Monday, September 20, 2010

Seeing that I told you all that I would be back once school started, I'm a little behind on my posting.
Here's a little bit about what you missed while I was gone:
Alex moved in. Interning at the DA's office was so rewarding, and I am 3 weeks away from being finished. My job at JewelryShop sucks, and I hate my boss, but have made some awesome friends. I'm back in school, and the workload is a little heavy for all the things that I am juggling, but once my internship is over, I anticipate having a little more time on my hands for things such as homework. I have an interview at a nearby EB, the company that I have worked for on and off for the past five years. I am excommunicating my father, finally, after he put me through hell, worrying about whether or not I was going to have to sue him for the money that he is court ordered to pay. I'm doing some night work for the Stillings', and other than that, things are going pretty smoothly.
So, now onto school. I'm taking four classes, but only 3.5 credits. Right now, school consists of Mondays and Wednesdays, starting at 9:10 with an art class, then an English class that does a lot of reading (all Pulitzer prize-winning novels), and finally ending at 4:00 with a Personality Psychology Seminar. I love the art class, though I'm not too good with art. In fact, my latest escapade in the art world had to do with basically a white sheet of paper, colored almost all black with charcoal, except for a little bit of gray on the sides. Definitely epic. So not good. I'll post a picture later. My teacher said, just as we were leaving class, "I'm not going to grade these until Wednesday, so if you want to add anything to them..." I just thought, man, if I add anything to mine, it's just going to be one big, charcoal-y mess. When you see the picture, it will be funnier, I promise.
The literature class is also very amazing. Right now, we just finished Beloved, the book that I was trying to put off reading for the longest time because I thought it would be painful. It was, to some degree, but it was also very delightful. I had a good time reading it. It's about a ghost, basically, of a baby, who comes back to haunt her mother. Quite an interesting and original idea. Next, we're going to read the Shipping News. I've already started because I wanted to get a head start on the semester, so I bought my books about a month in advance, and started reading the one that looked most interesting. I also have to read The Road, by Cormac McCarthy, The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz, and Olive Kitteridge, by someone I can't remember the name of right at the moment.
As for personality seminar, not so much. He assigns so much reading, and most of it is really dense, so I rarely get it all done. Not only that, but I don't understand a lot of the stuff that he says, but I'm too embarrassed to ask for clarification. *shrug* I suppose I'll get through it.
Finally, I'm taking the first part of my thesis class, which is a little scary at the moment. I am so not looking forward to writing that 20 page paper next semester. I thought theses were supposed to happen when you were in grad. school! Not in undergrad! Man, if I'm stressing now, think what it will be like when I actually start writing.
Also, I feel so accomplished today. I finished most of my and AS's laundry last night, so the laundry monster of monumental proportions is finally under control again. It took 4 hours! I didn't know it was possible to have that much laundry! Since school started, it has been easier to do it. While we still don't have a car, we can walk our laundry to the school (not far from the house) and pay 5-10 dollars to do seven loads of laundry (including drying!), as opposed to the 15-20 that we were paying at the laundromat, which was also a $5.00 bus ride away.
I love this. I love the freedom that I have now, even though I am working my ass off and taking odd jobs and such. Doing my laundry outside of my home, paying rent and my own bills, and the other downfalls are just a small price to pay for my life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

It has recently hit me that I am four posts away from meeting my goal of having 200 posts, and not only that, but I haven't posted at all for the month of July. As of today, multiple things have changed in my life. AAS moved here to Collegetown a couple weeks ago, then, while setting up care with his new doctors, he landed himself in the hospital so they could kill the clots in him. So, he's been here since Tuesday, and I've been able to spend two nights with him. His family, luckily, was visiting, so they have been taking me back and forth from Collegetown to Hospitalville (an hour each way). They have been paying for dinner, they took us shopping for the things that we needed in our house.
DA internship is going extremely well, and I love some of my cases, and hate others. I can't stand my job at Zales, but I love the people I work with. Yesterday, I told my boss to not get hit by a car when she went to go get her lunch of pizza and soda. She stopped and gave me a look like, Did you really just say that? while my co-worker M. and I cracked up. I've made excellent friends with a girl named TM, soon to be TY, and ended up at a strip club for gay men, where all but one of the strippers were straight. (It was her bachelorette party). I'm totally stoked for her wedding, and also, the last wedding I went to, (LR and DH) Alex urged me to go try for the bouquet, and it's funny, because I actually caught it. Funny thing is, he's already told me he plans to propose in the next year. Freaking Awesome. :). We won't get married for a long time though, til we're 26. That way, he can stay on his parents' insurance plan in case something like this happens again. He's considering going into nursing, which I think is a good idea: more pay, better health benefits, and he'll be working in a hospital ALL THE TIME!
I love having him in the house. He's currently looking for a job, a hard thing to find in this dick-faced economy, and in the process, he cooks, he cleans, and best of all, he freaking LOVES me. And I love him... so much. Long distance worked for two years (a little less than), and now he's here, and he lives with me. *glee!*

Monday, June 21, 2010

Yo, Dudes.

I'm peacing out for the time being. I'm working at the DA's office in the Victim Assistance Division, and as a result, my life has become too interesting to write about. The other stuff is just boring in comparison, which is why I believe no one reads this damn thing. I will post random stuff here and there, but it will be rare, and I will pick up my once a week ritual when school starts again in September.
Love y'all.

Saturday, June 05, 2010


Neither of these postcards were sent in to PostSecret by me, but both of them describe pretty adequately how I feel. The one exception is that I had my loving and amazing boyfriend, and my fantastic mother as well as my TV show and movie companions. It's been a hard year, but it's looking up, folks. It's looking up.

Friday, June 04, 2010

New Place, New Life

It's been SO LONG since I posted last that I felt like I owed my one devoted reader a new article. I found myself a new place. YES! That is right. I found a new place to live, one away from the crazy old woman, one of my very own. It's very small. It's very dirty. But it's very mine. I have lots of new friends in my new place. Many of them are spiders, alive and dead. I let one live today, because my mother said that I shouldn't waste time and energy on such a small spider. I told her that the only reason I waste time and energy on even the small ones is because I don't want them to end up in my bed, which, by the way, is very close to my living room. The kitchen is attached to the living/dining area, which is attached to my bedroom, which is attached to the bathroom. I'm learning all of my new house's quirks, like not drinking the water, and that the facet leaks slightly when you turn on the cold water, and the heater makes funny noises when I turn it up past seventy (only for a moment, and I only did it as a test). Also, the kitchen smells like gas when I cook, and the cupboards and drawers really need some contact paper. My parents are coming here for my uncle's wedding in two weeks, so I'm making a list of stuff that I want them to buy me when they get here. A plug for my tub is one of those things, because the handle that is supposed to stop the water from leaking down the drain doesn't work. You are lucky if you even get it two inches full for a bath.
It's weird sleeping in my own house on my own. The first night I stayed there, I got scared, because earlier that afternoon, I had been sleeping on my newly made bed, basking in the sun, when a creepy guy knocked on my window, and asked if I wanted a beer. When I said no, he asked if I wanted a Coke. When I refused that too, he asked if I wanted an iced tea. I turned that down also. He looked unconvinced, and somewhat dejected. I closed my window and got rid of him. Later that evening, I had opened my shades again, and I caught him walking past, when he had no reason to. Creeper. So I talked to my landlord. Turns out the guy is a felon who was staying with his mom. A felon for kidnapping. Ha. No wonder the only thing he was offering me was a drink. Bastard was trying to drug me. Anyway, Landlord talked to his mom and had her kick him out. Thank goodness. I don't think I could live next to a creeper for a year.
I did all of my dishes today (that I have unpacked so far). I was shocked to see that I actually had a sink! When I was done, I had five wet dish towels on my hands, with no towel rack to hang them on. Believe me, that's on my list. I also started to clean up my living room. Now you can see slightly more dirty brown carpet than before. And no, the carpet isn't brown because it's dirty. Mom said she was going to bring a carpet cleaner down from up North when she comes in two weeks. That way, I can get my carpet cleaned without having to pay someone for it.
Best things about my new house:

  1. I can stay out as late as I want, or leave as early as I want, and I don't have to greet or bid adieu to someone I despise when I come and go.
  2. There is no biddy with unlimited access to an annoying call button on a walkie talkie that I am responsible for.
  3. I can decide what to have for dinner, at what time, and I don't have to have something from every food group on my plate.
  4. No one is around to tell me when to clean, where to clean, or how to clean.
  5. No one is around to interrupt me when I am doing something important, or something I care about, which hasn't been happening a lot lately, since all I've been doing is working at the DA's and at Zales. But still.
  6. I can shop for my own groceries, and plan meals that don't disgust me, like "Pork and ginger ragu with squash," shit like Chrys used to make when she came down from Alaska.
  7. There is no one around to correct my grammar, tell me that it's "she and I" and not "her and me".
  8. There is no one around to interrupt me when I am speaking to correct my manners. I can scratch my damn feet at the dinner table if I so choose. Oh wait... what dinner table? Oops.
  9. There is no one that I have to serve hot meals to, who will jabber on until her food gets cold, then complain passive aggressively about the cold food.
  10. I get to buy my own milk, good milk, milk that doesn't taste like it has gone bad the moment you open it.
This is the top ten. If I think of anything else, I'll add it.
Also, I think it's notable to mention that I am getting closer and closer to my 200th post, something that was on my Bucket List, a few posts back. Take a look if you don't remember, folks.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

News... and Spam

So, spam is, for the most part, untraceable, correct? Sure it is! Not. I've been getting a lot of spam in my email as of late, and I've just been clicking the unsubscribe button. But today, I noticed something funny about my spam. It had another girl's name on it. Another girl that I happened to know. It started like this:

Dear L.
Thank you for signing up for a speeddate account...

