Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Sunday, December 29, 2013
I'm going to stop pretending that I didn't break your heart
I think I've had this blog for exactly a year now. This is the longest I've stuck with blogging EVER. I really, really, REALLY want to actually do a 365 project, and I'm tempted to try again starting on Wednesday. I didn't really do too badly this year, but I know that once school starts again, it's going to be the last thing I feel like bothering with. I'll make a decision in two days.
I feel like I should definitely at least end the year with a picture. I'll see what I can rustle up in the next two days.
Hopefully, next year, there's far less bullshit in my blog, and way more pictures.
All I want in this world at this very moment is a perfect avocado just for me to eat.
I feel like I should definitely at least end the year with a picture. I'll see what I can rustle up in the next two days.
Hopefully, next year, there's far less bullshit in my blog, and way more pictures.
All I want in this world at this very moment is a perfect avocado just for me to eat.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Make every touch electrical
This is going to be a long post, and there won't be any pictures. Not even any goofy ones of me laying on the floor looking smug for no reason (other than, you know, always being both correct and awesome). I would apologize in advance, but I don't particularly care.
Let's recap what I've been doing for the last few days. If I want to keep the recap brief, I can say I've been watching The Mindy Project pretty much non-stop. I got super addicted to it super fast. I finished the first season last night, and Allen came in and rained on my parade, so I'll have to start the second season when I get home tonight. That's the quick version.
Here's the long version:
Tuesday: I picked up my car from the shitfuck dealership I had it at. I drove it home, even though I knew it was going to die (uh, upon reflection, I think I may have already written about this part. I already know I repeat myself. So, pretty much, suck it fuckers). To my immense delight, it didn't. I took it in for an oil change, and after I had walked home from Jiffy Lube, I got a call asking me if there was a trick to starting my car. Fuck. I told them no, but would they mind trying to jump it for me? Thankfully, they didn't. Even more thankfully, my car started. But that's skipping ahead. I called the dealership again, had the expected, "Hey, you fucking idiots, thanks for sending me out and saying my car is fine because guess what it's not" conversation, though I was ten times more polite about it. They recommended that I replace my battery, because if I bought my battery from Auto Zone...which I did...I was clearly cheap and that's why my battery failed and why my car wouldn't start. This didn't sound right to me, so I took my car from Jiffy Lube and drove it to Auto Zone, petrified my car was going to die as I made a turn into an intersection, and I'd get slammed by somebody, and then I'd be dead. It's just where my head goes. Auto Zone tested my battery, my starter, and my alternator. Everything came up roses (not literally. I mean, if I had roses for a battery, starter, and alternator, then I would obviously know why my car was having trouble. Those things aren't conducive to running a vehicle, though they are lovely to look at). The guy I was talking to at Auto Zone pulled two codes from my car: a TCM code, and a PCM code. I asked him if that would make my car suck at being a car, and he said most definitely. So. Called the dealership AGAIN, told them the battery idea they gave me sucked, and here are the codes I have from my car. Would that make my car do what it did? Yes, the fellow said. They told me to tow my car back in. Fat chance of that, I'm a daredevil (or an idiot, whichever. I think the two are pretty well interchangeable). So I drove it back in, because I can go fuck myself, that's why. I didn't drive it in until Thursday, though. I made an appointment at 11:30 for my car to be looked at. Again. Tuesday night, I asked Allen if he wanted me to make manicotti for dinner, since it was Christmas Eve and all, and we should do something nice together since we didn't have anybody else to spend it with. He didn't, he said that was too involved. I don't even remember what we ate, but it doesn't really matter. We had dinner, then sat on the couch and watched movies and chatted together.
Cue Christmas!
Wednesday: I woke up, made myself some exceptionally tasty coffee (that's the closest thing I have to a Christmas tradition, aside from getting drunk at some point in the day), woke Allen up because I was bored, and he made me buttermilk pancakes with raspberry sauce. That's how we roll. Went to his family's house, ate a shitload of food, drank even more shitloads of booze (my favorite thing to drink in that house is a mix of apple pie whiskey and fireball whiskey. It tastes like fall, and it gets me drunk. Aw yiss), stole the book I bought for Allen, and hid myself away downstairs for the three hours it took me to read it. It crushed my feelings, which I'm also aware that I wrote about. But this is a comprehensive recap. Chris was the only friend of mine that showed up (Stevie and Mike fell asleep at her parents' house, Holly had a hangover, Tosh and Ryan's car broke down because I think I'm contagious, and Sara spent the day with her family), so we all visited with each other for a little bit, with my tear soaked face. But everybody knows better than to make fun of me when I'm emotionally broken after reading a book. Allen passed out pretty early once we got home, so I went to the park. I fell asleep under the trees for a little bit, and when I woke up, I was startled, to say the least. My coffee that I brought was cold and not the best wake-up companion. I walked back home, crawled into bed, and went on to dream about the stars. This is true.
Thursday: Starbucks day. I didn't bring my camera to creep on anybody, but I did sit and enjoy my iced chai soy latte (obviously with cinnamon powder), and I watched everybody interact. It was lovely. People watching is one of my favorite activities when I have nothing else to do. I took my car back in to the dealership from whence it came, even though they're retards. Allen's dad picked me up and dropped me off at Stevie's. She and I fucked around for a little bit, then we went to Petsmart, where I had to exercise all of my restraint to keep myself from buying the cutest fucking rat I've ever seen. I still need my super big cage from Stevie, and then I am definitely buying one more rat. I love my boys, they make me super happy. Stevie and I went back to GMC to see if they'd just figure something out so I could get my fucing rental car that is clearly stated in my warranty that I get if they have to keep my car overnight due to either repairs, or lack of being able to diagnose, or the apocolypse, or whatever the fuck. It's in there, but they were fucking bastards. I don't know if it helped that we were talking to the manager, who thought he was so cool for being the manager, and was also super conservative, and Stevie thought it would be funnier to pass us off as a couple. He was not amused with our lesbian antics, and he flat out refused to talk to me, and just gave me withering glances and kept calling me "your FRIEND" very pointedly when talking to Stevie. We thought it was hilarious that he was such a homophobic cocksucker, but I think it may have bitten me in the ass. He didn't help us at all. Stevie dropped me off at home, and then HER car died. I really, really, really am contagious. Keep me out of your cars, everyone! I get a call a couple of hours later from GMC, saying that they have to do a repair to start diagnosing things properly, but here was the kicker: if it fixed the problem, it's covered under my warranty. If it DOESN'T fix the problem, I had to pay the 400 bucks to repair it, and then they could just keep tinkering. Well, fuck a whole lot of that. So I went and picked up my car. Allen's dad took us there, and followed Allen and I home to make sure that if my car went kaput en route, I wasn't stranded. I stopped and got us Pita Pit, and then I got myself a big fucking bottle of Oakheart Rum, because damn it all, I was going to get wasted. I did make it home without incident. I fell asleep on the couch watching The Mindy Project.
Friday. Yesterday. By far my most favorite fucking day of the week, because I sure as fuck raised twenty shitstorms: I picked Alen up from work, and I felt bold enough to run an errand. Mistake! My car died again. So, after I got it to start again, I drove it home and called GMC. I asked for the service manager, because at this point, I'd fucking had it. They didn't connect me to the service manager, they connected me to the condescending fuckface that's been dealing with me the entire time. Can I talk to your manager was the first question I asked, and of course, the manager isn't there. Put me through to his voicemail was my next statement, but that didn't fly. So, I let Anthony have it. Insofar as I could, at any rate. I started off by saying that they'd been doing an awful lot of fucking guesswork on my vehicle, and they're asking me to make gambles with 400 dollars that I can't afford at the moment for something that might not work, and if he's a car technician, why can't he figure out what's going on? This is when he started to talk over me, and that's when I got NASTY. I may have used the word ineptitude, I may have also used the words "fucking rude" and "god damn useless". When I say may have, this time I mean I actually didn't. I definitely did use the word ineptitude, but I didn't swear, and I was absolutely firm when I could get a word in edgewise, but I was never, EVER that rude. The conversation ended with me being told that they refused to work on my car, because there were too many problems, me demanding to be put through to the service manager's voicemail, and him hanging up on me. I didn't even know what to do at that point. So, I did the only thing my brain could think of: I threw my phone...um...very gently at the couch, because I didn't want to break it, but I did want to throw a temper tantrum...and I sat down in the middle of the living room, looked at Allen and said, "I'm so fucking frustrated!" and then I cried. I cried hard. For about five minutes. Then I called my dealership back, and talked to two different managers. Who were both SO FUCKING AMAZING. They were kind, and patient, and the first manager I talked to, Andy, was very understanding when I started to cry on the phone. I definitely appreciated that. Anyway, they told me to go to Al Serra, they made the appointment for me, and I have to bring my car in on Monday morning. Stevie and I were supposed to go to Tucanos, because she said she wanted to do something nice for me since I'd had such a terrible week and a half, but that fell through. So, Allen made me chicken parmesan (he makes it better than I do, which frankly makes me mad) to cheer me up. It was delicious. We watched two episodes of The Mindy Project, then we watched Pacific Rim (which was so fucking stupid, but in a way that I completely enjoyed) and then we started a Rifftrax, but Allen went to bed. Understandably, I was fucking shithammered the entire evening. I started drinking at 9, and didn't stop until 1. I know I was texting Derek all night, but I didn't want to read the conversation we had, because I'm an idiot when I'm drunk. I remember some of it, but it makes me bush. This is why I shouldn't be allowed to text men when I'm drunk and they're out of town. It's a catalyst that creates an awkward situation for me in the morning. It doesn't matter how much sex I've had with someone, or how intimate we are at that point in time. Those two things combined...me drunk, and someone out of town...are never, ever going to make something positive.Though he texted me this morning with, "...Did we survive the night?" So I told him I stayed up until 3 watching Law and Order SVU (Truth! I watched another episode when I woke up at 7 this morning), and I flat out refused to read anything I said to him yesterday night, because I didn't want to embarrass myself. We've been chatting away, so I couldn't have been THAT drunk and stupid. Either that, or I was and he finds it charming. Which is possible. People are weird.
