I just wrestled with taking off a pair of wedge boots on the floor of my computer room for a good two and a half minutes before I could get on here and say what else has happened in between the last time I shared and now.
Well besides the shoes, I peed on the floor of the bathroom at my job the other day. You know, when you squat and you are trying to hit the front rim of the toilet so no one has to hear you expel the toxin called urine from your body and at the same time you are in a public bathroom so you are not sitting on the seat because gross and so you don't want your own piss splashing up at you from the force of it hitting the water since you have waited until the last second to pee because you really didn't want to have to use the bathroom at work which is still considered a public restroom and why do they call it a restroom anyways? Who's resting in there? Don't you know there are germs in there? No one is sitting in there, at least I hope not. I know that I am not able to rest with all the different avenues that the germs can find their way upon my being, I don't have time to rest. Germ fighting is a no resting kinda gig. So in my serious concentration about my rear not hovering too close to the seat to be considered sitting and trying to find the sweet spot of the front of the toilet, I found myself distracted reaching for the toilet paper and low and behold, my golden piss is flowing past the top of the seat and dribbling down the base to the floor and there she rests. I got my pee back under control and walked out of there as if it never happened, except it did. Shame.
I also managed to lose my credit card, the same day. Peeing on floors and misplacing credit cards. What else is going to happen? The insanity. Well best friend and I are having a best friend kind of evening and we go to Taco Bell, Anderson's for ice cream and fries and then find ourselves at WalMart for some yarn and what not. In WalMart I am the nasty that everyone hates because I am trying on lipstick without purchasing any of them. I think I tried on like five different lipsticks. Maybelline isn't for everyone. Lipstick isn't for everyone. I was the person I hate though. Everyone wants to know what the lipstick is going to look like, but you have the decent people who if the make-up sucks they don't find out until they have paid their money and made it home and they try it on with that dress one night and realize that coral really isn't their color and so then it sits on their dresser, in a bathroom drawer for the end of eternity. I was not that person and so my lips have taken away the innocence and the magic of a fresh new lipstick from the store. I ruined that for at least five individuals, if not more. It wasn't intentional. I just don't really want to buy something if it is going to suck is all. I wish you could try everything before you purchased it or had to commit to it for an indefinitely long period of time. That only seems reasonable. Just a thought.
So we are walking around the store, lipstick in hand and we venture to the yarn center where it takes forever to pick out yarn. You would never think so, but there are so many options and colors and textures and soft levels. So, we finally make a decision and it is time to leave. My feet are hurting, it is a bit chilly outside and all I have is a thin blazer on and so I am ready. We get to the best friend's house and we are sitting there chatting and laughing like we usually do after our adventures, we need to recap and make sure we are on the same page, in case either of us missed anything. After about fifteen twenty minutes, best friend is talking about let's get something from the store. Shame because we were fiending. So we go down the street to the local Tops grocery market, because best friend is too good for the gas station.
As we are about to get out of the vehicle, I am searching my bra, my itty bitty blazer pockets, my panty line at my hips searching for my card. No where. So then I begin searching my bag. Not in there either. I check my bra one more time because you know, boobs attempt to eat things all the time. Still no card. We are looking in the seat, we are looking under the seat. We are looking on the floor, we are looking on the dash, on the sides of seats. Basically we are looking everywhere and there is no card. None. So best friend goes into the store as I am nearly on hands and knees looking under the seat and on the side of the seat again. No go. She comes back, I drop her off because yay me I get to go back to WalMart. Mind you, we have been gone a good half and hour plus. That card is long gone and I know I brought it out of the store with me. All I could keep thinking was damn it! I shouldn't have paid on that card because now the limit is so much higher, people could do some damage. Dang nation!!
Ok. So I drop her off and I am racing back to the damned WalMart. I finally get there and as I am pulling in I am thanking my lucky stars that I don't have a big 'ol van because the way I pulled into that parking lot made it look like I was on the prowl for little children with sticky fingers. Yes I was creeping scouring the ground hoping for a glint or gleam of my card. No go. I do a U-ie and am at it again. I then realize on my creep back, that I am really not going to find this card, so I park. I park in a parking spot and I get my bag out again. I must say, I love big bags, but they are good for losing things in. Knowing this, I went searching hard, again. No luck. So I give in to the fact that yes I have to walk back into WalMart with different colored lips on (I switched from the one I tried on in the store to another I bought) and hoping with a desperate beggars face on that someone has turned my card in or I left it with the lovely cashier who has been holding on to it awaiting my return.
Luckily I didn't have to show my new lips. As soon as I opened my door and put my high heeled hurting foot on the pavement, what do you see? Low and behold, there is my Discover card staring up at me. I just happened to park in the exact same parking spot as when we first went to WalMart. How unlikely is that? How lucky is that? So, with one foot out of the car I pick up my card, stuff it in my bra and realize that I get to go home. The charade is over.
Lessons learned here-
1. Don't go to WalMart
2. Stop wearing itty bitty blazers with next to nothing pockets
3. Don't be a quitter
4. Always choose dark colored cards-they blend into asphalt.
And last but not least-
5. Your boobs will always be a safer place to stash things than pockets that can be picked.
(you're gonna know if your boobs are being picked).
So that concludes the nonsense of my life. I hope it was entertaining. I swear, I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Don't drink the water.
I made a facebook status a few weeks ago that said I hope stupid isn't contagious. I really do hope it isn't because it seems that everyone is just stupid nowadays. I don't get it. And not only is everyone stupid, but it seems like they think it is cool to be stupid. Half the time I am wishing that I could fill my brain with more things, knowledgeable things and yet half wits are walking around saying the stupidest things and laughing about it like it is really funny and cute to be stupid. I am going to go ahead and blame Jessica Simpson for this. Her and that damned show. If she didn't have the damn show and Nick Lachey.
I'm so tired of stupid people trying to talk to me. Stop trying to get at me with that stupid little lingo. Do you really think that talking to me like that is going to work? It doesn't turn me on. It actually turns me off because I just can't handle stupid people and the way you just put those letters together to form that word?
"What up doe?" -- I mean really? Did you really just say that to me? What up doe? Like I have been called a female animal before, but never a female deer, so I'm just wondering... what are you saying? Really? And stop asking me what's good. We are not at a restaurant, there is no menu in front of us. You know, I don't really know what is good. Never been here before. Why is it so difficult to say how are you? Why not ask me about my day? Anything interesting happen? Hell, ask me about the weather, but if you ask me what is good one more time, trust and believe that I can show you better than I can tell you and I'm pretty sure you'll be wanting your money back. That's the kind of show it will be.
So... yeah... that was lazy and why must I think harder to understand just what the heck you are trying to say to me? Why do I feel like I need a pocket translator to get on with this conversation? It shouldn't be like this. It really shouldn't. I mean we both leave in North America right? Is that English you're speaking? And I'm wondering... do you talk to your mother like that? If you don't talk to your mother like that then why would you talk to me like that? If your mother talks the way you do, then just don't talk at all. And if you do talk to your mother like that, still don't talk to me like that because I just don't know what you are saying. It shouldn't have to be a guessing game. If I am asking you to define more than fifty percent of what you say to me, that's just too much and maybe you need to reevaluate your mixture of recognized slang usage and the rest of the English language, because I just can't. I can't understand you and we speak the same language. That's a problem. Fix it.
I swear people just think it is cute to be stupid like knowledge is the wrong thing to have. Knowledge is the one thing that you can manage to impart to others without having your own supply diminish. Knowledge is the one thing that you can hold on to until death without it depleting in value (to people who understand its importance) or quantity. Please people. Open up a book so your mind can open up too. I don't understand how a girl decided to talk about how she hates how when people get into relationships and the partner starts dictating who the person can and can not see. She said that it just doesn't make any "since." What the hell?! Any since? Really? Did you mean to type sense? Because sense fits there. Since you are such an idiot, maybe you can have some sense knocked into you. Maybe? I'm hoping so. I really am.
I understand that technology also plays a part in this because I have also lost my ability to spell, but since and sense? No. I can't spell words like onomatopoeia and crap and crap, the stupid mac auto corrected it for me and everything, so it is spelled right. God, see. Technology makes us too dependent. Stop auto correcting me. Make me learn about my mistakes. I like PCs better. They just red underline me. They do not auto correct me. They give me a chance to make my brain think. One day we will have machines to do that for us though. I mean seriously people. Do you realize all that you are missing? Technology is taking over. Facebook is the new news. That is not good.