Okay.... what the fuck. First of all, my name isn't L. Secondly, I know someone named L. who would have indirect reasons to spam me (she's friends with MZ and AK). But it cant possibly be her, can it? LB? NAH! So I click on the link to investigate further, see if whoever was a douchebag put a last name down. No, there wasn't a last name, so my suspicions weren't confirmed... right away. I then noticed that I had a profile picture. I looked at the picture, and what do you know! It was a previous profile picture of the same "friend" LB on facebook. So I called her on it. I cant wait to hear what her answer is. Dumbass. If you're going to spam someone's email, at least do it in such a way that it's untraceable.

In other news, I started my new job at Zales yesterday. Good stuff, except I don't know anything. Two teenage girls walked into the store last night, and one was like, "my mom's birthday is coming up, and I want to buy her a ring." So, the jewelry consultant in me was like, great, I know nothing about jewelry right now except that it sparkles and is pretty. What would be the first question I would ask if I was legit? "What's your price range?" Great question, JA, but you don't know ANYTHING about any of this jewelry. Luckily, she said she didn't know, so I told her I would let her look around, and if she had any questions, she could ask. She didn't and left the store shortly after. I fail at consulting. But I'll get better.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Less Unfortunate

So, last week was shit week.
This week is infinitely better.
I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders
Like all my prayers have been answered.
Not only do I have a place to live
(At least for a month),
But I also landed a job,
Selling jewels and beautiful things.
I'm moving in a week.
Quitting my shitty job.
AAS is moving in in a month and a half.
Exciting to be together,
After almost two years of being apart.
The DA internship is going well,
I'm getting more and more cases every day.
Keeping busy,
Just the way I Like It.

Life is finally coming together,
Fitting all the pieces into the puzzle.
My motivation has returned.
My sense of self
My sense of accomplishment,
My sense of direction.
Things feel like they will be okay.

Monday, May 10, 2010

The Series of Unfortunate Events: My Life Edition

The one thing in the past week that hasn't sucked was the Nickelback concert, but I want to end this post on a happy note, so I'll save that bit for last.
So, the Nickelback concert was on Saturday, and when I went upstairs after dinner on Sunday, KS caught me and was like "J, we have some news for you." That's pretty much when I knew they had found someone to take my place working for MS. What she told me that the lady wanted to be moved in by the first of the month, and I realized that I only had two weeks to get a job and an apartment, that's when I panicked. So today I went job-hunting... and made quite possibly the dumbest mistake ever: I handed out resumes, and the last store I gave my resume to was the store that I realized the objective was the wrong objective. I had forgotten to proof-read it before I printed them out. And what, darlings, did that objective say, you may be asking yourselves. It said this: "To gain experience in the psychology field with victims of domestic violence, sexual assault, and young victims, while learning about the court system." I kid you not. The lady looked at me and was like, "Your objective doesn't state that you want to go into sales," with that are-you-stupid tone of voice. I had seen it before she did, and felt like an idiot already, and told her that I printed out the wrong resume. I had given out nine other resumes. Epic. Fail.
So I go home, and change, and then go to check out a house, but the renters that I would be subletting with couldn't get into the house because her freshly cut keys wouldn't work. So I took the applications on good faith that it was pretty on the inside, and with the knowledge that it's in a nice neighborhood, and went on my way to see the next little studio apartment that I had a meeting for. I was there about 20 minutes early, so I found a comfortable tree to sit against, and ended up witnessing a crime! Yeah, some kid broke the glass of a car window and jumped in and stole something. I'm a good citizen, so I called the police and filed a report. I just feel bad for the people who the car belongs to. How are they going to pay for it? Oh well, guess that will teach them for parking on the street in a sketchy neighborhood.
Now, for the Nickelback concert. Two words: Fucking. Amazing. Sick Puppies opened for them, Shinedown followed Sick Puppies, and Breaking Benjamin came third. All of them were pretty good bands. Then Nickelback took the stage. OH. MY. GOD. AWESOME! They had this curtain up around their stuff that had the Dark Horse logo displayed on it. When they started playing, fireworks went off, and I thought someone was shooting at us! Then they dropped the curtain and started their set off with the most perfect song to start a set off with, Burn it to the Ground!

"Well it's midnight, damn right, we're wound up too tight
I've got a fist full of whiskey, the bottle just bit me
That shit makes me bat shit crazy
We've got no fear, no doubt, all in balls out

We're going off tonight
To kick out every light
Take anything we want
Drink everything in sight
We're going till the world stops turning
While we burn it to the ground tonight

We're screaming like demons, swinging from the ceiling
I got a fist full of fifties, tequila just hit me
We got no class, no taste, no shirt, and shit faced
We got it lined up, shot down, firing back straight crown

We're going off tonight
To kick out every light
Take anything we want
Drink everything in sight
We're going till the world stops turning
While we burn it to the ground tonight

Ticking like a time bomb, drinking till the nights gone
Well get you hands off of this glass, last call my ass
Well no chain, no lock, and this train won't stop
We got no fear, no doubt, all in balls out!"

Totally all in balls out that night! They had THE MOST AWESOME pyrotechnics, as well as great music! They played all my favorite songs, even songs from like, ten years ago! Seriously, one of THE MOST AMAZING CONCERT EXPERIENCES OF MY LIFE! The best concert orgasm ever! Chad Kroeger was funny, telling jokes and stuff the whole time. Lighting was amazing, the band was giving away free beer and tequila to the people on the floor. It was simply AMAZING. More later.

Saturday, May 08, 2010

Know How I Thought Everything Was Going So Great? Yeah.. Not So Much

Last time I updated you, I left you with my schedule up until next Wednesday, I think (end of finals). I took my driver's test, and failed on these grounds: I signaled when I started, but I guess she didn't catch that, because she marked me down on it. She marked me down for an unnecessary stop at a corner where there was no stop sign, which I thought was unfair because there was a vehicle parked that was impeding my vision, so I couldn't see a stop sign, if there was one there, and I was therefore being a defensive driver. Apparently I didn't pay enough attention when I turned, because she marked me down for observation. She marked me down for my lane use, in both observation and position. I checked over my shoulder every time I changed lanes, but apparently she didn't get that, and when I was going down a residential street, it wasn't marked as a two-lane street, but apparently it was, because I was driving in the middle of what I thought was a one-way street, doing exactly the same thing as the guy ahead of me. That bastard made me fail! Then she said I moved into the left hand turn lane too soon, which I think was bullshit, because I entered about a car length from when the yellow lines stopped. She said I took my corners too fast, and that I sucked at backing up. And to top it all off, she took me through fucking construction! I saw the flagger, and I had time to stop, but she warned me to stop before I had the opportunity, which was my automatic failure. Thanks bitch. Have a shitty day.
So that was my driver's test. Then came my birthday. I turned 21. The first part wasn't so bad. I went out with friends who are less than 21, and we had dinner, they sang to me at Red Robin, and it was fun. After that, I had made plans to meet up with people to go to the bar for my first time. No one showed up. I already knew I had no friends, but seriously? I'm offering to go drinking, and no one wants to take me up on that? My friend, H. told me that she was going to be late, but she never called. So I went to the bar anyway, and did the whole rite of passage first drink bit. By the time I was done, no one had shown up yet. So I paid my tab and left, feeling like crap. Just as I was leaving, my father calls. I told him no one showed up, and he was like, "Call your Uncle D. (Oldman)." I knew Uncle Oldman would love to have a drink with me, and two drinks in a half an hour told me it would be a good idea to call him at 10pm. Not so much. A), he had already had a few drinks, so he couldn't come in to Universitytown, and B) 10pm is late for him. He gets up early in the morning. My alcoholized self didn't think about this. But I told him what happened, and he was pissed that my friends didn't show up, and my mom tells me he was pissed that I went out by myself anyway. So he insisted that he call someone and have them pick me up and take me home. That someone turned out to be my cousin, DH. DH and I have nothing in common. And I felt bad for having to have him come and pick me up. I kept telling Oldman that I could get home by myself, and that if it made him feel better, I could call my boss and have her come and get me. He wouldn't have it. "Too many methheads around." Apparently he doesn't know about all those late nights that I spend at school. So yeah. That was a shitty night.
Yesterday was alright. I sat in the library all day working on a paper outline. Still haven't done the paper yet, but I'm preparing for a "Don't go out by yourself and drink" lecture for on the way to the concert. Mom says I was wrong to do it, because the bartender could have slipped me something. What she doesn't realize is that I watched the bartender make my drinks, and I watched my drinks once they were in front of me. I was fine.
Then there was yesterday. I went to look at an apartment, and got into a fight with AAS. Fun. Shit.

