more f****d up dreams

Let's recap the dreams I've had lately, shall we?

A few nights ago, I was dreaming about the new house. Everything worked out and we were settling in nicely. Then I went to take a shower, turned the water on and got in, and all of a sudden noticed that there was a section above the shower where the paint was peeled back and there was a hole in the wall. These nasty fucking earwigs (if you don't have them where you live, be grateful) started creeping out of there like I had awakened them. I got out of the shower to get some bug spray, but when I came back, they were literally hundreds of them pouring down the wall. It was fucking gross and disturbing. I woke up at that point.

I also had a dream recently about this girl I used to know. (No, this one isn't sexual, because in real life I really don't like her anymore). My boyfriend told me he had talked to her ex boyfriend recently and forgot to tell me that she had committed suicide. I was surprised because no one I've met boasts about themself as much as she does and because she's a mother of a young child. What could've happened to her life? Her ex boyfriend didn't seem too surprised by it though, like it was something that everyone expected. It was fucked up. I was trying to find an explanation, but no one would come out and tell me, and it was too late anyway. Really depressing.

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Just a warning, this next one gets a little graphic.... but we're all adults here, right?
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The other dream I had was quite a bit more pleasant, or at least interesting, although strange. I was at some sort of nightclub with a lot of gold-ish decor. There was loud music playing, people dancing, and everyone was having a good time. Dancers were on the stage, grinding slowly to the music. I was getting drunk and felt sexy and powerful. I looked down and I was wearing a sheer black floor-length robe, heels and thigh high stockings attached to a garter belt. I don't remember what else, if anything, I had on. I settled into a chaise lounge type of chair and adjusted my stockings, slowly running my hands up my legs and letting my long dark hair fall into my face. My boyfriend and his coworkers wandered over, drinks in hand and visibly buzzed. He sat down next to me and we started making out, getting touchy feely and not caring who was watching. Our breath quickened and things became more heated. Without hesitating, I unzipped his trousers and found him hard as a rock against my hand. People around us were wooping it up, and we were putting on a show for them. All my inhibitions were gone, so I pushed him back onto the lounge chair and kneeled over him, sucking his cock while on all fours with my ass raised in the air. My lips and tongue worked around his shaft and I tried taking him as deep as I could, showing off for the crowd. He wasn't embarrassed, and sort of laughed, saying "See? I told you she was good." I lifted my head up for a moment and noticed that his boss was standing right next to us and was pulling on his own stiffened cock. It didn't bother us, and I smiled mischieviously, raising up on my knees to his level. I pulled him towards me by his belt, his erection poking out of the fly of his pants. With one quick movement, I had his entire cock in my mouth while I was being spanked by my boyfriend. I began alternating between the two until I was dizzy. It wasn't degrading, it was more a sense of confidence with being the center of attention. As you can imagine, it made for a sticky situation. (heheh)

I said they were fucked up dreams!

Monday night

Just when I was starting to think that maybe I've spent a bit too much time on the computer, and maybe I should perhaps move on to other forms of entertainment... Just when I was thinking of all the good movies to watch at any time on the DVR... Just when I decided to get back into "We Love Katamari" and was almost getting better at it... Our precious TV crapped out on us! Yeah, we've been TV junkies for a while now, so it's a disappointment. Ah, well I suppose the timing is just right. I need to get back into the swing of things and should be spending my time packing and cleaning anyway. But still... that's another expense we weren't expecting. Poop!

Reminds me of a quote from The Simpsons "The Shinning" episode:
"No TV and no beer make Homer... something something"
"Go crazy?"
"Don't mind if I do!"

Moving right along...

Ughh. Sorry about leaving that last (bad) post up so long. I think all the stuff going on has made me overly sensitive and crabby lately. But it's been a good, productive weekend and things are moving right along. There are boxes and bags all over the place and hopefully we'll be out of this apartment in less than a month. I need some sleep, but will post again soon. Hope everyone's doing well out there!

27 going on... 7?

Sometimes it's hard to tell you what I'm thinking. My mind's all a mess anyway. But even if I could figure out what I am and what I want to express, I can't picture anyone really understanding. I can't picture myself finding my group of people, like the bee girl in the "No Rain" video. I've been sort of associated with different groups before, but never felt like I really belonged. I guess that's why you've got to decide who you are and just put yourself out there without giving a fuck. I don't know how to act. I like to be alone, but I like attention too. I'd like to be interesting and not annoying. I don't think there is anything intriguing about me. People just assume they know me, that meek little doormat girl who you know wants to be your friend. Even though you don't really like her, you'll give her the time of day once in a while just to make you feel better about yourself. I don't know - I like sarcasm, I like abstract things, I like deep thoughts and poetry, I like people who make me stop and think and wonder. But I also sometimes wish that people wouldn't play these fucking characters. Just to be elusive and not let anyone get close to you or see that you have feelings. Maybe because when I was younger, I pretended to other people that things were fine when they weren't. Even though they probably knew anyway. And I wanted to be honest, but I wasn't allowed to. It would piss me off greatly when my mom had just gotten into a huge screaming argument with me or my brothers, but as soon as the phone rang she was all fake-cheery and laughing it up with her friends. I know there are reasons people do that, and it's usually to protect themselves, but sometimes I have to just stop sweeping stuff under the rug and pretending it's not there. Then again - I don't know, perhaps I would be a better, stronger, more respectable person if I didn't go around admitting my weaknesses and feelings?

Roll it up!

Have I mentioned that Katamari Damacy & We Love Katamari are just wonderfully trippy addictively fun games?! I'm not saying I'm good at playing, but it's enjoyable to watch too! (Ok, I'll admit it - I just can't deal with disappointing the King of All Cosmos if my katamari's not big enough - he's so harsh!) I'm listening to some of the songs off the soundtracks at work right now. Because really, who doesn't love Japanese video game music? Oh. Well, okay - maybe that's not the best description. You'll just have to give it a chance yourself! (Inebriation helpful, but not necessary for enjoyment.)

credit-shmedit

Hey! Here are some more reasons not to fuck up your credit if you still have the chance. When you do eventually get to a point in your life where it matters, the shit will come back to haunt you. Despite your know-it-all ex-boyfriend's insistence that phone bills won't count against you, and that you should put it in your name and not his, and your trust that he will help you pay it off after he orders a top of the line cordless phone, headset and answering machine from the goddamn phone company who you know charges up the ass for that, you will be the one responsible for it. Long after you've been broken up, changed residencies 3 times and years have passed. Yes, everyone makes stupid mistakes and does shit that their parents groaned about and told them not to, but when you get a little bit older and wiser, you'll realize "fuck! that was important!" as you are denied credit cards, loans, leases, etc. And these people don't want to hear another sob story about you being young and dumb and unemployed back then. Or about how you had a joint account at the video store and he told you he'd be sure to return those movies. They don't even want to hear about how responsible you try to be now or how you've gotten your life together. Suck it up and pay it off!

So, okay - you've got the money now, you've seen the marks on your credit report and you want to make amends. Is it too little, too late? Oh, no - it's never too late for them to take your money. But you would've been smart to pay off your original debt before it got turned over to a collection agency. Because you will have to pay them on their terms. Some of them try to make it as painless as possible, although just finding out if their company exists and is legit and has a telephone number is a feat of it's own. Once you call, they know they've got you where they want you. These are not real people, folks! Okay, perhaps they're real but they've been jaded by so many other dumbfucks like yourself that they could really give a shit less about you trying to clean up your bad credit and resort to reading their script like an automaton. The other tactic I love is that they will refer to themselves as Mr. or Mrs. - like you lowlifes better refer to them like you would a teacher or an adult with authority because regardless of age, you are not at their level. It's not Shaniqua, it's Ms. Brown to you! Ms. Brown doesn't want you to send a check but she will gladly take your account and routing number from your checking account, since you have proved yourself too stupid and untrustworthy to make the payments yourself. The money will be taken out on the day of the month that is most convenient... for them of course. Or you have option B - which I used with my one other debtor that I owed a very insignificant amount to. You can pay with a credit (ahem, ok - debit) card over the phone for the small "convenience" fee of $7.50. Sure, easy enough. Except for when you can barely understand this person who you are giving your important information to, and they can't understand you either. Four fucking times I repeated my card number before he read back the correct numbers that I gave him, and then he says "ok maam, now I'm gonna need you to read those numbers to me backwards" - oh come on, I think he was just fucking with me at that point! But you know, that's my punishment for not paying them for like, 5 years. So I've paid everything off at this point. One company did what they said and reported that it was paid. The other one tells me I have to pay another $7.50 "convenience" fee for them to send me something saying it's paid. Fine. Oh, but the computer can't generate that report right now, it'll take another week. So call back then. Yep. Exactly. That's what I get.
Grumble grumble.