It's been an interesting few days. I'm hoping that my bad car luck is almost over. I haven't been able to go to my gym, so I wasted this month's membership (between being sick and being carless), but walking damn near everywhere has been nice. Cold, and it makes me cough, but nice just the same.
So that's my long winded recap of everything that's gone on.
Despite my frustration, I've actually been in a fantastic mood the last few days. Fantastic. I'm thinking of taking a long, long, LONG walk when I get home and taking pictures, because I haven't really taken any lately. I've missed it. I'm supposed to go out with my friend Nick and take pictures some time soon, but I've had to keep putting it off. Maybe I'll see if he wants to go out tonight.
Let's recap what I've been doing for the last few days. If I want to keep the recap brief, I can say I've been watching The Mindy Project pretty much non-stop. I got super addicted to it super fast. I finished the first season last night, and Allen came in and rained on my parade, so I'll have to start the second season when I get home tonight. That's the quick version.
Here's the long version:
Tuesday: I picked up my car from the shitfuck dealership I had it at. I drove it home, even though I knew it was going to die (uh, upon reflection, I think I may have already written about this part. I already know I repeat myself. So, pretty much, suck it fuckers). To my immense delight, it didn't. I took it in for an oil change, and after I had walked home from Jiffy Lube, I got a call asking me if there was a trick to starting my car. Fuck. I told them no, but would they mind trying to jump it for me? Thankfully, they didn't. Even more thankfully, my car started. But that's skipping ahead. I called the dealership again, had the expected, "Hey, you fucking idiots, thanks for sending me out and saying my car is fine because guess what it's not" conversation, though I was ten times more polite about it. They recommended that I replace my battery, because if I bought my battery from Auto Zone...which I did...I was clearly cheap and that's why my battery failed and why my car wouldn't start. This didn't sound right to me, so I took my car from Jiffy Lube and drove it to Auto Zone, petrified my car was going to die as I made a turn into an intersection, and I'd get slammed by somebody, and then I'd be dead. It's just where my head goes. Auto Zone tested my battery, my starter, and my alternator. Everything came up roses (not literally. I mean, if I had roses for a battery, starter, and alternator, then I would obviously know why my car was having trouble. Those things aren't conducive to running a vehicle, though they are lovely to look at). The guy I was talking to at Auto Zone pulled two codes from my car: a TCM code, and a PCM code. I asked him if that would make my car suck at being a car, and he said most definitely. So. Called the dealership AGAIN, told them the battery idea they gave me sucked, and here are the codes I have from my car. Would that make my car do what it did? Yes, the fellow said. They told me to tow my car back in. Fat chance of that, I'm a daredevil (or an idiot, whichever. I think the two are pretty well interchangeable). So I drove it back in, because I can go fuck myself, that's why. I didn't drive it in until Thursday, though. I made an appointment at 11:30 for my car to be looked at. Again. Tuesday night, I asked Allen if he wanted me to make manicotti for dinner, since it was Christmas Eve and all, and we should do something nice together since we didn't have anybody else to spend it with. He didn't, he said that was too involved. I don't even remember what we ate, but it doesn't really matter. We had dinner, then sat on the couch and watched movies and chatted together.
Cue Christmas!
Wednesday: I woke up, made myself some exceptionally tasty coffee (that's the closest thing I have to a Christmas tradition, aside from getting drunk at some point in the day), woke Allen up because I was bored, and he made me buttermilk pancakes with raspberry sauce. That's how we roll. Went to his family's house, ate a shitload of food, drank even more shitloads of booze (my favorite thing to drink in that house is a mix of apple pie whiskey and fireball whiskey. It tastes like fall, and it gets me drunk. Aw yiss), stole the book I bought for Allen, and hid myself away downstairs for the three hours it took me to read it. It crushed my feelings, which I'm also aware that I wrote about. But this is a comprehensive recap. Chris was the only friend of mine that showed up (Stevie and Mike fell asleep at her parents' house, Holly had a hangover, Tosh and Ryan's car broke down because I think I'm contagious, and Sara spent the day with her family), so we all visited with each other for a little bit, with my tear soaked face. But everybody knows better than to make fun of me when I'm emotionally broken after reading a book. Allen passed out pretty early once we got home, so I went to the park. I fell asleep under the trees for a little bit, and when I woke up, I was startled, to say the least. My coffee that I brought was cold and not the best wake-up companion. I walked back home, crawled into bed, and went on to dream about the stars. This is true.
Thursday: Starbucks day. I didn't bring my camera to creep on anybody, but I did sit and enjoy my iced chai soy latte (obviously with cinnamon powder), and I watched everybody interact. It was lovely. People watching is one of my favorite activities when I have nothing else to do. I took my car back in to the dealership from whence it came, even though they're retards. Allen's dad picked me up and dropped me off at Stevie's. She and I fucked around for a little bit, then we went to Petsmart, where I had to exercise all of my restraint to keep myself from buying the cutest fucking rat I've ever seen. I still need my super big cage from Stevie, and then I am definitely buying one more rat. I love my boys, they make me super happy. Stevie and I went back to GMC to see if they'd just figure something out so I could get my fucing rental car that is clearly stated in my warranty that I get if they have to keep my car overnight due to either repairs, or lack of being able to diagnose, or the apocolypse, or whatever the fuck. It's in there, but they were fucking bastards. I don't know if it helped that we were talking to the manager, who thought he was so cool for being the manager, and was also super conservative, and Stevie thought it would be funnier to pass us off as a couple. He was not amused with our lesbian antics, and he flat out refused to talk to me, and just gave me withering glances and kept calling me "your FRIEND" very pointedly when talking to Stevie. We thought it was hilarious that he was such a homophobic cocksucker, but I think it may have bitten me in the ass. He didn't help us at all. Stevie dropped me off at home, and then HER car died. I really, really, really am contagious. Keep me out of your cars, everyone! I get a call a couple of hours later from GMC, saying that they have to do a repair to start diagnosing things properly, but here was the kicker: if it fixed the problem, it's covered under my warranty. If it DOESN'T fix the problem, I had to pay the 400 bucks to repair it, and then they could just keep tinkering. Well, fuck a whole lot of that. So I went and picked up my car. Allen's dad took us there, and followed Allen and I home to make sure that if my car went kaput en route, I wasn't stranded. I stopped and got us Pita Pit, and then I got myself a big fucking bottle of Oakheart Rum, because damn it all, I was going to get wasted. I did make it home without incident. I fell asleep on the couch watching The Mindy Project.