Tuesday, May 04, 2010

I know, I know. I told you guys and myself that I would post at least once a week, but at least I'm not that far behind. I just have a lot of big stuff happening! For instance, I'm going to look at an apartment today that's about a mile and a half from the school. I am scheduled to take my driver's test tomorrow in Stown! So excited, and not sure if I'm ready. My birthday is Thursday, I'm turning 21. I also have a paper due Thursday. I'm going to a concert on Saturday night to celebrate my birthday, and then I have a paper due on Monday, as well as a final exam on Monday morning. Following that, on Tuesday I have a paper due, and my last final is Wednesday morning. Then on Thursday, I start at my internship site (technically I've already started because I already have a case. But whatever. Technicalities, right?)
I'm stoked for the summer. AAS MOVES here in July, which is less than TWO MONTHS from now! I'm busy looking for a place for us to live, and hopefully the place I applied to will accept us, but as of right now, I'm still looking because I haven't heard from the landlords. I'm also looking for a new job. I had two interviews a couple weeks ago, and I'm supposed to hear back from both companies sometime soon, but I haven't yet, so I should get my ass back into applying for more jobs. I might be changing my schedule for next semester around a bit too. We'll see what happens. I supposed I gotta do what I gotta do to make ends meet, right?
Stuff is scary though, knowing that soon I will have to start paying about $200 dollars for an apartment, and that as of right now, I don't have the funds or the employment to do so. Well, I have papers to get to, but I'll probably just end up watching House. Go me.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Panic Mode. Let's Avoid That, Shall We?

The fact of the matter is, I have finals in two weeks, and three presentations that I have to give on Monday, as well as people that I have to meet with regarding living situations, and interviews. Plus, I haven’t been there for the past two weeks anyway, thereby losing all authority I have over the other scene shop workers. And I suck at explaining things. And people don’t listen to me. So much for everything my mom told me about my being a leader and not a follower when I was little. The fact of the matter is, between my upcoming presentations, my job interviews, and my potential roommate interviews/viewings of rooms and houses, and my evening job, I don’t have any time to work for the next two weeks.
As soon as I turned in my notice, it hit me how stressed I am right now. And I guess it wasn’t really turning in my notice, because giving notice consists of letting your employer know that you will only be there for two more weeks, and that is kind of pointless for my situation.
To give you an idea, here is my finals to-do list:

  1. Women and gender paper (half done)
  2. Women and gender powerpoint (wont even be started until Sunday night)
  3. Language Learning and Acquisition (LLA) powerpoint slides
  4. LLA paper
  5. LLA unit three paper
  6. Russian lit novella
  7. Russian lit paper topic
  8. Women and gender test
  9. Russian lit paper
  10. Driver's test
  11. Practice for Driver's test
  12. Psych internship paperwork (mostly done, I just need to write a page on what I have to do for my internship)
  13. Then there's actual finals.
Now an idea for why I am stressed:
  1. The length of my to-do list
  2. Three presentations due all on the same day
  3. At least 6 psych articles to read before Sunday
  4. Prep for my driver's test
  5. I'm now unemployed
  6. I'm looking for a house/place to live for myself and my boyfriend (harder than you would think, because most places that we can afford, the landlord or housemates are opposed to taking a couple, and I can't afford many places like that on my own.
  7. I can't get a house/place to live without a source of income, and believe me... they check for that.
  8. I have to get a cheap place that isn't far from University, in a good neighborhood. This is difficult to find, because all the places near University are either expensive, or are in a neighborhood that I wouldn't want to be biking home alone at night in without a machete or handgun.
And what am I going to do to keep from freaking out? Good question:
  1. I will remember that I most likely have a month or two to find another job and a place to live.
  2. I will remember that I most likely got the job at Zales
  3. I will remember that AAS is coming, and that makes everything better
  4. I will remember that Uncle Oldman will help me out if I need it
  5. I will repeat my mantra, "Que sera sera"
  6. I will take things step-by-step
  7. I will take deep breaths
  8. When I start to freak out, I will take a break
  9. I will remember that God will provide me with a home when I need it.
I hope this will work. I hope things will turn out alright.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Challenged World Views

Above: Degas's "Bather"

I stood at the bus stop today
Feeling totally out of place in my fancy dress clothes
Amongst all the low-income citizens,
Mentally and physically disabled persons,
And the different races.
Though, I guess I shouldn't have felt out of place...
I'm one of them,
Just a sheep in wolf's clothing.
I placed my bike on the bicycle rack,
Climbed onto the bus,
Paid my fare.
They could tell that I don't usually ride,
I didn't have a monthly or weekly pass.
I pulled out my book,
The one I'm reading that has an essay in it
About Degas and the female nude.
I turned to the spot that I had marked,
The spot with the painting Bather on it.
A girl sits next to me,
About my age.
She's dressed like someone you would typically think of as
White Trash.
She must have glanced over,
Because she commented,
"I love that painting."
It was of a nude woman... so I thought she was being crude
I thought she didn't really recognize the painting.
Then she said,
"He's a great artist. Degas."
The wind blowing outside the bus
Could have blown me out the window
And left me in the bus's exhaust.
"Yeah," I replied. "I'm writing an essay on him for a class."
"For college or for high school?"
"For college."
"I wanted to go to art school. I got a couple offers when I was in high school.
But I was three credits short of graduating."

I guess it just wasn't worth it for her.
She moved on after a short conversation,
Leaving my
Preconceived misconceptions
On the seat next to me.
I didn't like them enough to want them back,
So when I got off, I left them there
For some other snobby bitch to pick up.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Update, and My Story.

Alright, alright. It’s been awhile since I last posted, and I guess I owe you an update. As of this moment, I have four places that I am seriously considering for me and AAS when he gets here. I am going to check one of them out on Sunday hopefully. I think that that will be the right place for us, if they like us well enough. I think I landed myself the retail job, but I have an interview at a bank on Tuesday. The manager who interviewed me asked me to sell her the pen she was using, and I was like, hmm, it’s a clickie pen… Then I turned to her and said “Manager, this is a great pen, because you can use it with one hand. You seem like a busy woman, so when you come into the office, and you have coffee in your hand and need to sign something immediately, it’s one click with the hand you’re holding the pen with, and you’re in business. Besides, look at the lovely color of the ink!” She said to me, “If you can sell me a pen, successfully, in 30 seconds, you can sell anything with training.” She also told me that she’s “still interested if [I’m] still interested,” which I am, because I need something that pays the bills, and I need it in a hurry.
Yesterday was my first day at the DA’s office (for my internship), and I am proud to say that not only did I take my first call (SCARY, at first) but I was assigned my first case, and successfully completed the first steps that I needed to take for that. I also got the fancy little key-card thingie that magically unlocks doors when I wave it like a wand in front of the little black doo-hickies next to them. I also set up my phone line, and felt like an idiot when I had to ask a secretary how to turn off my computer because it kept automatically restarting when I shut it down. It was ghost computer.
Speaking of ghosts, the WDC concert is this weekend, so I’ve been teching it up x.hardcore.x all week this week. Last night was Opening Night, and I feel proud to say that I designed a damn good light show with what I had available. The stage manager of SA helped me A LOT, and taught me how to do stuff that AHarv never taught me to do while I was working in the light shop. I knew how to focus lights before I started working in SA, but I didn’t have any experience with bounce focusing, which I did successfully the first time on the second light that I tried. I also got experience in setting up microphones, and such like that. Seriously. Great experience. He watched the show last night (the SM of SA) and gave me kudos for successfully pulling off so many light cues for one show. The only problems that I’ve been having with this are these three damn lights. They’re in the very back, and they come on at random, and go off at random. We in the business call this “ghosting”. Hence the “speaking of ghosts” earlier. We managed to get to the last song (out of 12 dances) before the ghosting lights came on. I think that that is pretty damn good.
Finally, this week was sexual assault awareness week. I went to “Take Back the Night” in Campus Chapel after rehearsal, and no one was there anymore. I still went in, with the intention of praying and processing. What ended up happening was another person who was at my rehearsal came in late, and I ended up telling him my story, and crying about it for the first time. Like I told him, I have difficulty with it, and complicated feelings about it:
It wasn’t night. It was day. He had just asked me to be his girlfriend, and I liked him well enough, so I said yes. I told him before anything happened that I didn’t want to have sex, so he did everything but. Many things I was uncomfortable with. After my sexual assault training with the DA’s office, I realized that even the steps before the actual thing occurred were considered sexual assault, because I felt violated. It’s why I never liked receiving head. I never said yes. Then he started pressuring me. Pressing up against me. To the point where I knew he was going to rape me. He didn’t have protection, because we weren’t having sex. This is where it gets confusing. I got up. I dug in my drawer for a condom. I handed it to him. This was to protect myself. Now, I ask myself why I didn’t just leave. I was up. I could have/should have just put my clothes back on and left. The DA training says when women ask questions like that “You did what you had to do to survive.” I didn’t say yes to him. But I didn’t say no either.
When my mom returned home that night, I told her what had happened in my bedroom earlier. I guess take back the night wasn’t the first time I cried, because I cried when I told her. Do you know what she said to me? She reminded me of how many men I had slept with in the past year. She told me I was being promiscuous. She called me a whore.
Now, my mom and I were close. Still are. So you can see why I started to believe her. Why, for almost two years, I believed that it wasn’t really rape, that it was just a bad sexual experience. Then I took the DA training. I realized that my feelings of being violated were valid. Friends and relatives often blame the victim to distance themselves from it. This is what my mother was doing by calling me a whore, by telling me I was just being promiscuous. I realized that that boy had touched me in the confusing way, not the good touch or the bad touch. The confusing touch. And my responses to said touch were just as confusing.
He left hickies on my neck. I had to wear those for at least a week. And every time I looked in the mirror, I was reminded of what happened. I was reminded that I had been a part of this, that I didn’t know what that part was. But I did know that I didn’t want it, and I did know that I felt like crap because of it.
And just now, because of what she said to me, just now, I am able to process what actually happened to me.

