As I was jumping into my new pair of jeans this morning I realized, as I was carefully maneuvering the top around my underwear, that I had put my underwear on inside out. Now, this may not bother the normal/standard human. But it bothers me to no end. What bothers me more is the fact that it bothers me so much that I can not just take them off and turn them right side out because the cotton has already touched my flesh and I can’t have that then touch my unwashed new pair of jeans. I could consider putting on a brand new washed pair of underwear, but then I would have wasted these already clean then soiled pair I have on already. The fact that I know this is probably not a normal person’s line of thinking gives me hope that one day these thoughts will suddenly disappear. The need to wash my hands after touching anything another human has touched it has gradually dissipated over time. Now all that lingers is the fact I just don’t touch certain objects that other humans have touched. Particularly door handles, toilet handles, condiment bottles, telephones, pens or any shiny, non-porous surface where the germs tend to linger-at least in my mind. The invention of the automatic doors was a God-send on so many levels, though I’m sure God, if one does exist, had nothing to do with it. Blasphemy! Whatever.
I was unable to lose that one pound I had hoped to lose before the day of today. Today being my birthday. I guess I should have set my goal a couple of weeks prior instead of just a mere 3 days. I thought I might have lost a pound by some miracle. I spend my days sedentary on my bum at work, my evenings running that same bum off, but then the ice cold beer in the fridge knows just the right way to call me for me to run to it in a zombie-like manner. Before I even realize it the cap is off and half of the cold goodness has already hit the beginnings of my digestive tract. So needless to say, that one pound is somewhere stuck on my body due to Mr. Labatt for I know it’s not my fault…entirely.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
I don't like peas
I have a wedgie. I’ve had it pretty much all day today. I know it’s my underwear. The underwear that every woman says they are the best because you can get away with walking around your house in them, they don’t show lines in tight pants and they are just so dang comfortable. I am not comfortable. Can people tell if you have an underwear wedgie?
I bought a slimmer to wear under this dress I bought. Funny thing is I look the same with or without it on. I have a bit more defined shape with it on, but I guess I really don’t have as many bulges to hide as I thought. Good for me, now only if I could keep it that way after I eat a half of apple.
I hate being in between. The in between where if I eat nothing all day I can just squeeze into a size 2 pair of jeans but as soon as I eat a full meal that button is going to pop. I never aimed at wearing a size 2, it just happened. My goal was a 4 and I was quite happy with that. But now that I am at the in between, I want that size 2. Will the cycle never end?
I like movies just as much as the next person. My idea of a good movie is a little different than most. I like documentaries, movies based on true events and historical accounts. I don’t like sappy, pretentious love stores or stupid comedies that are anything but comedic. I do, however, like the occasional no plot intended action film or true drama that involves the male hero being a dreamy young starlet.
And on a rare occasion I don’t mind grabbing a completely moronic film just to laugh at with a couple of beers and a couple of friends. There is no shame in that and I don’t mind telling people that. At the same time I guess people don’t mind telling me how stupid I am for saying that. Well, I don’t feel stupid because I like to watch a stupid movie once every couple of months. It’s when I open mouth insert foot is when I feel stupid. And I have been doing that more often than not lately. Maybe I need to eat more. Go back up in size instead of trying to go down. No, I don’t think so. I’m just so tired anymore. Too much running not enough eating. Too much thinking not enough doing. Or maybe it’s my lack of pea consumption. I probably eat about 10 peas a year. And it’s the same way an average person swallows about the same amount of spiders-by accident. If I see a pea, I eat around it or pick it out. If I eat a pea, I usually don’t realize it until it’s too late.
I bought a slimmer to wear under this dress I bought. Funny thing is I look the same with or without it on. I have a bit more defined shape with it on, but I guess I really don’t have as many bulges to hide as I thought. Good for me, now only if I could keep it that way after I eat a half of apple.
I hate being in between. The in between where if I eat nothing all day I can just squeeze into a size 2 pair of jeans but as soon as I eat a full meal that button is going to pop. I never aimed at wearing a size 2, it just happened. My goal was a 4 and I was quite happy with that. But now that I am at the in between, I want that size 2. Will the cycle never end?
I like movies just as much as the next person. My idea of a good movie is a little different than most. I like documentaries, movies based on true events and historical accounts. I don’t like sappy, pretentious love stores or stupid comedies that are anything but comedic. I do, however, like the occasional no plot intended action film or true drama that involves the male hero being a dreamy young starlet.
And on a rare occasion I don’t mind grabbing a completely moronic film just to laugh at with a couple of beers and a couple of friends. There is no shame in that and I don’t mind telling people that. At the same time I guess people don’t mind telling me how stupid I am for saying that. Well, I don’t feel stupid because I like to watch a stupid movie once every couple of months. It’s when I open mouth insert foot is when I feel stupid. And I have been doing that more often than not lately. Maybe I need to eat more. Go back up in size instead of trying to go down. No, I don’t think so. I’m just so tired anymore. Too much running not enough eating. Too much thinking not enough doing. Or maybe it’s my lack of pea consumption. I probably eat about 10 peas a year. And it’s the same way an average person swallows about the same amount of spiders-by accident. If I see a pea, I eat around it or pick it out. If I eat a pea, I usually don’t realize it until it’s too late.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Nerf...
I have come to the conclusion I am a very selfish person. No one has come right out and told me this, though I don't know why, but I know I am. I talk to people and listen to people, but I never follow up with people. My friends will tell me important information about their lives. Yes, I will listen and remember what is going on, but do I ever follow up with them? They do all the time, as I pretty much make it a point for them to. Selfish. I have a friend who's mother is in rehab. Do you think I would have taken the time out to see if she is OK, let alone her mother? But did she not send me information pertaining to my injury in hopes that I may heal faster? Does she not ask me how I'm feeling when I seem a bit off?
I have another friend who listens and reads about all my complaining and instead of telling me to shut the fuck up, she says she enjoys the updates. Do I ever ask her on an update from her life?
The real kicker is, I am helping plan a birthday party for my brother. I know he does not want to go, but I told him he had to go. Is that just not the sickest thing ever?
Well, I'm off to the middle of no where this weekend to meet up with some college friends. The trip in itself should be interesting as I am driving alone, after a full days work for almost 4 hours down to Southern Ohio. Well, maybe southwestern. We used to have a blast in college-I swear I would have been a complete dork with a 4.0 GPA and no life what-so-ever if it wasn't for those girls. I have to admit, I'm glad of it. I mean, don't get me wrong, who doesn't want a 4.0 in college, but at the same time, college was a true growing point for me. I learned who I was and what I was capable of. What's that saying? Something about a leaf? Turn the leaf or something-whatever it is, that's what it was for me. That also was when my brother and I became closer. I don't know why; it may have been because he couldn't stand my other sister during that time.
Well, I'm not really writing anything worthy so I will leave it at that. Have a good weekend! No, really, I mean it!
I have another friend who listens and reads about all my complaining and instead of telling me to shut the fuck up, she says she enjoys the updates. Do I ever ask her on an update from her life?
The real kicker is, I am helping plan a birthday party for my brother. I know he does not want to go, but I told him he had to go. Is that just not the sickest thing ever?
Well, I'm off to the middle of no where this weekend to meet up with some college friends. The trip in itself should be interesting as I am driving alone, after a full days work for almost 4 hours down to Southern Ohio. Well, maybe southwestern. We used to have a blast in college-I swear I would have been a complete dork with a 4.0 GPA and no life what-so-ever if it wasn't for those girls. I have to admit, I'm glad of it. I mean, don't get me wrong, who doesn't want a 4.0 in college, but at the same time, college was a true growing point for me. I learned who I was and what I was capable of. What's that saying? Something about a leaf? Turn the leaf or something-whatever it is, that's what it was for me. That also was when my brother and I became closer. I don't know why; it may have been because he couldn't stand my other sister during that time.
Well, I'm not really writing anything worthy so I will leave it at that. Have a good weekend! No, really, I mean it!
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
What?!
Ah! It’s been a long, long time! What have you been up to? Well, I guess I would know if I had been reading people’s blogs and writing my own. I have been tied up with some issues. Mainly called, I’m tired. I have just been so tired all the time I could not get my lazy ass off the couch that was not 5 feet away from the computer to type anything more than a sentence long on to my blog. Just plain laziness is what that is.
Anyway, I have been suffering bouts of depression due to the fact I have injured myself enough that I can no longer run. I’ve tried, believe me, but I just can’t do it. For weeks I have been beating myself up, for what, I don’t know. There was nothing I could do about it. But now, the realization has crept in that what I was doing to help heal myself may have been the wrong thing to do and it was actually hindering any chance of a quick, full recovery. Now I don’t know what to do. But, at least I have found other forms of exercise that excite me almost as much as running. I started cycling and I will eventually go out on the road and do some street biking. The only draw back with that is your bum gets a bit sore in certain places due to the seat. I never understood why the bike seat was made two sized too small for your butt. And there ain’t nobody who fits comfortably on a bike seat without any alterations. You find me that person and I will literally give you my life savings.
I have also started a new program. Jillian Michaels diet and exercise plan. For 30 days the challenge is to get yourself on a strict diet and follow her exercise program to a T and you will lose 10 pounds and be ripped! It is day 3 into the program-granted, it is also my first day ‘off’ from exercise-give it a rest already, will ya? But I am feeling really good about this. The diet thing is the hardest as I have to go shopping to get the proper foods, but my diet thus far has been pretty good that I don’t have to make any major changes. The exercises are KILLER, yet I LOVE it! If I wasn’t in the shape I already am in there would be no way I would be able to make it through an entire rotation. It is hard enough at the level I am at right now. But that is the good thing, you can put as much or little effort as you want into the exercises. I have been going full blast. Granted, it does leave the body a bit sore, but following the program allows for your muscles to take a break while you do other exercises.
For anyone that wants to lose 10 pounds I suggest the Jillian Michaels Making the Cut plan. So far so good! But you have to have the right mind set otherwise you will get disappointed. Also, you will need 30 days out of your life to focus on hard core exercise and NOT on partying. I picked the wrong month for that…
Ever wonder what the morality level is for a person who leaves a large bill in the collection basket, yet takes out a couple smaller bills as ‘change’? I mean, technically they are leaving a donation, right?
Anyway, I have been suffering bouts of depression due to the fact I have injured myself enough that I can no longer run. I’ve tried, believe me, but I just can’t do it. For weeks I have been beating myself up, for what, I don’t know. There was nothing I could do about it. But now, the realization has crept in that what I was doing to help heal myself may have been the wrong thing to do and it was actually hindering any chance of a quick, full recovery. Now I don’t know what to do. But, at least I have found other forms of exercise that excite me almost as much as running. I started cycling and I will eventually go out on the road and do some street biking. The only draw back with that is your bum gets a bit sore in certain places due to the seat. I never understood why the bike seat was made two sized too small for your butt. And there ain’t nobody who fits comfortably on a bike seat without any alterations. You find me that person and I will literally give you my life savings.
I have also started a new program. Jillian Michaels diet and exercise plan. For 30 days the challenge is to get yourself on a strict diet and follow her exercise program to a T and you will lose 10 pounds and be ripped! It is day 3 into the program-granted, it is also my first day ‘off’ from exercise-give it a rest already, will ya? But I am feeling really good about this. The diet thing is the hardest as I have to go shopping to get the proper foods, but my diet thus far has been pretty good that I don’t have to make any major changes. The exercises are KILLER, yet I LOVE it! If I wasn’t in the shape I already am in there would be no way I would be able to make it through an entire rotation. It is hard enough at the level I am at right now. But that is the good thing, you can put as much or little effort as you want into the exercises. I have been going full blast. Granted, it does leave the body a bit sore, but following the program allows for your muscles to take a break while you do other exercises.
For anyone that wants to lose 10 pounds I suggest the Jillian Michaels Making the Cut plan. So far so good! But you have to have the right mind set otherwise you will get disappointed. Also, you will need 30 days out of your life to focus on hard core exercise and NOT on partying. I picked the wrong month for that…
Ever wonder what the morality level is for a person who leaves a large bill in the collection basket, yet takes out a couple smaller bills as ‘change’? I mean, technically they are leaving a donation, right?
Monday, June 7, 2010
Better now?
Well, considering I have not posted anything of interest in some time I thought I would write a quick note. I have thought of many, many interesting things to write about that had really little to do with anything. But by the time I would find myself at home ready to get in front of the computer to type, type, type away, I found that eating snacks, watching mindless chatter on the boob tube or sleeping a much better distraction-I didn't have to think...at all.
I have been in a depressed state of mind for a few weeks. Why you ask? Because I have hurt me bum and have not been able to run. You may say: Why Jennifer, there is no need to be so depressed just because you can't run. Well dear friend, yes, yes there is and you wouldn't understand until it happened to you. I went to a book club meeting this past Friday and one of the members, who also runs, hurt her knee and has not been able to run either. We felt each others pain (literally) and for those few brief hours I was able to feel as if I was not alone and someone could relate to what I was going through.
Then yesterday came and I decided to bite the bullet and go for a run. I ran for a good 20 minutes with minimal pain, but had to ice down as soon as I got home. This morning I woke up with the dreadful feeling that my leg would have fallen off in my sleep, but to my surprise, I was fine. Not only that, but I did interval training with my friends and was not only able to jog to each station, but I did the last loop around ahead of them! I don't want to push it too hard, but I'm feeling good! Of course I iced down again tonight, but I am completely optimistic from where I was just a few weeks ago. Of course there will be no marathon runs in the next few months, but I should be able to build up strength and speed for October. So, depression will slowly seep out, running will slowly build in and I will once again be a happy camper.
Ciao!
I have been in a depressed state of mind for a few weeks. Why you ask? Because I have hurt me bum and have not been able to run. You may say: Why Jennifer, there is no need to be so depressed just because you can't run. Well dear friend, yes, yes there is and you wouldn't understand until it happened to you. I went to a book club meeting this past Friday and one of the members, who also runs, hurt her knee and has not been able to run either. We felt each others pain (literally) and for those few brief hours I was able to feel as if I was not alone and someone could relate to what I was going through.
Then yesterday came and I decided to bite the bullet and go for a run. I ran for a good 20 minutes with minimal pain, but had to ice down as soon as I got home. This morning I woke up with the dreadful feeling that my leg would have fallen off in my sleep, but to my surprise, I was fine. Not only that, but I did interval training with my friends and was not only able to jog to each station, but I did the last loop around ahead of them! I don't want to push it too hard, but I'm feeling good! Of course I iced down again tonight, but I am completely optimistic from where I was just a few weeks ago. Of course there will be no marathon runs in the next few months, but I should be able to build up strength and speed for October. So, depression will slowly seep out, running will slowly build in and I will once again be a happy camper.
Ciao!
Sunday, May 30, 2010
It's my garden
Well, for the past few weeks or longer I have been contemplating starting my own vegetable garden. It pretty much stemmed from a few different realizations. The main one was to be and stay healthy. But also because it's cheaper (once I get it up and running) and I know exactly where the vegetables will be coming from.
So, yesterday I went out and got all the supplies and my brother and I went out in the back yard and got down and dirty (with the gardening, gross-o's). It is up and 'running' so to say. I think we went a bit loopy half way through, but I'm pretty sure we did everything right.
Now, in about two weeks we will see if anything starts growing. Then in about two months, we will see if it was worth it and if I should do it again next year.
I'm so tired right now...
So, yesterday I went out and got all the supplies and my brother and I went out in the back yard and got down and dirty (with the gardening, gross-o's). It is up and 'running' so to say. I think we went a bit loopy half way through, but I'm pretty sure we did everything right.
Now, in about two weeks we will see if anything starts growing. Then in about two months, we will see if it was worth it and if I should do it again next year.
I'm so tired right now...
Saturday, May 15, 2010
I got this...
Ever want something so bad that you either waited so long for it or spent so much time working on accomplishing it that when the day came to actually grasp your goal at hand you fear that you may not be able to do it? For one reason or another that fear just gets inside of you and you just don't know if you can successfully say with great confidence "I got this."
Well, you know what? I have trained for too long to throw in the towel. I am going out there tomorrow because, well, because I GOT THIS! I will do what I can, and if I can't go any further, I will not take it as a defeat, but just a small hurdle I will have to get over in order to reach yet another goal.
People may feel that positive thinking is just an overly happy person spewing words that mean nothing but words. But the mind is a wondrous thing. If you keep saying or thinking something long enough, your mind will start taking it as truth. So, positively speaking the truth, I will go out and try my best to acheive the best I can. Hopefully that means I will complete my goal. No, no doubt allowed. I WILL DO THIS!
I GOT THIS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYJzcUvS_NU
Well, you know what? I have trained for too long to throw in the towel. I am going out there tomorrow because, well, because I GOT THIS! I will do what I can, and if I can't go any further, I will not take it as a defeat, but just a small hurdle I will have to get over in order to reach yet another goal.
People may feel that positive thinking is just an overly happy person spewing words that mean nothing but words. But the mind is a wondrous thing. If you keep saying or thinking something long enough, your mind will start taking it as truth. So, positively speaking the truth, I will go out and try my best to acheive the best I can. Hopefully that means I will complete my goal. No, no doubt allowed. I WILL DO THIS!
I GOT THIS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYJzcUvS_NU
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Two minutes gone
Every day I come into work my computer clock reads two minutes faster than the phone clock-no matter how many times I change it. The phone clock is always 5 minutes slower than the factory clock, and I assume the factory clock is, at present time, on solar time as put forth by Mr. President Bush the second. I'm sure it's incorrect.
