frustration

Okay, so it has been about 72 hours since my last cigarette. This was probably not the time to quit either, end of school stuff, work stuff, drama because of certain people...I really should have put off quitting until after the 15th

wedding bells

I went to a wedding last night and it was beautiful. Everything about it was perfect: short ceremony, open bar, great grub. And the couple were so thoughtful about everything, they even had a kid's menu choice of chicken fingers and mac&cheese. So I realized that I have no fancy-pants etiquette. I mean I know more than some, I know the hoity-toity wine ordering and tasting song and dance at restaraunts and I generally choose the right fork (mostly because of a scene in Pretty Woman) for my meal, although I have gotten in actual arguments about which fork is the salad fork. But wedding etiquette, I have absolutely no clue about. I can actually count on one hand the number of weddings I have been to. Most people I know just opt for the court-house with a fancy wedding to following later (which invariably I have moved by the time that one happens). So last night I had to keep asking my friend Katie what to do, did I have to show my invitation to get in the door, do I actually have to wait for the usher to show me my seat, do I have to tip the bartender at the open bar? And the picture taking thing is weird too. In Korea, they do the picture taking days, even weeks, before the wedding and go to some amazing lush location like a park or national monument. It was all very confusing, I must have missed the day in class they taught all this to everybody else...it was probably the day I skipped to go buy comic books instead.

sleep is for sissies

I don't think I have gotten more than eight hours of sleep this holiday weekend in total. Between working and yardwork and hanging out with friends I haven't gotten a good night of shut-eye, either that or I am getting old and requiring less sleep than usual. Maybe I need to get black-out curtains or something, but the lack of sleep has been worth it because I've learned a lot.
1. Pre-teen chick-flicks are still satisfying even today, especially when they are ripped right out of the pages of a John Hughes movie. We watched Sleepover and it was super corny. It had elements of Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink. But we still liked it...probably a lot more than I should admit to! And being a fourteen year old girl in the movies is WAY better than it even was in reality.
2. 3D Pixar movies are AWESOME!!! We watched Polar Express in 3D last night and it was AMAZING. Every time I watch one of those movies I am really impressed at how lifelike they make things and then the 3D just made it incredible. Although I wouldn't suggest sitting too close to the screen, it gave me a headache and a neckache. Also bring some anti-bacterial wipes with you if you are a germ-phobe like myself. They have actual glasses (not the paper one with one blue eye and one red eye from yesteryear) that they give to you when you get there and you return when you leave, somehow I doubt they get cleaned between every use. When we were walking out we did hear somebody say "I thought that movie would have something to do with polar bears," sometimes people are kinda dumb and that is always good for a laugh.
3. My dog is a good litmus test for friendship. People who like him end up becoming good friends; people who don't, eventually those friendships go sour (and not BECAUSE of the dog, it is just a trend I'm noticing). This has been the case for the duration of my puppy's existence. I wonder what that's all about? Are we a world divided into two camps, cat-people and dog-people? What about the people who don't like either, what happens to them? Is there a whole camp of people who hate everything four-legged and furry and is it full of people who suck? Maybe it just boils down to this, Iniki is like my kid, maybe even a reflection of the kind of person I am, so if you don't like him then you can't really like me 'cause we're a package deal.

aftermath

I had a nice Thanksgiving. My friend's family was lovely and I got to see some high school pictures of my friend, which is always fun. No matter how cool you were in high school, looking at pictures ten years later involves just a smidge of shame, after all no amount of protesting "But it WAS IN STYLE" can explain your penchant for Cross Colors or your addiction to rugby shirts (although B. didn't show any signs of these fashion faux paux, he just looked really young). Back to Thanksgiving. I managed to not indulge in most of the seven deadlies, no gluttony for me thanks. Since I was at somebody else's house I had to control my desire to start my own pie-eating contest with me as the only contestant. It was hard though, B.'s mom made home-made pecan pie and it was just too good!!! And Grandma Cathy was a hoot! I can't wait to be back in Washington next year so we can have the first honest to goodness family Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner for the first time in twelve years. How was yours?