I found out today that an old professor of mine passed away. My friend Facebook chatted me about it and he said that he found out through Facebook. It is sad that a social networking site is our first place for news. That is where we find things out about each other and the world. He asked what that says about our culture and it says that we are highly dependent on non interactive, non face to face contact. Words on a screen, while we are except for our fingers, stationary and silent. Not a word passes our lips. We do not speak to one another any longer, we text and type and send emoticons because we are unable to express ourselves without stupid little smiley faces, let alone in person. We are losing contact and one day we won't know how to interact without a screen between us. It is a shame when it is so much easier to hang up the phone and then immediately text the person who you were just talking to and tell them things that you could have and should have said with a verbalization, yet we resort to texting because there is a barrier there, a built in guard that keeps us separated from our words and the individual that they are intended for.
We are losing ourselves as a species. We are losing what it means to be human. I want more than to talk to a screen, to read simplistic words. I want to have meaning and memories that are attached to them, not simply late nights with my mac or PC. Is there true intimacy there? Can there be?
So I suppose that I can only expect people to be so damned stupid. If all they are looking at is youtube all day and no one can be bothered to look up from their mobile devices to provide any better an example and technology takes over our thoughts and is a brain for us... I guess then it isn't their fault. But then, I have to wonder, how are some people still making it out alive?
I'm not ready to give up and surrender myself over to megabytes and metal. Scrap that.
Oh, by the way, wanna hang out?
I'm so tired of stupid people trying to talk to me. Stop trying to get at me with that stupid little lingo. Do you really think that talking to me like that is going to work? It doesn't turn me on. It actually turns me off because I just can't handle stupid people and the way you just put those letters together to form that word?
"What up doe?" -- I mean really? Did you really just say that to me? What up doe? Like I have been called a female animal before, but never a female deer, so I'm just wondering... what are you saying? Really? And stop asking me what's good. We are not at a restaurant, there is no menu in front of us. You know, I don't really know what is good. Never been here before. Why is it so difficult to say how are you? Why not ask me about my day? Anything interesting happen? Hell, ask me about the weather, but if you ask me what is good one more time, trust and believe that I can show you better than I can tell you and I'm pretty sure you'll be wanting your money back. That's the kind of show it will be.
So... yeah... that was lazy and why must I think harder to understand just what the heck you are trying to say to me? Why do I feel like I need a pocket translator to get on with this conversation? It shouldn't be like this. It really shouldn't. I mean we both leave in North America right? Is that English you're speaking? And I'm wondering... do you talk to your mother like that? If you don't talk to your mother like that then why would you talk to me like that? If your mother talks the way you do, then just don't talk at all. And if you do talk to your mother like that, still don't talk to me like that because I just don't know what you are saying. It shouldn't have to be a guessing game. If I am asking you to define more than fifty percent of what you say to me, that's just too much and maybe you need to reevaluate your mixture of recognized slang usage and the rest of the English language, because I just can't. I can't understand you and we speak the same language. That's a problem. Fix it.
I swear people just think it is cute to be stupid like knowledge is the wrong thing to have. Knowledge is the one thing that you can manage to impart to others without having your own supply diminish. Knowledge is the one thing that you can hold on to until death without it depleting in value (to people who understand its importance) or quantity. Please people. Open up a book so your mind can open up too. I don't understand how a girl decided to talk about how she hates how when people get into relationships and the partner starts dictating who the person can and can not see. She said that it just doesn't make any "since." What the hell?! Any since? Really? Did you mean to type sense? Because sense fits there. Since you are such an idiot, maybe you can have some sense knocked into you. Maybe? I'm hoping so. I really am.
I understand that technology also plays a part in this because I have also lost my ability to spell, but since and sense? No. I can't spell words like onomatopoeia and crap and crap, the stupid mac auto corrected it for me and everything, so it is spelled right. God, see. Technology makes us too dependent. Stop auto correcting me. Make me learn about my mistakes. I like PCs better. They just red underline me. They do not auto correct me. They give me a chance to make my brain think. One day we will have machines to do that for us though. I mean seriously people. Do you realize all that you are missing? Technology is taking over. Facebook is the new news. That is not good.
I found out today that an old professor of mine passed away. My friend Facebook chatted me about it and he said that he found out through Facebook. It is sad that a social networking site is our first place for news. That is where we find things out about each other and the world. He asked what that says about our culture and it says that we are highly dependent on non interactive, non face to face contact. Words on a screen, while we are except for our fingers, stationary and silent. Not a word passes our lips. We do not speak to one another any longer, we text and type and send emoticons because we are unable to express ourselves without stupid little smiley faces, let alone in person. We are losing contact and one day we won't know how to interact without a screen between us. It is a shame when it is so much easier to hang up the phone and then immediately text the person who you were just talking to and tell them things that you could have and should have said with a verbalization, yet we resort to texting because there is a barrier there, a built in guard that keeps us separated from our words and the individual that they are intended for.
We are losing ourselves as a species. We are losing what it means to be human. I want more than to talk to a screen, to read simplistic words. I want to have meaning and memories that are attached to them, not simply late nights with my mac or PC. Is there true intimacy there? Can there be?
So I suppose that I can only expect people to be so damned stupid. If all they are looking at is youtube all day and no one can be bothered to look up from their mobile devices to provide any better an example and technology takes over our thoughts and is a brain for us... I guess then it isn't their fault. But then, I have to wonder, how are some people still making it out alive?
I'm not ready to give up and surrender myself over to megabytes and metal. Scrap that.
Oh, by the way, wanna hang out?
Sunday, October 23, 2011
This is what living looks like.
So Thursday I got my evaluation at work. I need to get this off my chest before I have another Tuesday. Basically I think that this week sucked. It was the worst evaluation ever and I didn't know what to do about it. Well I ended up talking to my supervisor about it and that was a half an hour wasted of my life. I swear. When I went in there I told her that I was concerned just because if the evaluation was a reflection of my performance, then I wanted to know specifically what it is that I was doing wrong or that I could be doing better aka why my review was full of 2s when the range is 0-5, 0-1 being unsatisfactory, 2-3 being satisfactory, 4 being commendable, and 5 being outstanding.
Now I wasn't expecting any 5s because I don't think I am the best or anything and there is always room for improvement, but I also wasn't expecting all 2s. When I hear satisfactory and there are two numbers in that ranking and I have the lesser of the two, I hear that it is a step above unsatisfactory and that I am doing just enough to get by. Yes I am doing my work and the job is getting done, but it is not to the best of my ability and I'm not proud of 2 work. That is like bringing home a D. I passed, but I am on the verge of failing. I tried to explain this to my supervisor as objectively as I could, but she wasn't hearing it and I didn't go in there for her to change my review, I simply wanted to know where I could improve if these were really the scores she thought I deserved.
I'm just gonna throw a couple examples out there. My supervisor comes to me for multiple things. Multiple. I keep things organized, I plan events, I am the go to person when things are in the clutch. I don't care for it because it can be very overwhelming and I feel taken advantage of because I don't know how to say no and so I am usually the one cleaning things up that other people were supposed to do that they then throw on me. I don't like it because I feel like I don't have enough time to do the best job I would like to do, but within the time frame given and the resources provided I think that I do more than ok and always get the job done if it means staying late, driving to Niagara Falls, I am always figuring things out on my own because I feel like I can not rely on my supervisor, so it is easier for me to just do it myself. I do CC her on everything I do though. I also verbalize what is being done so that she is aware. I don't understand how on such measures as accountability, flexibility and adaptability, and job knowledge then I can score 2s. I knew more about the job when I first started than she did. I have also done training for her to teach her how to do the things that I knew before entering this position. I also just on Thursday did a presentation for an outreach initiative that was originally designated to someone else, then at the last minute given to me. I didn't complain (out-loud or to her) and so I'm not understanding. And no one prepares me for anything. I am constantly learning on the fly and on my own. I have set up my own trainings and just don't understand these 2s.
My supervisor then told me that it means satisfactory which means I am getting the work done, but I explained to her that yes I understand this, but I have never gotten a 2 before and I feel that the work that I do is above and beyond. I really said that I think that I work harder than what my evaluation reflects and if she is not able to observe this that it concerns me because I want her to be able to see the hard work that I am putting forth. She then went on to explain that this was only a three month period that she was able to base this off of and that for my sixth month the scores would more than likely be higher because she would have more to observe of me. What? Either I am a good worker or not. Either I produce or not. I am not going to change as a worker. I bust my ass now, you think I won't later. The only thing that would make that happen is, oh right an evaluation like this which makes me feel unappreciated and overworked. So in three months I haven't done anything more than 2s? What? Just put not applicable then if you haven't observed it instead of a 2!
