My Best Friend is awesome. And for the record, I use the term Best Friend, he does not. That’s fine with me, I know guys can get weird about labels. I just use the term to express the extent of our relationship to people. Sean is my husband; my partner in crime, my support system, my absolute #1 best friend in the world. But he already has a title. My ‘best friend’ is the person I’m closest to out of all the terrific people I am lucky enough to call my friends. It might sound cruel to have a hierarchy like that, but them’s the breaks. It’s not like I said “You! You are now at the top of the friend list.” There is a history there, most of which will never make it to this blog.
We’ve been friends for over 10 years now, and we’ve been there for milestones from getting our driver’s licenses to getting married. He’s a great person. Fun to be around, easy to talk to, intelligent, trustworthy…and he can put up with my shit almost as well as Sean. I love his wife; she and I have become good friends these past few years and I’m so thankful that she is accepting of me. She and I are often the only two women in the group when we’re hanging out, and it makes me happy just to be around her. I’m really lucky to have these people in my life… I don’t tell them as often as I’d like because I’m afraid of sounding mushy, or coming off as codependent or something… I don’t know! I try to show them as much as I can how much their friendship means to me, usually by giving them treats or packing some bowls. I like doing things for them because they’re always so appreciative and it makes me feel good.
To give you a little bit of background, BFF and I went to middle school together for one year but didn’t really talk until high school. We were both in band and our parents were involved in the boosters. We rode the same bus to school. His stop was much earlier than mine and on cold mornings he’d have the seat close to the heater, so when I started sitting next to him I got to reap the benefits. His birthday is the day after mine, which I’ve always thought was cool. For one thing I can always say I’m older than him but the best part is celebrating together. Only downside is we’re both Aries and we butt heads from time to time be we always manage to work it out. Senior year and some time after graduation we didn’t really talk, but I never stopped thinking about him. I’d hear a song that reminded me of him, or see his initials somewhere and wonder what he was up to. A couple times I just called him out of the blue. Probably looked like a stalker, too. lol
When we reconnected as adults, it started out as casual hanging out. Now I see him and his wife so often it’s weird when I don’t hear from them for a day. When they went on their honeymoon I was happy they were getting to take a vacation but I couldn’t wait for them to get back because I missed them! So as you can see, the bond has grown strong. I’ve heard that during your whole life you will only have a few true friends and I know they fit in that category. I don’t know what life would be like without BFF (or Mrs. BFF) and I have a feeling I never will. :)
Friday, December 5, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
My other blog....
....has a new entry if anyone's interested. It's kind of long, but if you've got time to kill it's there. :) You can get to it through my profile, if you aren't familiar with Blogger...
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
A handful of dimes....
We've been hearing a lot about the economy lately, haven't we? A couple years ago, America was obsessed with losing weight, becoming more healthy, living longer. These days it's all about saving money. Yahoo news is constantly running stories with headlines like "Top ten ways to save $200 a month" and "How to get the most out of a tank of gas." People everywhere are tightening their belts, forgoing those vacations, trading in their SUVs... I haven't changed a thing. Granted, I did get a new, more fuel efficient car earlier this year but it wasn't for reasons pertaining to the failing economy...My point is: I've always lived frugally...sure, I buy myself unnecessary things when I get a large sum of money (like the giant TV we bought with our tax returns) but day to day, we're very simple people.
I don't feel we live beyond our means like so many Americans do. While people are whining and complaining about not being able to afford manicures anymore, or not being able to spend $100 on dinner and drinks, Sean and I are going about business as usual. In fact, having the rest of the country (figuratively speaking) down at our level has been a refreshing experience. I'm not trying to wish ill on people, I'm just saying maybe a little financial humility will be good for society. Hopefully it will teach people not to be so wasteful in the future and to make more responsible decisions when it comes to money. I don't know. Probably not.
I don't have much debt. No credit cards or loans other than my car. I'm still paying stuff off from when I was a dumb kid, but other than that... My bills are pretty strait forward: Rent, utilities, car, insurance....I have a prepaid cell phone and we don't go out much. We pretty much do what we want, even if it takes us a while to get some money together. We're very happy. I did go through a point in my life I like to think is over, where I stressed out about money so much it literally made me sick. Seriously, I have ulcers. I was convinced that I was the only one out there paying my rent late and making arrangements with the electric company...I was so distressed thinking about our future bills and how we were never going to get caught up. Then one day, I looked around and realized I was not alone at all. I see "rich" people freaking out and I smile to myself knowing that I'm an old pro at the "Money/Stress game."