Two Blogger B-days!

Did you know that it's both Lisa AND HemisphereDancer's birthday today?! What are the chances?! So if you haven't already, get to the well wishings!

In honor of our birthday Libras, here are a few horoscopes for them that I've come across today, take them as you will:

"You will try to alleviate the boredom you feel by making something creative with twine. Fortunately, it will work, but you'll need a lot of twine."

"Heavy weights can be a burden in the desert. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Unless you're talking about defecation..."

"Master the art of loving yourself -- cherish your imperfections and so will others."

Wow... and these were the better ones I found! Also, you two happen to share the same birthday as: Eminem, George Wendt and Norm MacDonald. Nifty, huh? Hope you both have wonderful birthdays, my dear friends! Cheers!

I'd make a good groupie

Like a lot of other people, there's a certain fascination I have with musicians, artists and writers. I'm not musically inclined myself, although I did uhh, used to sing but umm, err, *cough cough* don't do that so much now. The "group" I was in, in my freshman year of highschool is comparable to the "Getting Gay with Kids" joke on an episode of SouthPark. "We want to see teeth and smiles people, and don't forget the jazz hands!" But that's another story. As for any artistic talent, that's gone about as far as doodling for me. Writing, well - I'm working on that.

I can really appreciate the talents of others though, even though mine shadow in comparison. My boyfriend J (or as he sometimes likes to be called, Chubby Whites™) - happens to be ridiculously talented in all creative areas. (Yep, I'm gonna embarrass you honey) He plays acoustic and electric guitar, keyboards, piano, harmonica... and he writes songs and sings them well! I wish I could've seen him in his days of rockin the open mic night, but have been lucky enough to hear some private performances since we've been together. There's just something about a man and his guitar, so determined, pouring out his emotions, singing things like "she likes the taste of cum" (and no, that's not about me, even though there's nothing wrong with that). It just kinda makes your heart all fluttery. Plus he's an excellent artist, web designer, comedian and a friggin actor, too. Yep, he's just a disgustingly talented little bastard. But it works, as I am more inclined to be a fan than a performer.

Before him, I had a couple experiences with bass players, who are also pretty cool. They're alright with not being the frontman and they get that faraway detached look in their eyes that the ladies love. Very intriguing. Anyways, the point of the story is the song one bass player wrote for me. At least that's what he said. Who am I not to be flattered? It's in my girly nature. But get this, we had to listen to it on a tape in his car, and he wouldn't let me keep or copy the tape. All it was, was a couple minutes of a bass line. No words. No melody with a lead guitar, no drums, just the bass. I mean, bass is cool and all, but... alone, it doesn't really make a song. But it was the thought that counts, right? I can't remember, but I hope I didn't swoon and cry or something stupid that I probably would've done at that age. After all, he did blow me off for a 15 year old not too long after that. But yeah, he had a mohawk and a chain with a padlock around his neck, which he gave me the key to! No, that doesn't make him more cool? Well, that's ok - he didn't end up being that cool anyway. But we'll get to the story of my losing my virginity to him another time, perhaps. Anyone have a groupie story to share?

meh. bleh. feh.

I've been a worthless piece of crap lately at work, but somehow I don't think anyone will notice...
My head fucking hurts! Maybe it's the changing weather. I'm stuffed up, and whenever that happens, the whole right side of my head aches. The only thing that usually helps is drinking something hot or laying on my left side to ease the pressure. Lights are too bright, sounds are too loud, ack - all my senses get irritated. Ohhh, a nap would be so nice right now.
Shout out to the nice peeps who put up with me even though I may take a little while to write them back! It's always good to hear from you and get a little somethin-somethin in the old inbox.
Oh, and in regards to the house situation: it's still cool, I'm still excited, but I really hope neither of us gets electrocuted trying to fix anything in the future! I mean, I think that's only fun for a second before it would like, really really suck. Just a thought.


I would write more, but right now I can't focus. Blehhh!

more quizzes

I'll see your weirdness quiz....

You Are 20% Weird

Not enough to scare other people... But sometimes you scare yourself.

How Weird Are You?

....and raise you another quiz!

You Are 30% Boyish and 70% Girlish

Even if you're not a girl, you're very feminine. You're in touch with your feelings, and your heart rules you. A bit of a emotional roller coaster, one moment you're up and the next you're down. But no matter what, you try to be as cute and perky as possible.

How Boyish or Girlish Are You?

Mmmrrmph.

So sleepy. It occurred to me that perhaps I wouldn't be in such a shitty mood all the time if I just got the right amount of sleep. It's getting darker earlier and staying dark in the mornings now. Grrmmph. So hard to get out of bed. So cold. Need to hibernate. Sometimes the only thing that makes me feel better in the morning is to lay on my stomach with one hip cocked so I can press my aching abdomen into the softness of the bed. And then I really don't want to get up. Stupid female reproductive system. I can't believe how unsympathetic women can be about something that only affects women. It must be nice, you cramp-free, low-flowin bitches! But I digress...

I dream about cars, too

Okay, alright. You want to hear about my unsexual dreams? Would that be more appropriate?
So another recurring dream that I have, isn't so much that it's always the same dream, but there are some of the same things in the background. You know, things that just seem part of life in your dream, but are nothing spectacular? For example, I commonly have dreams lately in which I am about to go somewhere and have 3 cars to choose from. The great thing is, I like to have variety and all of the cars are in good shape so I can just pick whichever one fits my mood. One is my first car, the Honda - all unsmashed and brought back to life in just as good of shape as it was 10 years ago. Then there's my Mazda, which is the newest of the three and in the best shape, but I don't want to drive it much so I can keep it nice. Then there's a Chevy Beretta which I have never owned in real life, but I've thought about it and for some reason I like them. I think mostly because on really bad snowy, icy days I would watch to see what cars got around the best, and I saw a lot of Berettas that had no problem getting around. And they're just not that cool, but not that lame either. So in my dream, I'm just happy to have these choices. Just like to have the luxury of having different options, and not having to depend on just one car. Usually I end up taking my first car, even though there's no stereo or anything fancy about it, there's just a special bond there. Does that say something about my psyche? See, folks? I don't ask for much! Most people would want something expensive and sporty and brand new, where as I have a fondness for mid-priced cars with average expectations. I also seem to want to root for the underdog whenever I have choices. Not that I don't appreciate the faster and fancier choices... I'm just weird like that I guess.

Dreams that were almost cool, I guess

*I don't want you reading this if you know me in real life, or if you're easily offended by slightly suggestive material, but they're just fuckin dreams, people. It's really nothing, so please don't hold it against me.*


Granted, I've been pretty fucked up this weekend. And granted, things are changing in my life right now and there's a lot on my mind.
But the dreams I've been having lately - what the fuck? The other night, I had a dream that I was on the run with 2 women. One of them I loved, and the other one loved me, but everybody didn't love everybody else. We stole this big truck and went to some factory and pretended we worked there so we could steal some shit. I grabbed 2 cartons of cigarettes, a big box full of different Kellogg's cereals and a big jar of pickles. What that's all about, I have no idea. But as we were on our way out, we got caught and it really sucked so my mind kinda stepped in and said "this dream is stupid. I'm ending it now." So really, it wasn't that cool.
Then last night, I had this dream that I was driving around somewhere I didn't know. There were a bazillion different lakes in this town, and it was very quiet there. I went into this grocery store and ended up being held hostage there for a few hours. It wasn't so bad. To pass the time, I went to the hosiery aisle and tried on all the different thigh highs and stockings and modeled them for the other people who were stuck there. Then I just left and it was no big deal. I drove around this strange town for a while and then stopped at some weird old place with a windmill. This girl I used to know was there, I haven't seen her since it was popular to have huge bangs and use tons of hairspray. Our moms were friends and we used to play together. We used to tell each other our secrets and talk about the boys we liked. I asked her if she was still as boy-crazy as ever, and she told me no, that she had decided that she really knew all along that she was a lesbian. And that it was difficult and lonely for her, living in a small town in the middle of nowhere. And I was all comforting as I half-hugged her from the side. My head sort of rested on her shoulder and she smelled so nice and sweet. Before I knew it, my lips had attached themselves to her soft, warm neck and my hands were in her hair. Her mouth was small, soft and shiny with pink lipgloss and I lightly bit her lower lip as we kissed. But that's as far as it went, and then I felt bad and apologized. I was giving her my cell number and again, my brain stepped in and was like "ehh, that's it, time to wake up" and I did, confused....