lost & found

Today on the way back from the car repair place I decided to drive around get lost for a little bit. I like getting lost, and since I have no sense of direction it is REALLY easy for me to do. You would think it would be harder for me to get lost since I had oodles of map training in the military, but no...everything just ends up looking the same to me and I'm usually contemplating life and why I'm so fascinated with crazy people that I end up inviting them into my life way too often then is necessary for one person, so I don't notice landmarks or anything. But one thing about the suburbs that I hate when getting lost is that you ALWAYS wind up at a dead end. And if not a dead end, then definitely I'll run into a McDonalds. Those are two omnipresent facts of the burbs, going nowhere fast and being subjected to corporate gluttony.

ode to my sister

I got a birthday card (belated) and a Christmas card (super duper early) from my sister today. Being two girls really close in age, we had our moments of wishing we were the only daughter whilst growing up. But now that I've been gone for about ten years now we have a great relationship, I consider her one of my closest friends even though we don't really have a lot in common. So she is getting married, she is finally settling down after years of debauchery and mayhem. I like her fiance, he seems really nice. They are planning on having two weddings, one stateside (a white wedding) and one in Norway (a traditional Indian wedding in Norway, how cool does that sound?). I'm saving up some cash so I can go to Norway because I've never been to a Scandinavian country and I've never been to an Indian wedding. It'll be excitement and new experiences all around. I have to admit though, when I met Sofie's fiance I was a little disappointed. I thought for sure he would be this Indian dude with an accent like the Swedish chef from the muppets. Just the thought of it made me laugh, but he didn't have an accent at all. Maybe some of his relatives will though. Sofie and I decided that it was going to be hard to be serious with all that going on.
PS-the birthday card from Sofie said: Only the good die young, we bitches live forever. Oddly enough this is the second time today I've been called a bitch, but this time it was said by somebody that mattered. Besides, I've never denied being one, in fact I embrace it...I even subscribe to a magazine with that name. As a matter of fact I subscribe to one named BUST too.

reasons to become a hermit

This is going to be a long post so be forewarned.
I was really bored at school today and had a couple of hours to waste so I thought I would drive to Walgreens to get a couple of things. So I'm driving down Eastern Parkway and I see a woman (who is holding her baby daughter) get hit by a car. At first I thought maybe she fell in the street, but no a car actually hit her. I guess she crossed the street on a green light and walked in front of a bus so the driver didn't see her and hit her. So I ended up using my car to block the road so people wouldn't try and drive by while this woman was laying in the road in the middle of a crosswalk. There were a bunch of bystanders and several people called 911 but it took FOREVER for EMS and the cops to show up. When they finally show up the woman who was hit was freaking out (as well she should) and the emergency services are doing their thing. So the family of the hit-lady show up and naturally they are freaking out. One cop, who was in the ambulance (probably getting a statement) starts SCREAMING at the family. And then the cop and the woman's uncle start REALLY getting into it, the cop is SCREAMING and SHOUTING at the guy and threatening to arrest him and it was getting REALLY REALLY UGLY. I mean I know he was "doing his job" but I thought he was being totally inappropriate and it is no wonder that the police have such a bad reputation with the black community. This cop treated the family like shit. The ambulance finally moved and I drove up and since I was a witness I went to pull into a parking lot to walk over there and give the cops my contact information. There I am in the left lane waiting to turn and all of the sudden I hear the screeching of tires. I look into my rear-view mirror just in time to see a truck barrelling down at me and BAM I get rear-ended. It wasn't too bad, but it was hard enough that it popped open my trunk. We're like 1/2 block away from the original accident so I call 911 and the lady on the phone is acting retarded because I told her we were just past Shelby Road instead of Shelby Street. So one of the cops from the first accident pulls up and he files his report. But I didn't even get a copy of that report, I have to go to the police station to pick mine up. All of this was in the space of an hour. So what lessons did I learn today?
1. Don't leave campus, just be bored. Leaving campus and driving around in bad weather is NOT a good thing. I've been in three accidents in the space of two years and they all involved rear-ending (of course one time it was me doing the rear-ending but I must have been on crack that day because I still can't figure out why I hit that guy).
2. Civic responsibility DOES NOT PAY. I was just trying to be a good citizen and give my information to the cops because a. it seemed important and b. it is against the law NOT to do so in Kentucky. In the end the cop didn't even need my number because they had enough witnesses.
3. The cosmic forces of the world don't WANT me to quit smoking. Every time I think I am ready some crap happens.
4. No matter how minor the accident, you end up really shaken up. I bummed a smoke from the guy that rear-ended me and my hands were shaking so badly that I could barely pull out a smoke. That and I smoked a menthol which I hate because it tastes like you are smoking a cigarette and chewing gum at the same time.
BLECH, what a day.