Every day, I change the time on my computer to read the phone clock time. All office personnel read the phone clock time and this is the time lunch and the work day is set by. Well, to everyone except the receptionist. She says that she goes by her computer time, which is also actually 5 minutes faster than the phone time. Now, if I go to lunch at 11:30am my phone time and she is expecting to go to lunch at 12:30pm her computer time, do you really think I am going to know that? I just found this out the other day people. She knows the times are not the same. Needless to say, she always gets 10 extra minutes of lunch, and I'm out 3 minutes. Doesn't seem to make sense. She goes to lunch when I come back-which is 3 minutes (I split the difference) prior to the time I should. Three minutes extra IF she came back at 1:30 phone time. But she doesn't. She comes back 1:30 computer time...and then adds an extra 2 minutes for 'good' measure. She waddles her fat ass into the building, sets down her belongings, goes into the back to do what ever it is she is doing (making wild monkey sex with the copy machine?) then proceeds to waddle back to the receptionist desk so I can go back to mine. Granted, it's not like I am doing much work at the receptionist desk as compared to my own desk, it's just the point of the matter that she is now digging into time that I could be using wisely; for once at the receptionist desk, you are pretty much chained there. Not to mention she gets an extra 10 minute lunch break while I suffer through her smelliness at the desk she occupies.
The real point of the matter is, do I lose two minutes every day, and if I do, what happens to them? Two minutes over time adds up. I could eventually lose a year of my life. Life is already too short; for you don't know when it's going to end (unless you take your own life). I was watching a snippet of that show where the house is torn down and rebuilt with Ty somebody or other. Usually for a good cause. Anyway, I guess the family had lost the father due to a road accident by the house (I don't know the whole story-didn't watch it all) and the mother was saying something on the lines of "It's better to live your life because you can't chose the way you die." Ummm...yes you can. You can chose to go into that burning fire to save a puppy knowing full well the building will collapse upon you. You can chose to take a plane into the mouth of an alien space craft because that is the only way to destroy it. You can chose to use a stronger rope around your neck as you kick the stool from under your feet. Whatever the occasion, you do have a choice, it's just if you actually follow through with it or not.
Eh, whatever, the pain in my ass is traveling to my brain...
Every day, I change the time on my computer to read the phone clock time. All office personnel read the phone clock time and this is the time lunch and the work day is set by. Well, to everyone except the receptionist. She says that she goes by her computer time, which is also actually 5 minutes faster than the phone time. Now, if I go to lunch at 11:30am my phone time and she is expecting to go to lunch at 12:30pm her computer time, do you really think I am going to know that? I just found this out the other day people. She knows the times are not the same. Needless to say, she always gets 10 extra minutes of lunch, and I'm out 3 minutes. Doesn't seem to make sense. She goes to lunch when I come back-which is 3 minutes (I split the difference) prior to the time I should. Three minutes extra IF she came back at 1:30 phone time. But she doesn't. She comes back 1:30 computer time...and then adds an extra 2 minutes for 'good' measure. She waddles her fat ass into the building, sets down her belongings, goes into the back to do what ever it is she is doing (making wild monkey sex with the copy machine?) then proceeds to waddle back to the receptionist desk so I can go back to mine. Granted, it's not like I am doing much work at the receptionist desk as compared to my own desk, it's just the point of the matter that she is now digging into time that I could be using wisely; for once at the receptionist desk, you are pretty much chained there. Not to mention she gets an extra 10 minute lunch break while I suffer through her smelliness at the desk she occupies.
The real point of the matter is, do I lose two minutes every day, and if I do, what happens to them? Two minutes over time adds up. I could eventually lose a year of my life. Life is already too short; for you don't know when it's going to end (unless you take your own life). I was watching a snippet of that show where the house is torn down and rebuilt with Ty somebody or other. Usually for a good cause. Anyway, I guess the family had lost the father due to a road accident by the house (I don't know the whole story-didn't watch it all) and the mother was saying something on the lines of "It's better to live your life because you can't chose the way you die." Ummm...yes you can. You can chose to go into that burning fire to save a puppy knowing full well the building will collapse upon you. You can chose to take a plane into the mouth of an alien space craft because that is the only way to destroy it. You can chose to use a stronger rope around your neck as you kick the stool from under your feet. Whatever the occasion, you do have a choice, it's just if you actually follow through with it or not.
Eh, whatever, the pain in my ass is traveling to my brain...
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Old people make me sad
I have always been scared, yes, I can use the word scared, of getting old. Motor skills depleted, hearing loss, tons of medication needed to be taken. Not to mention the regret felt of no longer being able to do the things I wished I would have done years and years ago. You know, like now.
But the sight of seeing an old man or woman walking slowly through the isles of the grocery store, their cart barely filled with soft, somewhat edible foods. The glazed over look most likely due to cataracts instead of what I see as confusion clearly printed on their faces. I stare at these people as they hobble down the sidewalk trying to avoid pebbles along the way. My heart breaks as I see them just trying to go through life, but without the steam of a 25 year old, they no longer argue over the overpriced toilet paper and just let it slide. They count out their change at the register because every penny is a penny and not just a piece of copper that fills the bottom of your purse or gets stuck in the washing machine.
It breaks my heart-what little piece of black coal there is left of it, but it does break. It is the natural way of things, to get old and eventually die, this I know. The hard part is that when I see these people, not only does my heart go out to them, but I fear for what my life would be like when I reach that inevitable age. Right now at the ripe age of 28, I have been getting into good shape and becoming really healthy. Will this last and prolong my life so I can sustain a happier way of living in the years to come? I still dread the big 3-0. Life as I know it seems to end at that age. No more fun, going to bars just seems like a weird tactic to be young again. I read a Dear Abby about a 25 year old who still hung on to all her childhood favorites (toys, and television shows) but felt guilty about it because she knows she needs to grow up. Abby said it was fear of the unknown and the responsibility of becoming an adult that makes her regress. It's not responsibility for me, it's more of the fear of not being able to go out and have fun. Just throw caution to the wind and let my hair down.
Speaking of which, this weekend I would like to do that, but it just seems like a chore anymore to find somewhere that you can be able to do just that. Maybe it's not getting old that scares me, maybe it is just life...period. End of story.
This sucks.
But the sight of seeing an old man or woman walking slowly through the isles of the grocery store, their cart barely filled with soft, somewhat edible foods. The glazed over look most likely due to cataracts instead of what I see as confusion clearly printed on their faces. I stare at these people as they hobble down the sidewalk trying to avoid pebbles along the way. My heart breaks as I see them just trying to go through life, but without the steam of a 25 year old, they no longer argue over the overpriced toilet paper and just let it slide. They count out their change at the register because every penny is a penny and not just a piece of copper that fills the bottom of your purse or gets stuck in the washing machine.
It breaks my heart-what little piece of black coal there is left of it, but it does break. It is the natural way of things, to get old and eventually die, this I know. The hard part is that when I see these people, not only does my heart go out to them, but I fear for what my life would be like when I reach that inevitable age. Right now at the ripe age of 28, I have been getting into good shape and becoming really healthy. Will this last and prolong my life so I can sustain a happier way of living in the years to come? I still dread the big 3-0. Life as I know it seems to end at that age. No more fun, going to bars just seems like a weird tactic to be young again. I read a Dear Abby about a 25 year old who still hung on to all her childhood favorites (toys, and television shows) but felt guilty about it because she knows she needs to grow up. Abby said it was fear of the unknown and the responsibility of becoming an adult that makes her regress. It's not responsibility for me, it's more of the fear of not being able to go out and have fun. Just throw caution to the wind and let my hair down.
Speaking of which, this weekend I would like to do that, but it just seems like a chore anymore to find somewhere that you can be able to do just that. Maybe it's not getting old that scares me, maybe it is just life...period. End of story.
This sucks.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
I don't speak dog
For as long as I remember, I have always wanted to learn to speak a second language. Mostly for the fun of it. The ability to just start talking in a different language among a group of people all speaking English is quite amusing. But that would mean I would have to know someone who spoke the same language in order to hold this conversation.
Yeah, it can be annoying and slightly embarrassing for all parties involved to walk into a restaurant, store or just down the street and people are talking in a different language in your home town. But the more I think about it, the more I really want to learn. Maybe just so I can listen in on conversations and then when they are finished talking, make a rude comment about how I can understand everything they are saying. Going on the fact they were talking shit about someone or even myself. And that's the biggest thing I hate, getting all paranoid that these people are talking about me for some reason. Then they will start going in and out of different languages messing everything up so you couldn't even follow the conversation if you tried.
But...at least they are speaking. Dogs don't talk, besides the annoying bark. Bark bark shut the fuck up bark. And the whining for no apparent reason at all. Then they look at you with their stupid bug eyes like you are supposed to understand them. No, no I have no idea what you want. Water? No. Food? No. Outside? No. Bed time? What the fuck? I don't know. I'm never owning my own animal nor will I have children. I do not have the patience for either-though they are pretty much the same. But I can admit that; and I'm good with knowing that.
I guess it would be cool if I did speak dog, then I could actually do something worth while with my life. Unfortunately it would require me to be around the dog though. I have come to realize that keeping animals in captivity (which is pretty much what pets are on a 'nicer' level)is not all it's cracked up to be. They are animals therefore they go outside. Why in God's name would you want to sleep in your nice clean bed with an animal that just shat in the grass in the back yard. The only 'wipe' he used was the same tongue that is now licking your freshly cleaned face. I don't get it. But then again, I have been told I have no heart. Maybe I should go to Oz and get myself one so I can go to the overcrowded pet store and pay an obscene amount of money for a cross-breed pa-doodle or whatever they are to take home and call my own. Yeah, so I can pull my hair out and my new carpeting because it now smells like pa-doodle puppy piss and all my new shoes are worthless. I guess it's my own fault, who would buy 6 pairs of brand new designer pumps knowing a puppy is in the house? I don't wear pumps, nor have I bought a new pair of shoes (besides running shoes) in a long, long time. But I also am not about to get myself a pa-doodle either.
Chew on that, Lassie (who by the way was a male dog, though portrayed as a female-Hollywood...)
Ciao!
Yeah, it can be annoying and slightly embarrassing for all parties involved to walk into a restaurant, store or just down the street and people are talking in a different language in your home town. But the more I think about it, the more I really want to learn. Maybe just so I can listen in on conversations and then when they are finished talking, make a rude comment about how I can understand everything they are saying. Going on the fact they were talking shit about someone or even myself. And that's the biggest thing I hate, getting all paranoid that these people are talking about me for some reason. Then they will start going in and out of different languages messing everything up so you couldn't even follow the conversation if you tried.
But...at least they are speaking. Dogs don't talk, besides the annoying bark. Bark bark shut the fuck up bark. And the whining for no apparent reason at all. Then they look at you with their stupid bug eyes like you are supposed to understand them. No, no I have no idea what you want. Water? No. Food? No. Outside? No. Bed time? What the fuck? I don't know. I'm never owning my own animal nor will I have children. I do not have the patience for either-though they are pretty much the same. But I can admit that; and I'm good with knowing that.
I guess it would be cool if I did speak dog, then I could actually do something worth while with my life. Unfortunately it would require me to be around the dog though. I have come to realize that keeping animals in captivity (which is pretty much what pets are on a 'nicer' level)is not all it's cracked up to be. They are animals therefore they go outside. Why in God's name would you want to sleep in your nice clean bed with an animal that just shat in the grass in the back yard. The only 'wipe' he used was the same tongue that is now licking your freshly cleaned face. I don't get it. But then again, I have been told I have no heart. Maybe I should go to Oz and get myself one so I can go to the overcrowded pet store and pay an obscene amount of money for a cross-breed pa-doodle or whatever they are to take home and call my own. Yeah, so I can pull my hair out and my new carpeting because it now smells like pa-doodle puppy piss and all my new shoes are worthless. I guess it's my own fault, who would buy 6 pairs of brand new designer pumps knowing a puppy is in the house? I don't wear pumps, nor have I bought a new pair of shoes (besides running shoes) in a long, long time. But I also am not about to get myself a pa-doodle either.
Chew on that, Lassie (who by the way was a male dog, though portrayed as a female-Hollywood...)
Ciao!
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The invention of lying
I haven't drank since Saturday. Oh wait, today is Saturday. Crap...Ok, so I went for a run this morning in the freezing weather. The Brecksville Fire Department was actually doing training in the park-Bonus! Plus, I saw one of the eagle's that nested in the park flying overhead with a fish in its claws. Totally Discovery channel shit, not even joking. Then I took the three hell hounds for a 30 minute walk, took a shower and had a Moslon XXX, then another. Then read the label that said 7.3% alcohol. No food but a packet of oatmeal at 7:30 this morning...and 2 7.3% alcoholic beverages? Yeah, somebody drank too much. Made myself a frozen pizza, put in a load of laundry...crap, got to check on that, and watched a movie. In the meantime made dinner plans with two different people. Whoopsy-maybe they won't mind all three of us meeting together? HA!
The Invention of Lying-BAD movie. First of all, the concept was slightly original, unless there was another 1939 film previously made that hasn't made it to TCM yet (LOVE IT!). Concept is a world full of people that don't know the meaning of lying. They always tell the truth. Great, I wish I could be more like that-would get out of dinner plans a lot easier HAHA, plus I'm sure...well, you know. Anyway, the stupid part of the movie was the fact that not only did the people not lie, they obviously also had no censures what-so-ever in their brains. They just said the first thing that popped into their heads. "I was just masturbating" Great, but nobody asked what you were doing, why do you feel it necessary to tell us? "I think that you are ugly" OK, nice, so do I, but again, no one asked what you thought of me, therefore there would be no reason for you to express your true feelings at this time. Stupid. The movie could have been better if they took that part out. Plus, I got super bored with it so I ended up fast forwarding through it again. Maybe I am starting to get adult onset ADD. This was the second movie I have watched that I just didn't care enough to sit through the entire thing. Oh wait, alcohol was involved with both movies...maybe that was the reason. They do say that alcohol brings out the truth. But I don't see it. I just get sleepy. Speaking of which...snooze fest time while the dogs are still tired from their run. I need to get my coat from home, it's freezing out there. Not like I'm going to go right now, but you know, later maybe tomorrow! HAHA What? Oh, right, so the movie then started getting too religious for me too. Bringing down the whole Ten Commandments thing and "the guy in the sky" all that malarkey. Really, I think my laundry is done. Should probably check on that. Oh, yeah, supposed to check on movie times as well. Fuck it, I'm taking a nap. I have an 11 mile run tomorrow in..shit I forgot the address at home. Now I really have to go home later. Richmond Hts I think..but what is the address? No more drinky drink for you. It's not even 3pm yet. Holy shit! It's only 2:30! In the afternoon! I've been up too long to be worried about all this crap. What crap? Beats me, I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore. Is this spelled right?
I'm going to go...
Ciao!
The Invention of Lying-BAD movie. First of all, the concept was slightly original, unless there was another 1939 film previously made that hasn't made it to TCM yet (LOVE IT!). Concept is a world full of people that don't know the meaning of lying. They always tell the truth. Great, I wish I could be more like that-would get out of dinner plans a lot easier HAHA, plus I'm sure...well, you know. Anyway, the stupid part of the movie was the fact that not only did the people not lie, they obviously also had no censures what-so-ever in their brains. They just said the first thing that popped into their heads. "I was just masturbating" Great, but nobody asked what you were doing, why do you feel it necessary to tell us? "I think that you are ugly" OK, nice, so do I, but again, no one asked what you thought of me, therefore there would be no reason for you to express your true feelings at this time. Stupid. The movie could have been better if they took that part out. Plus, I got super bored with it so I ended up fast forwarding through it again. Maybe I am starting to get adult onset ADD. This was the second movie I have watched that I just didn't care enough to sit through the entire thing. Oh wait, alcohol was involved with both movies...maybe that was the reason. They do say that alcohol brings out the truth. But I don't see it. I just get sleepy. Speaking of which...snooze fest time while the dogs are still tired from their run. I need to get my coat from home, it's freezing out there. Not like I'm going to go right now, but you know, later maybe tomorrow! HAHA What? Oh, right, so the movie then started getting too religious for me too. Bringing down the whole Ten Commandments thing and "the guy in the sky" all that malarkey. Really, I think my laundry is done. Should probably check on that. Oh, yeah, supposed to check on movie times as well. Fuck it, I'm taking a nap. I have an 11 mile run tomorrow in..shit I forgot the address at home. Now I really have to go home later. Richmond Hts I think..but what is the address? No more drinky drink for you. It's not even 3pm yet. Holy shit! It's only 2:30! In the afternoon! I've been up too long to be worried about all this crap. What crap? Beats me, I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore. Is this spelled right?
I'm going to go...
Ciao!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Fat Gay revisted...again
First, I find it interesting that I am giving yet another shout out to one of my two loyal viewers. But, hey, maybe we will both get more recognition that way. I guess it really doesn’t matter.
Are Traditional Romances dead or do people still hold true to them? But, what are ‘traditional romances’ to begin with?
Mr. Gay believes the engagement ring to be one. A symbol of eternity, a circle of life and love filled with one other person-and only one other person. “A bond shared with one another and with God.” First of all, why does God have anything to do with it? The bond possessed by the two individuals is for them and them alone. Though, traditionally thinking, people were married in the church before the hand of God and all that hoopla. But, there were times when “God” as he is known in the western, Christian sense was not always celebrated. The ancient Egyptians still believed in marriage, though their gods were far from the all knowing, mighty God in today’s time. Same with the Ancient Greeks and Romans. Therefore, could we really state that God should be involved with the engagement ring? I think not.
On the basis of picking one out…this is more of a 19th century tradition as prior to then, the man would formally ask the father or family of the young woman and maybe a small token of affection from the man would be given to the woman, but normally in the form of an old locket or pin of some sort. The engagement ring we know today only started in the early 1900’s when wealth and power started to be expressed through adornment and who was able to get the most ‘precious’ of the precious in the biggest size. When love still had nothing to do with it, but more on the lines of how much your husband-to-be made as opposed to how much your father was giving him to marry you. Obviously in the early 1900’s, the woman’s opinion meant nothing, so the man would pick out the ring, probably the bigger the better he thought since she wouldn’t be there to help him out. If the diamond was big enough, hopefully it would obscure the fact that the setting wasn’t just right. But, relating to today’s times, when the woman sometimes has more say than the man, would it be better for the man to still pick out the ring or should the woman have some sort of say in it? Considering we are out of the barbaric ways of “I see woman, me must marry” society, and the act of marriage is something that should be gone over in some detail prior to any engagement ring bought and exchanged hands, it should be the responsibility of both parties to make the decision. Go together, when the time is right, have the woman pick out two or three styles (with in reason). That way, when the man goes back to buy ‘the ring’ it will still be a surprise, but the woman would undoubtedly like it. I say if a man can’t pick out the right ring for woman, they don’t deserve to be married. The same can go with if the man doesn’t allow the woman’s in put…
But, why do we need an engagement ring to begin with? You receive a wedding ring, which is the band that symbolizes eternal love, so why does some gaudy, gold ring puking diamonds all over your finger need to be given? To symbolize how much money your husband-to-be makes over someone else's? To remind the woman she is shackled to this one man and can’t even look at another? To be a high-beam to all other men playing the field? Does this really transmit love anymore?