Regressing & Depressing

It stinks in here like burnt coffee. I didn't make it or drink it, but I will try to clean out the sludge that was boiling on the bottom of the pot.
I'm tired of being told that I look tired. I am tired, and no amount of sleep would be enough to fix me. Maybe I just look like shit, and it's not that I'm tired at all. Maybe I need to take some iron supplements. Whatever.
Advice over here, advice over there. I just don't want to get screwed out of lots of money that I don't have. Everyone has their own ideas for other people's lives. It all looks so simple from the outside, when you don't have to live it. I don't know anything and I don't want to talk about it.
Sometimes you realize that nothing will ever be right, because you won't let it be. Something will always be missing, and it's all in my head. I tried to be happy for a little while, and it made me sad. Because it's really bad when something good happens to you and no one wants to hear about it. Or there's just no one to tell. When have they ever been happy for me? You people that I don't even know can be happier for me than people in real life, and that's sad. I don't have any girl friends or girlfriends, for that matter. I'm jealous. I want to live vicariously through others.
Sorry.

Spooky talk

So, you know I've been on the topic of getting a house lately and I don't want to bore you too much with that. So here's something everyone can identify with - have you ever felt the presence, or been spooked by previous owners of the home? Do you believe in the paranormal? I've heard lots of stories from people with older homes, who truly believe that they are haunted. I don't get that feeling about this home, and it was only built in the 60s, but still... can a house be haunted even if no one died there? Why do so many people tell me that the ghosts they see are children? I don't know much about this kind of stuff, and try to take it all with a grain of salt. It just seems like everyone has a ghost or paranormal story of some kind, so I'm putting the topic out there for discussion. Seems fitting with it being a chilly October day, too!

Time for a quote

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom"

-Anais Nin

On the road to home ownership...

Yeee-haa!

Either way, someone won't be happy

I kind of feel like I'm going to throw up, but other than that I appear to be not going completely crazy. That's usually the way it is, I will freak out about the little things and then when it comes to real things I feel oddly calm and detached...

No, wait - I am freaking out!

My mom didn't really need to remind me of what I need to worry about. Doesn't she know that's what I do, is worry? I can't remember her ever being really behind me in any decision I've ever made. Well, that is, on my own... if it was a decision she was involved in making then it was okay. You know, like "it's up to you, but..." and you know the only right choice is whatever it is they want you to choose. I know, people just generally want to influence me since I am so easily influenced, and they mean well mostly. At the same time though, it further promotes my feeling of being immature and helpless when they do that, and I let them. I know I'm to blame. I don't want to look back at my life years from now, and think of all the things I didn't just put my foot down and do, for me.

more later.

Another time

I know, I know - I just keep posting lyrics. But I keep getting these words stuck in my head, and my own thoughts are too scattered to put into my own words right now. There are things I wish I could write, things I wish I could tell you. Wish I was better at expressing myself, thank God for music.

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
But while you debate half empty or half full
It slowly rises, your love is gonna drown

"Get a leg up on the pile"

We've outgrown this place. Almost every day there's a reminder that we don't belong here, and it's just getting worse and worse. I'm hoping a change of scenery will also improve my general mood and way of life. I can't get my hopes up too much and jinx it, but it would be amazing if we ended up in a HOUSE in the very near future. I'm just imagining the things we'd say to each other, that you just don't hear until you're a homeowner, like:

"I think it's in the garage"
or
"I'll just do this load of laundry while we're waiting"
or
"I'm down here, in the basement!"
or
"Sure, you can stay with us, we've got room at our house"
or
"How are we gonna make our fucking mortgage payment this month?"

You know, stuff like that. Would we become like the people we work with, who look forward to the weekends solely to complete a DIY project? Would we say stuff like "equity" and "interest rates" and "Home Depot"? Eeeek! We'd almost sound like grown ups!

Check out this reference to mortgages on homestarrunner.com!

big meanies

Sometimes people say or write shit that is so mean and so deeply insulting, you don't even get mad. You don't even want to argue. It may just hit you the wrong way, and other times you wouldn't care. And you don't want to show that you do care, so you turn away so no one can look at you. But your heart has dropped into your stomach and given you that sick feeling, and there's this heat rising up the back of your neck.
And you'll think of an appropriate comeback, 2 days later when it doesn't matter anymore. That's just the nature of things.

Nonsense

My mind is in the clouds. I'm a dreamer. My hopes will build up so high, they are destined to fly away like a kite that's lost it's string, destined to get tangled in a live wire and burn to a crisp. And all I will have left is what I began with, a dream.
I'm still not sure what exactly it is, or what I would do if it came true. So I tried to stop thinking about it. I don't want to have to seek it out this time. It should happen naturally. It's this partially finished puzzle that's been sitting out for 10 years collecting dust. I keep trying to put the wrong pieces into place because I want them to fit so badly. But it'll never be finished. As many pieces as I take, I give as many away. My edges are frayed and worn from trying to fit where they don't belong. Perhaps I could learn how to take your shape, and find somewhere we could both fit into place.

different camera, same crazy look

Still not much of a photographer, as you can see.
My cat looks like she's posessed and has something to say!



I can't help but look like a deer in the freakin headlights. But eh, that's what I'll put up for now, until I can't stand it and take it down. Seriously, I freak myself out.

Random oddity

On my way home from work today, I was behind this early 90s red Buick. On the back window, neatly centered, was one lone bumper sticker. In a delicate white scripty font it read "I'm A Cock Sucker" - I had to smile.

Good songs for sad days part 2

Between the Bars - Elliott Smith

Drink up, baby, stay up all night
With the things you could do, you won't but you might
The potential you'll be that you'll never see
The promises you'll only make

Drink up with me now and forget all about
The pressure of days, do what I say
And I'll make you okay and drive them away
The images stuck in your head

People you've been before that you
Don't want around anymore
That push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still

Drink up, baby, look at the stars
I'll kiss you again, between the bars
Where I'm seeing you there, with your hands in the air
Waiting to finally be caught

Drink up one more time and I'll make you mine
Keep you apart, deep in my heart
Seperate from the rest, where I like you the best
And keep the things you forgot

People you've been before that you
Don't want around anymore
That push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still

Silly post #108

Ever embarrassed yourself not by saying the wrong thing, but saying the words incorrectly? There are some words that just make me giggle when they are mispronounced. I'm guilty of this too, sometimes the first time you see a word you just get it in your head how it would sound, and even after you're corrected, it's hard to forget. It wasn't that long ago that I said film noir as film no-eer or pronounced wanton as won-ton but hey, those are words I don't often use!

I always thought it was funny that when my dad says white, it's like he switches the w and the h around and says "hwite" - I don't know, maybe that's old school.

My favorite mispronunciation came from a lady I used to work with. She was known for this, or just using the wrong words. Like I don't know how many times when listening to the radio she said "Ooh, that's Jason Timbaland!" and I would say "Goddamnit, it's Justin Timberlake, I told you that 5 minutes ago!" But the best was when she was making a comment about having a big butt, and trying to say derriere but said "my big di-ah-ree-er" which just, you know, doesn't sound good.

Where it stops, nobody knows

Monday. Bleh. Work to be done and all that crap. Had stuff I wanted to write about, but that will have to wait a little bit.
So, Jim's gone (from It's Jim), and seems as if he's pretty sure he's not coming back. He will be missed. Did something awful happen, did something wonderful happen to make him do away with his entire blog? Will he change his mind? I don't know. I thought you people knew you couldn't leave the friendship/support group thing we have going on here! Okay, okay you can leave - we just like to know what's going on. Hope everybody is doing well.

By the way, the new Death Cab for Cutie album, "Plans" is pretty fucking cool man! It's good for that quiet, reflective, thoughtful, tears falling into your coffee kind of mood. In a good way.

"Say A Prayer for Texas"

I'll be thinking of those of my southern blogger friends, especially Blush and Dave. You're some wonderful folks and I hope you're all somewhere safe. If SayUnderpants isn't back from her cruise, I hope she's made it safely away from the danger.

You know I worry - it's my thing.

I love you people!

Boobs can't always be free

I had this idea that perhaps I should carry a spare bra around with me.