Friday, April 16, 2010


Big changes have been happening recently. Seriously. Unless you're me, you have no idea what this feels like. Most of you are used to reading this blog and hearing me bitch about random things. I have been unhappy. No wonder I bitch. Well, I'm beginning to change that.

  1. I gave notice with KS, and will be telling MS on Sunday that I will be moving out no later than August (I'm going to shoot for/plan for earlier, because I want to get the hell out, and I have to be ready to go with, like, a week's notice). This is exciting, because I finally get to live on my own, determine my own schedule, and be more in control of my life. And this will be a good thing. I will be responsible for my own rent, which scares the hell out of me, but I will make it. Which brings me to my next point.
  2. AAS is finally moving up here. We're going to live together. This is AMAZING, I can't believe it's happening, I can't wait, and like the above change, I am scared shitless (He says he is too, so it's okay). (PS, shut up Microsoft word. I used the proper form of "it's")
  3. Being responsible for rent means getting another job. With my days full of 8-5 shifts, I thought this would be nearly impossible, and that with the recession, neither AAS or myself would be able to find jobs. However, I walked into Zales yesterday after taking their little "Do you have a clean criminal record" test. I passed, and with the number of hours I am looking for before I move out, they are ecstatic to have me, and asked for an interview immediately, but I'm pretty sure I have the job. I will have to work only on weekends though until I move out, or ask KS for the time off.
  4. My new fish is not dead, and I haven't decided on a name for him. (okay, this is less exciting, but my next point was the DA Victim Assistance position, and you already knew about that, and having to get my Driver's License, which, by the way, the DMV in this county is a bastard because they wouldn't let me take my driver's written test, because my transcript wasn't sent to me. Dick move, guys. Dick move. See, they didn't actually specify that I needed to have it sent to me. They just told me that I needed the transcript. I cried, and kicked my bike with flip flops on, and now I have a blood blister. Yeah… I wasn't very smart right in that moment.)
  5. Also I got all the classes that I want for next year, but I can get rid of two, if I want to decrease my tuition and my financial aid, and I have all MW classes if I just get rid of the hard one of the two.. I'm so tempted, but if I want to go to grad school, they're going to see that I took two 100 level classes, and two 400 level classes, which would look bad for me. But I definitely don't want to be stressed.

More updates later, as things progress. I've found a place that would be willing to take AAS and me in August. J

Monday, April 12, 2010


Couple of new things:

First off, I got a new fish. His name is yet to be determined. At the moment, I'm torn between Ghandi, Maximus Decimus Meridius (from Gladiator), or Dog. He's a betta, aka, a fighting fish, so it would be ironic to name him Ghandi, fitting to name him Maximus, and I thought it would just be funny to name him Dog, because I had to walk through the park when I was bringing him home.

Secondly, and possibly more excitingly, I got the internship with the DA, which means that I can cross that off my Bucket List. I'm STOKED, and I just about called today to see if I could take a case as a volunteer, even though I don't start as an intern until May. Then I remembered how much stuff I have to do between now and my birthday (in May) and decided that maybe it wouldn't be a wise idea. Something else that just occurred to me is that they probably wouldn't let me because I don't currently have my driver's license and they don't take people without their licenses, which brings me to my next point:

By May, I will have my driver's license, for the first time ever (unless I fail, but I am praying please please please don't let me fail, because if I do, I can't have my internship!) which means that I will be able to cross that off my list! Yay!

Anyway, I'm registering for classes for my second to last semester at University, and I'm stoked, but also nervous that I won't get the class that I want.

More updates later.

Sunday, April 04, 2010

Braveheart Wasn’t Really That Brave

Well dears, it's been a little more than a week since I posted last, but I have some sad sad news. For those of you who have grown attached to Braveheart the Fish, this might come as a shock. Braveheart the Fish wasn't so brave. Despite Braveheart's brave heart on the journey home, he died Wednesday evening. He was floating on his side when I got home from school and when I caught him to take him out, he started moving again! He was swimming on his side, but he was still moving, so I hurriedly took him out, thinking that I needed to change the water in his tank, and I put him in a smaller bowl of untreated water to see if I had put too much treatment in. He laid there for a little while, moving occasionally, but by eight pm, Braveheart had moved his last gill. So I sent him to heaven via the U-bend in my bathroom.

Has anyone else had a fish die, then flushed him, then had to pee and felt bad for peeing "on the fish"?

I'm getting a hamster next time. They tolerate more and live longer.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

The Tale of Braveheart… the Fish

Instead of working on my homework that I will have absolutely no time for next week, I am going to be a bad student today and tell you about the recent goings on in my life. First of all, spring break was last week. Guess what I did! I stayed here, in UniverCity and worked with MS, while training for the DA internship that I might not even get. Yes, I know I keep tacking that last bit on, just to keep my hopes from rising to a level where it will suck if I get rejected. Because of this training, I have learned more about domestic violence, sexual assault, murder, and victim psychology then I ever thought I would need to/want to know. I was fingerprinted for the first time (and I think they smudged the last bit, so I might need to run out to the sheriff's office one day, you know, 20 miles from my house with no car, to do it over again. I have also been forced to confront the demons that have been hiding inside me about my own sexual assault. And on top of all this, the hardest part of this job, I can't share with anyone else, and that is the stories. The stories about the victims. I nearly started crying in my training the other day because of one of the stories, because I could picture my mom in the place of the victim, saying the same thing. It's hard to listen to, and it's confidential. Ruff stuff.

So now it's the weekend. I've been making up for the tough stuff (you know in the Chicken Soup for the Soul books, how they always have a section on tough stuff? Yeah, most of the victim stories about the cases belong in that section) by eating pizza, watching movies and House marathons, and buying a fish. That's right. A fish. His name is Braveheart and I got him yesterday at the pet store for 27¢. Mhm, 27/100 of a dollar. Including his bowl and water conditioner and everything, he actually probably cost me more along the lines of about 20 bucks, but I think he was a worthy investment.

A couple of weeks ago, I was Stumbling on the internet with StumbleUpon and I came across a quote from Carl Jung that depression can be treated by caring for something that is living. At the time, I was feeling like crap, partially because I've been having issues with self-worth and how that correlates to friendship, and the perception of how others view the self. Anyway, I stumbled upon this, and thought that maybe a pet would be an automatic friend, someone I can talk to and tell all my thoughts and fears to, when in all actuality, it would be me talking to myself, and processing my own thoughts aloud to an animate object that can't actually understand me. So his name is Braveheart.

Originally, I was going to get a beta. I like betas. They're beautiful, you can keep them in a small bowl, and you rarely have to change the water. You don't need a filter or air bubbles for them. They are simple creatures. When I got to the pet store, I found a beta that I liked: a beautiful grey-ish blue with bright blue where his fins attached to his body, and red at the tips of his fins. He was absolutely gorgeous. Then I noticed that there was a hole in the top of the container that he was in; a hard plastic container, like something that you would purchase the employee-made potato salad in at Safeway. This kind of container is not something that would be conducive to keeping a fish alive for an hour on a bumpy bike ride home. So I rethought my purchase a little. Should I come back on a day when I can catch a bus here, or when I can get a ride? Do I really need a pet? I guess not, but I really want one, and I really want to get it tod—ooh goldfish! Oh my gosh, they're 14 times less expensive than the beta! But a beta is prettier. But I can get a goldfish home safer if they put them in one of those plastic bags that they give you at the fair when you win the coin toss. But goldfish are so common. But betas aren't really active. I really wish I could have a hamster, but I don't think it would be easy to hide it and what if it escaped like Snowball did that one time, and someone found out about it and told MS? I think she's be pretty upset about a rodent. But goldfish only come in one color—wait, no they don't! They have grey ones in the tank too!

Anyway, the debate in my head went on like this for awhile, and I did seriously consider a hamster as another option. I finally asked an employee to explain what I need for a basic tank for a goldfish, my mind not quite made up yet. I finally put away the beautiful beta, and asked the man who was helping me to get a fish out of the tank. He asked if there was a specific one that I wanted. I didn't really care, they looked all the same to me, until I saw him. The pretty white goldfish with the orange on the top of his head and a spot on the top of his fin. The associate fished (insert repressed amused snort here) my fish out of the tank, and deposited him into the bag (score!) that would be his home for the next 3-4 miles, the next 45 minutes, which might have been the worst of his life. I had all the equipment (which included two pounds of gravel (black, to accent his white color), a tank that I had thriftily purchased at the thrift store next door, a small plant, water conditioner and treatment, and fish food, along with the stuff that I had brought with me) in my bag, which was quite heavy, and the fish in the bag the pet store gave me (because it gave me a little more to hold onto than the bag he was housed in). I figured he would get squished if I put him in my purse with the other stuff, so I held onto him the whole ride home. I'm sure he was traumatized by the motion of the ocean in the bag, so when we got home, I made him comfortable right away. So comfortable, in fact, that he stopped moving for the rest of the day. I thought he was dead.

Later in the evening, I fed him a little when he started moving again, and he got quite active. Now he's moving and swimming and cute, and hence the name Braveheart. I think if he wasn't brave, he wouldn't have made it, and I would be flushing Braveheart and going back to the pet store on Thursday to get another 27 cent fish. Hell, I still might go back to get another one. Forget what the man said about one fish per gallon. I'm sure two fish will be fine in my tank.