One thing that bothers me is how ungrateful some people can be. Once a person is used to having a certain amount of money, anything less becomes worthless! I don't understand it! I know as people make more money they generally make more bills, so when they're salary gets cut they find themselves in a tough spot. Know what I have to say? SUCK IT UP! Do people really go around in life thinking that things are just going to get better? Did they not take history in school? oh no.... I just got myself started.
WHY are people still buying GIGANTIC ass trucks when fuel prices fluctuate as much as California weather and our environment is in peril? What purpose do they serve? There are smaller, more fuel efficient vehicles that can hold up to 7 people, I don't see the need for an F350 King cab. Sorry. Don't want to hear about your $600 car payment or how much you pay for gas.
WHY do people buy boats and trailers when they only take them out once or twice a year? You know there are places you can rent that type of stuff? When your family is eating mac and cheese with hotdogs for the 4th day in a row, just remind them how much fun they're going to have at the river next summer. If you can afford to go.
WHY do people buy ridiculous accessories for their pets? Muffy does not like his new fur coat. In fact, he's pissed and he's planning on shitting in your kitchen while you're asleep. Meanwhile, your kid needs new shoes and you're bitching about how much they cost.
That's just the tip of the iceberg, folks. Here's the kicker. The thing that made me write this half-assed attempt at a post in the first place:
I make $15 and hour. That translates to $600 a week, $471 after taxes. So, I basically live on $1884 a month, plus my husband's pay which is even smaller than mine. It's more than enough for us to live well. (thank God we don't have children) Hear that people? $2800 is MORE THAN ENOUGH to support two people and 4 cats-WELL- even in California. I'm not saying there aren't sacrifices to be made, I'm just saying it's possible. Easy, even.
I do payroll for the company I work for and some of these people make TWICE my salary. Business is slow, so a lot of people aren't getting a full 40 hours a week like me. BUT their paychecks still come out to more money, even when they've worked half the hours I have. It kills me to give these people their checks on Friday just to hear them say "My measly little paycheck" or "This will hardly cover my bar tab!" It just makes my blood boil. I want to shout "Listen you ungrateful fucks! I LIVE on less than that, so if you've got a fucking problem with your check, you can just pass that measly sum of money my way and I'll make sure to fucking appreciate it and put it to good use!" God DAMN people can be so insensitive!
I realize how self-righteous this post might sound, and I apologize if I've offended anyone. You know I like to keep the 4 or 5 readers I have coming back...lol I guess I just needed to vent. Thanks for reading.
PS. The title comes from Five to One by the Doors... "Trade in your hours for a handful of dimes. Gonna make it baby in our prime..."
Pretty much sums up how I feel about having a job. lol Cest la vie....
I don't feel we live beyond our means like so many Americans do. While people are whining and complaining about not being able to afford manicures anymore, or not being able to spend $100 on dinner and drinks, Sean and I are going about business as usual. In fact, having the rest of the country (figuratively speaking) down at our level has been a refreshing experience. I'm not trying to wish ill on people, I'm just saying maybe a little financial humility will be good for society. Hopefully it will teach people not to be so wasteful in the future and to make more responsible decisions when it comes to money. I don't know. Probably not.
I don't have much debt. No credit cards or loans other than my car. I'm still paying stuff off from when I was a dumb kid, but other than that... My bills are pretty strait forward: Rent, utilities, car, insurance....I have a prepaid cell phone and we don't go out much. We pretty much do what we want, even if it takes us a while to get some money together. We're very happy. I did go through a point in my life I like to think is over, where I stressed out about money so much it literally made me sick. Seriously, I have ulcers. I was convinced that I was the only one out there paying my rent late and making arrangements with the electric company...I was so distressed thinking about our future bills and how we were never going to get caught up. Then one day, I looked around and realized I was not alone at all. I see "rich" people freaking out and I smile to myself knowing that I'm an old pro at the "Money/Stress game."
One thing that bothers me is how ungrateful some people can be. Once a person is used to having a certain amount of money, anything less becomes worthless! I don't understand it! I know as people make more money they generally make more bills, so when they're salary gets cut they find themselves in a tough spot. Know what I have to say? SUCK IT UP! Do people really go around in life thinking that things are just going to get better? Did they not take history in school? oh no.... I just got myself started.
WHY are people still buying GIGANTIC ass trucks when fuel prices fluctuate as much as California weather and our environment is in peril? What purpose do they serve? There are smaller, more fuel efficient vehicles that can hold up to 7 people, I don't see the need for an F350 King cab. Sorry. Don't want to hear about your $600 car payment or how much you pay for gas.
