more stealthy with my Facebook attacks. So he snapped the laptop closed before I could manage to get a screenshot. Just before I resorted to Ryan's desktop in the other room, he bolted, shouting, "I HAVE TO LIKE IT FIRST!"
He is the epitome of youth brainwashed by technology. And it's hilarious.
Casey left the status there for good sport, but decided to be creative with his revenge. And I let him. Because I'm a good sport too.
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| Step one |
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| Step two |
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| Step three |
That shit took FOREVER to get out of my hair. Casey is lucky to have such a good friend.
Wednesday
Insomnia and late night creativity's SPAWN!
I'm too sleepy to expand on why I created this. I probably won't remember it in the morning... so what do I do? I post it here, because God knows this is the first place I go to when I wake up in the mor- afternoon.
Come on. You know you'd buy it.
Wear me on your chest!
Oh God, I really am tired.
Monday
Inspiration intercepted by God punching me in the stomach
I woke up yesterday with a fire in my fingers. I got out of bed with this craving to write and write until my hands were semi-disfigured. You never want to go all the way when it comes to disfigurement. That's serious shit.
It was a lot of writing that I was willing to do right then, which is surprisingly helpful considering that I've been working on a novel for the last six months and have had little inspiration. I think that I could have finished the entire book yesterday if my stomach wasn't attacked by what felt like millions of flesh eating parasites. It was painful and even though it lasted for only a few hours, I was out of commission all day in the creativity department. Thus, no blog post was written and no progress was done on the book. I did discover, however, something worth while about my relationship with my parents.
"Need a bucket?" Mom called from the stairs.
"No. Not yet," I groaned.
"Not yet?! Girl, you'd better make it to the bathroom. You're not five anymore. Get it on the carpet, I kick your ass."
"Kick her ass? You'd be too busy gagging. I would be the one kicking her ass," Dad interjected upon hearing what Mom said.
It was a lot of writing that I was willing to do right then, which is surprisingly helpful considering that I've been working on a novel for the last six months and have had little inspiration. I think that I could have finished the entire book yesterday if my stomach wasn't attacked by what felt like millions of flesh eating parasites. It was painful and even though it lasted for only a few hours, I was out of commission all day in the creativity department. Thus, no blog post was written and no progress was done on the book. I did discover, however, something worth while about my relationship with my parents.
"Need a bucket?" Mom called from the stairs.
"No. Not yet," I groaned.
"Not yet?! Girl, you'd better make it to the bathroom. You're not five anymore. Get it on the carpet, I kick your ass."
"Kick her ass? You'd be too busy gagging. I would be the one kicking her ass," Dad interjected upon hearing what Mom said.
I guess I'm too old for PARENTAL LOVE AND NURTURING!
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