I told my mom that I bought a fish yesterday, and I can't remember the whole conversation, but I think when I mentioned that I was calling him Braveheart, she was like, "What??" and asked me why I was naming a fish I was going to eat. I think she thought that I had gone mad for sure at that point, because I kept using the word we to refer to myself and the fish, so I told her about my trip to the pet store. She got it then. I also told her about the little boys who were laughing at the mice, two of which were holding on for dear life to the wheel while one ran. You can imagine what that scene was like. Although, I will admit that I laughed too.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Mandatory Reporting, My Ass

So, here's the deal: after listening to an attorney who works for the DA (called a Deputy District Attorney, or DDA) talk for an hour about mandatory reporting, I was basically shamed into reporting on my father. I didn't tell them it was my father; I asked what you should do if there was a conflict of interest, like if you were dating someone who was abusive to their children. I called Washington's DHS, and found out that what my father has been doing all along is not abuse. Let me take you back 7 years for a moment

I'm in a car, and my father is threatening to whip me with a belt. "I'll report you to CPS for child abuse if you do!" He said, "It isn't abuse if I don't leave bruises."

Okay, back to the present. I was discussing this with my mom last night, and we both have the idea that he probably looked it up to see how far he could go before he got in trouble, thereby enforcing his status as an abuser. I learned yesterday in training that they did a study on the heart rate, perspiration rate, and breathing rate of abusers. The researchers sent the victims in with their abusers to provoke them, and just before the abuse happened, they stopped the experiment. What they found was that the abuser's heart rate, breathing rate, and perspiration rate all went down. The abuse cycle had a calming effect on the abuser. He plans it every time!

Also, I got fingerprinted for the first time. There was more that I was going to tell you, but I can't remember at the moment. Will post again soon.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Mandatory Reporting

Okay, for those of you who read and don't know, I am applying for an internship at the DA's office. I'm not totally clear on the boundaries here, but either now, or if I get it, I will be a mandatory reporter for cases of known child abuse and neglect. This means that if I don't report something, I could get in serious trouble. As in, be held in contempt and receive jail time. Fun, huh? So here is my problem. My father is emotionally abusive to his family, but mostly to his wife. He has never hit her, myself, or my step-sister, even though he has threatened to several times. He displays many characteristics of an abuser (because he is one) but doesn't batter. As far as I know, there are no laws against this in Eastern State. However, he has spanked his children when they don't do what he wants. He has spanked them with a spoon. A wooden spoon, from the kitchen.

Now, when he threatened to beat me with his belt when I was in the 8th grade, he told me that I couldn't report it to CPS because it wasn't abuse if he didn't leave bruises. This is where I'm torn: I know that his logic is false, but I don't know how far it has to go before it is considered abuse. Does spanking a child with a spoon constitute as discipline, or as abuse? And if I did report it, who would I report to? Telling the DA of my office wouldn't do much because they have no jurisdiction over the county that my father lives in. If I reported it to CPS in Eastern State, what would they do? Would they tell him that I reported him? Do I get in trouble if I don't report my own family?

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Old Woman

Sometimes, living with MS is like living with a child. I was thinking this the other day when I was helping her with the bath. I hate doing this. She gets the bathroom extremely hot, she splashes everywhere, she wears wax earplugs so she doesn't get an ear infection, and she has me wash her back and her hair. I was literally thinking while this was happening, Dear Lord, I am NEVER having children.

Sometimes living with MS is like watching grass grow. We sit down to eat dinner together every night, and I have grown up with my mother, who eats so fast, it's like she's taking a vacuum to her plate. Therefore, I have inherited her ability to snarf down a whole meal in about 15 minutes. This also comes from practice during my shifts at Big Retail Store when I go home for breaks. Oftentimes, I only have 15 minutes to eat, and therefore need to eat faster. So you must understand the agony that I go through, being on the verge of ADHD, unable to sit still while I watch an 80-odd-year-old woman take five minutes to chew each of the 15 quarters of ¼ inch sliced cucumber that pepper her salad. You can understand why I can't sit still for that long.

Sometimes living with MS is like living with a TV that stays on all the time, whether you're in the room with it or not, constantly spewing useless information that you can't really change whether you want to or not, and no matter what channel you turn it to, you rarely find anything interesting. MS reads the paper. She watches political TV. And therefore, she always has the most useless information, or information about stuff that I already know about. And when she is energetic, she will call me every five minutes to spout this useless information.

Sometimes living with MS is like living with a pet you don't really like. For instance, you bought this little football dog that you thought would make a nice, small, less-mess pet, but all it does is bark all the time, ask to be let outside, and whine to be fed. While MS doesn't ask to be let outside, she'll call me ten minutes before she's actually ready for bed to do things that I cannot do until she is ready for bed, and in bed. Like a dog, she doesn't understand that when she stands in your way, you can't do what it wants you to. She'll call me down so I can watch her sit on the toilet for ten minutes while she changes her clothes, and I am taskless. And then, like the dog that stands in your way, she won't get all the way into bed, so I can't take her fucking socks off.

Sometimes, living with MS is like living with an old woman. Oh, wait. That isn't a simile.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Absinthe Eyes

There I sat on the corner of 14th and Center

After the long walk from the shelter

In my shabby coat, and my tattered, unbrushed hair.

Cars passed.

People spat at my sign from their windows.

They don't get that I can't get a job

That I don't have an address

That I don't have a place to take a shower.

On top of all that, I don't have a speck of green.

What a cruel day to be homeless.


Then she walked up.


With her blonde pixie cut,

Her green shirt and brooch.

Definitely the type of punk that laughs

With her absinthe-colored eyes.

Her piercings reminded me

Of the rainbows that leprechauns frequent

She got close enough to pinch me,

The tradition of the day.

She leaned down

And pinned a bill on my shirt.

Twenty dollars.


"There's your green for today," she said.


She disappeared around the corner,

And I had a hot meal for the first time in a week.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

List Three?: Top Ten Bands I Would Love to See in Concert

  1. John Mayer
  2. Nickelback (bought tickets to see them in May, my uncle and I are going for my birthday!)
  3. Keith Urban
  4. Brad Paisley
  5. Relient K (I saw them with Switchfoot a little over a year ago. Hearing the opening chords of "Meant to Live" was epic!)
  6. Jason Mraz
  7. Dierks Bentley
  8. Daughtry
  9. Dave Matthews Band
  10. Big and Rich (their cds are pretty awesome, and I think they would be funny, as well as their factor of badass musicosity)

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Saint Patrick, Among Others

I would have to argue that St. Patrick's Day is probably the dumbest celebrated holiday ever. Saint Patrick was supposedly the patron saint of Ireland, but did you know he was actually British? He was taken from Britain as a slave by Irish raiders when he was 16. Apparently while he was there, he had an epiphany that he should be a monk, and he was able to go back to Britain to train. Finally he ended up in Ireland again, this time by choice. Was he crazy? If I was captured when I was 16, and I managed to escape, the last thing I would want to do is go back! So now that we have established the fact that he was a monk, let's just reiterate that he was British before telling everyone that Ireland made him their patron saint. So now, when we celebrate SPD, we're actually celebrating Ireland. Regardless, it's supposed to be a day that honors a saint, right? Well, I hardly think that a monk would approve of people in another country partaking in food-colored beer in his name. I don't think Ireland even makes green beer. And on top of all this, where the hell did the leprechauns come in? And what about holidays for every other saint in the canon? Why don't they get their own celebratory days? And the pinching for lack of green clothing? WTF? Actually, I think that last one comes from one too many mean-hearted children who are beaten at home and need to take it out on the less-liked kid who always forgets to wear green. Guess I was that kid.

Despite the rant about SPD, I do have a poem that I am currently composing about it that isn't a rant in the slightest. So just hold out with me until I get it done and I'll publish it for you.

The people on sustainability council at my school were serving "sustainable" SPD cake today. It was chocolate with green frosting and green sprinkles. But it wasn't the cake that I am so concerned about, it was what was under it. These people, representatives of the sustainability council were serving their cake on paper plates. You read that right. Paper plates with plastic forks. I could understand the paper plates if we had a compost bin at my school. But we don't. And the plastic forks? Straight into the landfill. Way to go, sustainability council. Way. To. Go. Also, if the idea of sustainability is to limit the cutting down of trees, then why take their sticks off, just to annoy the ducks at the stream? Sticking 760 twigs in the ground all around on the bank of the stream isn't making a good point if you defeat the purpose by being contradicting in making your point.

Finally, I saw MZ with some guy today. I felt this uncontrollable urge to warn him that she's a douchemonger pig-bitch that will treat you nice until you think you're her best friend, and then turn around with her real, asshole best friend and stab you in the back. Whenever I see her with a new friend, I get this desire. I also get the desire to publish it on the internet, but I refrain from… oh, wait… no, I guess I actually do that. But not so that anyone knows who she is, or who I am (well, besides those of you who actually do know me personally). Anyway, while fighting this urge, and also the urge to untie her sling (she did something to her arm recently; I kind of want to hit it and see how loud she screams. Wow… no wonder they didn't want to live with me. I'm mean), I started thinking. If she and AK are the outward assholes (meaning, I may be an asshole too, but at least I'm good at hiding it until I'm anonymous), and they are the ones who did the wronging, why am I the lonely one? Why am I the one with no friends, when they have all sorts of new friends?