Friday. Yesterday. By far my most favorite fucking day of the week, because I sure as fuck raised twenty shitstorms: I picked Alen up from work, and I felt bold enough to run an errand. Mistake! My car died again. So, after I got it to start again, I drove it home and called GMC. I asked for the service manager, because at this point, I'd fucking had it. They didn't connect me to the service manager, they connected me to the condescending fuckface that's been dealing with me the entire time. Can I talk to your manager was the first question I asked, and of course, the manager isn't there. Put me through to his voicemail was my next statement, but that didn't fly. So, I let Anthony have it. Insofar as I could, at any rate. I started off by saying that they'd been doing an awful lot of fucking guesswork on my vehicle, and they're asking me to make gambles with 400 dollars that I can't afford at the moment for something that might not work, and if he's a car technician, why can't he figure out what's going on? This is when he started to talk over me, and that's when I got NASTY. I may have used the word ineptitude, I may have also used the words "fucking rude" and "god damn useless". When I say may have, this time I mean I actually didn't. I definitely did use the word ineptitude, but I didn't swear, and I was absolutely firm when I could get a word in edgewise, but I was never, EVER that rude. The conversation ended with me being told that they refused to work on my car, because there were too many problems, me demanding to be put through to the service manager's voicemail, and him hanging up on me. I didn't even know what to do at that point. So, I did the only thing my brain could think of: I threw my phone...um...very gently at the couch, because I didn't want to break it, but I did want to throw a temper tantrum...and I sat down in the middle of the living room, looked at Allen and said, "I'm so fucking frustrated!" and then I cried. I cried hard. For about five minutes. Then I called my dealership back, and talked to two different managers. Who were both SO FUCKING AMAZING. They were kind, and patient, and the first manager I talked to, Andy, was very understanding when I started to cry on the phone. I definitely appreciated that. Anyway, they told me to go to Al Serra, they made the appointment for me, and I have to bring my car in on Monday morning. Stevie and I were supposed to go to Tucanos, because she said she wanted to do something nice for me since I'd had such a terrible week and a half, but that fell through. So, Allen made me chicken parmesan (he makes it better than I do, which frankly makes me mad) to cheer me up. It was delicious. We watched two episodes of The Mindy Project, then we watched Pacific Rim (which was so fucking stupid, but in a way that I completely enjoyed) and then we started a Rifftrax, but Allen went to bed. Understandably, I was fucking shithammered the entire evening. I started drinking at 9, and didn't stop until 1. I know I was texting Derek all night, but I didn't want to read the conversation we had, because I'm an idiot when I'm drunk. I remember some of it, but it makes me bush. This is why I shouldn't be allowed to text men when I'm drunk and they're out of town. It's a catalyst that creates an awkward situation for me in the morning. It doesn't matter how much sex I've had with someone, or how intimate we are at that point in time. Those two things combined...me drunk, and someone out of town...are never, ever going to make something positive.Though he texted me this morning with, "...Did we survive the night?" So I told him I stayed up until 3 watching Law and Order SVU (Truth! I watched another episode when I woke up at 7 this morning), and I flat out refused to read anything I said to him yesterday night, because I didn't want to embarrass myself. We've been chatting away, so I couldn't have been THAT drunk and stupid. Either that, or I was and he finds it charming. Which is possible. People are weird.
It's been an interesting few days. I'm hoping that my bad car luck is almost over. I haven't been able to go to my gym, so I wasted this month's membership (between being sick and being carless), but walking damn near everywhere has been nice. Cold, and it makes me cough, but nice just the same.
So that's my long winded recap of everything that's gone on.
Despite my frustration, I've actually been in a fantastic mood the last few days. Fantastic. I'm thinking of taking a long, long, LONG walk when I get home and taking pictures, because I haven't really taken any lately. I've missed it. I'm supposed to go out with my friend Nick and take pictures some time soon, but I've had to keep putting it off. Maybe I'll see if he wants to go out tonight.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Like a bad star
I just took a picture of my face, but I won't post it. It's the face of a girl that just spent three hours devouring The Fault In Our Stars, and spent the last twenty minutes of reading weeping uncontrollably.
I saw the end coming, but I didn't see it coming the way it panned out. It took me off guard.
I love that feeling. The feeling you get when you're lost in the world of someone else's making, and you forget it's not real. And when that link is broken and life is life again, you have a new perspective, or a new passion, or you remember. Sometimes it hurts, like right now, but even through the hurt, it's so amazing and wonderful. Because I get to.
I saw the end coming, but I didn't see it coming the way it panned out. It took me off guard.
I love that feeling. The feeling you get when you're lost in the world of someone else's making, and you forget it's not real. And when that link is broken and life is life again, you have a new perspective, or a new passion, or you remember. Sometimes it hurts, like right now, but even through the hurt, it's so amazing and wonderful. Because I get to.
I'm trying hard to make it back
I had such a delicious morning. I made myself coffee, Allen made me pancakes with raspberries, and I caught up on a little bit of reading. I got a Little Mermaid shirt, and it's awesome. I'm wearing it right now, but only because my Labyrinth shirt is dirty. I'm also wearing a granny sweater, because why not?
Exhibit a:
I also dyed my hair. It's a day of alsos.
I watched hours of Big Think last night. Before I realized it, it was 1:00 am, and my tummy was so full of learning. I couldn't stop watching. I have a few I want to post, but it'll have to wait until I get home.
I'm sure I'll write again later, but I think I'm going to go take a nap right now. I'm sleepy.
Exhibit a:
I watched hours of Big Think last night. Before I realized it, it was 1:00 am, and my tummy was so full of learning. I couldn't stop watching. I have a few I want to post, but it'll have to wait until I get home.
I'm sure I'll write again later, but I think I'm going to go take a nap right now. I'm sleepy.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Welcome to My Feels Hurt! Population: My broken feels
Merry Christmas, have some tears!
I'm off for the next few days, and I'm spending Christmas with Allen's family and my friends. I'm hugely excited. I have wrapping presents to do, I may try and brave the mall today, we'll see how ambitious I'm feeling.
I feel like I should have some Starbucks or something. Maybe. I'm going to go get my car, and I'm super fucking happy. Except I'm pretty sure it's just going to die again. Oy. I'm hoping for the best, but expecting the realistic.
I'm off for the next few days, and I'm spending Christmas with Allen's family and my friends. I'm hugely excited. I have wrapping presents to do, I may try and brave the mall today, we'll see how ambitious I'm feeling.
I feel like I should have some Starbucks or something. Maybe. I'm going to go get my car, and I'm super fucking happy. Except I'm pretty sure it's just going to die again. Oy. I'm hoping for the best, but expecting the realistic.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Don't you know any other adjectives?
I just came home from a walk. It's bitter and cold outside. I went to the park, sat on the swings, and stared up into the cloudy sky. The clouds were too thick to find things in, though that doesn't stop me from trying.
My heart hurts tonight.
I took two xanax, and now I'm watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
I love my labyrinth shirt. I wore it around earlier, and I would be sleeping in it, but I'm wearing it tomorrow to work. I've been positively giddy about it all day. Putting it on was the first thing I did when I came home from work. I've been smiling about it all day. I love it so much.
My heart hurts tonight.
I took two xanax, and now I'm watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
I love my labyrinth shirt. I wore it around earlier, and I would be sleeping in it, but I'm wearing it tomorrow to work. I've been positively giddy about it all day. Putting it on was the first thing I did when I came home from work. I've been smiling about it all day. I love it so much.
Mr. Rochester was an exploding car
I'm just kind of waiting for this day to hit rock bottom. I'm just venting here to make myself feel a bit better, because really I'm not in THAT bad a mood. It's been a pretty decent day, if you subtract all of the bullshit.
Let's tick down the list, shall we? But I'm going to include everything in it, even the good stuff.
- Jennifer was late picking me up this morning. Which didn't really bother me. She's doing me a favor, and I texted Monica to tell her what happened, and she was fine with it. I'm not in trouble, it just set the tone for the day.
- There was a HUGE...I mean HUGE...box of chocolates waiting for me as a Christmas present from one of the agents. Obviously, I've stuck it on the counter so everybody else can eat it. Thoughtful! But it makes me sad. Frowns!!
- I've gotten several gifts from agents for Christmas (a pretty hefty gift card, 100 bucks, a Starbucks giftcard, a scarf, and my favorite, the biggest bottle of Private Stock I've ever laid my eyes upon. Among others), and it's been lovely.
- They can't look at my car until fucking THURSDAY now. They sort of looked at it, but since I have a couple of Transmission codes in there, they're sending it to their transmission tech. Thursday. THURSDAY IS NOT TODAY. And I need my car three days ago. I also think it's wildly ineffective if they're just going to send my car off to a different person for each code they find. You have a few transmission codes? New technician. But you also have a computer code...new technician. At this rate, they'll have my car fully diagnosed by 2017. Mid July. Just in time for my birthday!