Whatever. I was telling my mom and my friend the other day and my friend had the right idea. She said well, if your supervisor thinks that what you do now is 2 work, then do 2 work and then mayb you may even get as a high as a five. I couldn't stop laughing. My mother agreed.
Anyways. Friday was a pretty good day aside from having to talk to the supervisor about the damned evaluation. It was our social workers last day and so it means that I will be doing a lot more case management! So excited. That is one thing about my job, it gives me so much experience and helps me deal with situations that I haven't had to deal with which just like they say if it doesn't kill me, it only makes me stronger and I swear, I am building up my tolerance. I'm just nervous that my sass is going to come out like 24/7 which then means I'm just being a bitch and still can't control my emotions. Can't I just fall in a nice happy medium?
Ok. So at work I am addicted to email. I used to hate it, but now I love it and I email all the time. I still suck sometimes, but mostly I try to be really good at email. I seriously have gotten so much better too. Ok, besides the point. My friend from across the border lets me know about a party that night except I wasn't being a listener and just said I had to babysit on Saturday so couldn't come, but thanks for thinking of me. Next thing you know I am on facebook getting all jealous and what not because my girls are talking about the party. I read what they are saying though and it was saying tonight which was Friday and I emailed my friend back and was like heck yeah I can venture down for that party. It only means driving for 2 hours and then waking up hella early to be back for work Saturday morning. I can definitely do that.
So then the calls are going out. Excitement is up. Emails stop being paragraphs long and turn into one word- Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! (that is a scream by the way). I call my best friend, but she is no where to be found and by the fifth call, the voicemails I am leaving her are beginning to sound quite threatening and obnoxious. I am also beginning to get anxious as the decision to go to Toronto came at 2 in the afternoon and no one has packed, no one has alcohol, no one has money, and no one has heard from anyone. I also had to cancel plans for these shenanigans. Sorry if you are reading this. I owe you.
So we are meeting at a new location except my friend doesn't know their address. What? How don't know your friends address? Ok. Fine. We will just meet at the regular meeting place. So I finally get a hold of my partner in crime and I tell her the low down aka we are going to Canada for the night and will be home in the morning. I agree to this outting for another reason, 647 who was originally going to be there, is not going to be there and so I am so down for a girls night.
After driving for two hours, I am told, with a drink in my hand that I will be driving to the club. Not impressed. Things change. The boy whose house we are staying at has decided that it is ok for me to be planking it the half an hour drive down into the city. In it. I like drinking and so once this decision is made shots all around. It's going down.
So I thought being able to lay down in the back seat of a charger was going to be the best idea and best spot in the house. I was mistaken. I kept getting my head dented on the door of the car everytime it took a turn, not to mention it is a horrible idea to half plank it in a dress. Half plank meaning that my legs kept getting bent without my brain telling them to bend and I was being inappropriately touched and people were laughing and I couldn't recline and relax. I was constantly at the mercy of the turning car and the bodies beneath me. Finally the ride was over.
We arrive, but no one knew where we were going and so we had the address and then I realized that we were going up in numbers when we really needed to be going down and so we turn right around then we get there and the line is crazy long. 647 ends up showing up. Can I just say I wasn't expecting to see her and as I am crossing the street my friend points, I think to the club, but nope it is to 647 and my unsuspecting self goes into a shock face because I am shocked. Not who I wanted to see that night. So we say not a word to each other. Me, I have nothing to say, she who knows why. And I realize that this is the way it has always been with 647, except I wasn't eager to see her this time around and so when she acted like it was nothing, as she always has, I wasn't upset, because I finally got it. I could have just done without the reminder of her in my face on a girls night out.
So, we find a friend, skip and then decide that the line is too long anyways. I found friends while in line though because I was afraid from all the pushing that a fight was going to ensue. I was also afraid of the fight since the best friend decided that she wanted to start one and so when this poor little rude little white girl was on the phone talking about ghetto bitches and this ghetto place that she just doesn't want to go into, the best friend took it upon herself to show her about ghetto Kevin Hart style. I couldn't stop laughing when I got the recount of this. So the girl is talking ghetto this ghetto that and I go to where she is and I start off with a ya know you're being rude talk as her friend pulls me aside and apologizes because her friend is drunk and it is her bday. All I want to say is shut up talking to me. I hear you. Stop repeating yourself. I'm drunk too, but I'm not being rude. What the heck.
Little did I know that while the friend of the rude girl is apologizing and explaining to me, my best friend is not talking, but mushing the poor unsuspecting girl in the face not once, not twice, but three times. The girl gets out of her grasp for about 2 point 5 and so I get summoned, "Katie! Get her!" (this is all in the shut it down voice that you can hear Kevin Hart do). I am unable to 'get her' as I am still being apologized and explained to. What the heck. Still didn't know that the best friend was over there causing trouble. Next thing you know the explainer is walking away and the rude friend is being picked up with arms and legs flailing and all I can think is why and how did she get so upset. I later find out about not only the mushing, but that when I was summoned, since I didn't get the memo, the best friend snatched her up by the hair, you know as a means of saying, "come over here." Hilarious. Who does these things.
After those shenans, we leave. At this point. I am ready to go anywhere just to shake my butt. There was no butt shaking to be had. None. Friend one was too done. Friend two was too tired and the boys were acting like jack-offs. Jack-offs. They were really nice and funny though. I think we may be friends. So we get back to the house. I'm pouring a drink getting eggs and peppers and mushrooms and milk and everything out of the fridge because all I really want is Jims. The eggs sucked! I ended up eating shrimp flavored pasta and let me tell you, although it was delicious, I wanted to throw up after every bite from the shrimp. I really don't like shrimp. Really.
The night was to say the least out of control. I met Tarzan's best friend. You should really hear his laugh. I recorded it for my ringtone on my phone.
Six thirty a.m. rolls around and I jump up thinking I am somewhere that I am not and all I can think about is how I wish I were at border. Best friend and I also ran out of cigarettes the night before. Basically we sucked. Neither of us showered before work, but were both on time. We also brushed our teeth, so we got points there. Old men loved us in McDonalds despite our smell. Maybe we don't suck.
I'm thinking I need another over-nighter. Next time more drinks, more dancing, and a little less drama. Just a thought.
Now I wasn't expecting any 5s because I don't think I am the best or anything and there is always room for improvement, but I also wasn't expecting all 2s. When I hear satisfactory and there are two numbers in that ranking and I have the lesser of the two, I hear that it is a step above unsatisfactory and that I am doing just enough to get by. Yes I am doing my work and the job is getting done, but it is not to the best of my ability and I'm not proud of 2 work. That is like bringing home a D. I passed, but I am on the verge of failing. I tried to explain this to my supervisor as objectively as I could, but she wasn't hearing it and I didn't go in there for her to change my review, I simply wanted to know where I could improve if these were really the scores she thought I deserved.
I'm just gonna throw a couple examples out there. My supervisor comes to me for multiple things. Multiple. I keep things organized, I plan events, I am the go to person when things are in the clutch. I don't care for it because it can be very overwhelming and I feel taken advantage of because I don't know how to say no and so I am usually the one cleaning things up that other people were supposed to do that they then throw on me. I don't like it because I feel like I don't have enough time to do the best job I would like to do, but within the time frame given and the resources provided I think that I do more than ok and always get the job done if it means staying late, driving to Niagara Falls, I am always figuring things out on my own because I feel like I can not rely on my supervisor, so it is easier for me to just do it myself. I do CC her on everything I do though. I also verbalize what is being done so that she is aware. I don't understand how on such measures as accountability, flexibility and adaptability, and job knowledge then I can score 2s. I knew more about the job when I first started than she did. I have also done training for her to teach her how to do the things that I knew before entering this position. I also just on Thursday did a presentation for an outreach initiative that was originally designated to someone else, then at the last minute given to me. I didn't complain (out-loud or to her) and so I'm not understanding. And no one prepares me for anything. I am constantly learning on the fly and on my own. I have set up my own trainings and just don't understand these 2s.