I've got plenty in my drawer that aren't getting much use. What can I say? You know, if something's on clearance and well, it's pretty close to my size....eh, it'll probably work. Or that's what I tell myself. I don't want to try it on - hell no! It looks like it'll fit, what, should I hold it up to myself and look in the mirror? Eh, fuck it, I'll buy it anyway because it's cute. And then it sits in my drawer and doesn't get worn, or it gets worn once and I either have a bad day of strap-adjusting or boob lifting, or I have trouble breathing, and it gets tossed back in the drawer. So why do I buy bras that might not be my size? Sometimes it's a matter of wishful thinking. I guess now, finally at the age of 27 I should accept the fact that my boobs probably aren't going to keep growing, ya know? I mean, they're a good handful, but my hands are pretty small. The other thing is that even though there are universal charts for measuring your bra size, all manufacturers seem to vary. I personally like the ones that run small, so I can buy the next cup size up, look at the cashier like yeah, that's right!

But anyways, why in the hell would I carry one of these spare uncomfortable bras around with me? Well, simple: there are women out there who desperately need them, and they might as well be put to good use. You know a woman's in a bad way if she's got nips the size of cocktail weenies that are just hanging out under an ill-fitting shirt. The kind that make you sort of grimace and try not to look like it's bothering you. It makes me sad. I don't think it's on purpose. Going bra-less in the summer, wearing a halter top or tank is one thing if you've got small boobs, but this just aint right. And twice at my new job, women have come in asking me for something or other with this problem. This goes along with another story I have about people off the street being drawn to me because I'm a target for the homeless/mentally ill/crackhead type (and as you remember - anyone selling anything). I'm really not the type that doesn't care about these people, and I'm not trying to be insensitive. Other people have told me to NOT give money or anything to these beggars, but since I'm not using these bras anyway... I could at least offer the ladies some uhh... support?

Good songs for sad days part 1

"A Lack Of Color" - Death Cab for Cutie

And when i see you
I really see you upside down
But my brain knows better
It picks you up and turns you around
Turns you around, turns you around

If you feel discouraged
That there's a lack of color here
Please don't worry, lover
It's really bursting at the seems
Absorbing everything
The spectrum's a to z

This is fact not fiction
For the first time in years
And all the girls in every girlie magazine
Can't make me feel any less alone
I'm reaching for the phone

To call at 7:03
and on your machine I slur a plea for you to come home
But i know it's too late
I should have given you a reason to stay
Given you a reason to stay [x3]

This is fact not fiction
For the first time in years

New cam - still getting the hang of it

"Misdemeanor" Muffers

Being blessed by the cat

Creepy laundry room

Skanks a plenty

So the other day this little boy came running up to me and said "Hey, hey lady! Do you have children?" and I was kind of like "No" like he should know that. But then I realized I'm the only one my age around here that doesn't have a little kid running around. Our building has become a popular place for some skanky baby-mommas and all they drama. What really pisses me off lately is when they sit outside on the front stoop (I can't even call it a front porch, it's not made to look inviting) ignoring their kids, being loud and blocking the entranceway. That's nice, so you can't just go about your business without having to cross these people. The newest neighbors have a little girl whom I've introduced myself to, but her "parents" are unlikely to give you a nod of recognition. I have no idea which baby daddy is which, but daaaang, these girls like some nasty dudes. Here's some examples of baby daddy requirements:

• must have truck that needs to be worked on and makes a lot of noise
• must get into verbal arguments in the parking lot about visitation rights
• must be shirtless or wear sleeveless shirts and baseball hats
  
• must have at least 3 creepy friends to come along when visiting the baby momma
• must be at least partially redneck or whiteboy-thug

So, just another example of apartment life at it's finest!
I don't want to get paranoid, but that's what I do. I keep smelling something weird that's like the chemicals in a perm or sulfur. I can't figure out if it's just our nasty water or our nasty neighbors.

My 100th post = ehh, same old stuff...

Alright. Here's a recap of the blog so far, in case you're new around here and didn't catch season one of Nervous Thoughts. I went back and reviewed my archives to give you an example of the types of posts on this blog:

• 21% personal stories/memories/dreams

• 19% pictures

• 16% attempts at humor

• 14% nonsense
  

• 13% observations

• 8% depressed stuff

• 8% work stories
  

Yep, I nerded out like that. But I'm not making a pie chart.

Here's something cute to look at, though - the red panda! It's about time to start working in some of these zoo pictures from 2 years ago.

Almost

Do you ever have dreams that start out as uninhibited and incredibly hot, then twist into something completely lame? Well, it's quite frustrating. Or do you ever end up being rejected in your dreams? How bad is that, when you're rejected in your own fantasies? It happens to me sometimes, but that is probably because I am messed up and even my subconscious knows that.
It's always the leading up to it that's the exciting part, but then before anything happens something ruins it or it morphs into another dream.

This can't be right

Your Seduction Style: Sex Pot

Tradionally known as a "siren", "rake", or "femme fatale." You exude sensuality. And while your sexiness is part of what makes you an incredible seducer... Your ability to make others feel sexy is what really makes your seduction skills shine. Most people don't feel attractive or desired enough - a need which you tap into. You have the ultimate sex appeal, and getting attention from you is a total self esteem boost. Your confidence is contagious, and you help others unleash their own sexuality. Your sex pot seduction skills are so intoxicating that you can get away with... well, almost murder. Lovers feel like your sensuality is in your blood, so it's only natural if you flirt a little. And if you stray, that might be okay as well - as long as you make your lover still feel hot.

What Kind of Seducer Are You?

Bad Combination

Me
+
alone
+
hormonal
+
fucked up already
=
bad blog post

Oh, and I have no idea what I'm doing with PhotoShop.
And yes, this picture is very unflattering.
Nope, the new camera didn't show up.
Damn.

Getting closer

I've been tracking my online purchase and I'm thinking it might even arrive today! I rarely buy myself anything really nice, (which, in my case this is more than I would normally spend) so I hope that it's worth it. Anyone out there have this camera? Reviews?


So you know what that means! I'll be posting more pics soon. Of what, I do not know yet...

Not too surprised

Your Inner Child Is Scared

Like a kid, you tend to shy away from new experiences. You prefer what's tried and true - novelty is scary! New foods, new places, and new friends are difficult for you to deal with. Some say you're predictable, but you enjoy being comfortable.

How Is Your Inner Child?

I'm not normally big on taking quizzes, but this one kinda goes with the territory. Let me know what you get if you take it.
I'll be hiding under the covers.

The rain and the brain

Does anyone else get the sinus pressure headaches, especially when it rains? Barometric pressure and whatnot. Yesterday, the whole right side of my head hurt and was stuffed up, and now it's aching and stuffy on the left side.
So, a sort of related story. I was reading about a claim today in which the doctor made an incision in the right side of the patient's brain before he realized it was supposed to be the left side. I can just picture the surgeon in the operating room, though. "Now when you say left side, do you mean my left or his left?"

Skin Care

So, last night we were at Target (by the way, I found this blog dedicated to being obsessed with Target - how cool!) and I was seriously considering some new face care products. Yes, I realize this may be pretty boring to the guys out there, or anyone for that matter. Bear with me.

I've never had an actual facial. I write this and chuckle. Shut up, you know what I mean. Speaking of which, I am SO glad that the time my mom was over and we were looking for a picture on my guy's computer, she didn't ask what the folder titled "facial" was for. Heyyy-O!

Alright, out of the gutter. So it seems like lately the big hubub is all alpha-hydroxy this and microdermabrasion that. I am getting older, and I don't know where to start. Those microdermabrasion kits are kinda expensive and look like an Acuvibe for your face. They come with some exfoliating scrub and some sponge applicators that you put on the vibrator thingy and then go to town on your face. They claim to take about 10 years off. I saw a makeover show recently where someone had this professionally done, and it is really like they just sand off a layer of your face. It did give that person a nice healthy glow, but damn. Don't forget that I'm cheap. I already have lots of half used skin care products that didn't do much of what they said. Would it just be the same if I used some gritty face scrub and scrubbed really hard? Or if I just used some sandpaper? I'm not ruining a perfectly good vibrator with that stuff though.

Speaking of skincare, don't you love that commercial for ProActiv with Jessica Simpson? "In my videos, they had to go in and digitally *fix* my face" but it sounds like that quote was digitally *fixed*. And I love it when she does that pouty little girl look and says "my skin needed to be disciplined." Fuckin...Anyway.

Speaking of skincare and masturbation... At one of my old jobs, I had a couple crazy older ladies ask me how I took care of my skin. (Not even MaryKay reps either this time!) Uhh... I take birth control pills and use a gentle foaming cleanser? Well then one of them wanted to write down what products I use and what makeup I wear and all that. The other lady (on a separate occasion) told me that washing your face is the worst thing you can do for it. So she would just smear her face with vaseline instead. I didn't take her suggestion. She said another thing that was good to use is a Waterpik with really cold water blasting on your face. She then tells me the Waterpik is also good for personal pleasure when her husband's not around, wink wink. And yes, this was all at the drive-thru window. I was repeating this story later to my boyfriend and mixing up the details and told him "this old lady told me to masturbate with an icepik!" A look of horror came over his face and I realized what I had said. Oops.
Well anyway, I didn't buy one of those sanding kits. Sweet, tired, wanting-to-get-the-hell-out-of-Target boyfriend said "all you need to do to look 10 years younger is to smile" Aww.