wasted hours

I just watched one horrifyingly terrible movie. I mean, it had so much promise... one of the stars was somebody I was familiar with and have enjoyed his previous films, it was directed by Bertolucci, it was set in France in the late 60s so it had a kick ass soundtrack full of Hendrix and such, there was gobs of male full frontal (no pun intended har-dee-har) but it left me wondering how I was ever going to replace the hour and a half I just wasted (well maybe an hour and a quarter, I fast-forwarded through the last half-hour). That's the thing with independent flicks, you just never know whether it'll be genius or just crap. Not that that isn't the case with block-buster films, but generally you have a modicum of mind-numbing entertainment. Oh well, guess I'll have to go watch White Chicks for my primary amusement instead.

attack of the underwire

I'm trying to finish my laundry tonight as I have to work this weekend and can't be bothered to do anything worthwhile when I have to wake up before the sun even considers rising. Apparently my bras, whilst laying in my hamper, had decided to stage a ruthless and bloody coup against my panties and lingerie bag. When I opened the washing machine, it was a nightmare of gargantuan proportions. Somehow the mercenary attack prongs of my bra clasps had escaped the confines of the lingerie bag netting and there was pure mayhem. Spandex and rayon guts were spilled, elastic bands were ripped from their mothers arms and stretched into oblivion, it was sheer madness I tell you. Now I have the arduous and unfulfilling and prohibitive cost of replacing my underthings. But I might have to consider all-out segregation...no longer will brassieres be allowed to associate with panties willy-nilly...for those brassieres are pure evil. Obviously they think they're better than everybody because of their extra underwire, obviously the extra support they provide has given them some sort of god-complex and now they want to take over the panty drawer. I wonder which one was the ring-leader...was it the flowery blue number? or maybe the sports bra...I always thought that one was too serious and restrictive. All I know is they tried to annihilate my hellokitty target underoos and I tell you what, I won't stand for it, DOWN WITH BRAS! VIVE LE THONG!

the gift that keeps on giving

Overall, being a divorcee sucks. But the sympathy factor and my whoring of my situation have been phenomenally beneficial. I've gotten three, count 'em, three extensions for important class projects. I have missed a LOT of classes and some work because of my "situation." And somehow people get to feeling bad about what I'm going through and invitations for get-togethers flow like liquor at a Catholic wedding. I'm not sure how long I can use my get-out-of-school/work/jail divorce card, but it'll be good while it lasts. Also, divorce somehow magically improves your health. I've lost ten pounds without trying and my cholesterol has improved dramatically, it has dropped like 50 points in the last year which is pretty amazing, a woman I work with has tried every trick in the book to lower her cholesterol (eating cinnamon, almonds, fiber, etc) and hers has only dropped by ten. I guess that is the silver lining in my otherwise cloudy sky.

tkus (total knock ups)

I'm starting to suspect that they are putting fertility drugs in the drinking fountain water at work. No sooner than people start working in our lab, surprise, they're pregnant. This year alone I think five women have given birth, and right now at least three are pregnant. I don't know if I'm missing some gene or my parents didn't socialize me properly, but the thought of babies fills me with the same feeling I get when its time to clean up my dog's poop in the back yard. There's this one lady who hasn't been working in the lab that long, and frankly she just rubs me the wrong way. I'm not really sure what it is about her, but I find her unbearably pretentious and with nothing to show for it. Especially when she starts bragging about her kid, "my daughter is so smart, she can walk AND talk AND eat cereal with a spoon." Well yeah, she's almost three, I would hope so. But now she's knocked up again and my first thought was "Great, now she'll be twice as boring and three times as annoying." I say three times as annoying because inevitably I'll have to listen to endless hours of pregnancy stories and then all the hens will start clucking away, wanting to chime in and start a whole pissing contest about whose gestastional hemorrhoids were the biggest. It makes me want to take my plastic dining room knife and jab it in my ear repeatedly.