My supervisor then told me that it means satisfactory which means I am getting the work done, but I explained to her that yes I understand this, but I have never gotten a 2 before and I feel that the work that I do is above and beyond. I really said that I think that I work harder than what my evaluation reflects and if she is not able to observe this that it concerns me because I want her to be able to see the hard work that I am putting forth. She then went on to explain that this was only a three month period that she was able to base this off of and that for my sixth month the scores would more than likely be higher because she would have more to observe of me. What? Either I am a good worker or not. Either I produce or not. I am not going to change as a worker. I bust my ass now, you think I won't later. The only thing that would make that happen is, oh right an evaluation like this which makes me feel unappreciated and overworked. So in three months I haven't done anything more than 2s? What? Just put not applicable then if you haven't observed it instead of a 2!
Whatever. I was telling my mom and my friend the other day and my friend had the right idea. She said well, if your supervisor thinks that what you do now is 2 work, then do 2 work and then mayb you may even get as a high as a five. I couldn't stop laughing. My mother agreed.
Anyways. Friday was a pretty good day aside from having to talk to the supervisor about the damned evaluation. It was our social workers last day and so it means that I will be doing a lot more case management! So excited. That is one thing about my job, it gives me so much experience and helps me deal with situations that I haven't had to deal with which just like they say if it doesn't kill me, it only makes me stronger and I swear, I am building up my tolerance. I'm just nervous that my sass is going to come out like 24/7 which then means I'm just being a bitch and still can't control my emotions. Can't I just fall in a nice happy medium?
Ok. So at work I am addicted to email. I used to hate it, but now I love it and I email all the time. I still suck sometimes, but mostly I try to be really good at email. I seriously have gotten so much better too. Ok, besides the point. My friend from across the border lets me know about a party that night except I wasn't being a listener and just said I had to babysit on Saturday so couldn't come, but thanks for thinking of me. Next thing you know I am on facebook getting all jealous and what not because my girls are talking about the party. I read what they are saying though and it was saying tonight which was Friday and I emailed my friend back and was like heck yeah I can venture down for that party. It only means driving for 2 hours and then waking up hella early to be back for work Saturday morning. I can definitely do that.
So then the calls are going out. Excitement is up. Emails stop being paragraphs long and turn into one word- Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! (that is a scream by the way). I call my best friend, but she is no where to be found and by the fifth call, the voicemails I am leaving her are beginning to sound quite threatening and obnoxious. I am also beginning to get anxious as the decision to go to Toronto came at 2 in the afternoon and no one has packed, no one has alcohol, no one has money, and no one has heard from anyone. I also had to cancel plans for these shenanigans. Sorry if you are reading this. I owe you.
So we are meeting at a new location except my friend doesn't know their address. What? How don't know your friends address? Ok. Fine. We will just meet at the regular meeting place. So I finally get a hold of my partner in crime and I tell her the low down aka we are going to Canada for the night and will be home in the morning. I agree to this outting for another reason, 647 who was originally going to be there, is not going to be there and so I am so down for a girls night.
After driving for two hours, I am told, with a drink in my hand that I will be driving to the club. Not impressed. Things change. The boy whose house we are staying at has decided that it is ok for me to be planking it the half an hour drive down into the city. In it. I like drinking and so once this decision is made shots all around. It's going down.
So I thought being able to lay down in the back seat of a charger was going to be the best idea and best spot in the house. I was mistaken. I kept getting my head dented on the door of the car everytime it took a turn, not to mention it is a horrible idea to half plank it in a dress. Half plank meaning that my legs kept getting bent without my brain telling them to bend and I was being inappropriately touched and people were laughing and I couldn't recline and relax. I was constantly at the mercy of the turning car and the bodies beneath me. Finally the ride was over.
We arrive, but no one knew where we were going and so we had the address and then I realized that we were going up in numbers when we really needed to be going down and so we turn right around then we get there and the line is crazy long. 647 ends up showing up. Can I just say I wasn't expecting to see her and as I am crossing the street my friend points, I think to the club, but nope it is to 647 and my unsuspecting self goes into a shock face because I am shocked. Not who I wanted to see that night. So we say not a word to each other. Me, I have nothing to say, she who knows why. And I realize that this is the way it has always been with 647, except I wasn't eager to see her this time around and so when she acted like it was nothing, as she always has, I wasn't upset, because I finally got it. I could have just done without the reminder of her in my face on a girls night out.
So, we find a friend, skip and then decide that the line is too long anyways. I found friends while in line though because I was afraid from all the pushing that a fight was going to ensue. I was also afraid of the fight since the best friend decided that she wanted to start one and so when this poor little rude little white girl was on the phone talking about ghetto bitches and this ghetto place that she just doesn't want to go into, the best friend took it upon herself to show her about ghetto Kevin Hart style. I couldn't stop laughing when I got the recount of this. So the girl is talking ghetto this ghetto that and I go to where she is and I start off with a ya know you're being rude talk as her friend pulls me aside and apologizes because her friend is drunk and it is her bday. All I want to say is shut up talking to me. I hear you. Stop repeating yourself. I'm drunk too, but I'm not being rude. What the heck.
Little did I know that while the friend of the rude girl is apologizing and explaining to me, my best friend is not talking, but mushing the poor unsuspecting girl in the face not once, not twice, but three times. The girl gets out of her grasp for about 2 point 5 and so I get summoned, "Katie! Get her!" (this is all in the shut it down voice that you can hear Kevin Hart do). I am unable to 'get her' as I am still being apologized and explained to. What the heck. Still didn't know that the best friend was over there causing trouble. Next thing you know the explainer is walking away and the rude friend is being picked up with arms and legs flailing and all I can think is why and how did she get so upset. I later find out about not only the mushing, but that when I was summoned, since I didn't get the memo, the best friend snatched her up by the hair, you know as a means of saying, "come over here." Hilarious. Who does these things.
After those shenans, we leave. At this point. I am ready to go anywhere just to shake my butt. There was no butt shaking to be had. None. Friend one was too done. Friend two was too tired and the boys were acting like jack-offs. Jack-offs. They were really nice and funny though. I think we may be friends. So we get back to the house. I'm pouring a drink getting eggs and peppers and mushrooms and milk and everything out of the fridge because all I really want is Jims. The eggs sucked! I ended up eating shrimp flavored pasta and let me tell you, although it was delicious, I wanted to throw up after every bite from the shrimp. I really don't like shrimp. Really.
The night was to say the least out of control. I met Tarzan's best friend. You should really hear his laugh. I recorded it for my ringtone on my phone.
Six thirty a.m. rolls around and I jump up thinking I am somewhere that I am not and all I can think about is how I wish I were at border. Best friend and I also ran out of cigarettes the night before. Basically we sucked. Neither of us showered before work, but were both on time. We also brushed our teeth, so we got points there. Old men loved us in McDonalds despite our smell. Maybe we don't suck.
I'm thinking I need another over-nighter. Next time more drinks, more dancing, and a little less drama. Just a thought.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
WTF?!
So Tuesday I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. I felt like a crazy person headed to the looney bin. First off, I wake up after having the weirdest dream of life within a 45 minute go back to sleep period. So once I laugh that off, I have this weird yet intense feeling of anxiety settle over me and next thing you know everything has me on the verge of tears. Twenty minutes late to work and I am about to cry. Having to pay the toll and tears are welling. I hit my third red light and my eyes are going wet. Not to mention I am typing up a fact sheet on the transmission of HIV and oral sex and I have to stop because my mind is going crazy and my eyes are responding. What the hell is that about? I mean the little demon monsters came and ate my ovaries already and aren't due back for some time now. So what is the issue?
All I know is that I was having serious anxiety. My heart was beating so badly I was nervous that it was going to beat out of my chest or crack my ribs at the least. My hands were sweating like a criminals and before it got to this stage which was the second half of my morning, I had already decided that I was going to run away, that I needed to.
Funny. My best friend did this running away thing back when she was sorta around my age. She was being detained, found herself in a bathroom, jumped out of the window and wasn't heard from for a week. Then she brought it home with a quick weekend in Niagara Falls where I finally was able to talk to her and we drank sweety little twist offs and watched Up and My Sister's Keeper. Cried during them both. Couldn't.
I'm just saying, if I am going to run away, I want it to be as theatrical as hers. Oh right, I forgot to mention, people were looking for her. People were at the bus station, at her house, going all around Buffalo looking for her praying to God she hadn't completely lost it and done anything crazy or stupid. Luckily she just disappeared and was alive and well.
I am thinking of going to someplace too. I can't disclose the information... well I suppose I could because it doesn't matter if you know where I am going if you don't know where I am. I am thinking of Chicago, Boston, San Diego, Atlanta, Vermont, Montana, even Minnesota just to run away to where I don't know anyone, they don't know me and I can start with a fresh clean slate. I want to be able to start over and London is much too far away at this moment. I am losing it over here although I must confess, I bring it upon myself.