Anyway, wait for the poetry. It will be coming soon.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Creative Writing Exercise, Inspired by Carrie at Carrotspeak

What it comes down to is that Carrie at Carrotspeak is taking this creative writing course, where the exercise was to make a list of facts about yourself, someone else, the world, little known facts, ect. and then write an essay around one of them. So, here is mine:

See this? Here, on my skin. See it? That little tan spot? That one is from the horrible sunburn I got at Blue Lake when I went camping with my family. It was the first and only time I ever owned a bikini, because my boobs were too big for anything but a bandeau, and after that summer, I started middle school, where self-esteem was an issue for all girls, and the one thing that I happened to be self-conscious was the slight belly that stuck over the edge of my bottoms. I could barely sleep that night because it hurt so bad.

These two on my face, right next to each other, are from that time on the playground during the summer that I worked for Best SELF, the time that I was asking Luis, a twelve-year-old trouble maker about the meaning of a certain Spanish word that came up in my reading for AP English, which wasn't really age appropriate, if you know what I mean. This is a child who I sent out to run (as punishment) for swearing. So when I asked him this, you can imagine that I was slightly surprised when he wouldn't tell me what it meant, seeing as he swore all the time anyway.

And this one? On my arm? This one is from tramping around the fields chasing cattle with CMA on her parents' dairy farm when we were ten. I spent the night at her house that night, and we pulled mattresses out into the yard to sleep under the stars. We nearly got mauled by Bob, the Saint Bernard that they kept as a dog, for some reason. The thing really belonged in a horse pen, if you ask me. I guess the reason we were so freaked out by him because not only was he so big, but he slobbered a lot, and we fed off of each others' energy.

I got its twin the next day, when we went swimming in that pond her dad dug that summer. I remember he rented a tractor to dig it out, and the first few years, it was so deep, but as it settled, the dirt filled it back in again. My dad and her dad strung a rope from a tree that we could swing on as high as possible, which wasn't as high as the boys could swing, because they were bigger than we were. Some parts still stayed deep, and as the summers past, we swam in the parts that stayed deep. We would also use inner tubes to float down the stream it created.

This one, on my cheek, right next to my nose, I got from the Life Teen campout at the lake, when CMA's sister, BA, had to share a bed with me, and asked if I wanted to feel her hairy legs. She proceeded to rub them against my bare skin. I always thought she was a weirdo, but hey, I guess she fits in with the rest of the family.

Oh! Look at this one. This is the one I remember the best. Here, on my shoulder. I got this the last time I saw CMA. I had just stormed out of my house after a sunny day spent mostly outside, but then having to cook for my father. He said something to me that night that really upset and hurt me. So, I left. CMA and I were planning on going out to the movies that night anyway, but we changed our plans without telling our parents and ended up in serious trouble. I got mad at her, because she never told me about the curfew that she was supposed to abide by.

She didn't make it to day I got the next freckle. She died one January. Thank God I don't have a freckle to remember that by, I can remember it clearly enough already.


Anyway, tell me what you think!

Thursday, March 11, 2010

When pet peeves get you down, what do you do? That's right, you blog about them. This post is dedicated to pet peeves, and even though other people expressing pet peeves might be a pet peeve in and of itself, but I promise that you will commiserate, as well as add your own. On top of all that, I will make a post of things that I love some other time.

  1. People who have opinions so strong, that they don't let others with a separate opinion get a word in edgewise.
  2. Pointy faces that resemble rats. These people tend to be really snotty.
  3. Overarched, overshaped, overwaxed eyebrows.
  4. Bigots.
  5. People who are lazy with their spelling. (I'm talking about stuff like "i 8 diner alredy. r u going too the movies tonite?" Seriously, would it kill you to go back to elementary school and do the dumb spelling assignments where you had to write each word three times, only this time do it right and make it stick.)
  6. Grad school choices.
  7. Uggs. (The name says it all: "ugg")
  8. Pants tucked into boots. (Especially when paired with number 7. This fad is just dumb)
  9. Wearing nothing but tights or leggings as pants to class.
  10. Overly lazy people who want to get paid, or do get paid for doing nothing.
  11. People who text in class.
  12. Being put on the spot/having to give a public speech or presentation. (I failed the spelling bee. Twice. On the first word. All because I was nervous. Not because I was a number 5.)
  13. Having to put your finger in an empty lotion bottle to get the remains.
  14. Passive aggressive people who pose their requests as if they were your idea. "If you would like, you can make a pot of tea for me."
  15. Any tapping or repetitive motion, either regular or irregular.
  16. People who think they're right all the time. (These people are usually number 1's too)
  17. Wet shoes and socks that keep your feet cold.

Lately I've been making a lot of lists. I don't know what's going on, maybe I'm just compartmentalizing a lot of stuff. But I also have a list about badass movies that I want to add to my overly girlie collection, I have a list of top ten bands I want to see in concert, I have an ongoing list of things that I absolutely lovelovelove. All of these will be coming in due time. Yay!

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

So, I'm taking this class called women in the arts, and we're examining closely the lives of women who didn't get enough credit for their artwork when they were working. I've found that so far, most of the articles that we have read in this class have seemed fairly accurate in their portrayal of the female artists, that is until we started studying Fanny Mendelssohn/Hensel. She had a brother, Felix, who was also a composer and was said to be the most influential person in Fanny's life, and judging by her letters to him, I would argue that this also is fairly accurate. However, in every article that I have read about the siblings (save for one), the author (who is often a feminist) will paint the portrait of Felix as the villain, the person who discourages Fanny not to publish her compositions. However, in an article that I read for today's class by someone of the name of Kimber, she presents a completely different take on things, with supporting evidence, unlike many of the other articles that I've read. Most of the other articles construct their arguments by speculation and speculation alone, and pick and choose the letters that support their theories from the letters between the Mendelssohn siblings, and completely disregard all other evidence that provides counters to their arguments.

Now, the people in my class read the ones without evidence, or with very little evidence, and automatically assume that this is the true story of Fanny, that her brother held her back from publishing, and completely criticize the article that actually provides evidence. I hate these people. This is the problem with taking feminist classes.

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Swirling Stuff Mixed With A Weird Mood

Well, I've certainly had a lot to think about for the past few days. Like I described to AAS the other day, it's like there is a hurricane in my brain, and the clouds are everything I'm thinking about with the epicenter being me and who I am as a person. I guess I'm kind of going through existentialism. What does it all mean?

But anyway, on to the swirling clouds: AAS thinks I should start considering myself as a bisexual, because he thinks I am a little. I don't know though. There are things that point to the possibility that I might be (like, I think its weird watching guys masturbate) but on the other hand, I couldn't see myself doing anything with a girl besides kissing, experimentally. AAS says that my tendency to tell my female friends that they look hot in some outfit supports the idea that I am or might be, but I argue that it's simply platonic, like a compliment.

Another thing: I had an epiphany when I saw MZ with her dad the other day: She was only friends with me because she liked the parties I want to. Seriously, the only reason she was sad that PV and I broke up is because she would miss out on the parties that he threw, and she got angry when I wouldn't take her to a theatre party because she would have to take her brothers. Her younger brothers. Her brothers that are in middle and high school. She told her mom about that, and her mom was pissed at me. Wtf? Underage kids (more underage than MZ and I) at a drunken theatre party? What if the police came? The people hosting the party would be in bigger trouble than I would and would hate me forever for bringing people who don't even go to our school to their party. I was not okay with this, but apparently MZ's mom was. Some mother. I wonder if MZ told her mom about what she said about me with AK and the others. Maybe then her mom would think she was the bad kid, and not me. Ha. I wish. Like my mom told me I was the bad one when I found out from my roommate (how I found out is relevant but unmentionable. Just know that it was bad, and I was bad for doing it). Oh wait. She did tell me I was the bad one. I guess that does make MZ's mother a shitty one.

I think it's just something with me and mother's other than my own. I guess I don't think that there are any other mothers better than my mom was to me, (including me, sometime in the future).

Finally AAS and I are fighting right now.


Guess that's it. Just stuff. Swirling stuff mixed with a weird mood.

Friday, March 05, 2010

Hey Everybody, It’s Bad Joke Friday!

And the bad joke of the day is as follows:

A man was waiting for his wife to give birth. The doctor came and informed the dad that his son was born without a torso, arms, or legs. The son was just a head!

But the dad loved his son and raised him as well as he could. Eighteen years later, the son was old enough for his first drink. The dad took him to a bar, tearfully told him he was proud of him, and ordered the biggest, strongest drink for his boy. With all the bar patrons looking on curiously, the boy took his first sip of alcohol.

Swoooop! A torso popped out!

The bar was dead silent, then burst into a whoop of joy. The father, shocked, begged his son to drink again. The patrons chanted, "Take another drink! Take another drink!" The bartender shook his head in dismay.

Swoooop! Two arms popped out!

The bar went wild. The father, crying and wailing, begged his son to drink again. The patrons chanted, "Take another drink! Take another drink!" But the bartender ignored the whole affair.

By this time, the boy was getting tipsy. With his new hands, he reached down, grabbed the drink, and guzzled the last of it.

Swoooop! Two legs popped out.

The bar was in chaos. The father wept with joy. The boy stood up on his new legs. He stumbled to the left. He stumbled to the right. Then he stumbled through the front door and into the street, where a truck ran him over.