Mom said a bad word!

When I was growing up, I never heard my mom swear. She was the type that would say in a moment of frustration "Oh, dang!" or "Geez!" and would even give us the evil eye if we said "Oh my GOD" as that was taking the Lord's name in vain, and we better not have dared to say "Goddamnit." She still holds a grudge against Eddie Murphy because she somehow saw a comedy special of his in the 80s where "every other word was the F-word".
So nowadays, I think it's hilarious to hear my mom swear. It's sort of like she tried to shelter me so much that I feel like sheltering her now, like she doesn't know that these words even exist. But she's come around quite a bit and will allow herself to occasionally say "shit" or "bitch" and has even been known (in rare circumstances) to drop the f-bomb - in a hushed voice of course.
Now my guy on the other hand, grew up in a family where swearing was okay. One of my favorite stories was about how when he was in elementary school, his mom got a call from the principal because her son had said "fuck". As it was more common at the time, they were going to give him some sort of corporal punishment. I don't know if it was with a paddle or what. But they called his mom first, who responded with "you're not going to lay a fucking finger on my kid!" and came to pick him up. Yay mom! Fuckin A!
Still, even now I cringe if he happens to swear or say anything inappropriate in front of my mom. His humor is great, I love it, and it's never anything directed at her or said in anger, but... I nearly died when he was telling her about the show Deadwood and how they say "cocksucker" all the time. The word cocksucker came up about 5 times in that conversation and led me to give him a fierce elbowing when she wasn't looking. But my mom laughed and everything, so maybe it's okay as long as he's saying it and not me. Maybe he's trying to test her. The other day she was commenting on a restaurant that was called BD's grill or something and she said she wondered what the BD stood for. He says "I'm guessing it's not bondage & discipline" which was funny but again, I wanted to be swallowed up into the ground. She laughed though. I guess now I'm the prude.

Bitter Restaurant Banter

How long are you willing to wait for a table at a restaurant?
Yeah, I guess it depends on how much you want to eat there, like if you know it's going to be awesome and worth it, I guess I can see waiting for it.
We don't live in that small of a town, but not that large of one either. It appears that we have a decent amount and variety of restaurants in the area. But trying to go out on a Friday night is ridiculous. No one takes reservations and everywhere is packed. But still, we were in good spirits and felt like going out.
So we tried for probably the 5th time in the last couple years to go to the stupid Outback Steakhouse. Every time we go, there's a helluva long wait, people are lined up outside and shit. We figured it must be pretty good, considering it's always packed. This time there was a 20 minute wait, and we found that reasonable. We sat at the bar and observed the hokey boomerangs and koala bears stapled to the walls. He got an overpriced beer. It probably ended up being about a half hour before they set off our little pager thing to let us know we had a table. Then we go up to the hostess stand and the two hostesses are doing nothing but singing along with the music and are like "oh yeah, you're table's being bussed it'll just be a few more minutes" which is sort of like, why did you call us up here then, bitches? But anyways. They finally take us to one of those crap tables that has an uncomfortable chair on one side and a backless bench on the other. Fine. We're both quite hungry and start perusing our menus. After just a minute, he looks at me and says "I don't know about you, but I don't think I want to eat here." I figure he's overreacting, and we can find something but when I look at it - he's right. There are some really lame ass choices and WAY overpriced for what you get. Your choices are a steak for $12.99, a different steak for $15.99, another steak for $17.99 and some other lame crap like fettucine alfredo disguised under some aussie name. Wow, how authentico! No sandwich options either, all overpriced entrees. Yeah, we might sound cheap and in some ways we are, but you just get the sense of how much chain restaurant food is really worth and can't bring yourself to pay that much for food you could make better yourself and not have to be in a craptacular environment. So he finished his beer and we told the waiter we were leaving. He didn't seem surprised at all like this must happen a lot. I guess it just wasn't meant to be.
Unfortunately, we went to 2 other restaurants that had 35-45 minute waits before finally going somewhere that we could actually get a table.
I don't even expect that much out of restaurants, but damnit, there's another one to cross off the list!

Overanalyzing a fortune cookie

Our most recent chinese food experience left us with this fortune to ponder:

You have tasted the bitterness as well as the sweetness of coffee

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but this doesn't really even qualify as a fortune, now does it? I am not enlightened. It has not predicted or suggested anything. It's just like "yep, here's a random statement".
It's not even any better if you attach "in bed" to the end. It would be more deep and vague if they just left off the "of coffee" don't you think?
This makes me wonder if perhaps the guy making up the fortunes was having a rough morning reaching his quota. Not much sleep the night before, boss was on his ass to make a deadline. Maybe someone came up and asked if they could get him anything, and he said "a cup of coffee" and then later realized "oh shit... not again! I gotta start proofreading these damn things! No more talking while typing for me!"

Or are they saying there was bittersweet coffee in our chinese food?

Retro-pervy

Here's a song that I remember from the 80s and always liked, but if you listen to the lyrics it sounds like a pervy old man trying to get some hot teenage poontang... at least he's trying to be romantic about it though. I can understand it and all, it just makes me wonder where all the sugar daddies were when I was 16? Oh, I'm kidding.

"Into the Night (If I Could Fly)" Benny Mardones
She's just sixteen years old
Leave her alone, they say
Separated by fools
Who don't know what love is yet
But I want you to know
If I could fly
I'd pick you up
I'd take you into the night
And show you a love
Like you've never seen, ever seen

It's like having a dream
Where nobody has a heart
It's like having it all
And watching it fall apart
And I would wait till the end
Of time for you
And do it again, it's true
I can't measure my love
There's nothing to compare it to
But I want you to know
If I could fly
I'd pick you up
I'd take you into the night
And show you a love
Like you've never seen, ever seen...

A "Blog-Con" in my mind

What if we had some big blogger convention? I know, I'm a dork. I can just picture us all in some big convention center with our little "Hi, my name is" stickers on, with our blogger profile names. So I'd be like "Oh, look over there! It's SayUnderpants, awesome!" and she'd be like "but I have a real name, and you already know it" but I'd still want to call people by their blogger names. I'd try to hug all of you people that I read and comment back and forth with because I love you in a non-creepy way! It would be so cool. Or I would just be a wallflower, I don't know. I hope you'd talk to me...
I'd find out where Dave and Dwight were hanging out cause that's where the laughter and goodies would be. Yossarian would be nowhere to be found and people would be asking about him. "Oh, I thought I saw him with XTX... no maybe he's with Blush... no, maybe they're all together and they didn't invite the rest of us!" Damn!
And of course I'd want to hang out with Lovely Lisa who I'm probably closest in geographical location to, plus we could giggle and talk about boys and music and stuff.
There would be plenty of booze and smoke and snacks and music and all that good stuff. But then maybe we wouldn't want to blog about it afterward because the mystery would be revealed and it wouldn't be the same. Then again it's just a crazy idea that I am imagining because I don't have a lot of friends in real life. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker, just a dork.

But yeah, it would be sweet. Mingle! Make awkward comments! Talk amongst yourselves!

*if I didn't mention your blog, don't be offended - it's not that I don't think you're wonderful too, it's just I either don't know you as well, I don't know what to say, or I'm trying not to embarrass myself further...

ill communication

I'm a procrastinator. I don't know exactly how long I've been like this, but somewhere along the line it got out of hand. And of course, instead of really doing something about it, I'm going to blog about it!

But, do you know how it is? When you haven't talked to someone in sooo long and you just don't know where to start? Are they going to be happy to hear from you or is it too late to make up for lost time? They're still there in your mind, you think about them quite a bit more than they think you do. You want to call, you want to write, but... you just put it off a little longer.

With me, this usually refers to family members. I know, staying in touch with the family is a good and responsible thing to do. Our family has a bit of a problem with communication though. I think that can be okay, as long as everyone accepts it. Like some families I know don't spend a lot of time on the phone with each other and only see each other every few months, but everyone's okay with that. In my case, it pisses people off and hurts their feelings. But you don't know my family! My older brothers have been known to take off without a trace for months at a time, but it's not okay for me. It's too much to explain here, but we're big on the guilt trips and not coming out and expressing our feelings. So, for example if my brothers and I haven't talked for a while, my mom starts nagging me to call them or my dad tries getting them to call me or write me. (For the record, I was almost always the one to take the lead in communication with my brothers, eventually I just got tired of it.)My mom will bug me about talking to my dad on a regular basis, and my dad in turn tells me to spend more time with my mom - even though these two have been divorced for nearly 20 years! They mean well, most of the time.