So you know these Jerk-off McGees that I am always falling for, that all girls seem to fall for? Well, I am one. My best friend who did this running away business also told me that 647 was my karma. Well aint karma a real bitch? I have to say that was one of the worst parts of being stuck in that situation, I knew the actions and reactions and I knew why some things could be said and then others couldn't. As the Jerk-off McGee, you can genuinely like a person all while knowing that it isn't going anywhere, but you don't necessarily want to lose a person, so even though you know that they like you way more than you like them, you keep them around by doing just enough and just enough will work for a long long time. Also with Jerk-off McGee, you can say so much more than you do, that is a key characteristic. McGees stay with an arsenal of quick fixes and nice lines to make you feel a certain way that their lack of actions will never back, but the words will keep someone fixed for longer than you think.
It takes a strong strong woman to get away from the sticky grips of a Jerk-off McGee. Seeing how I am part of the problem aka I have definitely been the Jerk-off McGee and so I should know. I'm really good at being that person, that Jerk-off McGee person. Usually when someone likes me, I most definitely don't like them back. Sometimes they get lucky though. That sounds really conceited, but I swear, it is such a pattern. I never like people, but the people that like me are the people I say I want, but then I really don't. Ugh. What do I want? I think it is time for me to go on that silent retreat I found out about because I need to find myself. I mean I am 23 (got it right this time), not 13. I should not just now be figuring shit out. I should have most of it down and just working out the kinks. It is not time to run away. Who runs away in their 20s? Kids run away. Not adults and if adults do, it is because they are unstable.
Oh my God. I'm unstable.
My life is out of control and I am not sure what I am supposed to do to get it back on track. The move back to London is supposed to help, but I need to act, not avoid. Avoidance is such a pleasant coping mechanism though. My favorite manifestation of the mechanism would be sleeping. If only I could sleep my life away until the interesting parts. The parst where I have my career-and I am successful, I have my house, I have whomever-cat or partner, and I am driving something other than the Money Maker. At this point I would like to have also been to more than 9 countries not including the United States, Canada, or Mexico.
I think I am going to take a nap. Maybe when I wake up either I will quit my Jerk-off ways seeing that karma taught me a thing or two. That or I'm going to be in my sitting room of my house with a cat on my lap and a book in my hand thinking about ways to rule the board room on Monday. Whichever.
All I know is that I was having serious anxiety. My heart was beating so badly I was nervous that it was going to beat out of my chest or crack my ribs at the least. My hands were sweating like a criminals and before it got to this stage which was the second half of my morning, I had already decided that I was going to run away, that I needed to.
Funny. My best friend did this running away thing back when she was sorta around my age. She was being detained, found herself in a bathroom, jumped out of the window and wasn't heard from for a week. Then she brought it home with a quick weekend in Niagara Falls where I finally was able to talk to her and we drank sweety little twist offs and watched Up and My Sister's Keeper. Cried during them both. Couldn't.
I'm just saying, if I am going to run away, I want it to be as theatrical as hers. Oh right, I forgot to mention, people were looking for her. People were at the bus station, at her house, going all around Buffalo looking for her praying to God she hadn't completely lost it and done anything crazy or stupid. Luckily she just disappeared and was alive and well.
I am thinking of going to someplace too. I can't disclose the information... well I suppose I could because it doesn't matter if you know where I am going if you don't know where I am. I am thinking of Chicago, Boston, San Diego, Atlanta, Vermont, Montana, even Minnesota just to run away to where I don't know anyone, they don't know me and I can start with a fresh clean slate. I want to be able to start over and London is much too far away at this moment. I am losing it over here although I must confess, I bring it upon myself.
So you know these Jerk-off McGees that I am always falling for, that all girls seem to fall for? Well, I am one. My best friend who did this running away business also told me that 647 was my karma. Well aint karma a real bitch? I have to say that was one of the worst parts of being stuck in that situation, I knew the actions and reactions and I knew why some things could be said and then others couldn't. As the Jerk-off McGee, you can genuinely like a person all while knowing that it isn't going anywhere, but you don't necessarily want to lose a person, so even though you know that they like you way more than you like them, you keep them around by doing just enough and just enough will work for a long long time. Also with Jerk-off McGee, you can say so much more than you do, that is a key characteristic. McGees stay with an arsenal of quick fixes and nice lines to make you feel a certain way that their lack of actions will never back, but the words will keep someone fixed for longer than you think.
It takes a strong strong woman to get away from the sticky grips of a Jerk-off McGee. Seeing how I am part of the problem aka I have definitely been the Jerk-off McGee and so I should know. I'm really good at being that person, that Jerk-off McGee person. Usually when someone likes me, I most definitely don't like them back. Sometimes they get lucky though. That sounds really conceited, but I swear, it is such a pattern. I never like people, but the people that like me are the people I say I want, but then I really don't. Ugh. What do I want? I think it is time for me to go on that silent retreat I found out about because I need to find myself. I mean I am 23 (got it right this time), not 13. I should not just now be figuring shit out. I should have most of it down and just working out the kinks. It is not time to run away. Who runs away in their 20s? Kids run away. Not adults and if adults do, it is because they are unstable.
Oh my God. I'm unstable.
My life is out of control and I am not sure what I am supposed to do to get it back on track. The move back to London is supposed to help, but I need to act, not avoid. Avoidance is such a pleasant coping mechanism though. My favorite manifestation of the mechanism would be sleeping. If only I could sleep my life away until the interesting parts. The parst where I have my career-and I am successful, I have my house, I have whomever-cat or partner, and I am driving something other than the Money Maker. At this point I would like to have also been to more than 9 countries not including the United States, Canada, or Mexico.
I think I am going to take a nap. Maybe when I wake up either I will quit my Jerk-off ways seeing that karma taught me a thing or two. That or I'm going to be in my sitting room of my house with a cat on my lap and a book in my hand thinking about ways to rule the board room on Monday. Whichever.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Here we go again
Today I don't like bananas. Bananas and I have a love hate relationship except maybe never quite to either of those extremes. I never really love bananas, but I never really hate them. Today though, I don't like them. I discovered my dislike only after I had peeled half of the banana that was on my desk. I thought it would be a good idea to get a serving of fruits into my diet since pizza doesn't fit as nicely into the food pyramid as I would like it to. Well, eating that banana was like torture. My face became tight and I looked as if I had bitten into a lemon and the smell... Oh my goodness the smell. I really don't like bananas today. That is all.
So today on my way to work I was thinking of something to write about and as I was on my way to work placing the finishing touches on my face I realize that there shouldn't be a law against texting and driving, there should be a law against women putting their faces on in the morning and driving. Of the fifteen or so women in cars that I passed this morning, 2 had a form of lipgloss or lipstick in one hand and eyes to the rearview mirror with an imaginary guide in the other. 4 or them were putting mascara on and 3 others were putting on some type of foundation or concealer on. The other women seemed put together, but I am guessing they had longer commutes and so put their faces on earlier in their drive. I'm just saying, if I was making laws- 1. I'd be immune so it would be ok to pass it since I was one of the women putting on mascara this morning, but 2. the state would be making money!! It is so much easier to see a tool of face perfecting than a quick finger text. I'm looking out for the red lipstick, the black mascara and the fit me foundation. You know it is going to happen, every morning, the finishing touches. You'd get more tickets by 8:30 than the rest of the week will produce outside of those early don't look at my face yet hours. Check out your morning commute. Tell me you don't see the face application in process. If you don't then you may need to be ticketed for driving with a vision impairment. Suspension. Sorry.
So today was a weird day. I mean I know it was Monday, but it was weird.
I dealt with my first HIV positive patient today and I was more than nervous that the patient would be losing it and then I would lose it and that we would both have to be restrained and calmed down and walked over to CPAP at the hospital next door. Luckily that didn't happen and the patient took the news remarkably well. The scariest thing though was knowing that after the situation, my fears would subside and I would calm while the patient would have to hold onto the fear that I briefly felt and that my fleeting moments would become their life. A cyclical thought that I only had until broken by the end of the session. The patients is now for life. HIV is no longer the death sentence it once was, but it does not change how earth shattering its realization, its transmission/conception is. This patient was so concerned about not being able to live the life that was planned and dreamt of and it was so disheartening to hear that. A middle aged woman speaking of what she should have done and how she knew better and how she dealt with a Jerk-off McGee and it was crazy to hear her talking the way she was and it doesn't matter your age. Unless you decide and truly choose to do better, then you will always let yourself be run down by less than what you deserve and in the end no matter which way it shows itself, it will always hurt and it will be lasting. Some longer than others, but the banged up knees and dirty laundry will always stick around somehow.