dream a little dream

I've always had really weird dreams, I don't know if that's because I'm in touch with my insanity or what, but when I tell people what I've dreamt about they look at me like I'm a hydra. So last night was no different, except I guess I got enough REM sleep to have and remember like three or four crazy dreams. The last one, however, was a doozie. Even I woke up like "HUH?!?! What was that about?" In my dream, I was with my family on vacation somewhere, and they decided that we HAD to go to a No Doubt concert. So being the lovely daughter/sister/aunt that I am, I agreed. So we go to this concert and it wasn't a No Doubt concert at all. It was a concert for a Christian cover band, they did really bad romantic ballads. That's not even the weirdest part, KIRK CAMERON was in the band (he played the harmonica), and he was totally dressed like a mormon missionary, khaki pants, short-sleeve white dress shirt, & skinny black tie except he was wearing those 80s sunglasses, you know the really dark black ones with the thick black plastic rims. Anyway, this concert was a Lollapalooza type of all day affair so there are intermissions and during one intermission the place totally clears out and these dogs come out of nowhere and start chasing this large herd of goats that were apparently kept in the back of the arena. It went on and on like this until I woke up, and somehow I'm pretty sure there was a whole flying sequence (with me flying like superman) and the fate of the earth in our hands kind of scenario but it would take too long to write that out. I also had a dream about Ewan McGregor but that's a whole different story altogether.

too weird to not be true

TOO WEIRD TO BE TRUE.
The strangest thing just happened to me. I signed on the AIM and Yahoo Messenger hoping that somebody would be there to IM and break the monotony of working on this damn paper (almost done, thank god) and I immediately get this message from some random Yahoo stranger saying something along the lines of "Hello maam, I am looking for a dominant woman that I can serve, I'm not just looking to cyber, this is not a joke." So I write back and ask if he's for real and how in the hell did he message me so fast because I just signed on. So he says that he wrote the message when he was offline and I probably got it as soon as I signed on. So I ask him who the hell he was and why the hell was he writing to me, but he didn't answer and that was the end of that. So I checked his profile and he is just some dumb schmuck in Louisville who I guess thought that I would be suitable for his S&M/BDSM inquiries. Here is his profile, what a psycho!!! I mean who does that, just randomly writes to somebody in the hopes that they will dress up in stilettos and leather and be his mistress. Man there are some CRAZIES out there and even online they seem to find me.

oh this pain

What does a kidney stone feel like at first? I mean I know eventually it becomes an excrutiating pain, but how does it start? I have this nagging sort of not-quite-pain in my side and I'm wondering if it is the beginnings of a kidney stone. Frankly I wouldn't be surprised since I drink WAY TOO MUCH coffee and not enough water and I know that is a definite precursor to stone formation. I hope not because the last thing I need is YET another thing keeping me from doing my crap-ass paper. Which by the by is going swimmingly since I decided to just write absolute malarkey since its just a draft anyway. I guess I can try to improve on it later, although truth be told if I just get a passing grade I'll be more than satisfied.
Another class of mine is actually pretty fun. We are doing this whole classroom simulation/mock city council. The role I chose and was assigned is that of the Owner/Operator of an adult book store and massage facility. The massage at this facility is apparently performed by "scantilly clad women" with no licenses or certification, and my joint is called Body Kneads. So there you go, I'm officially a simulated pimp, I don't need the Sims any longer. I bought a t-shirt with this logo to wear on the day we do my issue although I'm afraid I won't get it in time, so as a backup I made this flier. I know, I'm a dork!