The bar fell silent. The father moaned with grief. The bartender merely sighed and said, "He should have quit while he was a head."


Haha! This one, while morbid, makes me giggle a little. Feel free to comment with your own bad jokes!

Also, I'm stuck at home with MS all weekend, so don't be surprised if there are a few venting posts here by Monday.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

A Letter to a Bitch.

MS, Darling.

I hate you. I hate when you correct my grammar, and interrupt me when I'm saying something to do it, even though you say I'm rude for "playing with my toes at the table," even though I'm scratching them because they itch. I hate when you guilt trip me for having a day off when Kathryn comes down, because I have a RIGHT to a day off. In fact, by state law, I have a right to an hour lunch and two ten minute breaks because of the length of the shift that I'm working. However, I have to be in the house with you at all times, or at least close enough to come running when you press the call button. I hate it when you change the rules on me and say that something is my responsibility when it wasn't made explicit that it was my responsibility. I hate it when you call me every five minutes when you know that I have homework to do, just to tell me about something in the paper that you find interesting and that you want me to read, even though you know I don't have the time, because of my homework load. I hate when I heat your dinner to boiling hot, and then you tell me it's cold, 15 minutes after I have given it to you, without even taking a bite. I hate when you think that everything can be done on your schedule, even though my sleep cycle starts before you're ready to go to bed. I hate it when you get mad at me for being impatient when it is 9:30 at night, and you haven't finished your dinner. I hate it when you treat me like I'm stupid, a recurring event, I might add, like I don't know what grapes look like in the fridge, or that I didn't check all the drawers and shelves for a specific cracker. I hate it when you pry in my life, when I'm already so pissed at you that I don't want to talk to you. I hate it that I can drink two glasses of wine and STILL be stressed out by you. I hate that you ask to do something that you could do after you are ready for bed before you let me get you ready for bed, just to make me wait. I hate that you are dead set on making me do something that I hate doing, just because you know I hate doing it. Make T. do it; all she does all day is sit on her ass anyway. I am here for one reason and one reason only: because my friends that I was supposed to live with deserted me, and started talking shit about me behind my back. Not because I like you (who the fuck does???), not because you need me. Because I can't afford to live on my own. Because my ex-friends are assholes, and didn't have the guts to show me they were to my face. I would rather be homeless than live here. I would rather starve than live here. I would rather live with five assholes who hate me and don't depend on me, than one asshole who does, and won't leave me alone for five seconds, and then says she does so much for me, when you're really just a bitch. That is all.

Fuck you.


P.S. Calling AAS fat makes him want to beat you to death with a pineapple. Also, he thinks that every day I don't murder you is a miracle.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Today is a day when I hate my life. I hate my job, I hate where I live as a result of having said job, I hate my housemate, and I hate myself for being so despicable that I don't have any friends that I can keep so I can be in a different living situation. I am so frustrated with where my life is going right now, and I hate waking up on Saturday and Sunday mornings to the doo-doo-doo-doo-doo scale notes of the walkie-talkie call button. I hate MS, I can't stand her. The first thing that she says to me this morning was "I'm going to watch this program and the program after that, and then I want you to help me with a bath." I hate giving her a bath. It's hot, and she takes FOREVER. And not only that, but KS is coming today, and she usually comes about 10:30, so she'll be here soon. When I made MS aware of the fact, she replied, "I would rather have you do it than K do it because she has other things that she needs to do today." KS is her daughter. KS comes down to relieve me so I don't go crazy and beat her mother to death with a pineapple, or any other fruit for that matter. So, today is my day off. And yet MS feels that I shouldn't get one. Thanks, dude. I never should have taken this job. But if I hadn't, where would I be now?

Living with people I hate, that's where. At least they would leave me alone. I would be living practically the same loner lifestyle that I am living here, but substitute one housemate that depends on me for five housemates that don't depend on me for anything but rent, and who I hate equally. Yes, I think that I would be much better off with MZ and AK.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Summer Reading List

Maybe it's a bit premature to be thinking about this, but I guess all the sunny weather has got me thinking about summer already. Too bad it's only February. I have so many things to look forward to! The concert right after my 21st birthday, training for an internship (cross your fingers for me that I get it!), AAS coming (REALLY cross your fingers for me on this one), and other stuff that I know not yet of. But come summer, AAS will be moving here, as some of you know, and if I get aforementioned internship, I will start in May. So, I have to have awesome books to read over what is sure to be an amazing summer. And here they are!

  1. Running With Scissors (Augusten Burroughs)
  2. Great Expectations (Charles Dickens)
  3. Nickolas Nickelby (Charles Dickens)
  4. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
  5. The Big Over Easy (Jasper Fforde)
  6. The Fourth Bear (Jasper Fforde)
  7. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
  8. Faust (Goethe)
  9. The Scarlet Letter (Nathaniel Hawthorne)
  10. Les Miserables (Victor Hugo)
  11. Ghost (Henrik Ibsen)
  12. An Enemy of the People (Henrik Ibsen)
  13. The World According to Garp (John Irving)
  14. The Almost Moon (Alice Sebold)
  15. Pygmalion (George Bernard Shaw)
  16. Five Quarters of Orange (Joanne Harris)
  17. Q & A (aka Slumdog Millionaire (PS: I am in love with this movie!) Vikas Swarup)
  18. Atonement (Ian McEwan)
  19. The Bible—I will be able to cross this off my bucket list if I get it done!
  20. Crime and Punishment (Dostoevsky)
  21. Ahab's Wife (Naslund)
  22. The Brother's Karamozov (Dostoevsky)
  23. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)

I know this is an insanely long reading list (considering the length of most of these books, and the fact that my boyfriend will be living in the same state as me, so I will be able to see him whenever I want), and I know I am ambitious, but I really hope I can get it all done.

Now for books that I would recommend for a GREAT summer reading list:

  1. Catch 22 (Heller?)
  2. Feed (Anderson)
  3. Anything by Shakespeare
  4. Envy (Olesha)
  5. Anything by Jasper Fforde (the ones I've read are his Thursday Next series)
  6. Waiting for Godot (Beckett (and though it's spelled Godot, it's pronounced /godoe/)
  7. Cyrano de Bergerac (Rostand)

I'll probably think of more once I post this, but hey, posts can be revised, right?

Thursday, February 25, 2010

A homeless man offered me help today. The irony does not escape me.

I was at the west entrance of Nordstrom, locking (or trying to anyway) my bike to a post. I was nicely dressed in khakis and my winter coat, and I had just my purse with me. (I had an interview, so I was toting around all the stuff that is normally in my backpack in my mid-sized purse). The purse wasn't in my way, but maybe it looked like it was, or maybe it just looked like I couldn't get the lock on right. Anyway, while I was in the process of locking up so I could go into Nordstrom, a man who would probably be escorted out of Nordstrom, or at least watched like a hawk, approached me, with his sleeping bag in its carrying case, and a small tote, and asked if I needed help. This was surprising to me, because I didn't feel like I was having trouble; I fight with my lock on a daily basis. I politely declined with a smile, and the man went on his way. As he walked away, I thought of the ten dollars that I had in my wallet, then about the food court in the mall, and wondering when this man's last meal was. I watched his retreating back for a moment before remembering that I was in a hurry, and that I needed to get going. So I went on my way as well.

Now, I'm thinking back to the man I met briefly today. I don't know his name. I don't know what his story is. I can only assume that he has a place to sleep tonight, and that he has somehow managed to get a meal. I guess I realize now that God was calling out to me, because shortly before this occurrence, I rode past a man from my school who is part of IVCF, and he was carrying around a bag full of peanut butter sandwiches and juice boxes, handing them out to people who looked like they were homeless. As I found out at Summit, they don't always look it. There was a lady I met who buried all of her stuff every day so it wouldn't get stolen, but every time I saw her, she was impeccably dressed, hair done nicely, and she biked everywhere. In fact, I confess I was wondering why she was at Saint Leo's for food. I thought maybe she was just having a hard time and needed the money she would spend on food for other bills. I was sure she had an apartment, or some sort of permanent living situation. When God called to me and told me to invite her to the dinner that the Summit kids were hosting at our temporary house, I found out that she actually lived in a tent, and needed to be back at her tent before dark so her stuff wouldn't be stolen. I was amazed, and I learned that the face of homelessness doesn't always have to be a dirty one.

In hindsight, I wonder if I should have let that man help me with the lock. Even though I got it fine by myself a second after I said no, maybe helping someone would have given him some pride, some feeling of self-worth. And if I had let him help me, maybe that would have led into a conversation about whether I could get him something to eat?

My heart breaks for these people. I feel it must be my life's work to help them, by opening a shelter. And here is the irony: the exact type of person that I should be helping is offering me help.

So, the lesson, I guess, would be to stop next time. Listen. Allow the person to help, even if I think I don't need it. Maybe the offering of help is for something else. Maybe it isn't that I needed help with the bicycle lock, but I needed help coming to this realization. Maybe this person offering to help me, was unknowingly offering me a chance to help him.

Courageous. The word of the evening for the homeless demographic. I could have met him with a disdainful gaze for all he knew, because he was carrying his life's possessions in a sack on his back.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Bucket List

A.K.A. My Life's To Do List
This is a project that I did with my class in high school, and I've kept the list, and mentally added things to it here and there. So here is the original list, and as I remember the things that I mentally added, I will add those as well.