I do not feel that the engagement ring is a ‘traditional romance’. The real romance is the love and openness shared among those two people that allowed them to get to that point in their lives to begin with.
But, romances can be different for different people. What makes the essence of true love can be different compared to others essence. As long as it is there, that is all that should really matter. And Mr. Gay is correct in stating, if there is no true romance (no matter what it is) what is the point? Humans have these emotions for a reason (why, I do not know) but we have them. We can foolishly go through life denying the feelings, or accept them. The decision is up to you. Of course, HOW you act on them can definitely make a difference in how people see and respect you.
Ciao!
Are Traditional Romances dead or do people still hold true to them? But, what are ‘traditional romances’ to begin with?
Mr. Gay believes the engagement ring to be one. A symbol of eternity, a circle of life and love filled with one other person-and only one other person. “A bond shared with one another and with God.” First of all, why does God have anything to do with it? The bond possessed by the two individuals is for them and them alone. Though, traditionally thinking, people were married in the church before the hand of God and all that hoopla. But, there were times when “God” as he is known in the western, Christian sense was not always celebrated. The ancient Egyptians still believed in marriage, though their gods were far from the all knowing, mighty God in today’s time. Same with the Ancient Greeks and Romans. Therefore, could we really state that God should be involved with the engagement ring? I think not.
On the basis of picking one out…this is more of a 19th century tradition as prior to then, the man would formally ask the father or family of the young woman and maybe a small token of affection from the man would be given to the woman, but normally in the form of an old locket or pin of some sort. The engagement ring we know today only started in the early 1900’s when wealth and power started to be expressed through adornment and who was able to get the most ‘precious’ of the precious in the biggest size. When love still had nothing to do with it, but more on the lines of how much your husband-to-be made as opposed to how much your father was giving him to marry you. Obviously in the early 1900’s, the woman’s opinion meant nothing, so the man would pick out the ring, probably the bigger the better he thought since she wouldn’t be there to help him out. If the diamond was big enough, hopefully it would obscure the fact that the setting wasn’t just right. But, relating to today’s times, when the woman sometimes has more say than the man, would it be better for the man to still pick out the ring or should the woman have some sort of say in it? Considering we are out of the barbaric ways of “I see woman, me must marry” society, and the act of marriage is something that should be gone over in some detail prior to any engagement ring bought and exchanged hands, it should be the responsibility of both parties to make the decision. Go together, when the time is right, have the woman pick out two or three styles (with in reason). That way, when the man goes back to buy ‘the ring’ it will still be a surprise, but the woman would undoubtedly like it. I say if a man can’t pick out the right ring for woman, they don’t deserve to be married. The same can go with if the man doesn’t allow the woman’s in put…
But, why do we need an engagement ring to begin with? You receive a wedding ring, which is the band that symbolizes eternal love, so why does some gaudy, gold ring puking diamonds all over your finger need to be given? To symbolize how much money your husband-to-be makes over someone else's? To remind the woman she is shackled to this one man and can’t even look at another? To be a high-beam to all other men playing the field? Does this really transmit love anymore?
I do not feel that the engagement ring is a ‘traditional romance’. The real romance is the love and openness shared among those two people that allowed them to get to that point in their lives to begin with.
But, romances can be different for different people. What makes the essence of true love can be different compared to others essence. As long as it is there, that is all that should really matter. And Mr. Gay is correct in stating, if there is no true romance (no matter what it is) what is the point? Humans have these emotions for a reason (why, I do not know) but we have them. We can foolishly go through life denying the feelings, or accept them. The decision is up to you. Of course, HOW you act on them can definitely make a difference in how people see and respect you.
Ciao!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Uh Oh!
Guess what time it is? My annual dog shitting agenda! Oh how fun! Staying in a house by myself surrounded by 3 dogs that are small and smelly. HAHA Oh well, gotta do what ya gotta do. At least I'll have three running buddies for the upcoming week. Oh wait, I'm not supposed to talk about running in my regular blog. Doesn't matter, nobody really reads either one. I can talk about whatever it is I want to talk about.
Someone let me know what good television shows I should borrow from the library. Old, new, whatever. I'm bored and want to watch something that will make me laugh, think, whatever.
I started watching Arrested Development's first season last night. That made me laugh a bit. I think I only watched one episode my entire life and it was during the first season. Interesting.
Well, I guess that's about it, I don't have much. I'm at work...since we aren't "allowed" to leave. I guess they will be upset starting Friday when I have to leave for lunch. Stupid...whatever.
Ciao!
Someone let me know what good television shows I should borrow from the library. Old, new, whatever. I'm bored and want to watch something that will make me laugh, think, whatever.
I started watching Arrested Development's first season last night. That made me laugh a bit. I think I only watched one episode my entire life and it was during the first season. Interesting.
Well, I guess that's about it, I don't have much. I'm at work...since we aren't "allowed" to leave. I guess they will be upset starting Friday when I have to leave for lunch. Stupid...whatever.
Ciao!
Monday, April 12, 2010
No spoon for you!
Why does it seem that between the hours of 8am and 5pm Monday through Friday, your life is no longer your own? You only get paid for 8 of those 9 hours, so you think, well, maybe that one hour I am not paid for would be my own hour, do what I want to do, as long as I am not doing anything illegal or something that would look bad on my work reputation.
Well, that's not true, I guess. That one hour that you are not paid is still not your own time. According to some insane people that call themselves your boss and/or office manager. You are forever indebted to remain on company grounds, though you can't use the company supplied items like forks, spoons or the microwave for god sake. God forbid you cook something that has any sort of odor and requires you to use a spoon to eat with it. What do you mean you didn't bring your own spoon from home with you? You expect the company to supply spoons for you? Well, isn't that why they are sitting in a drawer in the kitchen? Or is it just a staging for when people come to view the facility-yes, we use our kitchen, see the spoons in the drawer? I bet you don't smell any food though, because we don't allow our employees to use the microwave, yet we forbid them to leave the building for lunch.
Speaking of false giving, what is the point on having a cover charge for a bar when the drink prices are some astronomical amount to begin with? There is no band and the dj is hidden away in a dark corner surrounded by glass and walls and you can't even get to them to request a song. What are you paying for? Not the upkeep of the bathrooms, that's for sure. Not when there are only 3 stalls, one that uses a curtain for a door and two others that were jimmied in such a way that you can get them to lock, with effort, but what's the point? The cracks left behind after the 'jimmy' are so large you mind as well have just left the door open. At least there was toilet paper. And then, they post these signs all over the place stating a phone number to use if you happen to drink just a bit too much. And when your ride home does just that, you call the number and it's disconnected. What kind of thank you for patronising my bar and spending all your money on alcohol so now you have to take a cab ride home is that? Luckily I had a 50 dollar bill on my dresser, otherwise we would have been screwed. Just call me Sister Bail-Out (and I am talking about the habit wearing nun type of sister, not the-your my brother, I'm your sister, sister). I'm no Saint, but it seems that I'm continuously bailing someone out every other weekend. Well, it's my own fault. But at least I have a good time while doing it.
I guess my death to the boss didn't come true and it was just a story. Hmmm...but she did not show up to work today...
Well, that's not true, I guess. That one hour that you are not paid is still not your own time. According to some insane people that call themselves your boss and/or office manager. You are forever indebted to remain on company grounds, though you can't use the company supplied items like forks, spoons or the microwave for god sake. God forbid you cook something that has any sort of odor and requires you to use a spoon to eat with it. What do you mean you didn't bring your own spoon from home with you? You expect the company to supply spoons for you? Well, isn't that why they are sitting in a drawer in the kitchen? Or is it just a staging for when people come to view the facility-yes, we use our kitchen, see the spoons in the drawer? I bet you don't smell any food though, because we don't allow our employees to use the microwave, yet we forbid them to leave the building for lunch.
Speaking of false giving, what is the point on having a cover charge for a bar when the drink prices are some astronomical amount to begin with? There is no band and the dj is hidden away in a dark corner surrounded by glass and walls and you can't even get to them to request a song. What are you paying for? Not the upkeep of the bathrooms, that's for sure. Not when there are only 3 stalls, one that uses a curtain for a door and two others that were jimmied in such a way that you can get them to lock, with effort, but what's the point? The cracks left behind after the 'jimmy' are so large you mind as well have just left the door open. At least there was toilet paper. And then, they post these signs all over the place stating a phone number to use if you happen to drink just a bit too much. And when your ride home does just that, you call the number and it's disconnected. What kind of thank you for patronising my bar and spending all your money on alcohol so now you have to take a cab ride home is that? Luckily I had a 50 dollar bill on my dresser, otherwise we would have been screwed. Just call me Sister Bail-Out (and I am talking about the habit wearing nun type of sister, not the-your my brother, I'm your sister, sister). I'm no Saint, but it seems that I'm continuously bailing someone out every other weekend. Well, it's my own fault. But at least I have a good time while doing it.
I guess my death to the boss didn't come true and it was just a story. Hmmm...but she did not show up to work today...
Thursday, April 8, 2010
The Fat Gay (shout out!) revisited
The Fat Gay has posted a blog the other day that required me, well, didn't require me, but I took it upon myself to take it as a requirement and finish off where he started.
The post was to imagine yourself on a yacht in the middle of the ocean during the most perfect day with no one else but the person you hate most in life. Now, what would you say or do to this person?
First of all, it would be hard to imagine myself in this situation for numerous reasons.
1) I don't like boats unless they are the very large type that are more like floating cities than actual boats.
2) I don't like boats, therefore, I don't foresee how I would be on one by myself save for the one person I hate in life.
3) I don't like the middle of the ocean. The shore is fine; a docked boat, maybe. But the middle of the ocean? Can't foresee how I would not have tried to wiggle out of that one.
4) I don't really hate anyone that much-though I could get to hate someone if put in that situation.
OK-Let's just say, for argument purposes, a group of people, including my most hated enemy were invited on a yacht on the dock of, let's say somewhere in Florida. I was taking a holiday by myself-much needed, frankly. I picked Florida because it's a place I wouldn't normally go-hot, party central. Yeah, I wasn't having much fun until I heard about this yacht party over at pier 49. Actually, a new local band was hosting it in honor of their CD release. I happened to walk into this small tea store right outside of Bayside Market and they were giving away tickets to customers who purchased the CD. They had the music playing on the overhead speakers at the time. I was really intrigued by their sound. Knowing I had nothing to do that night anyway, I picked up the $10 CD and got my free ticket. I didn't have to use it, and anyway, the music would go well on my new running track.
As the day progressed, and I meandered around the Bayside area, my mind wandered more and ore to the yacht party and the "hot new band" hosting. I remembered I brought my new blue, as opposed to my everyday black, halter dress and silver heels. What a perfect outfit for the night. I started getting excited, so I hurried back t the house I was renting to start getting ready. I could always get ready and go somewhere else, I thought.
With my hair clipped back, as I knew the wind would be horrendous, and my dress just right, I called a taxi cab to take me to Pier 49. Ticket in one hand , clutch in the other, I saw about 4 or 5 other women all surpassing me on the 'hot' scale. Perfectly tanned and toned body's, yet you could see the plastic oozing out of their pores. The men were just as fake with their highlighted hair, polo shirts and leather sandals. I took a deep breath and got out of the cab, no turning back now! I'm on vacation, why not do something a bit on the wild side?
I walked up to the boat and tried to smile at the other people on my way up, though each one seemed to send daggers through me with their emotionless, icy smiles.
I ignored the stares and glares and walked up to the yacht. A man in a tuxedo smiled an politely asked for my ticket. I handed him the ticket I received at the tea store and was escorted by a very handsome young man to the front of the boat. He led me to a seating area unlike anything I would imagine on a boat. I felt as if I was in a millionaire's home and they just opened up the roof to allow the sun and warm summer breeze drift through the house. As I sat on the plush built-in seat at the edge of the boat, I turned my head back towards the ramp where the tuxeded man stood guard. I noticed that some of the icy smiling bitches with dogs on their arms were politely turned away as it would seem they did not possess tickets. As I sat their watching as one after another tall, tan, plastic, fake Floridian's were turned away from the yacht, I was served flutes of Champagne and silver trays of fresh fruit. The servers were all pleasant and polite to talk to. Then I realized that the servers were not servers, but the band that was hosting the party to begin with. Feeling quite foolish, I fumbled with my words and almost dropped my glass on the yacht floor. One of the members calmly smiled and told me there was no need to feel embarrassed, for they intentionally acted that way to make sure the 'right' people were at their party. Then I heard one of them moan, "She ended up showing up." He said. "Who?" I asked not really thinking. "My aunt. I told her about this party, but I never thought she would come. She's old and not very nice, but she's my aunt and I knew she was going to be in town."
I turned my head and noticed a rather large, older woman attempting to scale the ramp without overturning the boat in the process. Red faced and sweaty, I noticed a resemblance to this woman and my old boss. Then, as she looked up and started towards us, I realized, with shock and a real feeling of fear, it WAS my old boss. The woman who drove me to the brink of insanity, the woman who made my work days a living Hell, the woman who was like a cockroach in the way she would never die, no matter what evil she spread or what happened to her. She would live on the Earth forever spreading her disease called hatred and despair for all to enjoy. A dark cloud of doom seems to always follow her in her wake. All smiles crumble to tears as she passes. One look from her eyes makes even an atheist believe the Devil exists and walks the Earth.
I quickly tried to compose myself so she wouldn't see the fear on my face and then feed off of it. Damn, I knew I should have just went to a nice dinner and called it a night, maybe take a midnight swim in the swimming pool. Now I had to sit on this stupid boat with these hot, young band members and...and HER. What the Hell? Is my life that horrible? Or maybe it's just that great that I have to be put back in my place? What are the odds that we both would be on vacation at the same time at the same place and end up at the same party? What are the odds? God hates me.
So the bitch finally makes it to the front of the boat, you could already feel the tension run through all the band members. She put on one of her fake ass smiles and went in to hug her, who I now knew was her nephew. The uncomfortableness in the hug could be felt by the underwater creatures 20,000 leagues under the sea.
She turned and looked at me with a surprised look on her face. "Yeah, it's me, remember me? I'm doing well, thank you, thought I'd take a break and do a little traveling by myself before I had to spend the rest of my life behind a desk again."
"How nice." Yeah, well, it was.
Unbenowest to me, the tuxedoed man at the ramp had unroped the boat and it was slowly drifting out to sea. When I glanced passed my old boss to take a deep breath to calm myself, I noticed the shore line getting farther and farther away.
"Wait, wait! Why are we moving?" I exclaimed to one of the band members. "Oh, we are just going a bit out to sea to have a real boat party. Don't worry, we'll anchor a few miles out." Then I also realized the only people on the boat were the band members, myself and my old boss. Some party, I thought. I was feeling more and more uncomfortable and all I wanted to do was get off the boat, but there was no way that was happening now. For the next hour or so, I just listened to her talk about all her annoyances in life-for the millionth time. It's like her life stopped after 40 and the only things she knew to talk about was a brief time period between 35 and 40. No matter who you were or where you were, you heard the same, sad stories over and over again. She told them so many times, they seemed almost rehearsed. Every word was exactly the same from the last time you heard it. What is wrong with this woman, besides the fact I swear she is clinically insane. Take some medication and leave my life alone already!
During this entire time, the boat was still drifting out to sea and I could see the band members moving about the yacht in a way that did not seem appropriate for a nice, summer time party. Finally I caught one of the guys attention and asked what was going on. The anchor broke off awhile back and we were continuously drifting further and further out. None of them really knew how to control the boat and all the technology and gadgets were beyond my comprehension. Of course, my old boss took that moment to go off on one of her rants about technology, in her old nitty bitty way. Oh my god! Just shut up already! Don't you see the big picture right now? There was a little dingy attached to the yacht and one band member said he would jump ship and row to shore-where ever that was now, to get help. Thinking it not safe for him to go by himself, I was about to request that I should tag along (I'd take a small dingy in the middle of the ocean over a huge yacht with my old boss any day). But, before I could open my mouth, the other band members already jumped in the boat, not leaving anymore room. "Stay here", they said, "we'll be back as soon as we can." "What? You are all going to leave us just floating out here?" "Try to get the radio to work and see if you can put out a mayday." Sure, right, I'll get right on that.
After a half hour of literally sitting on our hands, I finally got up and decided to play around with some of the dials on the boat. "You really shouldn't play with that, you don't know what you're doing." "Yeah, I know, but it beats sitting around while we are drifting further and further out to sea. Don't you notice the waves are getting bigger and stronger? That means we are not so close to home anymore. That little dingy isn't going to make it and those guys are going to have a heck of a time swimming back to land, especially considering they don't even know what direction land is."
I could see the annoyance taking over her mind and body, it was just something you grew accustomed to noticing after working under her for so many years. I tried to keep my calm and busy myself with whatever contraptions were in the cabin and forget she was there. Then, of course, she came into the cabin. The over powering girth of her body made it near impossible to breath without touching her in some way. What the hell? Does she like to be bumped and knocked around? I have a personal space issue, it's called I like it-so get out of mine. If you are close enough that I can smell what you had for lunch, you are too close-back the fat ass up. I close my eyes, no, I'm not going to give in and let her win, that's what she wants, that's what she always wants.
With buzzers and bells going off from all the buttons and levers I'm pushing, I finally give up. Nothing was working, whoever created this system was on crack, and I didn't see any around to start smoking to be able to figure it out myself.