swimming in a pool of tadpoles and bullfrogs

I'm back and still procrastinating, although I have managed to read the majority of my references so that's a plus.
I was just emailing a friend and talking about Thanksgiving plans, of which I have none. My dad was talking about coming out but couldn't find a flight and a friend invited me to his family's shindig, but I think I would feel a little out of place. So this somehow got me thinking about the dearth of people my age, particularly single people, in this area. Mostly I meet people younger than myself and people a lot older than myself. This is because I go to college and meet college aged folk and work in a field that has the highest median age of all medical occupations. Don't get me wrong I like all my friends be they younger or older than myself. But even so, you would think I could meet somebody in the Gen-X age range who doesn't have children or other obsessive familial obligations. Where are all the single 27-35 year olds in Louisville and why haven't I met them? Maybe I've just watched too many episodes of Sex and the City and somehow convinced myself that there are groups of single people hanging out, having brunch, and not talking about how their child is the SMARTEST KID EVER because they stopped wiping their poopies on the walls. And not that I'm saying that having a family is a bad thing, hey if you can get that family life to work for you then kudos. I guess I just can't shake this feeling of having this singular solitary existence. Current soundtrack of my life...the Sesame Street theme song:
Somebody come and play
Somebody come and play today
Somebody come and smile the smiles
And sing the songs
It won't take long
Somebody come and play today
Somebody come and play
Somebody come and play my way
Somebody come and rhyme the rhymes
And laugh the laughs
It won't take time
Somebody come and play today
Somebody come with me and see the pleasure in the wind
Somebody see the time is getting late to begin
Somebody come and play
Somebody come and play today
Somebody come and be my friend
And watch the sun 'til it rains again
Somebody come and play today

motormouth

Last night I was watching Vh1, since I am an old lady now and missing the requiste hip-factor to watch shows like "Please god make me look like Brad Pitt," "Turn my piece of crap auto into a car-jacking just waiting to happen," "Soft-core porn designed to look like reality tv," etc etc etc. Vh1 has this new show called Motormouth and the premise is that they get people to drive an SUV with hidden cameras (ala Taxicab Confessions) and film them singing in the car to the radio. The episode I watched was Long Island vs. Louisville. Well wouldn't you know, the girl who wins Long Island is a soul sistah shakin' her groove thang and the winner from Louisville is a big old REDNECK, complete with vaguely inbred physical features, a hick accent, and missing teeth. Way to showcase those stereotypes Vh1, maybe your next episode you can do a Compton vs. Salem show with a gangbanger stopping the singing long enough for a drive-by and a band of witches sacrificing young children in the back seat.
Hmmm, I feel a little weird being in the position of defending this place since I kind of hate it. Maturity blows.

death to star-bux

***Note, this is the second time I am writing this entry because stupid Internet Explorer shut down before I could publish the first one.
The fascist corporate coffee pimp has done it again. Today was such a beautiful day outside that I decided to take Iniki to the park. On the way I decided to go and get a coffee since I have somehow devolved into a surburbanite butthead. So I'm walking out of the store and fumbling for my keys when the lid pops off and SPLASH coffee everywhere. There was coffee running down the side of my car like a waterfall of polluted water, there was coffee on my pants (although not near the crotch so it didn't look like I had an accident), and coffee all over my hands (which are covered in sores thanks to the last time I was motivated enough to do yard work, and needless to say the coffee hit those sores and BURNED like a mother). So I clean up the mess with the environmentally friendly napkins (probably made by third world children for ten cents a week) and wash my hands and head to the park before Iniki has a puppy-sized aneurysm at the exciting prospect of actually leaving the house. Whilst driving I try to pick up the cup for a sip and off pops the top AGAIN, spilling all over my handbrake and drink holders. So in two-three days I expect some major mechanical malfunction because whatever bits and pieces make up my parking break are now covered in coffee/syrup goo. But despite Starbucks' and my bad charma with one another, I will probably be standing in line tomorrow morning ordering one of the few legal addictions I have. Maybe I should start drinking tea?