  1. Attend Haverford Willamette University.
  2. Teach in France
  3. Grow my hair out (I wish there was a way to double-cross this out, I've done it several times now.)
  4. Graduate from high school
  5. Graduate from college
  6. Go skydiving
  7. Visit England
  8. Excommunicate my father (this one isn't something I'm proud of, but I have my reasons)
  9. Change my name
  10. Visit Paris again
  11. Track down Fanny Dore
  12. Complete 2 out of 3 AP classes with at least a B (Not to brag, but I ended up with all A's in those classes)
  13. Do a board grab off a jump while snowboarding
  14. Take a photography class
  15. Have a child
  16. Marry a man who is good for me
  17. Get contacts
  18. Contact Wayne and Judy (Paris)
  19. Buy a car
  20. Get my license
  21. Write a book
  22. Visit Italy
  23. Read the Bible from cover to cover
  24. See part of the Iditarod race
  25. Meet someone famous
  26. Go to Creation West at the Gorge
  27. Ski at Chamonix
  28. Gallop on a horse without falling off
  29. Run on a daily basis (for a summer)
  30. Visit 25 states (I have five under my belt at the moment)
  31. Get a breast reduction
  32. Drink green tea daily for 6 months
  33. Snowboard until I am physically unable to (age-wise)
  34. Live in a city
  35. Eat dinner in the Space Needle
  36. Meet "The Waiter" (
  37. Visit Switzerland
  38. Eat frog legs
  39. Go snorkeling
  40. Hit a hacky sack five times, consecutively
  41. Read Anna Karenina, and all the other books on my bookshelf that I haven't read yet.
  42. Ace my chem. final (this was in high school)
  43. Learn to speak Italian
  44. Do as many of the "100 Funnest Things to do at Walmart" before I get kicked out.
  45. Tell my father a very bad thing
  46. Take a road trip
  47. Learn to play piano better
  48. Buy a grand piano
  49. Buy a big house for my piano
  50. Somehow connect the poems for my English final
  51. Study in a foreign country (probably won't happen)
  52. Rent a limo
  53. Write 200 posts on my blog (I'm on my way!)
  54. Be quoted
  55. Snowboard at Chamonix
  56. Snowboard at Whistler
  57. Snowboard at Big White
  58. Take my little sister (the older of the two) snowboarding
  59. Moon someone
  60. Go skinny-dipping
  61. Make a will
  62. Get an iPod
  63. Keep up on homework this semester (this is an ongoing endeavor)
  64. Keep up on workload Senior year (this was finished then, but I start Senior year next year too, so I won't cross it off)
  65. Go to Disneyland
  66. Kiss the Blarney Stone
  67. See the Book of Kells
  68. See the Great Wall of China
  69. Walk up the steps of the Eiffel Tower
  70. Elope, or have a big wedding
  71. Learn a new word every day (for one year)
  72. Apply to Haverford University
  73. Choose and apply to grad schools
  74. Move in with AAS
  75. Try a bizarre food, other than frog legs
  76. Work at a boulangerie
  77. Participate in the Penguin Dip, in Clear Lake, WA
  78. Go on a cruise
  79. Sleep naked under the stars
  80. Pick out my burial plot
  81. Go to dinner with CR
  82. Get my tongue pierced
  83. Get my tattoo for Cass
  84. Send myself flowers
  85. Date a French guy
  86. Sleep next to a man I love
  87. Visit Scotland
  88. Major in French



  89. Have my portrait drawn
  90. Visit Denmark
  91. See the Grand Canyon at sunrise
  92. 15 hours of community service
  93. 20 hours of VisComm (another high school thing)
  94. Apply for Best SELF job (I got this one)
  95. Move out
  96. Montana trip with Grandma
  97. Sing karaoke
  98. Get streaks in my hair
  99. Yodel in Switzerland
  100. Drive my kids nuts, like my mom did to me
  101. Get the internship with the DA (I have an interview on Thursday)
  102. Conduct a research project
  103. Spend two months backpacking around the world
  104. Have a post card that I sent to PostSecret published, either on the website, or in the book.
  105. Experience Holi in India, even though I am not Muslim or Hindu.
  106. Have fun at Fete de la Musique in France one year.
  107. Buy a mask for Carnivale in Venice
  108. Graduate from grad school
  109. Get a kick ass job as an attorney, a mediator, or a clinical psychologist.
  110. Go speed dating.
Warning: some of these are no longer relevant
Date a French guy—This is irrelavent. I am currently with the most wonderful guy in the world, who complements all my bad qualities with all his good ones, and loves me just the way I am. I don't want anything else.
Go to dinner with CR—This one has been removed because it is no longer possible. I met CR when I was a sophomore in high school. When I met him, he had just signed up for the military, and was getting ready to head off to Marine boot camp. He had just finished dating this girl, KW, and his hanging out with me made her jealous, to the point of calling me a whore (I never slept with him, or anybody for that matter. She just didn't like the fact that he had kissed me. Once). Anyway, so he went to boot camp, and I wrote him six or seven letters while he was there, and he called me as soon as he got out. When he wrote to me, several times, he mentioned taking me to dinner so I could meet his brother, showing me that he was alright with commitment. However, when he got home, he was very non-committal, and I essentially had to force him to pin down a date that we would do something romantic together. Dinner, a movie, breakfast, whatever. So, we had breakfast, and I was under the impression that we were dating, since he was back, and we had been before he left. Nope. The same day that we went on a "date" (the breakfast date), I found out that he had "cheated" on me (He slept with his ex before he even tried to contact me to let me know he was in town. (There's lots of angsty poetry about it on my blog in places. Check it out. Or not. It really isn't that good. Anyway, back to the story). As a result of sleeping with this girl, he sired a son. Less than a year later, he committed suicide. I found out over the phone.
Get my tongue pierced—I don't really want to do this anymore. I think this was a teenage thing, and since Cass died, I would much rather get the drawing that I designed in her memory tattooed on me. I thought this was going to happen for my birthday, but it turns out that this internship (mentioned above) is unpaid, and as a result, I won't have the money to do it this year. Maybe I'll get it done on the five year anniversary of her death.
Apply to Haverford University—This was originally my top choice in schools, but I never actually applied to it because I got hooked on another school before the deadline and completely lost interest in Haverford. Besides, aside from the fact that I don't really fit at Willamette, I'm pretty happy there, and I like Salem well enough.
Learn to play piano better—I started taking lessons in 6th grade after I started teaching myself. My father and stepmother decided I needed lessons. When I went back to live with my mom, well, she was a single, low-income mom, which isn't to say that she was a bad mom, because I think that God saddled us together because she's the best I could have gotten (meaning there are no others like her, which I'm sure is the truth). Anyway, because she was a single mom who didn't make much, she couldn't afford for me to continue in piano. No big deal. While I liked playing an instrument, I didn't care for it THAT much and I don't really miss practicing.
Buy a grand piano—Again, what would I use it for?
Buy a big house for my piano—This, I think, was mainly for the prestige. I'd rather have a small cottage. Easier to clean.

Anyway, I have an interview for that internship on Thursday. Wish me luck, and if you're religious, pray that God puts me where I need to be. Also, I have a test on Monday, and found out last Friday that I got an 87.5% on a test in my stats class (the mean was 83, I think). It's been a good week.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Hey Everybody! It's Bad Joke Day!

How do you catch a unique rabbit?

Unique up on him!

Feel free to comment with your own bad jokes. I love 'em!

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

What Is Up With That Crazy Weather?

I don't know what's up with that crazy weather in the eastern states, but something sure is, and the weather has been weird here too. Oregon weather reminds me of a song by Relient K (who, by the way I saw in concert two years ago!): "Lately the weather has been so bipolar and consequently so have I." It's true. While the eastern states have been getting all sorts of snowstorms and stuff like that, Salem has been everywhere from rainy and 40 degrees to bright and sunny at a lovely 61 degrees. I LOVE it. But something about it is screwing with my internal clock. I've been so exhausted recently that I've been neglecting my blog, my webcomics (yes, I am a webcomic nerd) and my homework, and apparently I'm not the only one who is feeling it. On top of all that, I'm looking for and submitting my applications for internships right now, when I can find the time (i.e. Thursdays), and the one I'm really hoping to get is a victim assistance position with the State DA's office (that's district attorney for those of you less savy). Basically I would hang out and help victims find stuff they need, as well as accompany them to court. I would get all kinds of experience with different types of victims, so it's a big opportunity for me, and because it's a job with the state, I'll have a great reference on my resume for the future. In fact, it also might lead into a job with the state in the future. So I'll be applying for it on Thursday, and I hope I get it. Wish me luck, and pray for me!

Thursday, February 11, 2010

My great grandma died this morning.
Why do people say passed away? It's such a silly phrase, "Passed away."
Like she left, and it's possible for her to return...
Died is much more finite.
It has more finality to it.
More weight.

And why is it that one can be extremely upset,
Saddened, for one person's death,
But not for another's?

Is it because she was old and therefore it was
Is it because I didn't really know her that well?
Is it because she didn't have much life ahead of her anyway,
Or because she was sick and her quality of life
Wasn't all that good?
Is it because I know that she's in a better place?

Then I think about all the good that she did.
Raising my grandmother and her siblings,
Encouraging her children to lead good lives,
Boiling it down to

Enjoy heaven. Say hi to Grandad for me.
Love you.

So here's to two great old folks in the afterlife.