Gotta learn while we can because one day the test is going to come.
So after that, I had a lot of antsy energy because my mind was on overload mode and I couldn't really talk to anyone about it, that happens more often than I would like it to and I was just being so silly, but I wasn't feeling like happy silly, I just didn't know what to do with my fidgety-ness. So I finally calm down, decide to go eat and then yup, distracted. My food was great-pizza is always good-such comfort food, but then as I am calming down here comes one of the providers.
Now I feel bad because when this provider talks, I can never understand him unless I only focus on him and each and every word that he is saying. If I don't do this and I miss the first and the third word, then it is over and you have lost me. Well I am reading TIME magazine and he starts talking to me and I have no idea what he said so I just say anything and I think he knows I can't understand him so he just gave up, but then as I go back to reading, my senses are assaulted by the scents of his food. Now some of it smelled mighty good, but I didn't bother to look up as I didn't want to make eye contact and invite more conversation so I didn't, but then all of a sudden all I can hear now is the gnashing of his teeth against his food and it doesn't stop. I thought it was going to, but it didn't. Why do you sound like a cow has taken over your body? What is that about?! So after about 15 minutes of the cud chewing I couldn't take it anymore and I had to leave.
The day was just crazy. I left work an hour late and have to be to work half an hour earlier than I usually am and no not the on time time, but half an to the time that I am supposed to really be there. What to do what to do.
I also realize that I love to go thrift store shopping and that old people had/have good taste. I like that they give their clothes away and I feel bad because all I can think about is that my one friend once said that thrift stores smell like dead people and that's whose clothes I am trying on. How creep of thought is that? Creep. That's how.
Anyways, not much else happened with the day. Maybe tomorrow will be more exciting.
Keep your fingers crossed. x
So today on my way to work I was thinking of something to write about and as I was on my way to work placing the finishing touches on my face I realize that there shouldn't be a law against texting and driving, there should be a law against women putting their faces on in the morning and driving. Of the fifteen or so women in cars that I passed this morning, 2 had a form of lipgloss or lipstick in one hand and eyes to the rearview mirror with an imaginary guide in the other. 4 or them were putting mascara on and 3 others were putting on some type of foundation or concealer on. The other women seemed put together, but I am guessing they had longer commutes and so put their faces on earlier in their drive. I'm just saying, if I was making laws- 1. I'd be immune so it would be ok to pass it since I was one of the women putting on mascara this morning, but 2. the state would be making money!! It is so much easier to see a tool of face perfecting than a quick finger text. I'm looking out for the red lipstick, the black mascara and the fit me foundation. You know it is going to happen, every morning, the finishing touches. You'd get more tickets by 8:30 than the rest of the week will produce outside of those early don't look at my face yet hours. Check out your morning commute. Tell me you don't see the face application in process. If you don't then you may need to be ticketed for driving with a vision impairment. Suspension. Sorry.
So today was a weird day. I mean I know it was Monday, but it was weird.
I dealt with my first HIV positive patient today and I was more than nervous that the patient would be losing it and then I would lose it and that we would both have to be restrained and calmed down and walked over to CPAP at the hospital next door. Luckily that didn't happen and the patient took the news remarkably well. The scariest thing though was knowing that after the situation, my fears would subside and I would calm while the patient would have to hold onto the fear that I briefly felt and that my fleeting moments would become their life. A cyclical thought that I only had until broken by the end of the session. The patients is now for life. HIV is no longer the death sentence it once was, but it does not change how earth shattering its realization, its transmission/conception is. This patient was so concerned about not being able to live the life that was planned and dreamt of and it was so disheartening to hear that. A middle aged woman speaking of what she should have done and how she knew better and how she dealt with a Jerk-off McGee and it was crazy to hear her talking the way she was and it doesn't matter your age. Unless you decide and truly choose to do better, then you will always let yourself be run down by less than what you deserve and in the end no matter which way it shows itself, it will always hurt and it will be lasting. Some longer than others, but the banged up knees and dirty laundry will always stick around somehow.
Gotta learn while we can because one day the test is going to come.
So after that, I had a lot of antsy energy because my mind was on overload mode and I couldn't really talk to anyone about it, that happens more often than I would like it to and I was just being so silly, but I wasn't feeling like happy silly, I just didn't know what to do with my fidgety-ness. So I finally calm down, decide to go eat and then yup, distracted. My food was great-pizza is always good-such comfort food, but then as I am calming down here comes one of the providers.
Now I feel bad because when this provider talks, I can never understand him unless I only focus on him and each and every word that he is saying. If I don't do this and I miss the first and the third word, then it is over and you have lost me. Well I am reading TIME magazine and he starts talking to me and I have no idea what he said so I just say anything and I think he knows I can't understand him so he just gave up, but then as I go back to reading, my senses are assaulted by the scents of his food. Now some of it smelled mighty good, but I didn't bother to look up as I didn't want to make eye contact and invite more conversation so I didn't, but then all of a sudden all I can hear now is the gnashing of his teeth against his food and it doesn't stop. I thought it was going to, but it didn't. Why do you sound like a cow has taken over your body? What is that about?! So after about 15 minutes of the cud chewing I couldn't take it anymore and I had to leave.
The day was just crazy. I left work an hour late and have to be to work half an hour earlier than I usually am and no not the on time time, but half an to the time that I am supposed to really be there. What to do what to do.
I also realize that I love to go thrift store shopping and that old people had/have good taste. I like that they give their clothes away and I feel bad because all I can think about is that my one friend once said that thrift stores smell like dead people and that's whose clothes I am trying on. How creep of thought is that? Creep. That's how.
Anyways, not much else happened with the day. Maybe tomorrow will be more exciting.
Keep your fingers crossed. x
Friday, October 14, 2011
Headaches
I have been awake since 6:30. It is currently 7:20. I need to be to work no later than 9 this morning. I am sure that I will still be late. I haven't showered yet and I am sitting in clothes that still should not be on my body. I think I will go for a run to clear my mind and come back to this. Give me something to write about.
Ok... I'm back.
On my run I was thinking, as I was doing my Rocky hands in the air, so happy I am done with this damn exercising thing, that how unfair it is that boys do not have to worry about things that I feel no one should have to worry about aka hair. Shaving hair away to be exact.
When I lifted my arms after my Rocky I felt slightly embarrassed seeing that I haven't shaved my armpits in over a week now so they are looking a bit unruly. I then realized that I need not worry as no one was in my immediate vacinity and even if they were I was moving too quickly and the sweat on my face would have been more than enough of a distraction to keep a stranger passer-byer from staring into the forest of my armpits. Yes, I was in the clear.
Now I began to get angry because here I am 24 years old, wait, I'm 23. Damn, that keeps happening. How come I can't remember my age? Ever? Ok, right back to the hair. So... my 17 year old brother, his armpits are disgusting and hairy and gross, I could braid the hair under there. You should also see his legs, they look like a monkey's back. Now mind you, I never quite get that bad, but I wish that I didn't have to shave my legs or my armpits or my stomach or my under area or any place for that matter. I got lucky. I'm a low maintenance gal and so I don't do the mustache(even though I must confess I have me a five o'clock shadow right above my lip), I don't do the eyebrows. My finger hair is still intact. My arm hair hasn't been so much as combed over. The hair on my toes does get shaved every once and awhile though because I gotta say, you don't always notice it, but when you do, that squish face is quick to appear across your visage. I don't like the feel of the squish face. Not pleasant.
But that is besides the point!! The hairiest of our species get to keep it like mementos and little novelties. Who wants a keepsake of hair clumps in their mouth or stubble burn after making out? But apparently male is synonymous with you don't have to shave. Is it because we expect it? Is it because it is considered ok? I'm just saying. If you get to grow a beard then my happy trail is making a comeback, because you hear that? Happy trail aka makes me happy. If boys don't have to shave their legs unless it is a special occasion like them being on the Olympic swim team then I shouldn't have to shave mine unless it is your birthday, Valentine's Day, or some sort of anniversary.