the edge of reason

I saw Bridget Jones Part II today. And as we walked out we had to check and make sure it was a different movie, it was EXACTLY like part one. But it was still cute and funny and generally worth the matinee movie price we paid. I wondered how they would approach the movie script since they obviously couldn't have Bridget interviewing Colin Firth when he was playing Mark Darcy. But she did end up going to Thailand and getting arrested for drug smuggling (ooops, I guess that could be a spoiler if you haven't read the book). Her prison experience was a lot different than the movie "Broken Down House." Teaching Thai girls to sing Madonna is way different than having roaches crawl into your ear and making you sick. Anyway, cute movie, you'll probably like it if you like the first one since it is an EXACT replica.
Also, today I managed to get over a little bit and that always makes me happy. The other week I ran my tire along a curb trying to get out of this super small parking space. Today I had a flat that a fellow driver pointed out because I'm an idiot and didn't notice. So I went back to Sam's Club (where the hot guy was NOT present) and told them that I didn't know what happened. They chalked it up to a manufacturers defect and gave me a free replacement. WOOOHOOO.

breathe, count to ten

Whew, was I pissed last night. Just rereading that entry makes my blood start to curdle like the two month past the expiration date milk I probably have in my refrigerator. But you know even after sleeping on it and venting and ranting about it a few times, I still don't get it. I'm a pessimist without a doubt, and I've had days of feeling like the whole world was trying to keep me down but when it becomes your whole life's mission to prove that people hate you...well frankly you might as well don the flight suit and hang the "Mission Accomplished" banner because life is full of adversity and there will always be times when it seems like you can't win for losing. Damn man, maybe there will never be a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow but at least there's a freakin' rainbow. So now I think I need to do a more careful screening of people I consider my friends because I've been bitch slapped with the cold hard truth about the chasm between my values about friendship and other people's far too many times these last few months. Stick a fork in me cause I'm DONE.

twisted perceptions

Okay, you know I can deal with a lot of things. I can deal with people who don't like me, no problem. I can deal with people who get hurt feelings, no problem. I can deal with miscommunication, no problem. But one thing I CANNOT AND WILL NOT DEAL WITH is blatantly false accusations. You know you try not to listen to the hype, try not to let other people's perceptions of a person skew your own opinion, but sometimes I think some people go out of their way to prove that they are in fact the person everybody else told you they were. Okay, I've said before that I am definitely a judgemental person. But even when I try not to let that get the best of me, inevitably it wins out because some people just cannot get over themselves and their small little frame of reference that all people must fit into or perish into the oblivion of people who have upset them. Generally I think I am a pretty good friend, but there is only SO MUCH I will put up with and then I have to cut a person loose because I'm not going to be dragged into the abyss of somebody else's misery, I have my own shit to worry about. Man, I am so ticked off right now and usually I would be all about confrontation about it, but I'm going to give exactly what I got cause the milk is spilled and I'm not crying over it one damn bit.

the final countdown

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!! I'm 29, the final years before I enter the tail spin known as middle-age. My life is nothing like I thought it would be when I was younger, I don't know if that's good, bad, or generally just the way it is supposed to be.

Iniki wished me a happy birthday AND got me a present too. A big DEAD RAT!!! I cleaned it up and now have to wait a few days to see if I develop the Bubonic Plague.
Katie trying on random old lady hats. We've decided that 80s pillbox hats with feathers and netting you pull over your face really NEED to come back in style.

Me at the start of my glorious day. From here we went shoe-shopping at the Zappos.com's factory outlet store (where all the shoes are 29.95). I got three pair, thanks mom!
"You can't have none of this ass!!"
We had Korean for my special dinner. As you can tell by the hot-plate, we grinded. The only thing left was the squid, we overcooked it and I'm not a big fan unless I'm really in the mood for it. It was Bobby's first time eating Korean, he was a trooper. He ate the kimchee like a champ.