- They can't give me a loaner car, because Drea can get fucked, that's why. I, in very out of character fashion, threw a mighty conniption fit. As nicely as I could, of course, but a fit was thrown just the same. I talked to the service guy, a finance guy, the service manager, and the finance manager. Nothing. No loaner. Because I'm an out of dealership warranty. Or because they just don't like the cut of my jib.
- I'm on academic warning, because I fucked something up due to a misunderstanding. This is fine, at the end of the day, because it doesn't fucking with my grants, scholarships, or anything else. I just have to not make the same fuck up this semester, and keep my GPA above a 2.0. Which, honestly, is adorable. It's cute that they gave me such a low bar. Fuck that bar, I care not for it. It's below me. Get it? I AM FUCKING HILARIOUS.
- I get to save 300 bucks on my books for this semester, because I already have two of them! Yay!! So, I'll still be spending 700 bucks on learning (my accounting principles book is 325 damn dollars. I know accounting already. A/R and A/P for ten years now. Just give me a laser pointer, I'll teach the damn class. It's adorable that I think I know accounting in the way I'm going to learn it, isn't it? I'm so cute), but it could have been a grand. 300 extra bucks for me.
- I dropped two of my classes, so I'm only taking 15 credits this semester instead of 22. I'm doing my best to be cautious right now, because if something else in my life goes wrong, the ONE thing I am not willing to compromise is school. Everything else is whatever. Not school. It is the single most important thing in my life right now. So if I have to slow down a little bit and tack on an extra year to my graduation schedule, I'm fine with that. I'd rather not, but I am erring on the side of caution. School is too important for me not to.
I want Garbanzo, but can't get there. I'm not taking a lunch today, because I need to leave at 4 so Tosh can take me home. She's bottling her wine at 5, and I didn't want to wait around while they did that. I just want to go home and soak in my tub with a stiff as fuck drink. Which is precisely what I plan on doing, for those of you playing the home game.
I'm officially done with this day. Thank goodness it's almost over.
Let's tick down the list, shall we? But I'm going to include everything in it, even the good stuff.
- Jennifer was late picking me up this morning. Which didn't really bother me. She's doing me a favor, and I texted Monica to tell her what happened, and she was fine with it. I'm not in trouble, it just set the tone for the day.
- There was a HUGE...I mean HUGE...box of chocolates waiting for me as a Christmas present from one of the agents. Obviously, I've stuck it on the counter so everybody else can eat it. Thoughtful! But it makes me sad. Frowns!!
- I've gotten several gifts from agents for Christmas (a pretty hefty gift card, 100 bucks, a Starbucks giftcard, a scarf, and my favorite, the biggest bottle of Private Stock I've ever laid my eyes upon. Among others), and it's been lovely.
- They can't look at my car until fucking THURSDAY now. They sort of looked at it, but since I have a couple of Transmission codes in there, they're sending it to their transmission tech. Thursday. THURSDAY IS NOT TODAY. And I need my car three days ago. I also think it's wildly ineffective if they're just going to send my car off to a different person for each code they find. You have a few transmission codes? New technician. But you also have a computer code...new technician. At this rate, they'll have my car fully diagnosed by 2017. Mid July. Just in time for my birthday!
- They can't give me a loaner car, because Drea can get fucked, that's why. I, in very out of character fashion, threw a mighty conniption fit. As nicely as I could, of course, but a fit was thrown just the same. I talked to the service guy, a finance guy, the service manager, and the finance manager. Nothing. No loaner. Because I'm an out of dealership warranty. Or because they just don't like the cut of my jib.
- I'm on academic warning, because I fucked something up due to a misunderstanding. This is fine, at the end of the day, because it doesn't fucking with my grants, scholarships, or anything else. I just have to not make the same fuck up this semester, and keep my GPA above a 2.0. Which, honestly, is adorable. It's cute that they gave me such a low bar. Fuck that bar, I care not for it. It's below me. Get it? I AM FUCKING HILARIOUS.
- I get to save 300 bucks on my books for this semester, because I already have two of them! Yay!! So, I'll still be spending 700 bucks on learning (my accounting principles book is 325 damn dollars. I know accounting already. A/R and A/P for ten years now. Just give me a laser pointer, I'll teach the damn class. It's adorable that I think I know accounting in the way I'm going to learn it, isn't it? I'm so cute), but it could have been a grand. 300 extra bucks for me.
- I dropped two of my classes, so I'm only taking 15 credits this semester instead of 22. I'm doing my best to be cautious right now, because if something else in my life goes wrong, the ONE thing I am not willing to compromise is school. Everything else is whatever. Not school. It is the single most important thing in my life right now. So if I have to slow down a little bit and tack on an extra year to my graduation schedule, I'm fine with that. I'd rather not, but I am erring on the side of caution. School is too important for me not to.
I want Garbanzo, but can't get there. I'm not taking a lunch today, because I need to leave at 4 so Tosh can take me home. She's bottling her wine at 5, and I didn't want to wait around while they did that. I just want to go home and soak in my tub with a stiff as fuck drink. Which is precisely what I plan on doing, for those of you playing the home game.
I'm officially done with this day. Thank goodness it's almost over.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Hypocapnia my ass.
I finally got to see a huge number of views for my blog. 11,111. Aw yiss.
In today-was-totally-fucking-shit news, let's tick down the list of what happened:
- FedEx Office decided to be completely incompetent. Not terribly huge, but it's the tip of the iceberg.
- When I was getting ready to leave their parking lot, my car decides to die. Like a fucking champion. After a few minutes of me doing the following...crying hysterically, calling my professor to extend my presentation, calling my mom while still in hysterics, then talking to her serviceman, my car starts. Yay!
- While driving out of the parking lot, my car died. AGAIN.
- I called Tom to see if he'd come get me. Stevie got me first. Tom and Stevie got into a bicker war, which is completely my fault. Cool times.
- I got home and found out my car has a warranty, but I might be outside of it, because I somehow managed to drive 24 thousand miles in a year. I didn't even fucking go anywhere exciting. How did I manage that? There's still hope that I'm wrong about the amount of miles that were on the car, so that may not be wholly bad.
- Allen and I were eating dinner together and happily watching Star Trek when I get a text from The Swede, which promptly put me in a foul (read: upset to the point of tears) mood. It would have just been easier if he had stayed gone. I don't know how many times in my life I can say that and mean it before my heart breaks completely.
This is not to say that I am so broken up over The Swede and what he said that it's going to ruin me forever. Quite the contrary. I literally cried a few tears, and while I'm upset and disappointed, I'm going to be fine tomorrow. Do I feel foolish for believing the things he said to me the night before he disappeared? Of course I do. Anybody would. Then again, taking people at face value has always been my problem. I've always run under the assumption that because I wouldn't treat people a certain way, that they'd do me the courtesy So rarely is that the case. Such a shame, really. Maybe one day I'll be right.
I talked to my mom about this the other night. My mom thinks I'm a sex addict, and she's not the only person who thinks that. However, I don't speak about my growing understanding of my pathology, because I don't think I'm ready to discuss all of it at once yet. She did say that I need to go out of my way to not fuck anybody for a long, long time. She said I've let my sexuality define me, and that's not something anybody should ever do, especially somebody like me who has so much more to offer than that, and sex should be the least exciting thing about me. It's difficult to get into that mindset, honestly.
In today-was-totally-fucking-shit news, let's tick down the list of what happened:
- FedEx Office decided to be completely incompetent. Not terribly huge, but it's the tip of the iceberg.
- When I was getting ready to leave their parking lot, my car decides to die. Like a fucking champion. After a few minutes of me doing the following...crying hysterically, calling my professor to extend my presentation, calling my mom while still in hysterics, then talking to her serviceman, my car starts. Yay!
- While driving out of the parking lot, my car died. AGAIN.
- I called Tom to see if he'd come get me. Stevie got me first. Tom and Stevie got into a bicker war, which is completely my fault. Cool times.
- I got home and found out my car has a warranty, but I might be outside of it, because I somehow managed to drive 24 thousand miles in a year. I didn't even fucking go anywhere exciting. How did I manage that? There's still hope that I'm wrong about the amount of miles that were on the car, so that may not be wholly bad.
- Allen and I were eating dinner together and happily watching Star Trek when I get a text from The Swede, which promptly put me in a foul (read: upset to the point of tears) mood. It would have just been easier if he had stayed gone. I don't know how many times in my life I can say that and mean it before my heart breaks completely.
