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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

JMA

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.

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.

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 21^st 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?

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.

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" (waiterrant.net)
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
    Education
    Math
    Psychology
    Theatre Psychology
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 6^th 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.

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!