I mean why do I always have to be on call as a female? Always trimmed up and always as hairless as possible? I just don't see the point. It's not like people are seeing me naked everyday at some point during the day. No, my clothes stay on. I mean if you want to do things which would cause me to raise my arms or show my legs or show you my nether region, I'm just gonna say-gimme a heads up. Gimme some forewarning. Then, because it is what is expected of me, maybe I will go ahead and do some trimming to not embarrass myself and please you at the same time. I mean just how many designs can I configure my pubic hair into? Are you really even paying that much attention? You know I put my initials in there? Or are those your initials? My moms'? Ooh... I can't remember. Don't worry about it. I'll just go for a landing strip or maybe a diamond or something. I mean, do you have any ideas? No, no you don't. Leave that up to me right? And then again, on top of it, If I were to show up looking like I have a National Forest as the capital of my downstairs you'd flip. Just part the trees. There is always good stuff under the brush. Push the tree branches out of your way. What do you think they did in the olden days? At least I shower (fairly) regularly. Gheeze.
Ok, enough of the hair rant, you already know that if you come to this neck of the woods, I may have hair on my legs, under my arms, and above my top lip. You got lucky because it doesn't grow on my back or under my chin. Yes, thank God. I already have.
Now to present day issues. I think that babysitting is the best and most immediate, not to mention cost effective, means of birth control. I don't want kids. Not right now. Not right ever I'm pretty sure and right now the way my head is feeling is out of control. Kids screaming, kids kicking, kids dropping things and the alarm that is going off in my ear right now. I feel like it is a fire alarm at an elementary school with the lights and the flashing and the screaming and the kicking and oh my goodness. What did I do today? I mean I got my work done. I did lots of work. I cleaned off my desk. I barely used my phone and although I was late, not by much. Only 20 minutes. Please children. Let the babysitter live. Please alarm, stop going off aka eff you Brinks. Make it stop!!
I feel like I am dying. I feel like my brain is going to shortly explode and spray itself across the walls of this house. That wouldn't be too good. My throat is scratching the saliva that is being forced down it. My nose feels like Pinocchio's nose aka not attached to my face and my temples feel like someone is drilling plutonium filled screws into my skull. What is that about?!
Did I ever say that I complain a lot?
Well why stop now?
My heart is still achey. My head is achey. I think I am falling apart. I feel like the tin man or a jungle gym since there are little children running about me and pulling at my parts.
Lol and one of the kids just farted. They are blaming it on the dogs. Highlight of the night. I lied, we also made lunch bag puppets. Cutest thing ever. I love kids, I just can't have my own. Because after the moment of cute, all I am hearing is I tooted over and over again with mouth fart noises. Any other day I would be making fart noises right along, but today even the bass from the tv which I didn't know existed is hurting my head.
Please, someone put me out of my misery. Thank God for Sponge Bob.
Ok... I'm back.
On my run I was thinking, as I was doing my Rocky hands in the air, so happy I am done with this damn exercising thing, that how unfair it is that boys do not have to worry about things that I feel no one should have to worry about aka hair. Shaving hair away to be exact.
When I lifted my arms after my Rocky I felt slightly embarrassed seeing that I haven't shaved my armpits in over a week now so they are looking a bit unruly. I then realized that I need not worry as no one was in my immediate vacinity and even if they were I was moving too quickly and the sweat on my face would have been more than enough of a distraction to keep a stranger passer-byer from staring into the forest of my armpits. Yes, I was in the clear.
Now I began to get angry because here I am 24 years old, wait, I'm 23. Damn, that keeps happening. How come I can't remember my age? Ever? Ok, right back to the hair. So... my 17 year old brother, his armpits are disgusting and hairy and gross, I could braid the hair under there. You should also see his legs, they look like a monkey's back. Now mind you, I never quite get that bad, but I wish that I didn't have to shave my legs or my armpits or my stomach or my under area or any place for that matter. I got lucky. I'm a low maintenance gal and so I don't do the mustache(even though I must confess I have me a five o'clock shadow right above my lip), I don't do the eyebrows. My finger hair is still intact. My arm hair hasn't been so much as combed over. The hair on my toes does get shaved every once and awhile though because I gotta say, you don't always notice it, but when you do, that squish face is quick to appear across your visage. I don't like the feel of the squish face. Not pleasant.
But that is besides the point!! The hairiest of our species get to keep it like mementos and little novelties. Who wants a keepsake of hair clumps in their mouth or stubble burn after making out? But apparently male is synonymous with you don't have to shave. Is it because we expect it? Is it because it is considered ok? I'm just saying. If you get to grow a beard then my happy trail is making a comeback, because you hear that? Happy trail aka makes me happy. If boys don't have to shave their legs unless it is a special occasion like them being on the Olympic swim team then I shouldn't have to shave mine unless it is your birthday, Valentine's Day, or some sort of anniversary.
I mean why do I always have to be on call as a female? Always trimmed up and always as hairless as possible? I just don't see the point. It's not like people are seeing me naked everyday at some point during the day. No, my clothes stay on. I mean if you want to do things which would cause me to raise my arms or show my legs or show you my nether region, I'm just gonna say-gimme a heads up. Gimme some forewarning. Then, because it is what is expected of me, maybe I will go ahead and do some trimming to not embarrass myself and please you at the same time. I mean just how many designs can I configure my pubic hair into? Are you really even paying that much attention? You know I put my initials in there? Or are those your initials? My moms'? Ooh... I can't remember. Don't worry about it. I'll just go for a landing strip or maybe a diamond or something. I mean, do you have any ideas? No, no you don't. Leave that up to me right? And then again, on top of it, If I were to show up looking like I have a National Forest as the capital of my downstairs you'd flip. Just part the trees. There is always good stuff under the brush. Push the tree branches out of your way. What do you think they did in the olden days? At least I shower (fairly) regularly. Gheeze.
Ok, enough of the hair rant, you already know that if you come to this neck of the woods, I may have hair on my legs, under my arms, and above my top lip. You got lucky because it doesn't grow on my back or under my chin. Yes, thank God. I already have.
Now to present day issues. I think that babysitting is the best and most immediate, not to mention cost effective, means of birth control. I don't want kids. Not right now. Not right ever I'm pretty sure and right now the way my head is feeling is out of control. Kids screaming, kids kicking, kids dropping things and the alarm that is going off in my ear right now. I feel like it is a fire alarm at an elementary school with the lights and the flashing and the screaming and the kicking and oh my goodness. What did I do today? I mean I got my work done. I did lots of work. I cleaned off my desk. I barely used my phone and although I was late, not by much. Only 20 minutes. Please children. Let the babysitter live. Please alarm, stop going off aka eff you Brinks. Make it stop!!
I feel like I am dying. I feel like my brain is going to shortly explode and spray itself across the walls of this house. That wouldn't be too good. My throat is scratching the saliva that is being forced down it. My nose feels like Pinocchio's nose aka not attached to my face and my temples feel like someone is drilling plutonium filled screws into my skull. What is that about?!
Did I ever say that I complain a lot?
Well why stop now?
My heart is still achey. My head is achey. I think I am falling apart. I feel like the tin man or a jungle gym since there are little children running about me and pulling at my parts.
Lol and one of the kids just farted. They are blaming it on the dogs. Highlight of the night. I lied, we also made lunch bag puppets. Cutest thing ever. I love kids, I just can't have my own. Because after the moment of cute, all I am hearing is I tooted over and over again with mouth fart noises. Any other day I would be making fart noises right along, but today even the bass from the tv which I didn't know existed is hurting my head.
Please, someone put me out of my misery. Thank God for Sponge Bob.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Last Resort
It is currently 8:30 in the morning. I realize that I haven't shared in awhile and I blame work. Work is where I get my best venting slash complaining out because that is the one place, the place where I spend the most of my waking hours which then leads me to vent slash complain, aka I hate my job. I blame work for not sharing because I used to write my blog at work. Instead of being fired for writing my blog at work, which I may have preferred, my internet was suspended as apparently this blog site nearly made our server crash. Thank God I am on a Mac now. Stupid PC. I lied I love PCs. They make my life simple besides, I am way too computer illiterate to walk through life trying to figure out high tech stuff aka I have no choice but to love PCs. Happens.
Ok, so back to work. I can't write my blog there, but that is the time when I need it the most. Why it almost made the server crash, I'm not sure, all I know is that I can't write and express myself, but half the building in the administrative wing can sit on Facebook all day? Doesn't Facebook have a glorious amount of spam and server crashing possibilities up its sleeve? Really? Only my life source blog makes things crash? Lame.