This is not to say that I am so broken up over The Swede and what he said that it's going to ruin me forever. Quite the contrary. I literally cried a few tears, and while I'm upset and disappointed, I'm going to be fine tomorrow. Do I feel foolish for believing the things he said to me the night before he disappeared? Of course I do. Anybody would. Then again, taking people at face value has always been my problem. I've always run under the assumption that because I wouldn't treat people a certain way, that they'd do me the courtesy So rarely is that the case. Such a shame, really. Maybe one day I'll be right.
I talked to my mom about this the other night. My mom thinks I'm a sex addict, and she's not the only person who thinks that. However, I don't speak about my growing understanding of my pathology, because I don't think I'm ready to discuss all of it at once yet. She did say that I need to go out of my way to not fuck anybody for a long, long time. She said I've let my sexuality define me, and that's not something anybody should ever do, especially somebody like me who has so much more to offer than that, and sex should be the least exciting thing about me. It's difficult to get into that mindset, honestly.
Monday, December 16, 2013
It's only for forever; it's not long at all.
I've slept more in the last four days than I think I have since the semester started. None of the front desk staff is at work today. Monica, Sara, and myself are all out of commission. I chatted with Holly a little bit today, since she's covering for us. This is the first time none of us have been there.
I think, the second I feel well enough to not just sit up for a few minutes at a time, but can stand, as well, I'm going to suck it up and get my hairs cut. I'm thinking of cutting everything at shoulder length and going with a bob. That may be delirium talking, however.
I've been having strange fever dreams. Some of them have been scary, a few of them have been lovely, and one or two have been so sad I've woken up crying out loud. Those ones are the worst.
I awoke this morning to pictures of bunnies sticking out their tongues, and puns for English nerds. The puns made me laugh so hard I couldn't stop coughing. Oh, puns. Don't let anybody make you think you're the lowest form of wit EVER. You do delight me so.
I was watching Rifftrax today, and Chris stopped by to check up on me. Well, sort of. He needed something that I had, but we'll say he did it to be a good friend. I accidentally coined the term "glitterature". I told him that I either did something so horrible to The Swede that he doesn't care about the stuff of his that I have, or he's possibly literally dead. Either way, I'm sad and disappointed. Nursing the wound continues.
I talked to my dad today. He's going to see The Hobbit. I want to go see it, too, but again, this pesky inability of mine to actually function as an adult in any position other than prostrate is keeping me from it. Maybe later this week.
How can one person be this tired? I feel like the world is crushing my chest in.
I think, the second I feel well enough to not just sit up for a few minutes at a time, but can stand, as well, I'm going to suck it up and get my hairs cut. I'm thinking of cutting everything at shoulder length and going with a bob. That may be delirium talking, however.
I've been having strange fever dreams. Some of them have been scary, a few of them have been lovely, and one or two have been so sad I've woken up crying out loud. Those ones are the worst.
I awoke this morning to pictures of bunnies sticking out their tongues, and puns for English nerds. The puns made me laugh so hard I couldn't stop coughing. Oh, puns. Don't let anybody make you think you're the lowest form of wit EVER. You do delight me so.
I was watching Rifftrax today, and Chris stopped by to check up on me. Well, sort of. He needed something that I had, but we'll say he did it to be a good friend. I accidentally coined the term "glitterature". I told him that I either did something so horrible to The Swede that he doesn't care about the stuff of his that I have, or he's possibly literally dead. Either way, I'm sad and disappointed. Nursing the wound continues.
I talked to my dad today. He's going to see The Hobbit. I want to go see it, too, but again, this pesky inability of mine to actually function as an adult in any position other than prostrate is keeping me from it. Maybe later this week.
How can one person be this tired? I feel like the world is crushing my chest in.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Run away with me. Experience something new.
Welp.
I spent today sleeping until 11:30. Did I feel better? Not even a little bit.
I am pretty sure I've been keeping the Florida Orange groves financially afloat with how much OJ I've purchased and subsequently drunk over the last two days (we're going two gallons strong here. I feel like my kidneys want to object, but fuck them).
I had my final quiz and exam due tonight by midnight (my business final was three different things. Ew). So, what did I do? I slept all fucking day, like a responsible adult. I woke up at 8 feeling addled, weak, and with the driest mouth EVER. I pissed about for a little bit, just being generally moan-y, and I finally read my last 40 pages and took my quiz and exam. The results? Not good. A 75 on my quiz, and a 71 on my exam.
Am I proud of that? No. The LOWEST score I ever got on a quiz was a 75 (though it should have been an 80. MY professor is just stubborn), and the lowest score I got on an exam was a 90. Yes, I could blame my lack of desire to read and do everything, but I am instead going to blame my cold. Which really is doing a number on me. I'm pretty sure I actually have the flu.
My mom and I were texting earlier, and I told her that being sick is the time when I wish I had a lap to curl into that belongs to someone who gives a fuck about me. She said I'm very strange, and then sent me a picture of her Christmas tree.
I'm deeply unhappy about having to go to work tomorrow. I may call off on Monday if this hasn't cleared up. I can't taste or smell or hear really anything at all. I feel like an old person.
I have one last final to finish tomorrow before 5. IT's a writing final, which should be just gravy for me. I'm not terribly worried about it.
I managed a B in philosophy, which surprises me greatly. Even with tonight's horrific display, I'm pretty sure I still got an A in my business class. My other class grades have to wait until next Thursday when they're released.
I'm about to medicate myself again so I can be functional for work tomorrow. Gross. I don't wanna.
I want a lap. And a rub.
I spent today sleeping until 11:30. Did I feel better? Not even a little bit.
I am pretty sure I've been keeping the Florida Orange groves financially afloat with how much OJ I've purchased and subsequently drunk over the last two days (we're going two gallons strong here. I feel like my kidneys want to object, but fuck them).
I had my final quiz and exam due tonight by midnight (my business final was three different things. Ew). So, what did I do? I slept all fucking day, like a responsible adult. I woke up at 8 feeling addled, weak, and with the driest mouth EVER. I pissed about for a little bit, just being generally moan-y, and I finally read my last 40 pages and took my quiz and exam. The results? Not good. A 75 on my quiz, and a 71 on my exam.
Am I proud of that? No. The LOWEST score I ever got on a quiz was a 75 (though it should have been an 80. MY professor is just stubborn), and the lowest score I got on an exam was a 90. Yes, I could blame my lack of desire to read and do everything, but I am instead going to blame my cold. Which really is doing a number on me. I'm pretty sure I actually have the flu.
My mom and I were texting earlier, and I told her that being sick is the time when I wish I had a lap to curl into that belongs to someone who gives a fuck about me. She said I'm very strange, and then sent me a picture of her Christmas tree.
I'm deeply unhappy about having to go to work tomorrow. I may call off on Monday if this hasn't cleared up. I can't taste or smell or hear really anything at all. I feel like an old person.
I have one last final to finish tomorrow before 5. IT's a writing final, which should be just gravy for me. I'm not terribly worried about it.
I managed a B in philosophy, which surprises me greatly. Even with tonight's horrific display, I'm pretty sure I still got an A in my business class. My other class grades have to wait until next Thursday when they're released.
I'm about to medicate myself again so I can be functional for work tomorrow. Gross. I don't wanna.
I want a lap. And a rub.
Friday, December 13, 2013
Hey, it's nice to meet you, I am missus self destruct.
So, I'm pretty sure I fucking killed my philosophy final. Hard. I want to write all about it, but I'll have to save that for tomorrow.
I went and bought myself some soup from Bhan Thai, because it is delicious and soup is the go to when you have the flu. I ate half of it, and now I feel heavy and slightly nauseous. Which may be because I've had nearly half a gallon of orange juice today.
I have one last final to do. I cannot concentrate on the reading material any more. I'm going to medicate myself (Xanax, you're my best friend!) and pass the fuck out for hopefully more than 12 hours. I have until midnight tomorrow to finish it, so I will meet it with a less heavy head tomorrow.
For now, good fucking night Irene.
I went and bought myself some soup from Bhan Thai, because it is delicious and soup is the go to when you have the flu. I ate half of it, and now I feel heavy and slightly nauseous. Which may be because I've had nearly half a gallon of orange juice today.
I have one last final to do. I cannot concentrate on the reading material any more. I'm going to medicate myself (Xanax, you're my best friend!) and pass the fuck out for hopefully more than 12 hours. I have until midnight tomorrow to finish it, so I will meet it with a less heavy head tomorrow.
For now, good fucking night Irene.
Dualism and you: a horror story of epic proportions
So, here's the deal.
I rejoined my gym two days ago. I didn't go yesterday or today, because I'm ill and I don't think they want my germs. I also don't know if my mucous-caked lungs could take it.