Sometimes I still find myself avoiding them. As awful as it is, and as guilty as it makes me feel, I know I should just let it go and call. The damn Catholic guilt gets me. I know there are a lot of dysfunctional families worse than mine and I should be grateful that they do want to keep in touch with me, and that I even have parents. But sometimes there's really nothing going on in my life that I care to tell them about. Things that make me happy do not usually make them happy for me. They also have heard for years about my depression and anxiety and while they try to understand, they still make me feel at times like it's my fault and I should just brush it off. I still get preached to and given strong suggestions and comments that make me feel as if they are terribly disappointed in me, although I'm really doing better than I had been over the last few years. It's still not what they wanted, and it's never enough. So why would I want to walk right into that situation if I don't have to?

I know, I've gotta stop being a coward and just deal with it. I've got to speak up for myself instead of taking all the hurt and shame and anger upon myself. So umm, maybe I'll do that tomorrow.

Memories from a childhood picture

1. The dining room and part of the kitchen had that "trippy if you stare at it too long" wallpaper pattern. I think it's called houndstooth. That's one of those words that usually refers to a pattern on clothing, yet it just doesn't sound quite right. Like herringbone.
   
2. Look at that! A double decker cage, pretty pimped out in there with that wheel and.... umm.... a tube, and... well, what more do they need? Those were my brother's gerbils, named Bernard & Bianca. Let's not talk about Bernard's demise. Let's not.
   
3. I know you're jealous of my badass pink velour pantsuit.
   
4. Dad's record cabinet, a few that I remember are The Beatles' first album, The Rolling Stones first album, Donovan, The Ventures and The Four Seasons.
   
5. Back in the day, you'd be in big trouble if you messed with the record player.
6. It's hard to see, but that's our infamous green shag carpet, which covered a good portion of the house. This was the kind of shag carpet that requires a carpet rake. Seriously, a carpet rake. Fluff it up for company, you know.

Bahhhh Tuesday

I don't know about today. Maybe it's the back to work after a long weekend blues. Maybe it's that I didn't get much sleep last night. Maybe I just want to laze about some more while not dealing with real life. I feel like I'm on the verge of a very bad mood. That doesn't do anyone any good, so I better just snap out of it!
I'm a brunette now. I don't know if it suits me, but I just wanted to take a break from my usual red. Brown always looks too dark at first, but hopefully it's not too freaky. My guy did a very nice job as he always does. He makes sure he gets it even, doesn't drip it in my eyes and is careful about not pulling too much. Very sweet and patient. I hope he knows how much I appreciate it.
I'm trying to work on some posts, really! I feel bad for not keeping up with my writing, but then again you all don't need to be reading pages and pages of blah-de-blah like this. Sometimes I just don't have much to say that makes any sense. Bear with me, I'm cleaning out the cobwebs.

I won't even say it

Dreamweaver

Are you too into blogging if you dream about blogging and other bloggers?

It's just kinda funny cause I build you people up in my mind like you're celebrities - well, in the way that I try to imagine what you're like in real life but there's a very slim chance of really knowing. So you're almost at the same imaginary level. Well anyways, last night I had a dream that I met HemisphereDancer and he was so nice! Oh shush, we just talked! I think we were both heading down South to help rescue people. He didn't have an accent, I don't know if he really does but I was all talking like I was from the U.P. like "oh yaah, doncha know" even though I don't really talk like that unless I'm imitating someone. Anyways, it was pretty cool. There have been other dreams about more of you out there.... I will try to write something about them when they happen so you can be embarrassed too! Yay!

Two glass eyes

Today I was all like "heyyyy, I like that shirrrrt"
And he was all "yeah? aw, well it's good for going out in, but not good for work - glad I don't have to see any clients today"
And I was all "naw, it's cool, it's cool"
and he was all shaking his head
Then a couple hours later, I'm all "no really, I really like that shirt, man" and proceed to stare at the chest hair that is peeking out the top and he probably sees me staring cause I think I'm less obvious than I am
But is chest hair like something you're supposed to politely avert your eyes from?
Then I thought about what he must think of how I dress for work if he considered himself dressed down.
And then I felt bad.

And.... this story isn't even related to how this morning I thought I had a detached retina!
Crazy stuff.
Bad, bad eyes.

Everybody poops

My sinuses are burning. Get me out of here.
Have you experienced this? Maybe you're lucky enough that your office isn't located right across from the damn bathroom. I understand that when you gotta go, you gotta go, but damnit people! It's like you purposely wait to shit until you get to work! There's a pack of matches on the back of the toilet that someone keeps lighting when they're in there. Great, so then the place smells like shit on fire. I can only hope for some small explosion to occur. Then there's the air freshener. You notice that whatever air freshener is in the bathroom for an extended period of time, no matter how good it smelled at first - after multiple uses it becomes revolting? It's bad enough that the wildebeest craps in there 3 times a day, but if only it were easier to ignore. Even if I keep my office door closed, the smell comes blowing through the air vents. Permeating my lungs, my nostrils, my eyes. I had a perfectly good breakfast bar that I now do not want to eat. I will also note that the air freshener of choice in there is a spray that I swear is a combination of curry, original Listerine, old man aftershave and cloves. And you can just imagine how great that is combined with you know, crap.

Maybe I'll just...

A note to the FedEx guys...

A good way to start a conversation with the meek-looking girl at the front desk would be to not repeatedly comment "Aww, they left you here all alone" and "So you're here all by yourself right?" while getting closer and looking shifty.
Every time someone says that it makes me cringe.

Come to think of it, it's not just FedEx guys, it's also the phone company guys and door to door solicitors - can't forget them! The UPS guys are always very polite though. I'm tight with the mailman too, he's cool.
I'm just a little paranoid.
Good thing I've got an itchy trigger finger and nothing to lose...
just kidding.

Marketing Madness

I had to mention the latest hair product I've tried - Herbal Essences Citrus Lift Let Loose Detangling Spray. I've been impressed with the results and yeah, it smells nice and citruslike...but that's not the point. I find their instuctions amusing.
Directions: Spray lusciously all over your damp or dry hair.
How do you spray lusciously? I mean, I try to be as luscious with the spray as possible, but what am I supposed to do, make the "O" face? Also note that your bathroom floor will become lusciously smooth as well, as in slippery as fuck! Be careful!

Can't Hang

Have you heard this song yet? I mean, it's been out for a while now. But if you can appreciate rap parody humor and iTunes, please check it out. You know Dr. Dre must've laughed his ass off, or at least I hope so. Plus, Ben Folds is some good stuff.

I think I need to drink more. Or just get better at drinking. I don't like beer, not just 'cause I'm a girly-girl but it gives me the shudders and makes my kidneys hurt. My drink has become a vodka & cranberry juice, sometimes with flavored vodka. The one I got the other night was cranberry juice with a shot of rubbing alcohol. And the waitress corrected me "oh, a vodka-cran?" yeah, that's a snazzy little abbreviation there lady. Kind of like when my mom made us crack up by saying "I'll have a glass of zin" because she's just so hip. I don't say that sarcastically, my mom goes out with her cool single friends more than I do. Gotta love it.

Anyways, unlike most people I know, I'm pretty much a wuss when it comes to drinking. BUT more than one person can vouch for the fact that in my prime, I was the shmoke-dawwwg. Roll up another doober! Puff puff pass! Oh, but that's not okay with a lot of people or you know, society. Back to the drinking. You would think that someone with a history of alcoholism in their family would be able to throw back a few and not even feel it, but I'm such a lightweight. I have so little knowledge with the subject too. So when I go out sometimes I forget that I'm way past legal drinking age. I'm the dork ordering a diet coke.