So this weekend I found myself in Atlanta for Pride weekend and to celebrate a friend's birthday which was the weekend before. Can I say I maybe should have gotten flight cancellation insurance and cancelled my flight? What a hot mess I was. The first night I get there, things are crazy, it felt like cabin fever. My one friend lost her wallet which led to a conspiracy theory that still to this day has not been uncovered. We drank our lives away and of course I hadn't eaten so my life drinking resulted in life upchucking and also tears. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I cried. I cried my little eyes out so badly because I was in love or loved, or liked a lot or whatever. I really liked someone and I clearly didn't know what to do with it, because instead of acting like an adult, I was little kid crying on the bathroom floor of a hotel room kissing the porcelain throne. Who does that? I do that.
Needless to say I am an embarrassment to myself, but at the end of my little kid cry, when the culprit left the room, oh right, yes the person who I was crying over was most definitely right in my face, when they left I not only cried harder, but sound effect cried. You know the cry with the sob in between? Serious crying, had to catch my breath hard to talk, I look like shit crying. Never again. You would think that crying like that would possess special powers though because it takes so much out of a person. Let me tell you, save it, because there are no such special powers except for the uncanny ability to make you look pathetically unstable and desperado. You don't want that. It's not a good look for anyone.
So the following night, things are better, I've got my cry out, so I should be good right? Wrong. My feelings didn't just go away and the night before plus earlier that day have done nothing but made my head reel and I am more confused than ever with questions and questions and I am going to be late to work seeing that I need to be there in 19 minutes, still haven't even showered. But that is besides the point. So the next night I get grilled, you could have served me for a healthy dinner because that is how well done I was. Out of control. Grilled about nonsense and no matter what my answer, no matter how many languages I could have spoken it in (not very many), my answer wasn't good enough and thus couldn't possibly be believed. Shame.
Ok, you wonder shame, I liked so hard in this situation that I was acting like I was superman, acting like I was going to stop the world just for some extra time with this girl. No point in stopping the world if no one is going to notice.
It's funny though because us girls, yes I will go right here in this category, we say that all we want is someone good, but let that someone good come around, then we ignore the shit out of them, not to mention treat them like shit because if someone is nice, things are confusing, nice isn't nice. Nice isn't fun. Nice isn't what we really want, because as soon as Jerk-off McGee comes along, that is who we are falling for. That is who we are in it to win it for, but for what? For lonely nights and missed phone calls? For shed tears that fall upon calloused eyes and deafened ears? To feel nothing but a love unrequited that runs deeper than one's essence.
That to me is no way to feel and that to me is nothing to deal with. I know I'm not the best, but I deserve better. One should never have to settle for something that doesn't make them feel good and feel satisfied, no matter how much they want someone, because if they deserve you, they will appreciate your try. It won't just be one sided.
I had to learn this the hard way. Funny thing is that I am always learning this the hard way. I continually think that one day I will be enough for a Jack-off McGee and time and time again, I am proven wrong. It just has taken some time for me to see that it isn't me that isn't enough. I just need to stop lowering my standards, stop placing myself below par to fit to people who don't match me.
Have you ever heard of the phrase "have your cake and eat it to?" Well I had a friend who told her significant other that and he became confused saying that of course if I have cake I'm going to want to eat it too, what does that mean?! So my friend explained it like this, you want your cake, cookies, pie, tarts, you want it all. Then he understood. We have this tendency of liking these people who are unwilling to give us anything in return, but because we like them so much we stick around. We deal, convinced that one day things will get better. It is like setting a feast for the person. You want to please them and do everything you can for the person that you set up a feast for them (usually you and others) and instead of sitting down at the table with them like equals you are on hands and knees begging for whatever scraps they care to share, but because you have put so much work and time into preparing the meal (the relationship) and you like the person sooooo much, you are willing to take whatever they give you because at least it is a piece.
Well, I have decided that I am tired of settling for scraps and acting like a beggar. There are too many people who would like to sit down to dinner and share with me instead of throwing me scraps. So ready to be on the same page. Finished one book. Time to start another although, that last story really threw me. I think I might just do some writing of my own this time. I can't bear right now to have another's input. Some stories will do that to you.
I'm just waiting for my happy ending. That or my loft and three cats. Whichever comes first.
Ok, so back to work. I can't write my blog there, but that is the time when I need it the most. Why it almost made the server crash, I'm not sure, all I know is that I can't write and express myself, but half the building in the administrative wing can sit on Facebook all day? Doesn't Facebook have a glorious amount of spam and server crashing possibilities up its sleeve? Really? Only my life source blog makes things crash? Lame.
So this weekend I found myself in Atlanta for Pride weekend and to celebrate a friend's birthday which was the weekend before. Can I say I maybe should have gotten flight cancellation insurance and cancelled my flight? What a hot mess I was. The first night I get there, things are crazy, it felt like cabin fever. My one friend lost her wallet which led to a conspiracy theory that still to this day has not been uncovered. We drank our lives away and of course I hadn't eaten so my life drinking resulted in life upchucking and also tears. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I cried. I cried my little eyes out so badly because I was in love or loved, or liked a lot or whatever. I really liked someone and I clearly didn't know what to do with it, because instead of acting like an adult, I was little kid crying on the bathroom floor of a hotel room kissing the porcelain throne. Who does that? I do that.
Needless to say I am an embarrassment to myself, but at the end of my little kid cry, when the culprit left the room, oh right, yes the person who I was crying over was most definitely right in my face, when they left I not only cried harder, but sound effect cried. You know the cry with the sob in between? Serious crying, had to catch my breath hard to talk, I look like shit crying. Never again. You would think that crying like that would possess special powers though because it takes so much out of a person. Let me tell you, save it, because there are no such special powers except for the uncanny ability to make you look pathetically unstable and desperado. You don't want that. It's not a good look for anyone.
So the following night, things are better, I've got my cry out, so I should be good right? Wrong. My feelings didn't just go away and the night before plus earlier that day have done nothing but made my head reel and I am more confused than ever with questions and questions and I am going to be late to work seeing that I need to be there in 19 minutes, still haven't even showered. But that is besides the point. So the next night I get grilled, you could have served me for a healthy dinner because that is how well done I was. Out of control. Grilled about nonsense and no matter what my answer, no matter how many languages I could have spoken it in (not very many), my answer wasn't good enough and thus couldn't possibly be believed. Shame.
Ok, you wonder shame, I liked so hard in this situation that I was acting like I was superman, acting like I was going to stop the world just for some extra time with this girl. No point in stopping the world if no one is going to notice.
It's funny though because us girls, yes I will go right here in this category, we say that all we want is someone good, but let that someone good come around, then we ignore the shit out of them, not to mention treat them like shit because if someone is nice, things are confusing, nice isn't nice. Nice isn't fun. Nice isn't what we really want, because as soon as Jerk-off McGee comes along, that is who we are falling for. That is who we are in it to win it for, but for what? For lonely nights and missed phone calls? For shed tears that fall upon calloused eyes and deafened ears? To feel nothing but a love unrequited that runs deeper than one's essence.
That to me is no way to feel and that to me is nothing to deal with. I know I'm not the best, but I deserve better. One should never have to settle for something that doesn't make them feel good and feel satisfied, no matter how much they want someone, because if they deserve you, they will appreciate your try. It won't just be one sided.
I had to learn this the hard way. Funny thing is that I am always learning this the hard way. I continually think that one day I will be enough for a Jack-off McGee and time and time again, I am proven wrong. It just has taken some time for me to see that it isn't me that isn't enough. I just need to stop lowering my standards, stop placing myself below par to fit to people who don't match me.
Have you ever heard of the phrase "have your cake and eat it to?" Well I had a friend who told her significant other that and he became confused saying that of course if I have cake I'm going to want to eat it too, what does that mean?! So my friend explained it like this, you want your cake, cookies, pie, tarts, you want it all. Then he understood. We have this tendency of liking these people who are unwilling to give us anything in return, but because we like them so much we stick around. We deal, convinced that one day things will get better. It is like setting a feast for the person. You want to please them and do everything you can for the person that you set up a feast for them (usually you and others) and instead of sitting down at the table with them like equals you are on hands and knees begging for whatever scraps they care to share, but because you have put so much work and time into preparing the meal (the relationship) and you like the person sooooo much, you are willing to take whatever they give you because at least it is a piece.
Well, I have decided that I am tired of settling for scraps and acting like a beggar. There are too many people who would like to sit down to dinner and share with me instead of throwing me scraps. So ready to be on the same page. Finished one book. Time to start another although, that last story really threw me. I think I might just do some writing of my own this time. I can't bear right now to have another's input. Some stories will do that to you.
I'm just waiting for my happy ending. That or my loft and three cats. Whichever comes first.
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