I sat back down, debating if I should just drink the rest of the Champagne and fall into a drunken slumber, or if I should try to listen to another story about my old boss's mother and how she loved to make jelly. Then, as she started talking and picking her nose at the same time, I realized...we are in the middle of the ocean, for real. No one is around, at all. I have always contemplating what it would be like to just kill this woman. Just kill her dead. She would no longer spew her evilness onto anyone ever again. Ever again. I would be doing myself a justice. I would be doing the entire world a justice!
She was standing. She was standing at the edge of the boat right infront of me. "Would you like some Champagne?" I asked, my hand was shaking as I lifted the bottle. Don't move, I thought. I started pouring the Champagne into two flutes, and surprisingly, as if it was a sign, the bottle was empty. I gave a slight laugh as I held up the bottle. "Empty already?" she asked. I could feel the sardonic smile spread across my face as I lifted the bottle higher and higher. I just did it, I didn't think about it, I just swung my arm down as quickly as possible and smashed the bottle over her head. The bottle didn't break, it wasn't cheap Champagne, so it wasn't cheap glass. But it did the trick. She teetered for a moment, a blank stare in her eye. She hit the side of the boat, and before she had a chance to fall back into the boat I shoved as hard as I could until her large body swung over the built-in seating and into the blue, oh so clear and blue, water below. She never knew what hit her. The bubbles floated to the surface of the water and the yacht continued to drift off into the ocean. She never knew what hit her. And she never will.
I started laughing, holding myself in a hug. I eyed another bottle of Champagne and started pouring myself a glass. I lifted the glass into the air "To new beginnings!" I exclaimed to the open air.
Just then the radio started buzzing...
The post was to imagine yourself on a yacht in the middle of the ocean during the most perfect day with no one else but the person you hate most in life. Now, what would you say or do to this person?
First of all, it would be hard to imagine myself in this situation for numerous reasons.
1) I don't like boats unless they are the very large type that are more like floating cities than actual boats.
2) I don't like boats, therefore, I don't foresee how I would be on one by myself save for the one person I hate in life.
3) I don't like the middle of the ocean. The shore is fine; a docked boat, maybe. But the middle of the ocean? Can't foresee how I would not have tried to wiggle out of that one.
4) I don't really hate anyone that much-though I could get to hate someone if put in that situation.
OK-Let's just say, for argument purposes, a group of people, including my most hated enemy were invited on a yacht on the dock of, let's say somewhere in Florida. I was taking a holiday by myself-much needed, frankly. I picked Florida because it's a place I wouldn't normally go-hot, party central. Yeah, I wasn't having much fun until I heard about this yacht party over at pier 49. Actually, a new local band was hosting it in honor of their CD release. I happened to walk into this small tea store right outside of Bayside Market and they were giving away tickets to customers who purchased the CD. They had the music playing on the overhead speakers at the time. I was really intrigued by their sound. Knowing I had nothing to do that night anyway, I picked up the $10 CD and got my free ticket. I didn't have to use it, and anyway, the music would go well on my new running track.
As the day progressed, and I meandered around the Bayside area, my mind wandered more and ore to the yacht party and the "hot new band" hosting. I remembered I brought my new blue, as opposed to my everyday black, halter dress and silver heels. What a perfect outfit for the night. I started getting excited, so I hurried back t the house I was renting to start getting ready. I could always get ready and go somewhere else, I thought.
With my hair clipped back, as I knew the wind would be horrendous, and my dress just right, I called a taxi cab to take me to Pier 49. Ticket in one hand , clutch in the other, I saw about 4 or 5 other women all surpassing me on the 'hot' scale. Perfectly tanned and toned body's, yet you could see the plastic oozing out of their pores. The men were just as fake with their highlighted hair, polo shirts and leather sandals. I took a deep breath and got out of the cab, no turning back now! I'm on vacation, why not do something a bit on the wild side?
I walked up to the boat and tried to smile at the other people on my way up, though each one seemed to send daggers through me with their emotionless, icy smiles.
I ignored the stares and glares and walked up to the yacht. A man in a tuxedo smiled an politely asked for my ticket. I handed him the ticket I received at the tea store and was escorted by a very handsome young man to the front of the boat. He led me to a seating area unlike anything I would imagine on a boat. I felt as if I was in a millionaire's home and they just opened up the roof to allow the sun and warm summer breeze drift through the house. As I sat on the plush built-in seat at the edge of the boat, I turned my head back towards the ramp where the tuxeded man stood guard. I noticed that some of the icy smiling bitches with dogs on their arms were politely turned away as it would seem they did not possess tickets. As I sat their watching as one after another tall, tan, plastic, fake Floridian's were turned away from the yacht, I was served flutes of Champagne and silver trays of fresh fruit. The servers were all pleasant and polite to talk to. Then I realized that the servers were not servers, but the band that was hosting the party to begin with. Feeling quite foolish, I fumbled with my words and almost dropped my glass on the yacht floor. One of the members calmly smiled and told me there was no need to feel embarrassed, for they intentionally acted that way to make sure the 'right' people were at their party. Then I heard one of them moan, "She ended up showing up." He said. "Who?" I asked not really thinking. "My aunt. I told her about this party, but I never thought she would come. She's old and not very nice, but she's my aunt and I knew she was going to be in town."
I turned my head and noticed a rather large, older woman attempting to scale the ramp without overturning the boat in the process. Red faced and sweaty, I noticed a resemblance to this woman and my old boss. Then, as she looked up and started towards us, I realized, with shock and a real feeling of fear, it WAS my old boss. The woman who drove me to the brink of insanity, the woman who made my work days a living Hell, the woman who was like a cockroach in the way she would never die, no matter what evil she spread or what happened to her. She would live on the Earth forever spreading her disease called hatred and despair for all to enjoy. A dark cloud of doom seems to always follow her in her wake. All smiles crumble to tears as she passes. One look from her eyes makes even an atheist believe the Devil exists and walks the Earth.
I quickly tried to compose myself so she wouldn't see the fear on my face and then feed off of it. Damn, I knew I should have just went to a nice dinner and called it a night, maybe take a midnight swim in the swimming pool. Now I had to sit on this stupid boat with these hot, young band members and...and HER. What the Hell? Is my life that horrible? Or maybe it's just that great that I have to be put back in my place? What are the odds that we both would be on vacation at the same time at the same place and end up at the same party? What are the odds? God hates me.
So the bitch finally makes it to the front of the boat, you could already feel the tension run through all the band members. She put on one of her fake ass smiles and went in to hug her, who I now knew was her nephew. The uncomfortableness in the hug could be felt by the underwater creatures 20,000 leagues under the sea.
She turned and looked at me with a surprised look on her face. "Yeah, it's me, remember me? I'm doing well, thank you, thought I'd take a break and do a little traveling by myself before I had to spend the rest of my life behind a desk again."
"How nice." Yeah, well, it was.
Unbenowest to me, the tuxedoed man at the ramp had unroped the boat and it was slowly drifting out to sea. When I glanced passed my old boss to take a deep breath to calm myself, I noticed the shore line getting farther and farther away.
"Wait, wait! Why are we moving?" I exclaimed to one of the band members. "Oh, we are just going a bit out to sea to have a real boat party. Don't worry, we'll anchor a few miles out." Then I also realized the only people on the boat were the band members, myself and my old boss. Some party, I thought. I was feeling more and more uncomfortable and all I wanted to do was get off the boat, but there was no way that was happening now. For the next hour or so, I just listened to her talk about all her annoyances in life-for the millionth time. It's like her life stopped after 40 and the only things she knew to talk about was a brief time period between 35 and 40. No matter who you were or where you were, you heard the same, sad stories over and over again. She told them so many times, they seemed almost rehearsed. Every word was exactly the same from the last time you heard it. What is wrong with this woman, besides the fact I swear she is clinically insane. Take some medication and leave my life alone already!
During this entire time, the boat was still drifting out to sea and I could see the band members moving about the yacht in a way that did not seem appropriate for a nice, summer time party. Finally I caught one of the guys attention and asked what was going on. The anchor broke off awhile back and we were continuously drifting further and further out. None of them really knew how to control the boat and all the technology and gadgets were beyond my comprehension. Of course, my old boss took that moment to go off on one of her rants about technology, in her old nitty bitty way. Oh my god! Just shut up already! Don't you see the big picture right now? There was a little dingy attached to the yacht and one band member said he would jump ship and row to shore-where ever that was now, to get help. Thinking it not safe for him to go by himself, I was about to request that I should tag along (I'd take a small dingy in the middle of the ocean over a huge yacht with my old boss any day). But, before I could open my mouth, the other band members already jumped in the boat, not leaving anymore room. "Stay here", they said, "we'll be back as soon as we can." "What? You are all going to leave us just floating out here?" "Try to get the radio to work and see if you can put out a mayday." Sure, right, I'll get right on that.
After a half hour of literally sitting on our hands, I finally got up and decided to play around with some of the dials on the boat. "You really shouldn't play with that, you don't know what you're doing." "Yeah, I know, but it beats sitting around while we are drifting further and further out to sea. Don't you notice the waves are getting bigger and stronger? That means we are not so close to home anymore. That little dingy isn't going to make it and those guys are going to have a heck of a time swimming back to land, especially considering they don't even know what direction land is."
I could see the annoyance taking over her mind and body, it was just something you grew accustomed to noticing after working under her for so many years. I tried to keep my calm and busy myself with whatever contraptions were in the cabin and forget she was there. Then, of course, she came into the cabin. The over powering girth of her body made it near impossible to breath without touching her in some way. What the hell? Does she like to be bumped and knocked around? I have a personal space issue, it's called I like it-so get out of mine. If you are close enough that I can smell what you had for lunch, you are too close-back the fat ass up. I close my eyes, no, I'm not going to give in and let her win, that's what she wants, that's what she always wants.
With buzzers and bells going off from all the buttons and levers I'm pushing, I finally give up. Nothing was working, whoever created this system was on crack, and I didn't see any around to start smoking to be able to figure it out myself.
I sat back down, debating if I should just drink the rest of the Champagne and fall into a drunken slumber, or if I should try to listen to another story about my old boss's mother and how she loved to make jelly. Then, as she started talking and picking her nose at the same time, I realized...we are in the middle of the ocean, for real. No one is around, at all. I have always contemplating what it would be like to just kill this woman. Just kill her dead. She would no longer spew her evilness onto anyone ever again. Ever again. I would be doing myself a justice. I would be doing the entire world a justice!
She was standing. She was standing at the edge of the boat right infront of me. "Would you like some Champagne?" I asked, my hand was shaking as I lifted the bottle. Don't move, I thought. I started pouring the Champagne into two flutes, and surprisingly, as if it was a sign, the bottle was empty. I gave a slight laugh as I held up the bottle. "Empty already?" she asked. I could feel the sardonic smile spread across my face as I lifted the bottle higher and higher. I just did it, I didn't think about it, I just swung my arm down as quickly as possible and smashed the bottle over her head. The bottle didn't break, it wasn't cheap Champagne, so it wasn't cheap glass. But it did the trick. She teetered for a moment, a blank stare in her eye. She hit the side of the boat, and before she had a chance to fall back into the boat I shoved as hard as I could until her large body swung over the built-in seating and into the blue, oh so clear and blue, water below. She never knew what hit her. The bubbles floated to the surface of the water and the yacht continued to drift off into the ocean. She never knew what hit her. And she never will.
I started laughing, holding myself in a hug. I eyed another bottle of Champagne and started pouring myself a glass. I lifted the glass into the air "To new beginnings!" I exclaimed to the open air.
Just then the radio started buzzing...
Monday, April 5, 2010
Weekend the Great
This weekend was one of the better weekends I have had in a long time. Could it be because it was an extended weekend due to a holiday? The fact it was the first nice weekend in a long, long time? Or maybe it was due to the fact that I could drive where ever I wanted whenever I wanted. Whatever the reason, it was great!
Thursday night karaoke...well, ok, that wasn't SO great, but it beat sitting at home Thursday night going "this sucks, I'm bored, and I don't have to work tomorrow." Of course the fact that I couldn't drink for fear of being thrown in jail, again, creeped into my head more than once. Especially when the annoyance of the drunk people around me started taking affect. Am I really that bad? I am never drinking again...JUST KIDDING!
Friday was nice-a bit warm, but a good day. Took an evening walk around Little Italy. Though not really knowing why there were so many people out and the cops blocked the street, until I remembered what the day entailed...Good Friday. Saturday was awesome! Westside Market, cupcakes galour! Little bit of Asian and some Freedom Duck! FREEDOM DUCK! Mussels for the first time ever, and they weren't even that bad. Followed up by a romp around Ohio City and then to Union Station. Interesting little establishment. The only bad thing is, ok, I get that you are gay, but a guy is a guy. If I want to use the restroom, I shouldn't have to fear a man being in there chit-chatting with his gal pals while I'm squatting over the toilet hoping nobody peeks through the 3 inch gap around the door and the wall because, obviously gay bars don't believe in discretion. Sorry, I was never one to enjoy peeing in public restrooms, why would I enjoy a man staring at my pubes while I pissed in the yellowish brown water below?
Despise that fact, it was a good time. Have to admit, watching your brother go from sober to drunk in an evenings time is quite amusing.
I like pork rinds too. I think they are probably pretty unhealthy, but they taste so good and they are so light it takes away from the fact you are eating fat. They should just call them fat rinds. Why are they rinds anyway? What is a rind? OK, I take that back, pork rinds are not that bad for you. I think I'll have some more. I just thought, I'll take some over to the neighbors tomorrow...but they are vegetarians, I don't think that's a good idea.
EW! I just found out that pork rinds are fried pig skin. Gosh darn it, everything I like turns out to be gross or unhealthy. I should have known, I like them.
For the longest time I have been trying to find a Sims game for my DS. I haven't found anything worth buying so I was thinking about just getting a computer game. Not like I'm not on it enough, right? I should get the computer game, my little cousin said it is funnier than any other Sims game she has played. I'm sure it will be quicker then my Playstation 2 game. I get so annoyed waiting for the game to load something that I just stop playing it. Plus, you can only save one game at a time. I burned my house down once but didn't want to start all over again. But in order to play a new game and save, I had to delete the other game. I was very upset. Well, I'm over it now, I think.
Nice, I totally found a website that I can purchase and download Sims 2 Deluxe for only $20! I think I might do it. The only thing I'm worried about is my video card? I don't know what that means. I should have a video card on my computer...right? I wouldn't be able to watch video's without it...right? I'm so computer illiterate it's not even funny.
Oh well....
Ciao!
Thursday night karaoke...well, ok, that wasn't SO great, but it beat sitting at home Thursday night going "this sucks, I'm bored, and I don't have to work tomorrow." Of course the fact that I couldn't drink for fear of being thrown in jail, again, creeped into my head more than once. Especially when the annoyance of the drunk people around me started taking affect. Am I really that bad? I am never drinking again...JUST KIDDING!
Friday was nice-a bit warm, but a good day. Took an evening walk around Little Italy. Though not really knowing why there were so many people out and the cops blocked the street, until I remembered what the day entailed...Good Friday. Saturday was awesome! Westside Market, cupcakes galour! Little bit of Asian and some Freedom Duck! FREEDOM DUCK! Mussels for the first time ever, and they weren't even that bad. Followed up by a romp around Ohio City and then to Union Station. Interesting little establishment. The only bad thing is, ok, I get that you are gay, but a guy is a guy. If I want to use the restroom, I shouldn't have to fear a man being in there chit-chatting with his gal pals while I'm squatting over the toilet hoping nobody peeks through the 3 inch gap around the door and the wall because, obviously gay bars don't believe in discretion. Sorry, I was never one to enjoy peeing in public restrooms, why would I enjoy a man staring at my pubes while I pissed in the yellowish brown water below?
Despise that fact, it was a good time. Have to admit, watching your brother go from sober to drunk in an evenings time is quite amusing.
I like pork rinds too. I think they are probably pretty unhealthy, but they taste so good and they are so light it takes away from the fact you are eating fat. They should just call them fat rinds. Why are they rinds anyway? What is a rind? OK, I take that back, pork rinds are not that bad for you. I think I'll have some more. I just thought, I'll take some over to the neighbors tomorrow...but they are vegetarians, I don't think that's a good idea.
EW! I just found out that pork rinds are fried pig skin. Gosh darn it, everything I like turns out to be gross or unhealthy. I should have known, I like them.
For the longest time I have been trying to find a Sims game for my DS. I haven't found anything worth buying so I was thinking about just getting a computer game. Not like I'm not on it enough, right? I should get the computer game, my little cousin said it is funnier than any other Sims game she has played. I'm sure it will be quicker then my Playstation 2 game. I get so annoyed waiting for the game to load something that I just stop playing it. Plus, you can only save one game at a time. I burned my house down once but didn't want to start all over again. But in order to play a new game and save, I had to delete the other game. I was very upset. Well, I'm over it now, I think.
Nice, I totally found a website that I can purchase and download Sims 2 Deluxe for only $20! I think I might do it. The only thing I'm worried about is my video card? I don't know what that means. I should have a video card on my computer...right? I wouldn't be able to watch video's without it...right? I'm so computer illiterate it's not even funny.
Oh well....
Ciao!
Friday, April 2, 2010
First day of the rest of my life
I went to karaoke for the first time in a couple months last night. I drove! I DROVE! That also means I didn't drink. I sat at the bar for 4.5 hours without one drop of liquor. OK, I had ONE DROP of liquor only to taste a Purple Rain my friend ordered. It did not taste like a purple rain. That was the moment I realized I was a complete lush. I said-I know it tastes like the gross grape cough syrup your mother made you drink when you were younger, but I would so down that just because that means there is THAT much alcohol in it. Needless to say, it sat on the table untouched at the end of the night. We left 3 men behind last night. I cried a bit inside...I would have never let that happened in the past. I think I've grown up! Look mommy! I'm all grown up now!
It was interesting driving on the freeway for the first time in 6 months. Almost like I was doing something wrong. I kept looking in my mirrors and every time we came up to an emergency turn around point I would slow down just a bit. Why? I don't know-I guess I'm always going to have the feeling of guilt in the back of my head, even if I'm not guilty of anything. Always looking over my shoulder for a cop to pull me over. What will I say? No-I didn't have a drop to drink. No seriously, only caffeine. I act like this all the time, I have witnesses. Can I get a Witness? I wanted to sing that song for karaoke, but that's the only part of the song I know and I don't know the name or who sang it, so I left it alone.