But if I feel better tomorrow, I'm going. Not running has been, oddly, miserable for me. I hate the inactivity that breaking my toe brought on. I did go running a week ago, which was delightful, but it's been so cold that the gym just seems like a safer bet.
I'm going to post this, much to my dismay:
Yuck. I'm not pleased that that is me. But I'm going to go to the gym at least five times a week, and do what I was doing before, and we'll see where we're at in two months. Well, where I'M at.
I'm trying so hard to study for this final, but my brain refuses to concentrate or retain anything. I fucking hate being sick.
I grabbed myself some Mucinex Severe Congestion and Cough, and I'm hoping it kicks in sooner rather than later. I'm taking off of work tomorrow, because I don't think I'll be able to function. Aside from my brain feeling pretty much like eggs that have been thrown into a car accident. my body feels three minutes away from broken. I have the very real feeling that once I'm done with my final tonight, I'm going to go into full on sickness mode. I'm being as tough as I can, because I know I have to be.
I hope I feel better tomorrow. I can't wait to get back to the gym, and not feel like roadkill.
I rejoined my gym two days ago. I didn't go yesterday or today, because I'm ill and I don't think they want my germs. I also don't know if my mucous-caked lungs could take it.
But if I feel better tomorrow, I'm going. Not running has been, oddly, miserable for me. I hate the inactivity that breaking my toe brought on. I did go running a week ago, which was delightful, but it's been so cold that the gym just seems like a safer bet.
I'm going to post this, much to my dismay:
I'm trying so hard to study for this final, but my brain refuses to concentrate or retain anything. I fucking hate being sick.
I grabbed myself some Mucinex Severe Congestion and Cough, and I'm hoping it kicks in sooner rather than later. I'm taking off of work tomorrow, because I don't think I'll be able to function. Aside from my brain feeling pretty much like eggs that have been thrown into a car accident. my body feels three minutes away from broken. I have the very real feeling that once I'm done with my final tonight, I'm going to go into full on sickness mode. I'm being as tough as I can, because I know I have to be.
I hope I feel better tomorrow. I can't wait to get back to the gym, and not feel like roadkill.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Bonus Entry
Mother fucker.
I am getting sick. And it's going to be a bad one, I can tell. I have run myself so ragged for weeks and weeks and weeks, and now it's all catching up with me. I hope it can hold off until Friday night. But I don't think it will.
I noticed myself feeling oddly heavy and sleepy, so I took a small nap. I just woke up (a small nap turned into an hour), and my chest feels like it's made of lead, I can't stop coughing and it HURTS, my nose is stuffed, and my eyes hurt. I have a feeling it's only going to get worse.
Shit.
I need a rub and a blanket and a cup of tea.
I think I'm going to watch some Psych and go to sleep.
I am getting sick. And it's going to be a bad one, I can tell. I have run myself so ragged for weeks and weeks and weeks, and now it's all catching up with me. I hope it can hold off until Friday night. But I don't think it will.
I noticed myself feeling oddly heavy and sleepy, so I took a small nap. I just woke up (a small nap turned into an hour), and my chest feels like it's made of lead, I can't stop coughing and it HURTS, my nose is stuffed, and my eyes hurt. I have a feeling it's only going to get worse.
Shit.
I need a rub and a blanket and a cup of tea.
I think I'm going to watch some Psych and go to sleep.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
No cheeses for us meeces
It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, VERY bad day.
In lighter news for the moment, this is a thing that exists:
http://popuptee.com/collections/frontpage/products/its-not-long-at-all
That is such a seriously awesome fucking shirt. I can't even take it. I wish I didn't have two grand in bills to pay in the next couple of days, I would buy it up right this very moment, because it needs to be in my life. Sadly, the shirt will be gone by Friday when I get paid and I'd be able to get it. Balls. I hate being a responsible adult sometimes.
Allen and I got into a fucking HUGE fight today. It was awful, and I think he's still mad at me. It's been bumming me hard all day.
98% of the people who've called in to me today are talking to me like I'm a fucking retard, which I categorically am NOT.
I had do do twenty bazillion things in DORA, because the stupid contract drafts for 2014 just wouldn't behave, and I was beyond frustrated. I think, total, that took me three hours to finish.
Sara wasn't feeling well, so she went home early. I hope she's resting up and feeling better.
In other news that is not me bitching about my shitty day, Saturday night is our non-work Christmas shindig. I am so excited. Allen might bring Lindsay, because Sara said the more the merrier (festive!), and also because, while everybody that's going to be there is very fond of Allen, it might be nice for him to have someone there that is just for him in case he starts to feel awkward or something. I don't know.
Ryan bought the last three Cards Against Humanity Extensions, so I'm really looking forward to playing that with everybody and getting wastey-faced. Also food, because everybody is bringing something. I'm going to make chocolate chip pumpkin bread.
I have so much work to do tonight, but hopefully I'll be done in time to go up to GoG and do some sky staring. I've been kind of looking forward to that all day. I don't have to wake up early tomorrow, but I did want to catch some study time for one last cram push before my final tomorrow.
I am 100% planning on going out and taking photos next week. Thursday. Stevie and I have been planning on day-drinking the first free day from school, and Wednesday is the first free day for both of us. I'm looking forward to that, too. Anybody that doesn't like day drinking is not somebody that I need to associate myself with. Oh, the best things about me never, ever change.
In lighter news for the moment, this is a thing that exists:
http://popuptee.com/collections/frontpage/products/its-not-long-at-all
That is such a seriously awesome fucking shirt. I can't even take it. I wish I didn't have two grand in bills to pay in the next couple of days, I would buy it up right this very moment, because it needs to be in my life. Sadly, the shirt will be gone by Friday when I get paid and I'd be able to get it. Balls. I hate being a responsible adult sometimes.
Allen and I got into a fucking HUGE fight today. It was awful, and I think he's still mad at me. It's been bumming me hard all day.
98% of the people who've called in to me today are talking to me like I'm a fucking retard, which I categorically am NOT.
I had do do twenty bazillion things in DORA, because the stupid contract drafts for 2014 just wouldn't behave, and I was beyond frustrated. I think, total, that took me three hours to finish.
Sara wasn't feeling well, so she went home early. I hope she's resting up and feeling better.
In other news that is not me bitching about my shitty day, Saturday night is our non-work Christmas shindig. I am so excited. Allen might bring Lindsay, because Sara said the more the merrier (festive!), and also because, while everybody that's going to be there is very fond of Allen, it might be nice for him to have someone there that is just for him in case he starts to feel awkward or something. I don't know.
Ryan bought the last three Cards Against Humanity Extensions, so I'm really looking forward to playing that with everybody and getting wastey-faced. Also food, because everybody is bringing something. I'm going to make chocolate chip pumpkin bread.
I have so much work to do tonight, but hopefully I'll be done in time to go up to GoG and do some sky staring. I've been kind of looking forward to that all day. I don't have to wake up early tomorrow, but I did want to catch some study time for one last cram push before my final tomorrow.
I am 100% planning on going out and taking photos next week. Thursday. Stevie and I have been planning on day-drinking the first free day from school, and Wednesday is the first free day for both of us. I'm looking forward to that, too. Anybody that doesn't like day drinking is not somebody that I need to associate myself with. Oh, the best things about me never, ever change.
Monday, December 9, 2013
In an infinite multiverse, there's no such thing as fiction
I would go out and stare at the stars tonight, but number one, the sky is too cloudy. Number two, it's fucking freezing out. Number three...that one is mine. I'm not sharing number three.
I cannot handle marketing right now. I don't...I can't fucking do it.
If I finish what I need to do tonight, and I know I will, I think I'll bundle up tomorrow night, grab a coffee, and sit at The Spot at GoG. I haven't been there for quite some time. I wanted to go watch the Geminids the other night, but the weather was far too awful for that, and I didn't really want to go do that alone. So I opted to not. In my head, though, the owls would have been calling, the wolves would have been baying, every single star would have been brightly shining, or bravely falling, and the world would have been almost perfect.
I cannot handle marketing right now. I don't...I can't fucking do it.
If I finish what I need to do tonight, and I know I will, I think I'll bundle up tomorrow night, grab a coffee, and sit at The Spot at GoG. I haven't been there for quite some time. I wanted to go watch the Geminids the other night, but the weather was far too awful for that, and I didn't really want to go do that alone. So I opted to not. In my head, though, the owls would have been calling, the wolves would have been baying, every single star would have been brightly shining, or bravely falling, and the world would have been almost perfect.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
I literally have an apple in the pocket of my coat. And I don't remember putting it there.