addendums to the shitlist

1. Guys who agree with something completely against their ideology.
Because they would like to bang the girl who said it. Just because she's cute doesn't mean you have to pretend she's smart. If you want to lay her that badly, just spike her drink like other guys.
2. Lucky People.
Whoever found the twenty-bucks I lost last night, I hope you choke on the dinner it bought.
3. People who never speak up in class.
But after class they have a mess of opinions, if you're too cowardly to speak up when it matters, then shut your pie hole and keep it shut, it is more cowardly to only have a voice around people who agree with you then to not have a voice at all.
4. Lack of comments.
I like to get comments, it makes me feel like people are actually reading this thing.
5. Foul-ass moods for no reason.
I'm thinking I need to get over myself...I need some meditation and a valium (not necessarily in that order).

this weekend's shitlist

1. Addictions:
LisaM 0 - Cigarettes 1
2. People with pop-ups on their blogs:
If you need a song on your blog, why must you have pop-ups
3. Food Poisoning:
I just don't need that close of a relationship with my bathroom
4. Moral America:
Be concerned about how god is going to judge your own life and stop judging others' lives as well as overlooking real problems we face in this world
5. Yard Work:
Thanks to all the raking, I now have more callouses and popped open blisters than a 13 year old boy who just discovered his dad's stash of Playboys
6. Mandatory Class Attendance:
If you want people to come, then make it more interesting
7. Getting older:
One more day until I hit 29, I feel old and so far fairly unaccomplished
8. Landlords-Landladies:
Always available to pick up the rent check, never around when you need something from them
9. Loneliness:
Self-pity, the worst and most useless feeling EVER
10. Possums:
Stupid huge rat creatures creating unnecessary unease

dinner and a movie

Went to the movies last night and saw "The Motorcycle Diaries." It was a good movie. Its about Che Guevera, revolutionary. The movie is about a cross country trek, the country being South America, that he and his friend make in their younger years (about my age and the general age of the readers here I suspect). I walked out with several thoughts. First, it is one thing to notice injustice in the world but a whole different thing to actually act on it, be productive about it. Is it something within a person that makes them want to do something about rather than just see the problem? Does this something no longer exist, at least in the western world, because we once had a country full of leaders and activists that people would follow to their deaths and now we just have people willing to pursue activist causes as long as they can squeeze the time into their palm pilot schedules. My second thought was that a pair of women could probably not safely motorcycle and hitchhike their way through foreign countries, living off the kindness of strangers, and sleeping in railways and empty tool sheds. Maybe it is the paranoia, ingrained from birth about the dangers of walking around with a vagina. Maybe it really is possible for women to travel by motorcycle across a continent. Third, people just suck way more than they did in the 1950s when apparently they were friendly and helpful and decent. Now you can barely get people to look you in the eye as they pass. Anyway, I know it was a just a movie. If you get the chance, its a worthy watch but don't go sleepy because it is in subtitles.

i'm a quitter

I decided to quit smoking. Yep, after smoking for about a year (after having quit about four years before that) I've had enough retching nasty coughing fits. It has been less than twenty-four hours and I am already salivating at the thought of running off to the quickie-mart and grabbing one last pack. I may have to resort to licking my ashtray if this keeps up. I should have planned this out a little better and quit during the week so I would be busy at work or at school and not thinking about the glorious nicoctine that my body is craving right now. I hate the idea that a 2 1/2 inch cylinder of big, stinky leaves is having this much control over me. I'm glad nobody I know is a "real" smoker, mostly I know part-time smokers who only use the cigarette to balance the beer in the other hand. I probably wouldn't be able to do it if there were cigarettes all over the place.

i forgot to mention

I was checking my blog-stats, because as you are well aware I am a narcissistic megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur. Just like I predicted, somebody was conducting a random search via a search engine and they typed up "chubby dicks." And up popped my poor porno-less blog. I'm starting to feel a little skeevy about what weirdos are looking up dirty words and then checking out this site. One can only imagine what they're doing before, during, and after their search engine cruising.

mood music

I'm really feeling this music and animation right about now.