I'm going to break into my sisters house now and watch the recorded Bones episode I missed last night since I was karaoking. Technically I was sitting at the hot bar with my friends wondering where this smell of ass was coming from. Then I realized it was from my food. My food smelled like ass and I ate it. Well, let's just say my shit smelled the same coming out this morning. Maybe the chicken quesidilla's was not as good of an idea as I thought it was. They were still good.
Well, Happy Good Friday-Jesus died for you-what are you going to do for me?
Ciao!
It was interesting driving on the freeway for the first time in 6 months. Almost like I was doing something wrong. I kept looking in my mirrors and every time we came up to an emergency turn around point I would slow down just a bit. Why? I don't know-I guess I'm always going to have the feeling of guilt in the back of my head, even if I'm not guilty of anything. Always looking over my shoulder for a cop to pull me over. What will I say? No-I didn't have a drop to drink. No seriously, only caffeine. I act like this all the time, I have witnesses. Can I get a Witness? I wanted to sing that song for karaoke, but that's the only part of the song I know and I don't know the name or who sang it, so I left it alone.
I'm going to break into my sisters house now and watch the recorded Bones episode I missed last night since I was karaoking. Technically I was sitting at the hot bar with my friends wondering where this smell of ass was coming from. Then I realized it was from my food. My food smelled like ass and I ate it. Well, let's just say my shit smelled the same coming out this morning. Maybe the chicken quesidilla's was not as good of an idea as I thought it was. They were still good.
Well, Happy Good Friday-Jesus died for you-what are you going to do for me?
Ciao!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
I need a beer...
Nice, warm days and all I think about is sitting outside and drinking a nice cold beer. I'm driving tonight, so I better not chance it.
I finally got my hair cut! YEAH! I'm on the fence about it though. I usually am when I got a hair cut. God I'm hungry. Fuck it, I'm getting a beer and eating some yogurt...outside. Hey, that's fun!
See ya!
Ciao!
I finally got my hair cut! YEAH! I'm on the fence about it though. I usually am when I got a hair cut. God I'm hungry. Fuck it, I'm getting a beer and eating some yogurt...outside. Hey, that's fun!
See ya!
Ciao!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Oh I forgot...
It is March 31 and I forgot to pay my 'rent'. Every month...every stinking month. It doesn't help that I am so used to not going home for lunch that I decided to stay at work (actually for fear I would not make it back into work if I left the office building) so I couldn't just throw her the check on the way out the door. Oh well, she'll deal.
On to more pressing matters.
I used to date a guy who was adamant I mean COMPLETELY adamant on letting me know all the time that he only washes with unscented soap and uses unscented deodorant. No lotions or colognes of any sort. Ok, then why did you smell like a freaking Axe commercial then freak? Yeah, that's right-you SMELLED! And his hands were so super dry that they looked and felt disgusting. "These are a man's hands" Fuck off-you can take care of yourself just like anyone else without feeling any less of a man. And if you feel that way, then YOU are the one with the problem.
I'm gonna eat me a Reese's peanut butter cup. Yum.
And this whole Blue for baby boy and Pink for baby girl is the most annoying start to segregation of the sexes. I don't know what's more annoying-those two colors, or the fact that more people are starting to bring in Yellow and Green so not to be gender specific in clothes picking. Why don't I just dress my little boy in a dress and my little girl in a jumper suit? That will really fuck with their heads. Who the hell cares-it's a freaking baby. Spending more money on a stupid outfit they will out grow in about two weeks anyway is unnecessary. Just wrap them in a towel and call it a day. They will mess up the nice new outfit one way or another plus they can't really move around much.
I think I'm a bit angry today. I blame it on the annoying receptionist and the fact my feet hurt for some reason. Oh her voice is like finger nails on a chalk board. I could just go outside for a walk...but my feet hurt. I hope it's not due to my new, over priced shoes. Maybe I'm just not used to them yet? I'll give it a few more runs and see what happens.
I'm done complaining for now.
Ciao!
On to more pressing matters.
I used to date a guy who was adamant I mean COMPLETELY adamant on letting me know all the time that he only washes with unscented soap and uses unscented deodorant. No lotions or colognes of any sort. Ok, then why did you smell like a freaking Axe commercial then freak? Yeah, that's right-you SMELLED! And his hands were so super dry that they looked and felt disgusting. "These are a man's hands" Fuck off-you can take care of yourself just like anyone else without feeling any less of a man. And if you feel that way, then YOU are the one with the problem.
I'm gonna eat me a Reese's peanut butter cup. Yum.
And this whole Blue for baby boy and Pink for baby girl is the most annoying start to segregation of the sexes. I don't know what's more annoying-those two colors, or the fact that more people are starting to bring in Yellow and Green so not to be gender specific in clothes picking. Why don't I just dress my little boy in a dress and my little girl in a jumper suit? That will really fuck with their heads. Who the hell cares-it's a freaking baby. Spending more money on a stupid outfit they will out grow in about two weeks anyway is unnecessary. Just wrap them in a towel and call it a day. They will mess up the nice new outfit one way or another plus they can't really move around much.
I think I'm a bit angry today. I blame it on the annoying receptionist and the fact my feet hurt for some reason. Oh her voice is like finger nails on a chalk board. I could just go outside for a walk...but my feet hurt. I hope it's not due to my new, over priced shoes. Maybe I'm just not used to them yet? I'll give it a few more runs and see what happens.
I'm done complaining for now.
Ciao!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Mind numbing
I can't complain, too much. I fall into that category of "Let's make plans...oops, I forgot" all the time. I usually am drunk, too focused on something else or have more than one thing going on. I can understand how this would annoy people as it annoys me when they do it to me.
But, in my defense, I always state prior to the commencement of an evening of fun: "Do not make plans with me for another occasion as I will just forget about them later." That way it's kind of like a free-be. I told you quite sober that I would forget, so now it's your fault if you disregard that information and attempt to make plans with me anyway.
I am trying to remain more sober, though. Mainly because I do not want to drive anymore if I ever drink and I have to keep up my stamina while running.
I'm thinking of going to Sharon, PA on Friday. That sounds interesting. Well, again, unless I have something better to write about I suppose this will be all for now.
Ciao!
But, in my defense, I always state prior to the commencement of an evening of fun: "Do not make plans with me for another occasion as I will just forget about them later." That way it's kind of like a free-be. I told you quite sober that I would forget, so now it's your fault if you disregard that information and attempt to make plans with me anyway.
I am trying to remain more sober, though. Mainly because I do not want to drive anymore if I ever drink and I have to keep up my stamina while running.
I'm thinking of going to Sharon, PA on Friday. That sounds interesting. Well, again, unless I have something better to write about I suppose this will be all for now.
Ciao!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Freedom Duck
I have a day off, a new license (they let me take a new picture!) and nothing to do. I heard that it is supposed to be super nice this weekend. I've been trying to search for something to do. This is probably what I will end up doing:
Run, watch a movie, get some lunch then crash until Saturday when I am going to go get some FREEDOM DUCK! Li Wah Asian Plaza and hit up The West Side Market. Nice. Until I find something better to talk about...Toe Box! HA
Run, watch a movie, get some lunch then crash until Saturday when I am going to go get some FREEDOM DUCK! Li Wah Asian Plaza and hit up The West Side Market. Nice. Until I find something better to talk about...Toe Box! HA
Thursday, March 25, 2010
I am always hungry
I love the fact that I have three programs running on my home computer right now and I am able to go back and forth between them, scroll, and actually use them all without the three hour wait it would normally take to type a letter while using dial up. I LOVE TECHNOLOGY! Only when it is working for me, and not against me. For the most part it works against me. Well, I think it's just my lack of knowledge-inanimate objects can't DO anything unless you program it...oooooh robots!
Ever get a new piece of machinery at home or at work and refuse to read the 300 page manual that comes with it? No matter if it is a new cell phone or a giant copy machine that has 14 compartments and 250 different colored buttons that beep at you "no, no, no, no, no" every time you touch one of them out of sequence. Anyway, you challenge yourself-"I know how to do this. How hard could it possibly be?" Oh, mere mortal, it would have taken less time to sit on the beach (including the plane trip to the beach) sipping on a Colata and reading, in detail, the entire manual than it would to try to figure out the dang contraption yourself.
I guess that's a bit of an exaggeration. I can usually figure things out given the time.
Every runner I have ever known (2) has told me: I run because I eat, I eat because I run. SO TRUE! I LOVE FOOD! And, thank goodness, I enjoy running. I knew that when I started training I would lose weight rather quickly because I upped my miles from 10-12 a week to 17-25 a week. That's a lot of mileage so you better believe I have lost 3 pounds in just two weeks. Yeah, 3 pounds is not much, but when you have to pack in the carbs during the day so you can maintain a good pace for over 3 miles and up, 3 pounds is a lot. And that is just the first 2 weeks of training. As with my last training schedule 8 months ago, I will lose the weight but most likely gain it back in a few weeks after the marathon. I'll forget to stop eating so much, but once I get back on track it will just be a maintaining situation. I'm good with that.
I need to start weight training again. It's just difficult to keep everything on track-running, weight training, eating, sleeping, working, trying to have a life. Yeah, that last one is going to quickly dwindle within the next couple of weeks, so I better do what I can and love now while I have the time and energy.
I lost my train of thought-did I have one? I need to get my dads birthday present together so he can actually use it when he opens it up in a few days. Which reminds me, I need to go to the liquor store...well, my sister needs to take me anyway!
Ciao!
Ever get a new piece of machinery at home or at work and refuse to read the 300 page manual that comes with it? No matter if it is a new cell phone or a giant copy machine that has 14 compartments and 250 different colored buttons that beep at you "no, no, no, no, no" every time you touch one of them out of sequence. Anyway, you challenge yourself-"I know how to do this. How hard could it possibly be?" Oh, mere mortal, it would have taken less time to sit on the beach (including the plane trip to the beach) sipping on a Colata and reading, in detail, the entire manual than it would to try to figure out the dang contraption yourself.
I guess that's a bit of an exaggeration. I can usually figure things out given the time.
Every runner I have ever known (2) has told me: I run because I eat, I eat because I run. SO TRUE! I LOVE FOOD! And, thank goodness, I enjoy running. I knew that when I started training I would lose weight rather quickly because I upped my miles from 10-12 a week to 17-25 a week. That's a lot of mileage so you better believe I have lost 3 pounds in just two weeks. Yeah, 3 pounds is not much, but when you have to pack in the carbs during the day so you can maintain a good pace for over 3 miles and up, 3 pounds is a lot. And that is just the first 2 weeks of training. As with my last training schedule 8 months ago, I will lose the weight but most likely gain it back in a few weeks after the marathon. I'll forget to stop eating so much, but once I get back on track it will just be a maintaining situation. I'm good with that.
I need to start weight training again. It's just difficult to keep everything on track-running, weight training, eating, sleeping, working, trying to have a life. Yeah, that last one is going to quickly dwindle within the next couple of weeks, so I better do what I can and love now while I have the time and energy.
I lost my train of thought-did I have one? I need to get my dads birthday present together so he can actually use it when he opens it up in a few days. Which reminds me, I need to go to the liquor store...well, my sister needs to take me anyway!
Ciao!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Ginger Biscuits
Just another day I suppose. I was wondering when I may have an actual thought worth blogging, but I haven't had one yet. Maybe tomorrow? For a split second I thought it was Friday. No, really, I did. I even almost posted "Beautiful Friday" on my facebook page, but then realized it is only Wednesday. Why? Because I am in a good mood. I am usually only in a good mood on Friday so I was taken aback for a moment.
My brother and I made biscuits last night in the shape of ginger bread men. A nice little treat for my co-workers. They were a big hit. Very good, very good. That's what happens when the last time you drank was Saturday and you have two beers and a shot. HAHAHA Saturday! That is so true. Let's make some biscuits! What are you putting in there? Does it matter? They turned out pretty good. I haven't told anyone the ingredients, and no one has asked. Your secret is safe with me ;)
My computer has been 'talking' to me all day. This high pitched churning sound. Kind of like a cricket on cocaine. There it is again. Yes, computer, I am talking about you! What are you going to do? Huh? Oh, wait, I shouldn't provoke an inanimate object that can ruin my work day if it decides to go ca put on me. Speaking of inanimate objects: GIGANTOR! Gigantor the space age robot. Bigger than big, taller than tall. Faster than fast, stronger than strong. His power is in your hand! Gigantor!
The year is 2000 and a robot built by, what I assume is a dead scientist-but we really wouldn't know considering the story just kind of starts, throws you right into the picture without much of a back story. Use your imagination! It's pretty hard when the cartoon drawings are as adolescent as the plot to the original 1963 television show. Anyway, the robot saves the humans only because a young boy is operating him. He doesn't think, talk or do anything other than what the little boy tells him to do. Interesting how the fate of humanity is left in the hands of a little boy and his giant robot toy. GIGANTOR!
The sound is driving me mad I say! MAD! I should probably leave the vicinity of the computer for a bit to allow my head to relax before I am forced to sit through another 3.5 hours of the incisive high pitched churning sound it continues to make.
AHHHHHH!!
Ciao!
My brother and I made biscuits last night in the shape of ginger bread men. A nice little treat for my co-workers. They were a big hit. Very good, very good. That's what happens when the last time you drank was Saturday and you have two beers and a shot. HAHAHA Saturday! That is so true. Let's make some biscuits! What are you putting in there? Does it matter? They turned out pretty good. I haven't told anyone the ingredients, and no one has asked. Your secret is safe with me ;)
My computer has been 'talking' to me all day. This high pitched churning sound. Kind of like a cricket on cocaine. There it is again. Yes, computer, I am talking about you! What are you going to do? Huh? Oh, wait, I shouldn't provoke an inanimate object that can ruin my work day if it decides to go ca put on me. Speaking of inanimate objects: GIGANTOR! Gigantor the space age robot. Bigger than big, taller than tall. Faster than fast, stronger than strong. His power is in your hand! Gigantor!
The year is 2000 and a robot built by, what I assume is a dead scientist-but we really wouldn't know considering the story just kind of starts, throws you right into the picture without much of a back story. Use your imagination! It's pretty hard when the cartoon drawings are as adolescent as the plot to the original 1963 television show. Anyway, the robot saves the humans only because a young boy is operating him. He doesn't think, talk or do anything other than what the little boy tells him to do. Interesting how the fate of humanity is left in the hands of a little boy and his giant robot toy. GIGANTOR!
The sound is driving me mad I say! MAD! I should probably leave the vicinity of the computer for a bit to allow my head to relax before I am forced to sit through another 3.5 hours of the incisive high pitched churning sound it continues to make.
AHHHHHH!!
Ciao!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Not so beautiful
At least the weekend was nice and I spent a good chunk of it outdoors. Well, the good chunk I spent was in cardio workout mode, but it was still spent.
I decided I want to become a spy for the American government. No, a double agent for the Columbian government. Well, I just blew my cover. Now what? I'm going to go back to school to become a librarian. You need schooling for that? Not just one of those old lady's that sits on her tuff and yells at you for being too loud, but someone who actually uses the brain they have for intellectual reasons such as research and the dewey decimal system. I love that system! Remember the card catalogue from grade school? I swear they just put them together to test the students to weed out all the stupid ones. Ever wonder why your best friend would show up to school one day and then the next they weren't there, yet no one really knew what happened to them? Did they have strep throat, chicken pox or worse yet...LICE?! Oh, good old SMT and their lice scares. It was because of one family, and don't try to tell me any differently. I will not mention their names, but let's just say if you walked into any class room you were bound to find a family memeber there. Luckily, there wasn't any in my class, just about every one below. I'm sure they are still there-procrating into the world. Isn't there the 'survival of the fitest' gene in that group? Maybe they are the fitest. Oh goodness, what does the human race have to look forward to now?
I still need a hair cut. I should look into different ideas. I think I'm going to get it done within the next week or two. I can't take it anymore.
Well, lunch is about over and I have to pee.
I decided I want to become a spy for the American government. No, a double agent for the Columbian government. Well, I just blew my cover. Now what? I'm going to go back to school to become a librarian. You need schooling for that? Not just one of those old lady's that sits on her tuff and yells at you for being too loud, but someone who actually uses the brain they have for intellectual reasons such as research and the dewey decimal system. I love that system! Remember the card catalogue from grade school? I swear they just put them together to test the students to weed out all the stupid ones. Ever wonder why your best friend would show up to school one day and then the next they weren't there, yet no one really knew what happened to them? Did they have strep throat, chicken pox or worse yet...LICE?! Oh, good old SMT and their lice scares. It was because of one family, and don't try to tell me any differently. I will not mention their names, but let's just say if you walked into any class room you were bound to find a family memeber there. Luckily, there wasn't any in my class, just about every one below. I'm sure they are still there-procrating into the world. Isn't there the 'survival of the fitest' gene in that group? Maybe they are the fitest. Oh goodness, what does the human race have to look forward to now?
I still need a hair cut. I should look into different ideas. I think I'm going to get it done within the next week or two. I can't take it anymore.
Well, lunch is about over and I have to pee.
Friday, March 19, 2010
BEA-U-TIFUL!
I need a hair cut only due to the fact it is starting to look raggity. Is that a word? It is now. I like the length and the layers, but it just needs to be cut. I know, going to the $11.99 hair cut palace, I will not be happy with my cut until about 5 weeks down the road, but I need to do it. And since I don't have the liezure of going out myself to the $25.99 place (which I'm sure will end up doing an even worse job) I will go to the $11.99 place-Hey, I think I might have a coupon! CUPON! HAHAHA I hate when people say that. CUPON! There wouldn't be an extra vowel in the word if it was pronounced that way. Though I hate the english language anyway. Oh, crap, I forgot: I was going to take a walk at lunch. But instead I am writing in my blog. Oh the humanity! I would rather sit in the florescently lit, stuffy office where the air is recycled throughout the day then go out in the bright sun, cool breeze and collect some much needed vitamin D. I'll get that later tonight, though now is the best time to collect it if one would want to.