I've been listening to old music today. The song I currently have on repeat is:
I fucking LOVE Otis Redding. Sure, everybody likes Sittin' On The Dock of the Bay. It's a solid song. But Coffee and Cigarettes, Love Man, and A Change is Gonna Come are so so so much better.
Stevie and I have been chatting about all of the things we're going to do if we move in together. This spiraled into a conversation about how radical the CEO of Costco is, and how much Wal*Mart fucking blows, and why The Salvation Army, Jelly Belly, and Chick-Fil-A are spearheaded by assholes.
I am so excited to leave work today. I'm tired, and kind of hungry (I did improvise myself a grilled cheese for lunch today, which I'm exceptionally thrilled with myself for. I'm a god damn genius).
Stevie and I are talking about renting a house now. I am so excited about this. We're thinking a three bedroom, so we can each have our own room, and then share an office.
Allen is thinking about buying a house.
there is so much adult stuff going on, and I'm currently thinking about Tupperware.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Good god damn, I love adverbs!...ly
The work Christmas party was last night.
I wish I could say I had an awful time, but I really didn't.
The Swede came and picked me up, and he looked absolutely handsome. This wasn't a shock, since I find him handsome regularly. But he really stepped it up last night, and the outcome was wonderful. I internally swooned a little bit. Ok. A lot a bit.
The drive up to Monument, once we escaped the hideous I-25 traffic, was just gorgeous. Everything was covered in snow, and the streets were lined with huge, snowy trees. The effect was, as I always say of the snow, like staring at magic.
Having never been to a work function (1. I never had anybody that wanted to go with me, and I didn't want to show up alone and B. I always assumed I'd be bored out of my mind because nobody likes me), I had no idea The Hideaway is as pretty as it is. I introduced The Swede to the few people I like, we grabbed drinks, and then sat down at an empty table. I told him that yt?if it wound up being just us at the table, that I wouldn't care one bit. Sara came over and said she was going to sit with us instead, and then one of our vendors came over and sat next to me, and he was a riot to sit next to. He had a musical tie, which delighted me to no end, and he was pretty much a dead ringer for NPH. After dinner (which was decent, but nothing to write home about), they had this DELICIOUS peach cobbler for dessert. Sara got up to do some things, and Mark (our St. Aubyn vendor) stole her cobbler, and it actually took her awhile to notice. I think I had more fun with The Swede, Sara, and Mark than I did mingling with everybody else. Which I refrained from doing.
Sara told us that there was foosball and ping pong downstairs, so we grabbed our wine and moseyed. I played some foosball...fucking HORRIBLY...with Sara, Mark, and Danny, played an absolutely shit game of ping pong, watched a bit of Shark Tank, and then Sara suggested that the three of us leave and go to a bar, because she was bored, and we were bored (though, actually, when Sara and I had this conversation, The Swede was knee-deep in a ping pong game with one of my agents), and playing darts would have been ten times more fun. The Swede finished his game, and then we all left and went to Hilltop. It was so deliciously dive-y! I loved it. We were so overdressed, but that didn't matter a wink to me. We played a couple games of darts, and then we played pool.
Holy shit.
The Swede is fucking GOOD at pool. I'm not so bad myself, but jesus. It sparked such a fun competitive streak in me. I won the first game we played, he won the second, and I won the third by default because he scratched the eight (with honestly one of the most gorgeous pool shots I've ever seen in person). But he's really, really good. And again, not to be all gushy, but he looked god damn incredible. During the first game we played, I sank a pretty fucking gorgeous shot that made everybody go, "Damn!" or some similar exclamation, and Sara looked at The Swede and goes, "Yeah. I know her." this made me laugh uproariously. I spent most of the evening laughing. It was such a good night.
Sara bailed at about midnight. Stevie and Mike were considering meeting up with us, but Mike fell asleep and Stevie had flex time at 4, so that didn't happen, and The Swede and I left at 12:45 (after playing our final game of pool. The one I won on a technicality). That bar was actually really fucking fantastic. I made generic friends with quite a few people that were there, everybody was so friendly...I may tell Sara we should go back. She very much liked The Swede. We're in the middle of planning a non-office Work Christmas Party, and she told The Swede he needs to come.
It was so fucking cold out last night. It was 0 degrees when we left, and for some reason, my room never ever ever got warm. The Swede and I were balled together the whole night, and when I woke up this morning, his face was damn near frozen. The rest of him was quite warm (because my body is a god damn heater, and I was draped all about him like some sort of climbing vine), but his poor face. Ice.
I told him last night that I had missed him in the time I haven't seen him. And it made me nervous to do so. I don't want to freak him out or scare him off or anything along those lines, because I truly enjoy his company, and I'm very, very happy when he's around. I also don't want to walk down a route of things I say or feel not being reciprocated. That's ugly, and it doesn't feel nice. I have this horrible fear of that, but I also have this horrible need to be honest. When I feel something, I say it. Because I'm a fucking adult, that's why, and that's what adults do. We've been seeing each other for a month, and I'm getting to the point where I'd like to see him more often, and also that starting to actively and genuinely care about him. I'd hate to be alone in that, and the scared, nervous, insecure girl in me wants to just throw in the towel now and save myself the aggravation of finding out that that's just me, and he doesn't feel the same way, and Drea comes out looking foolish again.
INSTEAD, I'm just going to try and tone it down and be sensible and not be a freak, and I'll play this by ear. If he's got that going on, too, well that's fucking aces, and I'll be more than pleased. If not, I won't have said anything ridiculous, and I won't have to worry about budding feels getting trampled over. Everybody wins.
I wish I could say I had an awful time, but I really didn't.
The Swede came and picked me up, and he looked absolutely handsome. This wasn't a shock, since I find him handsome regularly. But he really stepped it up last night, and the outcome was wonderful. I internally swooned a little bit. Ok. A lot a bit.
The drive up to Monument, once we escaped the hideous I-25 traffic, was just gorgeous. Everything was covered in snow, and the streets were lined with huge, snowy trees. The effect was, as I always say of the snow, like staring at magic.
Having never been to a work function (1. I never had anybody that wanted to go with me, and I didn't want to show up alone and B. I always assumed I'd be bored out of my mind because nobody likes me), I had no idea The Hideaway is as pretty as it is. I introduced The Swede to the few people I like, we grabbed drinks, and then sat down at an empty table. I told him that yt?if it wound up being just us at the table, that I wouldn't care one bit. Sara came over and said she was going to sit with us instead, and then one of our vendors came over and sat next to me, and he was a riot to sit next to. He had a musical tie, which delighted me to no end, and he was pretty much a dead ringer for NPH. After dinner (which was decent, but nothing to write home about), they had this DELICIOUS peach cobbler for dessert. Sara got up to do some things, and Mark (our St. Aubyn vendor) stole her cobbler, and it actually took her awhile to notice. I think I had more fun with The Swede, Sara, and Mark than I did mingling with everybody else. Which I refrained from doing.
Sara told us that there was foosball and ping pong downstairs, so we grabbed our wine and moseyed. I played some foosball...fucking HORRIBLY...with Sara, Mark, and Danny, played an absolutely shit game of ping pong, watched a bit of Shark Tank, and then Sara suggested that the three of us leave and go to a bar, because she was bored, and we were bored (though, actually, when Sara and I had this conversation, The Swede was knee-deep in a ping pong game with one of my agents), and playing darts would have been ten times more fun. The Swede finished his game, and then we all left and went to Hilltop. It was so deliciously dive-y! I loved it. We were so overdressed, but that didn't matter a wink to me. We played a couple games of darts, and then we played pool.
Holy shit.
The Swede is fucking GOOD at pool. I'm not so bad myself, but jesus. It sparked such a fun competitive streak in me. I won the first game we played, he won the second, and I won the third by default because he scratched the eight (with honestly one of the most gorgeous pool shots I've ever seen in person). But he's really, really good. And again, not to be all gushy, but he looked god damn incredible. During the first game we played, I sank a pretty fucking gorgeous shot that made everybody go, "Damn!" or some similar exclamation, and Sara looked at The Swede and goes, "Yeah. I know her." this made me laugh uproariously. I spent most of the evening laughing. It was such a good night.
Sara bailed at about midnight. Stevie and Mike were considering meeting up with us, but Mike fell asleep and Stevie had flex time at 4, so that didn't happen, and The Swede and I left at 12:45 (after playing our final game of pool. The one I won on a technicality). That bar was actually really fucking fantastic. I made generic friends with quite a few people that were there, everybody was so friendly...I may tell Sara we should go back. She very much liked The Swede. We're in the middle of planning a non-office Work Christmas Party, and she told The Swede he needs to come.