I wonder if alcohol just affects me differently than other people. Like I can feel this burning sensation running through the veins in my arms, then my arms feel really heavy. I think it depends on the kind of alcohol too. Sometimes I can feel it travelling through my body and it feels like poison, burning everything along it's path. It used to hurt my lower back, but that doesn't happen so much anymore. Maybe my liver is crap. Once in a while I get that hazy feeling that other people enjoy while drinking. I can get a little lovey-dovey but usually I'm just as shy as before. I can't pass things off as "oh, I just said that cause I was really wasted"...but I'd like to! I'd like to enjoy it and be carefree. My boyfriend and I have been together for over 5 years and he's still hoping to one day see me totally wasted. The closest we've gotten was one time when I said I'd drive us home in his car, and then proceeded to smash my face into the door frame as I was getting in. The impact was directly to my browbone and it hurt like a mofo. He thought I was just fucking around not unlocking the other door for him and came around to see why I was simultaneously crying and laughing like a maniac. I pulled my hand away from my eye and there was blood on my hand as well as running down my face. He was a little shocked and immediately went into his sweet helpful boyfriend mode. (As he has often had to do, since I can be slightly accident-prone). I looked in the mirror and laughed some more, getting blood and mascara in my eye. If that wasn't a sign from God that I shouldn't have been thinking about driving, I don't know what is! He sobered up quickly, found me some paper towel to put on my face and drove us home. I'm not that proud of that story but of course had to tell it many a time as my face healed.
But the really lame part? I had had ONE drink. ONE! Yes, it was on an empty stomach and yes they had given me the nice Grey Goose vodka, but still!
Then again, I am a clutz and could very well have done the same thing without any inebriation.

You know what August 24th means?

Go go go go....I'm a shortie and it's my birfday.

I've got the day off of work, which is pretty cool. There are things I need to accomplish though.

• sleep in (accomplished)
  
• have lunch with mom
• go to the secretary of state (or DMV as you may call it in your state) and give those fuckers way too much money to get my vehicle registration renewed
• prepare for upcoming apartment inspection (ie: hide unmentionables, clean up dirty dishes/laundry); get pissed that they even do this inspection shit every year
• blog/email
• become inebriated in one way or another
• ????
  

We'll see how I do!

I fear change...

Alright, so we're trying to quit smoking. By "we" I mean, my boyfriend hasn't had a smoke since Saturday, decided to get the patches and I'm very proud of him. Then there's me. Granted I didn't smoke as much to begin with, but I haven't completely quit. So I didn't really want to tell people like "Hey! Yay for me, I'm quitting smoking...pretty much" and have them tell me I suck and that doesn't count. But it's been on my mind, so I decided to share. I think I'm doing okay so far. I would normally smoke between 10-15 cigarettes a day and now I'm down to 4 or 5. I know I might be dragging this out longer, but then according to research it's better for women to quit at a certain time during their cycle, that I don't think I'm in right now. Shut up, it's true! I also haven't bought any more of my usual brand, so the smokes I do have are lighter and less enjoyable. So we're eating a lot of snacks, but getting out of the house more too. The bad thing is, I was big on snacks anyway. I'm a bad influence. I'm normally not one to think one should deprive themselves of things they enjoy. I'm an enabler. I do want to be supportive though, it's the right thing to do. He's handling it really well so far and hasn't gotten mad when I breakdown and go outside to smoke, but I feel guilty about it anyway.
We'll see how it goes. I do like the idea of having more money to spare, not having my hair get stinky, and all the medical reasons too. It's been 9 years and I've never REALLY tried to quit. I should have more faith in myself, cause even though I'm terribly easily addictable, there's also part of my personality that naturally wants to punish myself and deprive myself of things. Fucked up, I know - but it all works out I guess.

Nap dreams are lame

You know what happens when I take a nap with my contacts still on?
I usually wake up feeling like shit.
I have fucked up dreams. This afternoon's dream was that I somehow got to meet Adam Sessler of G4. I was all excited and jumped up to give him a hug. I was being complimentary and flirty almost. All up on him and stuff. He was quite gracious. Then I made the mistake of getting curious about his PSP (not a sexual innuendo - playstation portable) and he literally slapped my hand away. He said he couldn't risk getting my dirty little fingers on the screen and was a real dick about it. It made me sad and embarrassed. The end.
Oh, but back to the sleeping with my contacts in - does this happen to anyone else? I mean, I'll pass out with them on, and then when I wake up I'll feel dizzy and like I'm going to throw up. I also will not have a very restful nap. I wonder if somehow the contacts interfere with the REM and that's why I feel all shitty when I wake up. But I don't know. Just a thought.
Oh, and it also feels great to wake up feeling like there's bunched up plastic wrap stuck to your eyeballs. Or some old fruit roll-ups.
Yeah, I gotta stop passing out like that.

Kung Fu Hustle. Do it.

Yeah, we're not big on movie theaters so we got the DVD of "Kung Fu Hustle" yesterday. That's some crazy shit, maaan! It's all over the place! Still not sure if I like it better than the slightly more lighthearted "Shaolin Soccer" - but they're both good. If nothing else, it took my mind off things for a while. They totally got extra points with us for having a small part with this girl that was the Chinese version of Parker Posey.
Oh, and if you watch either of these, I'd strongly recommend the subtitles and not the dubbed versions.
I didn't do laundry last night, so I had a limited selection of things to wear today. I've got this short sleeved green and white striped, button down blouse on that makes me look like I could be the night manager at Long John Silver's. I'm a dork.
I'll try to think of something more to say. It seems as if writer's block is going around. I hope y'all know I love ya though.

It's everything, yet nothing really....

I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling.
Today I woke up, feeling okay. Just a little sleepy but no big complaints. The morning went by fast, I was chipper and got things done at work. I was even sociable with people. I felt like one of those girls that I usually don't like who's all perky and talkative. Things seemed good. I'm such a better person at those times. Like if I went home at that point, I would probably get a lot accomplished there too. I can get on a roll and not mind the cleaning or doing the laundry. I can keep myself busy. I can have conversations with people and they actually smile at me instead of looking confused. I can feel good about myself and the tiny accomplishments I make. I can laugh at things and not take them too seriously.

But then...a few hours later...

I don't know what happened. Really it wasn't anything important. Just a few little things that I will overanalyze and take as being negative. Suddenly I am back to being the biggest fucking loser around, I have no purpose on this earth, and people suck and don't understand. I suck at this job but will never find anything better. I want to crawl under my desk and cry, or if I'm at home - bury my head in a pillow and cry. People close to me will ask what's wrong, and really I don't know. I didn't think I looked like anything was wrong but my emotions are so obvious when you look at me. All I can think about is how fucked up I am and how I deserve to be punished for it. I didn't follow the right path and now I'm getting fucking old and I'm missing my "best years." I've been saying that I'm wasting my "best years" for years now. I deserve to suffer because I'm a little crybaby who still hasn't grown up. No one likes people who can't control their emotions. It's just something you're not supposed to tell other people. You don't want to be one of those people who drags everyone else down with them. Fuck, now I'm crying. See? This is ridiculous. It's not even PMS. I know the "regular" me is in there somewhere, I just can't reach her. I've worked so hard to get back to normal, but I still slip back into this. I just can't stop telling myself horrible things. I hate being this way. I avoid my family, or I avoid leaving the house because I just can't even face the world out there. I can't make myself smile. I don't want to try to explain it to the millionth person who doesn't get it. I'm as sick of being this way as they are sick of hearing about it. I feel like slamming my face into the mirror until it breaks. But really I won't. It will pass. I know it will. I shouldn't have even written this, but I had to get it out. I hope you'll understand that it's just a part of me and doesn't represent everything I am, or everything I could be.

Beavers and bad puns

Remember that beaver from some of the older Disney movies?


I think of him every time the older guy in the office next door comes around because I can hear that as he talks, he whistles through his teeth. So all I hear is "shhht" or "chttt" or you know, however you spell whistling through teeth sounds. He's a sweet old man though, just sometimes I'm not sure how "with it" he is.
He popped his head into my office this morning and said "Hi Jeshica, are you behaving yourshelf?" which was like, almost funny the first 6 times he's said that to me. I usually laugh and say "Oh, I'm trying..." or something like that.
Oh, I know he means well. It's just the slightest bit creepy. I think he wants me to say that I've been a BAD, BAD girl. Or he's just the silly grandpa type. Whatever. But before he left he gave me the eyebrow wiggle and says "Now you be a good girl for the resht of the shummer!"

But really, how much trouble can I get in jusht shitting here at my deshk?

SNAFU!

If you were one of the very few people who looked at this blog this morning and now it's all fucked up, I'm sorry. Maybe it was fucked up before and I just didn't know. I don't want you to see it this way! At home I use Firefox and everything looks all nice, but now I come to the office where we have Internet Explorer and I see that once again my layout is all wacky. It pisses me off. Such trivial things piss me off, I know. But anyways, I fucked around with some stuff and messed up my last post with the hot sexy guy pictures. I know you're probably not missing them, but I am, damnit! Will work on getting that fixed.
I totally had thought, oh yeah I'm learning this HTML shit, but turns out I know nothing!