My neighbor is 9 months and 3 days pregnant. Holy crow! At about 10am this morning she stated how she is now 3 centimeters dialated and having contractions. Well, it's about dang time is all I have to say. I saw her last night and I swear she was thinking: Give me a knife, I'll get this kid out! But then her recovery time would be too long and she wouldn't be able to run for months. Maybe I'll have another running buddy soon. I think her pace will far surpass mine, though. I've been struggling with keeping my pace steady, but as long as I finish, I'm good with that.
Well, anyway, I don't really know where I was going with any of this besides the fact I would rather be outside than in here. Hopefully the afternoon will go by faster than the morning did.
Well, here's to a good weekend!
Ciao!
My neighbor is 9 months and 3 days pregnant. Holy crow! At about 10am this morning she stated how she is now 3 centimeters dialated and having contractions. Well, it's about dang time is all I have to say. I saw her last night and I swear she was thinking: Give me a knife, I'll get this kid out! But then her recovery time would be too long and she wouldn't be able to run for months. Maybe I'll have another running buddy soon. I think her pace will far surpass mine, though. I've been struggling with keeping my pace steady, but as long as I finish, I'm good with that.
Well, anyway, I don't really know where I was going with any of this besides the fact I would rather be outside than in here. Hopefully the afternoon will go by faster than the morning did.
Well, here's to a good weekend!
Ciao!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
blockage
In my brain and in my intestine...what else is new? I've tried to write two different blogs with no success. Time is running out and the receptionist is getting antsy (isn't she always).
So, I leave you on this note: There will be more to follow in the evening hours. Tomorrow's Friday!!
Ciao!
So, I leave you on this note: There will be more to follow in the evening hours. Tomorrow's Friday!!
Ciao!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Who was Maewyn?
I suppose the better question would be: Who was St. Patrick?
There are many different ideas and symbols associated with St. Patrick's Day. But, as with most religious holidays, the true meaning has been lost to many.
A pagan by the name of Maewyn was born in Wales, AD385. Sold into slavery at the age of 16, Maewyn took this time to become closer to God. Finally escaping some six years later, Maewyn devoted his life to the Catholic faith, even taking the Christian name Patrick.
Studying at a monastery in Gaul for twelve years, Patrick dreamed of becoming bishop of Ireland and converting pagans to the Christian religion. Eventually becoming the second Bishop of Ireland, Patrick led his crusade of converting pagans by building schools and churches for the next 30 years.
The well known symbol of Ireland, the shamrock, was actually made a traditional symbol of St. Patrick's Day since Patrick had used the shamrock to help teach the Holy Trinity-showing the separate elements of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit existing as one entity. Irish Catholics would then declare to "wear your green" or pin on your shamrock in accordance of his teachings.
Dying March 17, AD461, Patrick's legacy lived on. Though never officially canonized as a saint, the Catholic holiday of St. Patrick's Day still commenced.
Celebrated mainly in Ireland as a national holiday: pubs, banks and post offices would close down in remembrance of the Catholic bishop, though the Americans knew little about the celebration.
Then, in the late 1700's, as the Irish immigrants flooded the east coast of America, they brought with them their traditions. In a new world, far from home and American's looking down on them because they were poor and spoke broken English in a harsh accent, many Irishmen were even more homesick.
March 17, 1762, Irish soldiers in the English army marched through the streets of New York City playing their country's music, allowing them to reconnect with their Irish roots and locate other Irishmen who immigrated to America. This first 'parade' on St. Patrick's Day started the tradition that continues to this day. Many well-known cities throughout the US have giant parades in celebration. Bagpipes playing, shamrocks waving in a sea of green. But why green? Another common Irish color is orange, though this color tends to be against the Catholic traditions (the separation of the country between Catholics and Protestants). But green never was St. Patrick's color, it actually was blue. The Irish flag, the King's coat of arms and the Irish guards all sported the color blue-which later was called "St. Patrick's Blue". Over time, the symbolism of the shamrock St. Patrick used related to the term of "wear your green". Some people starting taking this quite literally and actually wore green on St. Patricks Day-becoming Irish for a day.
Others associate the ritualistic wearing of green to the beginning of spring.
No matter why the change, it is a known fact that thousands of people-Irish and non-Irish alike, sport their green finery, parade in the streets, take refuge in the nearest pub, bask in Guinness and corned beef until the sun goes down every St. Patrick's Day.
So lift up your glasses in celebration as yet another holiday formed from Catholic beliefs has turned into a drink fest.
Don't worry, I'm not even going there with the evil little leprechauns and their pots of gold!
There are many different ideas and symbols associated with St. Patrick's Day. But, as with most religious holidays, the true meaning has been lost to many.
A pagan by the name of Maewyn was born in Wales, AD385. Sold into slavery at the age of 16, Maewyn took this time to become closer to God. Finally escaping some six years later, Maewyn devoted his life to the Catholic faith, even taking the Christian name Patrick.
Studying at a monastery in Gaul for twelve years, Patrick dreamed of becoming bishop of Ireland and converting pagans to the Christian religion. Eventually becoming the second Bishop of Ireland, Patrick led his crusade of converting pagans by building schools and churches for the next 30 years.
The well known symbol of Ireland, the shamrock, was actually made a traditional symbol of St. Patrick's Day since Patrick had used the shamrock to help teach the Holy Trinity-showing the separate elements of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit existing as one entity. Irish Catholics would then declare to "wear your green" or pin on your shamrock in accordance of his teachings.
Dying March 17, AD461, Patrick's legacy lived on. Though never officially canonized as a saint, the Catholic holiday of St. Patrick's Day still commenced.
Celebrated mainly in Ireland as a national holiday: pubs, banks and post offices would close down in remembrance of the Catholic bishop, though the Americans knew little about the celebration.
Then, in the late 1700's, as the Irish immigrants flooded the east coast of America, they brought with them their traditions. In a new world, far from home and American's looking down on them because they were poor and spoke broken English in a harsh accent, many Irishmen were even more homesick.
March 17, 1762, Irish soldiers in the English army marched through the streets of New York City playing their country's music, allowing them to reconnect with their Irish roots and locate other Irishmen who immigrated to America. This first 'parade' on St. Patrick's Day started the tradition that continues to this day. Many well-known cities throughout the US have giant parades in celebration. Bagpipes playing, shamrocks waving in a sea of green. But why green? Another common Irish color is orange, though this color tends to be against the Catholic traditions (the separation of the country between Catholics and Protestants). But green never was St. Patrick's color, it actually was blue. The Irish flag, the King's coat of arms and the Irish guards all sported the color blue-which later was called "St. Patrick's Blue". Over time, the symbolism of the shamrock St. Patrick used related to the term of "wear your green". Some people starting taking this quite literally and actually wore green on St. Patricks Day-becoming Irish for a day.
Others associate the ritualistic wearing of green to the beginning of spring.
No matter why the change, it is a known fact that thousands of people-Irish and non-Irish alike, sport their green finery, parade in the streets, take refuge in the nearest pub, bask in Guinness and corned beef until the sun goes down every St. Patrick's Day.
So lift up your glasses in celebration as yet another holiday formed from Catholic beliefs has turned into a drink fest.
Don't worry, I'm not even going there with the evil little leprechauns and their pots of gold!
...Alas, no
I would like to just take this time to be serious for once in my life. As I was writing the words yesterday in relief thinking that a good man and neighbor was still clinging to life, I find out later that was not the case. Unfortunately he passed away yesterday morning.
Life will go on, as the moment you are born is the moment you start to die. It's just hard to think about all of the trivial complications within your life when someone's is taken away.
Life will go on, as the moment you are born is the moment you start to die. It's just hard to think about all of the trivial complications within your life when someone's is taken away.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Good news?
Well, it would seem that my neighbor is still hanging on. I almost wonder if it would be better for him just to let go. To think, what a will he must have to live. 91 years old, or is it 92? he was diagnosed with cancer about 7 months ago. He hasn't been able to eat much of anything, yet on his birthday December 23, he seemed as happy as a clam to have his house filled with family and friends.
My parents and I, the nosey neighbors we are, stared in stunned silence yesterday morning as we saw the ambulance pull onto our circle. The EMT's were moving too slowly for there to be a real emergency, which only made the three of us think the worse. My mom quickly retreated downstairs to let out a cry for one of the best human beings ever to live. Would it not be better for him to leave this earth where his body would not allow him to do the things he once loved-golfing, shopping, eating out with friends and family, chit-chatting with the neighbors and feeding the children sugary goodness their parents won't allow them in their own home?
And then you have these young teenagers who kill themselves in a suicide pact. For what reason? Could their lives, what little of it they have lived, really be that horrible that they would end it on their own accord, when a man who has gone through war and remembers every heartbreaking detail, watched his own wife deteriorate in front of him, watched his children and grandchildren grow up in front of his eyes, cling on to life with nothing but little more than a string.
He is still alive...today. But he does not have much life inside of him to go on. It almost makes you think life in a different way, doesn't it?
My parents and I, the nosey neighbors we are, stared in stunned silence yesterday morning as we saw the ambulance pull onto our circle. The EMT's were moving too slowly for there to be a real emergency, which only made the three of us think the worse. My mom quickly retreated downstairs to let out a cry for one of the best human beings ever to live. Would it not be better for him to leave this earth where his body would not allow him to do the things he once loved-golfing, shopping, eating out with friends and family, chit-chatting with the neighbors and feeding the children sugary goodness their parents won't allow them in their own home?
And then you have these young teenagers who kill themselves in a suicide pact. For what reason? Could their lives, what little of it they have lived, really be that horrible that they would end it on their own accord, when a man who has gone through war and remembers every heartbreaking detail, watched his own wife deteriorate in front of him, watched his children and grandchildren grow up in front of his eyes, cling on to life with nothing but little more than a string.
He is still alive...today. But he does not have much life inside of him to go on. It almost makes you think life in a different way, doesn't it?
Sunday, March 14, 2010
The day after...
Shit...Oh Shit. The words I know I uttered at least seven or eight times between the hours of 3pm and 9pm. For all I knew...I don't remember anything after some time in the day.
Another day of random drinking. Well, it was my last binge, so I guess I went all out. Seriously. I knew the mistake was made when I decided to get the all-you-can-drink special. Never get the all-you-can-drink-special unless you want to die.
OK, let's think about this: 8:30 in the morning, you go to breakfast with your dad and brother, meet up with some family members. No big deal, right? Well, when you throw in St. Patrick's Day, bottomless cups of beer and a card game-not to mention shots, shots and oh my God, more shots...Shit. Has my stomach settled, yet? I don't know what happened after 2:30 in the afternoon. I hope I paid the bar tab. I have never blacked out like that before...a hole chunk of the day just gone. All gone. Well, some of it was left somewhere in the bathroom, I'm sure.
Ok, let's not talk about that anymore I think I'm going to be sick.
Six miles today...oh, I can totally do this!
Not to mention, I think my 91 year old neighbor may have died this morning. Let's take a moment of silence and offer up the empty beer glass to him. He deserves it. Wouldn't it be awesome if Caleb, my neighbors baby, were to be born today? As one takes his last breath, another one comes screaming into the world. I guess my day yesterday seems almost trivial compared to life in itself...
Another day of random drinking. Well, it was my last binge, so I guess I went all out. Seriously. I knew the mistake was made when I decided to get the all-you-can-drink special. Never get the all-you-can-drink-special unless you want to die.
OK, let's think about this: 8:30 in the morning, you go to breakfast with your dad and brother, meet up with some family members. No big deal, right? Well, when you throw in St. Patrick's Day, bottomless cups of beer and a card game-not to mention shots, shots and oh my God, more shots...Shit. Has my stomach settled, yet? I don't know what happened after 2:30 in the afternoon. I hope I paid the bar tab. I have never blacked out like that before...a hole chunk of the day just gone. All gone. Well, some of it was left somewhere in the bathroom, I'm sure.
Ok, let's not talk about that anymore I think I'm going to be sick.
Six miles today...oh, I can totally do this!
Not to mention, I think my 91 year old neighbor may have died this morning. Let's take a moment of silence and offer up the empty beer glass to him. He deserves it. Wouldn't it be awesome if Caleb, my neighbors baby, were to be born today? As one takes his last breath, another one comes screaming into the world. I guess my day yesterday seems almost trivial compared to life in itself...
Friday, March 12, 2010
Smile! It's Friday!
I was driving to work this morning and I said to myself, damn, I look good today. I laughed out loud. Then I went into the factory, and my own opinion on myself was confirmed when a factory worker literally ran up to me so I could hear him over the machinery-“I just wanted to say I like your outfit today.” I don’t know, today’s a really good day. So what if it is not even lunch time.
Weird, I just saw the VP of the company run through the office. But then again, is it really that weird? If you knew him you probably wouldn’t think so. That reminds me of the time, oh, probably about 5 years ago, when he was running through the office of our old building and collided right into me. That should have been the day I said, See ya! But I still stayed on, it’s not like he didn’t say he was sorry-though it was mumbled incoherently as he kept running past. On second thought, did he even apologize? Mother…!
I stopped drinking coffee again for about a month. This week I have been drinking it like water. No wonder why I am so antsy today. Oh my goodness, the words are forming in my brain faster than I can type them out, which is causing me to leave out great sections. Don’t get me wrong, I am a fast typer, but even my fingers aren’t that fast! I think a feature length film was just created in my brain but I was too slow on the output to fully grasp the plot. Dangit. I could have won that Oscar! I blame it on the alcohol…or lack there of considering I haven’t drank since Sunday. I know, not even a week, and look at me! Falling apart at the seams!
Ok, technically I am writing this during working hours-though I probably won’t post it until lunch time. Maybe my next post will be from my house as I was fired for doing “unrelated work activity during working hours.” If that’s the case…well, needless to say, the economy, the fact we built a billion dollar building 4 years ago and the fact that management does not seem to truly grasp how to run a company successfully has created much down time for me. I have learned a lot of useless information. Like, well, the Easter Bunny for one. I also learned about Santa Claus, and in a few days you will see what I learned about on St. Patrick. Not to mention, how heavy human hair is, where the fat goes after you lose it…the list goes on my friends. Maybe I should just start blogging about all my google encounters. That would be fun!
Ok, so I understand that not many people have much to do here, but the receptionist keeps coming over to talk to me. If I wanted to talk to you, I would have gotten up and talked to you. Not to mention her grammar is like fingernails on a chalk board to me. I’m in too good of a mood to let that bog me down. On to better things! I don’t even know what I was talking about anymore. It’s ok, I’m just drunk! HAHAHA the two people that read this will get that reference.
Enjoy your Friday!
Ciao!
Weird, I just saw the VP of the company run through the office. But then again, is it really that weird? If you knew him you probably wouldn’t think so. That reminds me of the time, oh, probably about 5 years ago, when he was running through the office of our old building and collided right into me. That should have been the day I said, See ya! But I still stayed on, it’s not like he didn’t say he was sorry-though it was mumbled incoherently as he kept running past. On second thought, did he even apologize? Mother…!
I stopped drinking coffee again for about a month. This week I have been drinking it like water. No wonder why I am so antsy today. Oh my goodness, the words are forming in my brain faster than I can type them out, which is causing me to leave out great sections. Don’t get me wrong, I am a fast typer, but even my fingers aren’t that fast! I think a feature length film was just created in my brain but I was too slow on the output to fully grasp the plot. Dangit. I could have won that Oscar! I blame it on the alcohol…or lack there of considering I haven’t drank since Sunday. I know, not even a week, and look at me! Falling apart at the seams!
Ok, technically I am writing this during working hours-though I probably won’t post it until lunch time. Maybe my next post will be from my house as I was fired for doing “unrelated work activity during working hours.” If that’s the case…well, needless to say, the economy, the fact we built a billion dollar building 4 years ago and the fact that management does not seem to truly grasp how to run a company successfully has created much down time for me. I have learned a lot of useless information. Like, well, the Easter Bunny for one. I also learned about Santa Claus, and in a few days you will see what I learned about on St. Patrick. Not to mention, how heavy human hair is, where the fat goes after you lose it…the list goes on my friends. Maybe I should just start blogging about all my google encounters. That would be fun!
Ok, so I understand that not many people have much to do here, but the receptionist keeps coming over to talk to me. If I wanted to talk to you, I would have gotten up and talked to you. Not to mention her grammar is like fingernails on a chalk board to me. I’m in too good of a mood to let that bog me down. On to better things! I don’t even know what I was talking about anymore. It’s ok, I’m just drunk! HAHAHA the two people that read this will get that reference.
Enjoy your Friday!
Ciao!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
To write or not to write...
I asked myself that question because I don't really have anything to write about. Plus I added to my marathon training page, so I'm pretty much done. Actually, I'm not. Just thinking about the will power I lack, I really want to go out tonight and have a beer with some friends. Speaking of instigators-I got a call from my friend wondering why I'm not going out. After telling her, she mocked me for my change of life style so abruptly. I will not let that deter me. But wouldn't an ice cold beer be good right about now? I think it would be only for the fact that I am trying not to drink it, and I continue to talk about it. Reminds me of the three days I could not drink before I went to hotel jail. And then I find out I didn't have to not drink! It was a ploy to freak out the unsuspecting! Those dirty bastards! I do have to admit, and I've said it before, that was the best weekend with a bunch of strangers I have ever had. SOBER! Only 16 days...who's counting?
Ok, I do have a hidden agenda that I have not told anyone about. In June I'm going to meet up with some old college friends. Though I have lost probably about 40 pounds since the last time I saw them, I hope to get really toned up before I see them. I guess it's just a silly way for me to say: "Yeah, you are all married and have a significant other with babies and a good job, not living with your parents...but look at my hot body!" Eh, that's really stupid, isn't it? Oh well, whatever gets me going, right?
Sexy, sexy, hot! Hot! Just wait! You just wait and see!
Oh, do you notice the ads change depending on what I write about? How awesome is that? HA! Got stomach bloating problems??