like my day needed to be worse

Okay, the shock of the day still hasn't worn off and when I left the house this morning, I thought it couldn't get any worse than it already was. OH BUT NO, I WAS DEAD WRONG. I was running a little late and walked into my first class after it had started. So I'm putting my still full venti-coffee on the desk and go to sit down, but I jostled the desk a little too much and the coffee falls over. So I tried to pick it up, catch it before it hit the ground, but somehow only managed to pop off the lid and the caffeine-crack spilled everywhere. Then I tried to stand up and get away from the coffee so it wouldn't get all over my clothes, but my foot managed to find a wet spot and TIMBER, down I go. I feel myself falling so I grab onto the desk, but the leg of the desk gets into the puddle of java and I end up taking it down too. CRASH, BANG, BOOM. The whole class stops and is staring at me, knees to the ground like I'm praying, still clutching a tipped over desk, kneeling in a huge puddle of coffee. FUCK!!! So some people ask if I'm okay but with that "I'm trying so hard not to laugh" look on their faces. I go to wash off and come back with paper-towels and the Professor stops class again to ask me what happened. So all eyes are on me again. The only way it could have been more embarrassing is if I was splayed on my back and pissed my pants at the same time. Oddly enough, this whole thing transpired at the exact moment that Kerry called Bush to concede. A sign of things to come??? (Okay, so I had to throw in some last minute election talk but it was relevant). Henceforth, to about fifteen-twenty people I will always be known as that geek who fell over in class. Fucking great.

oh canada!

So I was right, we still don't know who the president will be. I woke up this morning to find that the fate of the next four years lies in the hands of Ohio. And Ohio is slowly starting to look like the victim of a drive-by shooting...seeping into a pool of red. With a Republican President and a strongly Republican House and Senate, the next four years will be the pivotal swinging of the pendulum back into a REALLY conservative state, or maybe that already happened four years ago. You know, a rise of conservatism after a long period of liberalism is an indicator of the decline of the nation if you believe in Oswald Spengler's whole life-cycle of nations. Anyway, here's hoping that the shit-storm brewing is just my sour grapes filling me with dread. As with my former marriage, I give an oath to not talk about politics anymore, there are better sites by more informed people out there.

democracy inaction

My friend told me a disturbing story. She was working the polls and they shut down at six. They closed the doors and turned people away. Then a doctor shows up and they let him in to vote. What the hell is that about? You can turn away regular folk but not a doctor. If he was so damn busy he should have filed an absentee ballot. So are we only allowing tardiness if your job is respectable enough? I mean this was going to be a red state whether or not this guy cast his vote (assuming he was going to vote Bush, which knowing as many doctors as I have known...I would guess YES). Total vile bullshit.
So did you vote? If the answer is no, then go the hell away and never return (unless you are under 18, not a US citizen, or a felon, then you can stay). If the answer is yes but I voted for Bush, then go to hell (kidding, I swear). I'm so full of anticipation and a little bit of dread, but I doubt the election will be decided tonight.

random self-esteem boosters

Today was an interesting day. I ended up blowing off classes and running some much needed errands. First I went and sold back a bunch of my old CDs. The girl that bought them back kept going on about what a great collection I had and how she couldn't believe I was getting rid of them, cool points abounded. So I had to give them my phone number for whatever reasons companies feel the need to get your number. Before I left she said that she wanted to keep my number for her personal use as well cause she thought I was cool and "culturally aware." Plus since she liked me she gave me more bucks that she was supposed to. Now I know I shouldn't derive self-esteem from others, but damn I felt pretty good when I walked out of that store.
Then I went to Sam's Club to buy tires for my car. The guy that sold me my tires was so damn hot, he made me feel funny in my tummy. Of course he was probably only twelve or so. Well maybe twenty-one, only a few years younger than me but I still felt vaguely Mrs. Robinson about it all. He was luscious, all lips and sinewy muscles. Reooorrr. I'm going to have my tires rotated every week just because it'll give me an excuse to stalk...errrr...see him.
I didn't do anything for Halloween. I bought assloads of candy and only a few kids showed up. Now I'm stuck with a year's supply of Reese's Cups and Kit-Kats. Great, just what I need, another chin. I'm going to take it all into work, too much food temptation and mild depression is not a good combination.
Don't forget to get out and vote. I already cast my absentee ballot.