Update: (11:38AM) Heh, heh - umm, I think it's okay now. I think it was that the template didn't like the use of so many italics in that story I wrote about the crazy magazine-selling girl. That's understandable.

Yay!

I need to stop doing image searches

What is it about the British guys that makes me squirm and involuntarily do kegel excercises?
I don't know, but I like it.
Sorry, I got a little excited there.
Sometimes I can be a real giggly girly-girl when I look at cute boys.
What a rip off, huh?
It's like, not even a real post.
Yes, that's right - it's for my own personal enjoyment.
How selfish.
No really, that's just all I came up with tonight.
Sorry bout that.
But I look at this page a lot, ya know?
So I might as well enjoy it.
You can too, if you want.

Oh no, she didn't!

Tell me, what's your definition of triflin'? I'm not sure if I'm even spelling it right. One of my old coworkers used to use it quite frequently. I just think it's kind of a funny word, although it's probably overused and I'm just a little slow.

I've heard it used as describing:

• someone who is unclean/nasty
• someone who is a cheater/sleeps around
  
• someone who uses people for money
  
• someone who's a manipulator
  
• someone who's all up in your business

Come on, use it in a sentence!

Here's what urban dictionary had to say.

Update: Oh, okay - perhaps I should've used it in a sentence myself. Here are examples of how I've heard it:

• "You should see how nasty her house is, and she don't even care - that's triflin'"
• "She's trying to holla at my man! That triflin-ass ho!"
• "He's triflin... living off his woman, ain't even trying to get a job."
  

Soliciting - Another story

So, I know you're all wondering "How did she end up with the aforementioned 3 year magazine subscription?" Okay, so you're not - but just humor me.
I was at home alone and there was a knock on the door. That's kind of rare, being in an apartment building where you usually have to buzz your company in. I looked out my little peephole and she looked like a normal enough college girl. Blond hair, sporty clothes, pierced eyebrow. Who knows, maybe she even lives here? She's just carrying a notebook and when I answer the door she gets all bubbly.
"Hieee! I'm new to the area, and trying to meet as many new people as possible! Would you say you're a friendly person?"
Well, I am... but now I'm giving her the "what the fuck is this all about" kind of look while only holding the door open far enough to peek out at her.
"Umm sure" I say, and her eyes crinkle up in a huge smile. She shakes my hand and says "See, making new friends is fun!!! I'm Jen, what's your name?"
I tell her. I'm wondering where this is going and in the back of my mind imagine that she's just doing some kind of sociology project for school.
"Hey, would you do me a HUGE favor? Would you just look through this list of magazines? Just tell me which ones you like. Just for fun! Don't even look at the prices, just tell me which ones you would choose if you could choose three! "
A-ha.
I humor her, even though I know I don't have to. We've got a no soliciting sign on the apartment complex - but gee, now that we're friends and all... yeah, I'm a sucker. I look through the little booklet of odd selections of magazines which don't include any that I would normally buy, but pick three anyway. After all, it's just for fun.
"Okay! Wow, great choices! Now, I'm going to need to write something down, could I use your table there?"
That seems a little forward. I know. Don't let strangers in. But I did because I just can't say no, and she made herself comfortable. She wrote for a while like she was drawing up some sort of price quote on these magazines."Ohhh, is that your cat? Hi kitty!!!" Our cat comes up, gives her a sniff and runs in the opposite direction. Good thinking, kitty.
"Were you watching a movie?" she asks, looking at the tv. "What were you watching?" Thank God it wasn't anything too embarrassing but still, I'm kind of like damn, woman - none of your business! She proceeds to tell me what actors she likes and what movies she's recently seen. I play along with the chit-chat and light up a smoke.
"Ohhh, could I have one of those? I forgot mine!" Sure. Whatever. "Thank you SO MUCH....can I ask you for one more thing? Could I trouble you for a glass of ice water?"
Good Lord. Is this some sort of trick, and when I turn around she's gonna rob me or something? I get her a glass of water while making sure I'm facing in her direction.
"Some other people I work with have been offered beer when they've been selling magazines. They're so lucky! That never happens to me!" she says, looking at me sort of expectantly.
Heh. heh. I give her a weird look and vaguely respond "Yeah, I've heard of that happening with pizza delivery drivers..."
"Oh my God, really? They got offered beer?"
"Well, I think one of my friends actually got offered a joint."
"Oh! That is SO cool, I wish someone would offer me one, ya know? What pizza place was that?"
Guhhh. How long until I get this girl out of here? Even if I had any, I'm not letting some stranger into my stash. What the hell?
Yeah. So you would think at this point, I've been quite a gracious host. I don't owe this girl anything. Then she tells me about the trip she could get to go on if she sells enough magazines.(Ask me about the trip!I'd take you with me if I could, hahaha!) If I pay with cash, she gets more points than if it's with a check or credit card. Of course.
Now I know you're thinking this is incredibly stupid and why haven't I pushed her out yet? I don't know. Was feeling nice I guess, and I had just been paid. Plus, it was only like $30 for a 3 year subscription. That's 36 issues! I even gave her the money in cash and sent her on her way. I felt horribly gullible afterwards. Other people told me about how these magazine salespeople are a bunch of wandering gypsies, that pocket whatever money you give them.
So, that's how I got 3 whole freakin years of Spin - I was quite surprised that I even got them. I guess there's no "moral of the story" here, it was just a very odd experience that I thought I'd share. So now I've wasted your time, but hey - at least I haven't tried to sell you anything!

No Soliciting

Is it just me, or does it really suck when someone's all complimentary to you and making you feel all special, and then it turns out they're just trying to sell you something?

Okay, so sometimes I can be naive. I don't think I'm the only one that's a sucker for a compliment, though. I suppose they see that. It's not that I look like something special or look like I have money, it's that I look like a sucker.
I'm still in the midst of a 3 year magazine subscription to Spin, but be proud of me - I did not buy any imitation designer fragrances today! Even though he was a cute and friendly asian guy who chatted with me for a while. I've mentioned it before, sometimes it's hard to say no , but damn it - I have to stop being such a pushover sometimes. It's not that I don't realize what's happening. It's just thoroughly ingrained in me to be polite and gracious or something.

What really gets me is those Mary Kay ladies. They've got a good act going. Even their cars are now more nondescript so as to sneak up on the consumer. It's just like using some tired old pick-up line, someone's bound to fall for it. They'll sneak up on you when you least expect it, just going about your business. A couple of them were customers at the drycleaners, that's cheap! I have to wait on you and be courteous so it's a perfect opportunity. One MK lady said "Let me get a good look at you" and stared at me long enough to make me a bit uncomfortable, and said "Can I just tell you, hun, that your haircolor goes very nice with your complexion?" So I'm all embarrassed and like "ohh, thank you." Then she tells me I do a nice job with my makeup, and just out of curiosity what kind do I use? You've heard of Mary Kay right? She pulls out her card with the little lipstick bubble sample thing. "You should call me! I want you to be my model at one of our parties. Oh yeah, hun - you've got the face that I want to use." Ughh. That's when the smile just kinda fades away. Oh yeah. A makeover party. Great. Let's call everyone I know so they can see how bad I look before I let this MK lady at my face. Fuck that. But then I feel all bad like I can't say no, so I just have to avoid her the next 5 times she comes by looking for me.

It's just... come on, now. We live in a college town where there's lots of perky college girls who all look the same and have a face like a blank canvas. They're a dime a dozen and are sure to be much better choices. Why do they mess with me? I'm weird looking. Maybe it's out of pity and I look like a good "before" picture. I had another MK girl pull up to the drive thru window and just kept looking me up and down. I thought she was totally checking me out. I was blushing. She was close to my age, and looked normal enough. Cute even. She was all whispery like "ooohh, you've got very pretty eyes" and stepping out of her car to slip me her card. I saw it and I'm like damn, foiled again! Pulling out all the stops, aren't you ladies? No, I don't want to go to your party either.
I'm sure it's nothing to anyone else. It's just that, depending on how insecure I'm feeling that day, it just comes across like a twisted mean joke. I thought I was getting a sincere compliment just for the sake of being nice. But it's more like, let's make that mousy looking girl believe that she's pretty and then tell her the only way to look this good is with our makeup. She'll totally fall for it!
Yeah, I know - I'm too sensitive. Oh, and also cheap.

Otters get crazy with the cuteness

Bad salad

Can rusty lettuce make you sick?

I don't know, but I'm not eating that shit.

That's what I get for choosing a salad from a fast-food establishment....
but hell if I'm going to go take it back.