Ok, I do have a hidden agenda that I have not told anyone about. In June I'm going to meet up with some old college friends. Though I have lost probably about 40 pounds since the last time I saw them, I hope to get really toned up before I see them. I guess it's just a silly way for me to say: "Yeah, you are all married and have a significant other with babies and a good job, not living with your parents...but look at my hot body!" Eh, that's really stupid, isn't it? Oh well, whatever gets me going, right?
Sexy, sexy, hot! Hot! Just wait! You just wait and see!
Oh, do you notice the ads change depending on what I write about? How awesome is that? HA! Got stomach bloating problems??
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
No more constipation...
...but now it won't stop. Which is worse, the bloating and pressure from being constipated for two days, or the fact that once you are able to poop, it just won't stop coming? I was literally on the pot for 20 minutes with it screaming out of my back side. I seriously thought that if I looked in the murky water I might find a trail of my intestines, or worse, a liver. What would I do without my liver?! The cramps that presist are killing me! My eyeballs are swimming in tears of pain as I sit hunched over the keyboard right now. Which is the lesser of the two evils? Can't I just have a happy medium? Like, semi-loose stools that leave relief in its wake? Not constant pain that I can't even breathe.
Not to mention I was trying to run a good 3 miles when it started. I was able to run the 3 miles, but it wasn't good. And I'm sure the people around me didn't appreciate the gas expelling from my bung hole. Hey man, you got to do what you got to do. At the end of my run (which ended up lasting 4.5 miles) I grasped the sides of the treadmill, a grimace that some mistook for a smile of completion on my face. I don't poo in public, get me out of here and get me home! Of course I was stopped by every single traffic light and stuck behind a cell phone driver going 25 in a 35 and breaking every 5 seconds. Oh my Jesus! But I made it home and on the pot in time for it to bluuuuubluuuuubluuuup into the toilet water.
Wait, oops, got to go!
Ciao!
Not to mention I was trying to run a good 3 miles when it started. I was able to run the 3 miles, but it wasn't good. And I'm sure the people around me didn't appreciate the gas expelling from my bung hole. Hey man, you got to do what you got to do. At the end of my run (which ended up lasting 4.5 miles) I grasped the sides of the treadmill, a grimace that some mistook for a smile of completion on my face. I don't poo in public, get me out of here and get me home! Of course I was stopped by every single traffic light and stuck behind a cell phone driver going 25 in a 35 and breaking every 5 seconds. Oh my Jesus! But I made it home and on the pot in time for it to bluuuuubluuuuubluuuup into the toilet water.
Wait, oops, got to go!
Ciao!
Hump Day
Today is what we consider "Hump Day". Mainly by working America, anyway. The middle of the work week-two days behind us and two days to go. Just to start it all over again. OK, I have been told that my posts are much too cynical and depressing. I am going to start over again and try to make them as upbeat as my life, I suppose. Not saying my life is completely upbeat, but I do have fun, contrary to what is read on this blog.
My Hump Day is decent so far. I am looking forward to the weekend because Saturday is the annual celebration of St. Patrick's Day. I don't celebrate during the week because, well, because I work during the week and if this year is anything like last year-Those birds are sluts! Oh, if you don't get the reference, I dare not explain. Let's just say Suessical The Musical and drinking since 8 in the morning are not a good combination. Whatever, those birds were freaking sluts.
I normally go to a local bar with my father where he meets up with his cousins. We have a 'normal' St. Patty's breakfast consisting of some sort of eggs, some sort of fried meat and maybe some toast thrown in there for good measure. This is followed up with a green beer. I normally don't like my beer green because I tend not to drink the watered down crap of the college years. And in actuality the meal is not followed up with the beer, the beer is followed up with the meal. You start drinking the moment you sit down at a card table with old-style diner chairs. The smell of grease is not one easily missed from the street, let alone from the doorway. You already know this, so you wear something that you are willing to toss in the "wash immediately or will be ruined for life" bin and have an outfit waiting for you on your bed when you return home in the drunken stuppor you are bound to be in. Every two or three beers is followed by a round of Jagger shots (with a bit of red bull for me, thank you). A round of pool is probably played, though the game can't be taken seriously as you are too afraid a ball will go flying from the table on hit someone on the head. Therefore, you opt for the less risky game of virtual bowling. But, again, this can not be taken seriously because everytime you roll the white ball, you almost slip on the floor due to the grease wafting through the air. Regardless how my time is spent at this dive bar, it is spent. And when I leave around 11am or noon the same words are always utter from my lips "Damn! It's light outside!" You some how make it home (thanking dad the whole way for only having coffee and one shot of Jagger) only to crack open a waiting beer at home so as not to loose your buzz and pass out in a drunken comma. Oh, let the day/night commence! I can not wait! I think I may pass out at 9pm as I am running 6 miles on Sunday...Oh who cares, it's only one day a year you are allowed to get drunk BEFORE the sun goes DOWN without being considered an alcoholic.
Here's to Saturday!
Ciao!
My Hump Day is decent so far. I am looking forward to the weekend because Saturday is the annual celebration of St. Patrick's Day. I don't celebrate during the week because, well, because I work during the week and if this year is anything like last year-Those birds are sluts! Oh, if you don't get the reference, I dare not explain. Let's just say Suessical The Musical and drinking since 8 in the morning are not a good combination. Whatever, those birds were freaking sluts.
I normally go to a local bar with my father where he meets up with his cousins. We have a 'normal' St. Patty's breakfast consisting of some sort of eggs, some sort of fried meat and maybe some toast thrown in there for good measure. This is followed up with a green beer. I normally don't like my beer green because I tend not to drink the watered down crap of the college years. And in actuality the meal is not followed up with the beer, the beer is followed up with the meal. You start drinking the moment you sit down at a card table with old-style diner chairs. The smell of grease is not one easily missed from the street, let alone from the doorway. You already know this, so you wear something that you are willing to toss in the "wash immediately or will be ruined for life" bin and have an outfit waiting for you on your bed when you return home in the drunken stuppor you are bound to be in. Every two or three beers is followed by a round of Jagger shots (with a bit of red bull for me, thank you). A round of pool is probably played, though the game can't be taken seriously as you are too afraid a ball will go flying from the table on hit someone on the head. Therefore, you opt for the less risky game of virtual bowling. But, again, this can not be taken seriously because everytime you roll the white ball, you almost slip on the floor due to the grease wafting through the air. Regardless how my time is spent at this dive bar, it is spent. And when I leave around 11am or noon the same words are always utter from my lips "Damn! It's light outside!" You some how make it home (thanking dad the whole way for only having coffee and one shot of Jagger) only to crack open a waiting beer at home so as not to loose your buzz and pass out in a drunken comma. Oh, let the day/night commence! I can not wait! I think I may pass out at 9pm as I am running 6 miles on Sunday...Oh who cares, it's only one day a year you are allowed to get drunk BEFORE the sun goes DOWN without being considered an alcoholic.
Here's to Saturday!
Ciao!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Maybe a little too much information?
Ok, I'm sorry, but I have to say this. I hate being sick because my body has this way of over reacting to everything. I can't take any sort of medicine for fear I will become loopy and say/do things I wouldn't normally (and that's saying a lot). No, they don't make be drowsy, they make me wacked out! So, not only do I have to go through the week of snot and sinus pressure without relief, but, on top of that, my body decides it doesn't want to eat, yet anything I do happen to consume will sit in my lower intestine pushing against my bladder but will not remove itself from my body. I will pee 100 times a day and still be thirsty, yet I can not poop. I just can't. I can push as long and hard as I want, the best thing to come is a bit-o-gas. My lower back will start hurting, my stomach will distent and I will be very uncomfortable. But I will not poop. I will start getting bloated, which is already happening, to the point where my eyes feel like they will bulge from my head. My fingers will look and feel like sausages and my socks will start leaving indentations around my ankles. My SOCKS! Light cotton fluff leaves marks around my ankles! JUST BECAUSE I CAN NOT POOP! And they ask why I don't want to have children. I can't take this for a week, how will I be able to for 9 months?!
Oh, but let me tell you-the relief you get once that healthy poop does come out. You sit on the toilet knowing, this is the moment! You feel the first movements from down under. After that first push, it all just comes sliding out. It's such a satifactory feeling that all you can do is smile. Oh what a wonderful feeling, that relief of constipation!
Well, I will leave you with that. For if you have ever been in my position, you know exactly what I am talking about.
Ciao!
Oh, but let me tell you-the relief you get once that healthy poop does come out. You sit on the toilet knowing, this is the moment! You feel the first movements from down under. After that first push, it all just comes sliding out. It's such a satifactory feeling that all you can do is smile. Oh what a wonderful feeling, that relief of constipation!
Well, I will leave you with that. For if you have ever been in my position, you know exactly what I am talking about.
Ciao!
Monday, March 8, 2010
Best wait ever
There are some places that you just don't mind when the host/hostess says: "I'm sorry, but there will be a two hour wait." You are like, "That's it? Really? I was ready for at least a four hour wait. I even brought snacks to share with the other patrons of the evening." If you don't know what restaurant I may be talking about, it is the widely known (in the greater Cleveland area) Melt.
www.meltbarandgrilled.com
Ok, so it can be considered a glorified grilled cheese establishment, but with a beer list that needs its own menu and at least 12 different standard 'grilled cheese' sandwiches to choose from, I don't think you will be going home with any doubt in your mind that this place is one of the best. Health conscious people beware, there isn't much on the menu that doesn't consist of a pound of grease needed to grill and fry up a two night affair with Melt. Unless you are a cow with four stomachs (and if you are, you probably would not be eating much on the menu)one sandwich with a pile of fries and a nice helping of homemade coleslaw will last you into the next day. I have tried three different sandwiches so far, and they all top the previous. Only because it happens to be what I am eating at that moment. Every month they come out with a new special, which can be voted on to keep as a standard on their menu. To say the least, every time you go in, there is something new awaiting your taste buds.
If you are a beer connoisseur, then the four page menu of beers listed categorically including Ales, Pilsners, Porters and Wheats and the more commonly known "American" beers is for you. If you are anything like me, you get intimidated over the shear magnatude of the list, flustered, you just go with something on your 'reserve' list. You know, the list you keep that has some 'different' beers on it so when you go to a restaurant with their own menu of beers, you can easily say, I will have a Nevada Pale Ale, and know how it tastes but not feel like an ass while asking for a Miller Light. "Excuse me, did you say Miller Light? Did you even read the menu I procured for you listing the 55 different beer choices we offer?" Now, I'm not going to a restaurant and paying $4 for a bottle of Miller Light when I can get something that actually has body and flavor. Though, as previously mentioned, those beers are not for the health conscious. It's ok-I'm only having one. Riiiiiight!
There are only two things I do not like about Melt-the location (as it is a good 45 minute drive from my house) and the fact that you want to die after you stuff your face with all the goodness it offers. I guess a person with more self control would not have this problem, but, alas, my self control depletes when the food is set in front of me after a beer and a half into the evening. I do not say the wait because this is actually the best time (as long as you have the time). You can people watch (and Lakewood is a great place to do that) and actually be able to have a conversation with your friends/family before you start stuffing your face full of cheesy goodness.
Well, I suppose my time is up. Try it out for yourself-I guarantee that you will have a good time!
Ciao!
www.meltbarandgrilled.com
Ok, so it can be considered a glorified grilled cheese establishment, but with a beer list that needs its own menu and at least 12 different standard 'grilled cheese' sandwiches to choose from, I don't think you will be going home with any doubt in your mind that this place is one of the best. Health conscious people beware, there isn't much on the menu that doesn't consist of a pound of grease needed to grill and fry up a two night affair with Melt. Unless you are a cow with four stomachs (and if you are, you probably would not be eating much on the menu)one sandwich with a pile of fries and a nice helping of homemade coleslaw will last you into the next day. I have tried three different sandwiches so far, and they all top the previous. Only because it happens to be what I am eating at that moment. Every month they come out with a new special, which can be voted on to keep as a standard on their menu. To say the least, every time you go in, there is something new awaiting your taste buds.
If you are a beer connoisseur, then the four page menu of beers listed categorically including Ales, Pilsners, Porters and Wheats and the more commonly known "American" beers is for you. If you are anything like me, you get intimidated over the shear magnatude of the list, flustered, you just go with something on your 'reserve' list. You know, the list you keep that has some 'different' beers on it so when you go to a restaurant with their own menu of beers, you can easily say, I will have a Nevada Pale Ale, and know how it tastes but not feel like an ass while asking for a Miller Light. "Excuse me, did you say Miller Light? Did you even read the menu I procured for you listing the 55 different beer choices we offer?" Now, I'm not going to a restaurant and paying $4 for a bottle of Miller Light when I can get something that actually has body and flavor. Though, as previously mentioned, those beers are not for the health conscious. It's ok-I'm only having one. Riiiiiight!
There are only two things I do not like about Melt-the location (as it is a good 45 minute drive from my house) and the fact that you want to die after you stuff your face with all the goodness it offers. I guess a person with more self control would not have this problem, but, alas, my self control depletes when the food is set in front of me after a beer and a half into the evening. I do not say the wait because this is actually the best time (as long as you have the time). You can people watch (and Lakewood is a great place to do that) and actually be able to have a conversation with your friends/family before you start stuffing your face full of cheesy goodness.
Well, I suppose my time is up. Try it out for yourself-I guarantee that you will have a good time!
Ciao!
Sunday, March 7, 2010
And the Oscar goes to....
For as long as I remember I always wanted to be one of those 'happy' pretty people sitting on the floor (as opposed to the upper decks) of the Academy Awards. Knowing I was nominated for best Screen Writer, or Most Original Script or whatever the category. My name was called and I would jump up on the stage in my normal, I'm a bit shy, but let's have fun with it way. I would smile real dorky-like as I grabbed for the golden statue of a man-is he naked? I never really could tell. I would stand in front of the hundreds of well-knowns looking up at this not quite yet 30 year old woman in her off-the-rack just on sale after prom dress (don't get me wrong, it's still a styling piece of fabric drapped over my perfectly toned body with my long flowing hair cascading down the cut out back). I would blurt out a "Thank you to all my friends and family back home" and forget the rest of my speech I literally prepared at the age of 15 (I told you, I've been dreaming this for quite some time). But why do I dream this impossible dream? Is it because I want to be recognized for all the hard work and dedication I put into creating something so why not opt for the most televised and presumably watched award show to receive my recognition? Or is it because when I get on that stage all I really want to do is say "Suck it America!" I guess it depends on what I won for.
I could go on in my critical, cynical way and talk about how the Academy Awards is just another way American's would rather live a life in a fairy tale as opposed to looking at the real picture and see what is going on around them. It's not every day an off the cut, indy film made regarding the irony of man-kind is nominated, yet alone wins such a 'prestigious' award. But I will yield to popular demand and just say, yeah, the Academy Awards is just another reason why I hate America, but let's give up for the men and women who spend their lives making us laugh, cry and do unsensible things when you have nothing better to do on a Saturday night. Though I would rather give it up to people who really deserve it.
Well, here's to the little golden man (naked or not).
Ciao!
I could go on in my critical, cynical way and talk about how the Academy Awards is just another way American's would rather live a life in a fairy tale as opposed to looking at the real picture and see what is going on around them. It's not every day an off the cut, indy film made regarding the irony of man-kind is nominated, yet alone wins such a 'prestigious' award. But I will yield to popular demand and just say, yeah, the Academy Awards is just another reason why I hate America, but let's give up for the men and women who spend their lives making us laugh, cry and do unsensible things when you have nothing better to do on a Saturday night. Though I would rather give it up to people who really deserve it.
Well, here's to the little golden man (naked or not).
Ciao!
Friday, March 5, 2010
Friday
So, yesterday was obviously a bum day. Did anyone care? Obviously not otherwise I'm sure at least one person would have commented. What if I killed myself? Don't worry, I'm not going to do that. There is much more fun and excitement just waiting for me in life for me to end it right now. If I die, so be it, but it won't be by my hand.
Let's focus on something else. What? I really don't know. I guess I'll just ramble on for the next two minutes starting...NOW:
Do you ever wonder why the phrase is "A desert island" is used? I mean, the definition of an island is a land mass surrounded by water, so how can it be a desert? Unless they mean, technically, a human can not consume salt water without the fear of a slow, agonizing death-for real, yo. Don't drink salt water. There is a way to create drinking water out of salt water, I just haven't googled it yet. Now that I'm thinking about it, I probably will. Hmmm...more to follow on that one. So, I guess it is understandable, figuratively speaking, to use "a desert island" because you can not drink the water surrounding your new home, therefore you may run the risk of dying of thirst-just like you would in a desert. Unless you are that Bear guy-Man Vs. Wild. I'm sure he will find a way to drink a birds pee and survive off of mud.
Well, it seems that my two minutes are up. Did I leave anyone hanging?
HAPPY FRIDAY!!!
Ciao!
Let's focus on something else. What? I really don't know. I guess I'll just ramble on for the next two minutes starting...NOW:
Do you ever wonder why the phrase is "A desert island" is used? I mean, the definition of an island is a land mass surrounded by water, so how can it be a desert? Unless they mean, technically, a human can not consume salt water without the fear of a slow, agonizing death-for real, yo. Don't drink salt water. There is a way to create drinking water out of salt water, I just haven't googled it yet. Now that I'm thinking about it, I probably will. Hmmm...more to follow on that one. So, I guess it is understandable, figuratively speaking, to use "a desert island" because you can not drink the water surrounding your new home, therefore you may run the risk of dying of thirst-just like you would in a desert. Unless you are that Bear guy-Man Vs. Wild. I'm sure he will find a way to drink a birds pee and survive off of mud.
Well, it seems that my two minutes are up. Did I leave anyone hanging?
HAPPY FRIDAY!!!
Ciao!
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Thursday March 4th, 2010
*sigh* another day in the life of me. Could I try to make it through one day without upsetting someone over something so stupid? Problaby not. I think it is in my genes somewhere stating I have to continually fuck up everything and make my life even more miserable.
I had soup for lunch and now the roof of my mouth is seriously burnt. Yeah, there is a blister forming, not even lying. That's just great, because now all day long I am going to be touching it with my tongue. I guess to make sure it is still there. You know how you unconsciously do that kind of thing. Like, if you have a scab you just have to pick at it-though you know by picking at it will just create a scar or take the wound longer to heal.