It was so fucking cold out last night. It was 0 degrees when we left, and for some reason, my room never ever ever got warm. The Swede and I were balled together the whole night, and when I woke up this morning, his face was damn near frozen. The rest of him was quite warm (because my body is a god damn heater, and I was draped all about him like some sort of climbing vine), but his poor face. Ice.
I told him last night that I had missed him in the time I haven't seen him. And it made me nervous to do so. I don't want to freak him out or scare him off or anything along those lines, because I truly enjoy his company, and I'm very, very happy when he's around. I also don't want to walk down a route of things I say or feel not being reciprocated. That's ugly, and it doesn't feel nice. I have this horrible fear of that, but I also have this horrible need to be honest. When I feel something, I say it. Because I'm a fucking adult, that's why, and that's what adults do. We've been seeing each other for a month, and I'm getting to the point where I'd like to see him more often, and also that starting to actively and genuinely care about him. I'd hate to be alone in that, and the scared, nervous, insecure girl in me wants to just throw in the towel now and save myself the aggravation of finding out that that's just me, and he doesn't feel the same way, and Drea comes out looking foolish again.
INSTEAD, I'm just going to try and tone it down and be sensible and not be a freak, and I'll play this by ear. If he's got that going on, too, well that's fucking aces, and I'll be more than pleased. If not, I won't have said anything ridiculous, and I won't have to worry about budding feels getting trampled over. Everybody wins.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Let's look through a telescope and fall asleep together at 9:30
I have been burning myself out on studying and exams. I just took my last quiz for philosophy, and I'm taking a small break to write in here before I work on my worldview paper. Which will probably be about ten pages long. I'm not excited about it, but I outlined it pretty solidly, and it'll hopefully go very, very quickly.
I went to the gym with Tom last night, and I hit it pretty fucking hard. I feel great today as a result, and I'm sad I can't go to the gym with him tonight, as well. We were at the gym for an hour and a half, and then we drove around for an hour and talked. He's been having some trouble with his girlfriend, and Tom and I have a few similarities, so I was able to empathize and give him solid opinions. I was really glad that we got to talk to each other. He in turn said some very nice things about me, and I really appreciated it. After I got home, I went over to Stevie's for studying time/paper writing. When I left at ten to two, it was -5 outside, and the wind chill made it feel like it was -16. Fun! I got about three hours of sleep, took Allen to work, and couldn't get back to sleep. I just laid on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, letting hundreds of thoughts run along my head. I may or may not have started counting my insecurities and trying to talk myself out of them. I'm not sure if that worked or not.
I need to finish this paper. I don't want to. I want to just snuggle up and drink tea (successfully drinking tea without sugar. Yay! I feel like such an adult!) and listen to music, or read a book, or watch a movie. Hopefully I can crush this paper in the next hour and a half. If I do, I'm rewarding myself with a long soak in my tub.
In beautiful news, all of the snow in the air made a lovely rainbow around the cloud-covered sun. I tried to take a picture on my phone, but I failed miserably.
Ok, paper. Back to you.
I went to the gym with Tom last night, and I hit it pretty fucking hard. I feel great today as a result, and I'm sad I can't go to the gym with him tonight, as well. We were at the gym for an hour and a half, and then we drove around for an hour and talked. He's been having some trouble with his girlfriend, and Tom and I have a few similarities, so I was able to empathize and give him solid opinions. I was really glad that we got to talk to each other. He in turn said some very nice things about me, and I really appreciated it. After I got home, I went over to Stevie's for studying time/paper writing. When I left at ten to two, it was -5 outside, and the wind chill made it feel like it was -16. Fun! I got about three hours of sleep, took Allen to work, and couldn't get back to sleep. I just laid on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, letting hundreds of thoughts run along my head. I may or may not have started counting my insecurities and trying to talk myself out of them. I'm not sure if that worked or not.
I need to finish this paper. I don't want to. I want to just snuggle up and drink tea (successfully drinking tea without sugar. Yay! I feel like such an adult!) and listen to music, or read a book, or watch a movie. Hopefully I can crush this paper in the next hour and a half. If I do, I'm rewarding myself with a long soak in my tub.
In beautiful news, all of the snow in the air made a lovely rainbow around the cloud-covered sun. I tried to take a picture on my phone, but I failed miserably.
Ok, paper. Back to you.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Motherfuckin' booze time
It's almost 9. I have 3 1/2 hours to finish his stupid fucking project, and I am sweating bullets over it. As evidenced by my stopping to write in my blog. But I just needed a tiny break.
This week and next week are going to be so stressful. This'll teach me to pack on a twenty credit course load (for four weeks...I already signed up for the next twenty). I knew finals week was going to be a bummer. Oh, well.
I have to write my philosophy professor and tell him that I'm going to miss class on Friday, because I have to go to my Christmas party for work. I took a picture and showed it to Tom last night and asked him how I looked, and if skin-tight red dresses would be ok for me to wear. Since I want to be kind of impressive looking, going with The Swede and all. He reacted favorably, so there's that.
It's time for me to get back to work. It's so fucking cold outside, and snowy-ish, and I really want to go take pictures.
This week and next week are going to be so stressful. This'll teach me to pack on a twenty credit course load (for four weeks...I already signed up for the next twenty). I knew finals week was going to be a bummer. Oh, well.
I have to write my philosophy professor and tell him that I'm going to miss class on Friday, because I have to go to my Christmas party for work. I took a picture and showed it to Tom last night and asked him how I looked, and if skin-tight red dresses would be ok for me to wear. Since I want to be kind of impressive looking, going with The Swede and all. He reacted favorably, so there's that.
It's time for me to get back to work. It's so fucking cold outside, and snowy-ish, and I really want to go take pictures.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
You're flirting with disaster when you kiss and tell, my love
When music evokes images of something incredibly specific, I kind of fall in love with it.
Allen went on a music spree while I was putting on my makeup yesterday, and he found this:
Holy shit, this song. The end falls apart for me, but it's like, twelve seconds of music lost. That's it. The rest of the song makes me think of reckless, intense sex. I can't get enough of it. I played it for The Swede this morning on the way back from breakfast (I have no idea how I've gone this long without having ever gone to Over Easy. It. Was. Amazing), but he didn't particularly care for it. Which is fine. He did listen to Why?, which delighted me, and we started off the morning with The Eels (yay!!) and tea. I took pictures of him all morning, and left his house after breakfast so he could work on a budget for work, and so I could get some ham and bean soup, because fuck yes. I do have to remember to save him some, because I said I would.
He told me he had missed me last night. I was quite pleased, but a bit taken aback by it. I didn't say anything. My head debated if he meant that he missed me, or missed having sex with me, so I felt it was safer to not say anything back. Regardless of my insecure and residually paranoid inner monologue, I rather missed him legitimately in the duration of not seeing him, and I was sad to leave this morning. I've been sad to leave/see him leave the last couple of times we've been together, especially if one of us is leaving in the super early am.
I have papers to write tonight. This is my second to last week of the semester, so I'm fairly certain I won't have any time to write in here or go off and take pictures for the next week or so. I'll try and steal time to jot a thought or two, since I know I'm wildly fucking riveting and my silly, pointless words will be so sorely missed.
Alright, business. I'm about to fucking shred this paper. In the best way, of course.
As an end note, the sky outside is a warm shade of blue, and it's highlighted with vibrant pink and orange clouds. I wish I were out taking photos. Dammit, GPA. It's time like these that I wish I didn't give a fuck about you.
Allen went on a music spree while I was putting on my makeup yesterday, and he found this:
He told me he had missed me last night. I was quite pleased, but a bit taken aback by it. I didn't say anything. My head debated if he meant that he missed me, or missed having sex with me, so I felt it was safer to not say anything back. Regardless of my insecure and residually paranoid inner monologue, I rather missed him legitimately in the duration of not seeing him, and I was sad to leave this morning. I've been sad to leave/see him leave the last couple of times we've been together, especially if one of us is leaving in the super early am.
I have papers to write tonight. This is my second to last week of the semester, so I'm fairly certain I won't have any time to write in here or go off and take pictures for the next week or so. I'll try and steal time to jot a thought or two, since I know I'm wildly fucking riveting and my silly, pointless words will be so sorely missed.
Alright, business. I'm about to fucking shred this paper. In the best way, of course.
As an end note, the sky outside is a warm shade of blue, and it's highlighted with vibrant pink and orange clouds. I wish I were out taking photos. Dammit, GPA. It's time like these that I wish I didn't give a fuck about you.
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