Son-of-a-bitch. The entire world is against me today. I can't even open my email because the server is having an 'expected, temporary problem'. Well, I guess the entire world isn't against me as I do not know everyone and everything in it. But, right now the small little area of the world I am in seems to be working against me. I wouldn't be surprised if the ceiling tiles fell down around my desk. And of course I would get blamed for it. Probably something along the lines of "If you weren't so loud..."; "Maybe if you stopped joking around..."; "If you didn't jump like a little bunny rabbit from place to place instead of walking like a normal human being..." I really guess today is just a vent day. I don't normally bitch and moan to no end, therefore I am taking this opportunity to do so. Joking aside: I wish I was drunk right now.
Great, now I have to take time out of my lunch (I don't get paid for this people) to listen to the phones because the back door is locked and the receptionist is freaking out because a freight line is delivering and can't get into the building. What if I had gone home like I normally did 5 months ago before the freaking city and state decided to take my license away. Damn I wish I was drunk right now. But I guess that's what got me into this predicament to begin with. It has literally been an up hill battle for me ever since that night, 5 months ago. Everything has just shit up my entire life. And I blame it on no one but myself.
I better go before I start a never ending rant...though I think I already started, let's just stop right there.
I had soup for lunch and now the roof of my mouth is seriously burnt. Yeah, there is a blister forming, not even lying. That's just great, because now all day long I am going to be touching it with my tongue. I guess to make sure it is still there. You know how you unconsciously do that kind of thing. Like, if you have a scab you just have to pick at it-though you know by picking at it will just create a scar or take the wound longer to heal.
Son-of-a-bitch. The entire world is against me today. I can't even open my email because the server is having an 'expected, temporary problem'. Well, I guess the entire world isn't against me as I do not know everyone and everything in it. But, right now the small little area of the world I am in seems to be working against me. I wouldn't be surprised if the ceiling tiles fell down around my desk. And of course I would get blamed for it. Probably something along the lines of "If you weren't so loud..."; "Maybe if you stopped joking around..."; "If you didn't jump like a little bunny rabbit from place to place instead of walking like a normal human being..." I really guess today is just a vent day. I don't normally bitch and moan to no end, therefore I am taking this opportunity to do so. Joking aside: I wish I was drunk right now.
Great, now I have to take time out of my lunch (I don't get paid for this people) to listen to the phones because the back door is locked and the receptionist is freaking out because a freight line is delivering and can't get into the building. What if I had gone home like I normally did 5 months ago before the freaking city and state decided to take my license away. Damn I wish I was drunk right now. But I guess that's what got me into this predicament to begin with. It has literally been an up hill battle for me ever since that night, 5 months ago. Everything has just shit up my entire life. And I blame it on no one but myself.
I better go before I start a never ending rant...though I think I already started, let's just stop right there.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Easter Bunny Hopping Through the Forest
Well, most of you who read this blog will already know what this post is before you go any further. But, there may be an off-chance someone new popped on by. So read on my friends! Read on!
By the way, does anyone know any Easter Bunny songs? By the end of my lunch hour I'm sure I'll find at least one.
‘Tis another season of fun-filled adventures with mythical creatures assigned to religious holidays.
The Easter season is just now upon us, what better to bring joy to the children of yours other than large quantities of chocolates in the shape of cute, cuddly bunnies and colorful eggs filled with sugar infused beans? And where, pray tell did these offerings of obesity making goodness come from? Why, where else than the giant hopping Bunny?
I ask, when did a religious holiday based on the resurrection of a dead man (who gave his life for all humanity…) involve a giant hopping Bunny with colorful eggs and chocolates shaped like his offspring? To simply answer: many, many years ago.
Let’s imagine a time before Christianity took over the lives of the thousands upon thousands of people. Imagine a time when people would get down on their knees upon witness of a solar eclipse-yet to them it was the dawning of a new age, a new god or goddess erected in the absence of the knowledge we have today; a story to tell sleepy children who would not let up on their parents with the wondering thoughts of the changing seasons.
Upon this, we will start our story within the Pagan community centuries before our time.
The beginning of Spring meant the awakening of Eastre: the goddess of fertility and new beginning. The winter season is now over and the seeds have been planted. The beginnings of life yet again burst from the once frozen ground. The timing was always perfect; just as the last snow flake falls, the sun will start to burst its radiant rays over the land. All is needed is the tender touch of the goddess to wake up the once sleeping world into a new day.
But, alas, there was one year that Eastre, frozen in her own slumber, failed to read the signs of the end of winter. Therefore, the winter season continued, yet the land, and creatures throughout, knew it to be spring. The birds tried to fly and the grass tried to grow, but Eastre, still in her slumber, had not awakened the warmth of a new spring day in order to allow creation to flow.
In a frenzy, Eastre awoke, only to find despair before her. A bird, trying to fly in the winter snow, lay with its wings frozen to the ground. Horribly heartbroken, this goddess of fertility would not allow the bird to die. Knowing that the bird would no longer live a happy life as a bird with two broken wings, she turned the bird into a winter hare, an animal as fertile as can be. Her compassion did not stop there; she gave the hare the power of speed, so he may out run any hunter and live for all eternity. In order to keep the hare close to its original roots, she gave him the ability to lay eggs, eggs as colorful as a perfect spring day (though of course the hare-and therefore previous bird-were both symbolized as being male. Male birds do not lay eggs. Was this really an ability the hare would want? Who am I to judge?). This hare could only lay these eggs upon the awakening of Eastre and the beginning of spring.
The hare, now a happy creation of spring, hopped about the land, laying his offerings for all to enjoy in the celebration of the rebirth of the lands.
But what has this to do with Easter? Upon the birth of Christianity, the Christians tried to make their religion look attractive to the Pagan’s by turning Pagan festivals into Christian holidays. The Pagan Eastre festival occurred around the same time the Christians marked the resurrection of the Christ Lord. Thus, melding the two celebrations in one-the Bunny and all. Of course, over time the Christians took over the celebration of the season, turning Eastre into Easter and the symbolism of the bunny (hare) into innocence and sacrificial offerings. Again, symbolizing the innocence of Christ and the ultimate sacrifice: his life for humanity.
The Easter Bunny we know today actually stemmed from the Germans (ah, the Germans, good at everything but coming up with a fool proof plan to take over the world). It was their tradition, in the early 1600’s, that on Easter morning, children would wake to find that the Easter Bunny left little pellets of goodies for them to either find throughout the house or in the special made Easter ‘nests’ they worked so hard on prior to the night before Easter. As immigrants traveled to the New World, their traditions often followed (well, technically speaking traditions can’t follow anything, but the immigrants would continue with their traditions even after leaving their home countries).
In the 1700’s the Pennsylvania-Dutch (German immigrants) would celebrate their traditional Easter; Bunny droppings and all. This eventually caught on and other American settlers jumped in on the bunny craze.
As with all historical traditions, the actual history is lost-but there will always be someone willing to find the meaning behind the, what seems to be, off-the-wall celebrations of well-meaning holidays.
So, friends, I leave you with yet another holiday mythological creature busted. There is no six-foot bunny in pastel clothing hopping through the forest depositing colorful eggs filled with chocolates in the homes of young children. Again, it is just a Pagan belief created into a Christian tradition in order to keep the masses at peace-for a time being anyway.
Enjoy the Easter season and try not to give into the commercialization of the religious belief-whether it is the Christian or the long forgotten Pagan belief.
Happy Easter!
By the way, does anyone know any Easter Bunny songs? By the end of my lunch hour I'm sure I'll find at least one.
‘Tis another season of fun-filled adventures with mythical creatures assigned to religious holidays.
The Easter season is just now upon us, what better to bring joy to the children of yours other than large quantities of chocolates in the shape of cute, cuddly bunnies and colorful eggs filled with sugar infused beans? And where, pray tell did these offerings of obesity making goodness come from? Why, where else than the giant hopping Bunny?
I ask, when did a religious holiday based on the resurrection of a dead man (who gave his life for all humanity…) involve a giant hopping Bunny with colorful eggs and chocolates shaped like his offspring? To simply answer: many, many years ago.
Let’s imagine a time before Christianity took over the lives of the thousands upon thousands of people. Imagine a time when people would get down on their knees upon witness of a solar eclipse-yet to them it was the dawning of a new age, a new god or goddess erected in the absence of the knowledge we have today; a story to tell sleepy children who would not let up on their parents with the wondering thoughts of the changing seasons.
Upon this, we will start our story within the Pagan community centuries before our time.
The beginning of Spring meant the awakening of Eastre: the goddess of fertility and new beginning. The winter season is now over and the seeds have been planted. The beginnings of life yet again burst from the once frozen ground. The timing was always perfect; just as the last snow flake falls, the sun will start to burst its radiant rays over the land. All is needed is the tender touch of the goddess to wake up the once sleeping world into a new day.
But, alas, there was one year that Eastre, frozen in her own slumber, failed to read the signs of the end of winter. Therefore, the winter season continued, yet the land, and creatures throughout, knew it to be spring. The birds tried to fly and the grass tried to grow, but Eastre, still in her slumber, had not awakened the warmth of a new spring day in order to allow creation to flow.
In a frenzy, Eastre awoke, only to find despair before her. A bird, trying to fly in the winter snow, lay with its wings frozen to the ground. Horribly heartbroken, this goddess of fertility would not allow the bird to die. Knowing that the bird would no longer live a happy life as a bird with two broken wings, she turned the bird into a winter hare, an animal as fertile as can be. Her compassion did not stop there; she gave the hare the power of speed, so he may out run any hunter and live for all eternity. In order to keep the hare close to its original roots, she gave him the ability to lay eggs, eggs as colorful as a perfect spring day (though of course the hare-and therefore previous bird-were both symbolized as being male. Male birds do not lay eggs. Was this really an ability the hare would want? Who am I to judge?). This hare could only lay these eggs upon the awakening of Eastre and the beginning of spring.
The hare, now a happy creation of spring, hopped about the land, laying his offerings for all to enjoy in the celebration of the rebirth of the lands.
But what has this to do with Easter? Upon the birth of Christianity, the Christians tried to make their religion look attractive to the Pagan’s by turning Pagan festivals into Christian holidays. The Pagan Eastre festival occurred around the same time the Christians marked the resurrection of the Christ Lord. Thus, melding the two celebrations in one-the Bunny and all. Of course, over time the Christians took over the celebration of the season, turning Eastre into Easter and the symbolism of the bunny (hare) into innocence and sacrificial offerings. Again, symbolizing the innocence of Christ and the ultimate sacrifice: his life for humanity.
The Easter Bunny we know today actually stemmed from the Germans (ah, the Germans, good at everything but coming up with a fool proof plan to take over the world). It was their tradition, in the early 1600’s, that on Easter morning, children would wake to find that the Easter Bunny left little pellets of goodies for them to either find throughout the house or in the special made Easter ‘nests’ they worked so hard on prior to the night before Easter. As immigrants traveled to the New World, their traditions often followed (well, technically speaking traditions can’t follow anything, but the immigrants would continue with their traditions even after leaving their home countries).
In the 1700’s the Pennsylvania-Dutch (German immigrants) would celebrate their traditional Easter; Bunny droppings and all. This eventually caught on and other American settlers jumped in on the bunny craze.
As with all historical traditions, the actual history is lost-but there will always be someone willing to find the meaning behind the, what seems to be, off-the-wall celebrations of well-meaning holidays.
So, friends, I leave you with yet another holiday mythological creature busted. There is no six-foot bunny in pastel clothing hopping through the forest depositing colorful eggs filled with chocolates in the homes of young children. Again, it is just a Pagan belief created into a Christian tradition in order to keep the masses at peace-for a time being anyway.
Enjoy the Easter season and try not to give into the commercialization of the religious belief-whether it is the Christian or the long forgotten Pagan belief.
Happy Easter!
Monday, March 1, 2010
Somebody's got the Monday Blues!
I think the saying is overrated. If I was in an OK mood but a little bummed coming back to work after an exciting weekend and someone came up to me and stated "Looks like some body's got the Monday Blues!" Would it be easier just to punch them in the face and be like-"What are you going to do about that punk? Huh? Don't have anything to say? What? What? What are you going to say now? Huh?" Ok, that would take it to the extreme (not to mention the fact that your boss will really think you are taking drugs no matter what you say and the cops will probably haul you off the premises-don't forget your lucky animals!!) But what do you say? Give a slight smile, turn and go back to your desk? Sigh a little-well, it is only 8am...shrug your shoulders and walk away? Personally, I take the middle ground-not so much freak out, but nonchalantly state how just because it is Monday morning and you had to be at work at 8am and woke up at 7:25, your hair is a bit disheveled and you can't remember if you brushed your teeth, you really aren't 'blue' just not quite right. Hey, it's Monday.
OK-tell me what you think: You walk into a dark movie theater knowing the movie has already started. You find it quite difficult to find an open seat, but try to make as little noise as possible. Crouched as low as possible as to not block the view of the 12 foot screen behind you, you frantically look for a seat. You find one at the top of the theater and throw yourself into it before you piss off anyone. You even decide to keep your coat on due to the fact you don't want to make any unnecessary noise while the beginning credits are rolling. To your dismay, you realize that there already is a disarmed coat laying on the back of your chair. Slightly confused, you grope for your own-yes, your coat is still embodied-who, pray tell, does this coat belong to? Then you hear a slight cough come from behind. There is a middle-aged man sitting directly behind you, and now upon closer inspection (and from the unbearable after shave smell coming from the collar of the coat)you realize this 'gentleman' has hung his coat on the chair in front of him. Ok, that's nice. But now I am occupying said chair. Would it not be the 'gentleman' thing to do to take the coat off the chair and hang it somewhere else-anywhere else? No. This is no gentleman, just a man who obviously has no upbringing into society. He is probably the little talked about brother who goes over your house uninvited, walking around your carpeted floor with wet shoes and puts his feet up on your brand new coffee table. I'm sure he also double-dips and takes a swig from your can of Coke.
Is it rude for me to continue to sit in the chair occupied by the coat of the man who finds it necessary to wear pungent smelling after shave? Or is it rude for the man to wear the aftershave in public? I mean, to leave his coat on the chair, knowing someone is now using it? It's not his chair. Did he pay for two tickets so he may use two chairs? Granted, I did not pay for one ticket, but still, I am an animate life form-the coat can not get up and walk away on its own (if that was the case I would not have taken the chair to begin with-I probably would have ran from the theater). I looked to my right and noticed an empty seat between the person I went to see the movie with and another movie patron. I was tempted to move seats, but then thought, No, I will not let this smelly bastard win this round. I will not move my seat, but enjoy this over-priced Hollywood creation. I tried to not let the coat bother me, which in the end it didn't. It was the man behind me that bothered me. The thought crossed my mind, more than once, to take the gum I was chewing out of my mouth and stick it in the arm of the coat so the man would ruin his $12.99 WalMart shirt. Then I thought-it wouldn't be the man that would be as upset as the wife sitting next to him that would have to try to remove the gum from the shirt. With the economy now, I can not let my anger win over, as others do not need to be affected by such trivial nuisances. So I took a deep breath and said to myself, at least I know I would not do that to someone.
The winner in the end-Me. I over came my anger by not doing anything and realized that I would not allow someone to be unhappy with me by doing the same thing. Therefore, let's all just be a little more conscientious of the people around us. You never know who they may be or what they may do.
That's all for today...
Ciao!
OK-tell me what you think: You walk into a dark movie theater knowing the movie has already started. You find it quite difficult to find an open seat, but try to make as little noise as possible. Crouched as low as possible as to not block the view of the 12 foot screen behind you, you frantically look for a seat. You find one at the top of the theater and throw yourself into it before you piss off anyone. You even decide to keep your coat on due to the fact you don't want to make any unnecessary noise while the beginning credits are rolling. To your dismay, you realize that there already is a disarmed coat laying on the back of your chair. Slightly confused, you grope for your own-yes, your coat is still embodied-who, pray tell, does this coat belong to? Then you hear a slight cough come from behind. There is a middle-aged man sitting directly behind you, and now upon closer inspection (and from the unbearable after shave smell coming from the collar of the coat)you realize this 'gentleman' has hung his coat on the chair in front of him. Ok, that's nice. But now I am occupying said chair. Would it not be the 'gentleman' thing to do to take the coat off the chair and hang it somewhere else-anywhere else? No. This is no gentleman, just a man who obviously has no upbringing into society. He is probably the little talked about brother who goes over your house uninvited, walking around your carpeted floor with wet shoes and puts his feet up on your brand new coffee table. I'm sure he also double-dips and takes a swig from your can of Coke.
Is it rude for me to continue to sit in the chair occupied by the coat of the man who finds it necessary to wear pungent smelling after shave? Or is it rude for the man to wear the aftershave in public? I mean, to leave his coat on the chair, knowing someone is now using it? It's not his chair. Did he pay for two tickets so he may use two chairs? Granted, I did not pay for one ticket, but still, I am an animate life form-the coat can not get up and walk away on its own (if that was the case I would not have taken the chair to begin with-I probably would have ran from the theater). I looked to my right and noticed an empty seat between the person I went to see the movie with and another movie patron. I was tempted to move seats, but then thought, No, I will not let this smelly bastard win this round. I will not move my seat, but enjoy this over-priced Hollywood creation. I tried to not let the coat bother me, which in the end it didn't. It was the man behind me that bothered me. The thought crossed my mind, more than once, to take the gum I was chewing out of my mouth and stick it in the arm of the coat so the man would ruin his $12.99 WalMart shirt. Then I thought-it wouldn't be the man that would be as upset as the wife sitting next to him that would have to try to remove the gum from the shirt. With the economy now, I can not let my anger win over, as others do not need to be affected by such trivial nuisances. So I took a deep breath and said to myself, at least I know I would not do that to someone.
The winner in the end-Me. I over came my anger by not doing anything and realized that I would not allow someone to be unhappy with me by doing the same thing. Therefore, let's all just be a little more conscientious of the people around us. You never know who they may be or what they may do.
That's all for today...
Ciao!
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