WHY do people buy boats and trailers when they only take them out once or twice a year? You know there are places you can rent that type of stuff? When your family is eating mac and cheese with hotdogs for the 4th day in a row, just remind them how much fun they're going to have at the river next summer. If you can afford to go.
WHY do people buy ridiculous accessories for their pets? Muffy does not like his new fur coat. In fact, he's pissed and he's planning on shitting in your kitchen while you're asleep. Meanwhile, your kid needs new shoes and you're bitching about how much they cost.
That's just the tip of the iceberg, folks. Here's the kicker. The thing that made me write this half-assed attempt at a post in the first place:
I make $15 and hour. That translates to $600 a week, $471 after taxes. So, I basically live on $1884 a month, plus my husband's pay which is even smaller than mine. It's more than enough for us to live well. (thank God we don't have children) Hear that people? $2800 is MORE THAN ENOUGH to support two people and 4 cats-WELL- even in California. I'm not saying there aren't sacrifices to be made, I'm just saying it's possible. Easy, even.
I do payroll for the company I work for and some of these people make TWICE my salary. Business is slow, so a lot of people aren't getting a full 40 hours a week like me. BUT their paychecks still come out to more money, even when they've worked half the hours I have. It kills me to give these people their checks on Friday just to hear them say "My measly little paycheck" or "This will hardly cover my bar tab!" It just makes my blood boil. I want to shout "Listen you ungrateful fucks! I LIVE on less than that, so if you've got a fucking problem with your check, you can just pass that measly sum of money my way and I'll make sure to fucking appreciate it and put it to good use!" God DAMN people can be so insensitive!
I realize how self-righteous this post might sound, and I apologize if I've offended anyone. You know I like to keep the 4 or 5 readers I have coming back...lol I guess I just needed to vent. Thanks for reading.
PS. The title comes from Five to One by the Doors... "Trade in your hours for a handful of dimes. Gonna make it baby in our prime..."
Pretty much sums up how I feel about having a job. lol Cest la vie....
Friday, November 21, 2008
Thanksgiving
Until I became a stoner, I never fully appreciated Thanksgiving. My mom never cooked a turkey because it was "too dry" but we had a ham and all the trimmings of a holiday meal. It just didn't hold any significant meaning to me. Then, November 2002, everything changed. It was before my dad and step-mom moved to Kansas, and they asked me to watch their house while they visited her sons for Thanksgiving. In return, they left me a little feast: A large rosted chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes and a cranberry apple pie. All I had to do was warm it up in the oven and enjoy. I had just started smoking that summer, and decided to invite my stoney friends over to share in the bounty. It was an amazing day! Smoke, eat, smoke, eat...ahhh good times.
The following year, my husband and I were living in our first apartment together (without roomates) and I decided I was going to make us a turkey dinner. I enlisted the help of my SIL and the results were......AMAZING!!! I can't believe our first turkey came out so well! Once again, we smoked and ate to our hearts content and that was it for me. Thanksgiving became MY holiday. I will not go anywhere; my place on the last Thursday of November is in my kitchen, then on my couch. NO EXCEPTIONS! I've got T-day down to a science now. Weeks before the day, I print new copies of my recipes, make grocery lists, and make room in the freezer for the guest of honor: the turkey. I even write out a prep schedule to keep myself on track while I'm cooking and ensure nothing gets left out. It might seem a little stressful, but truth is it's a blast for me. I get to cook all day, smoke all day and then share the fruits of my labor with friends.
I never really know who's going to join us, but it doesn't matter. Anyone is welcome at my place on Thanksgiving. I haven't had the exact same group of people twice. I think any cook loves to hear their food is good, but I can't describe the pride I feel when someone who spent a Thanksgiving at my house recalls the day lovingly. Tsk, I'm getting all choked up thinking about it, what a sentimental fool I am!
One thing that makes a feast more than just a meal is the meaning behind the occasion. I loved attending Passover Sedars with my Jewish friends because the whole tradition and ritual surrounding the meal is so appealing to the foodie-philosopher in me. Thanksgiving is a celebration of the Pilgrims' first harvest in the new land. Think of all the things on your table this time of year: Pumpkin, potatoes, squash, corn...... Know what else is harvested the month before this glorious celebration? That's right. WEED! It's only fitting that it be part of the ritual on this day. Plus, who doesn't like to gorge themselves shamelessly when they're high?
I hope all of you out there in the blogosphere love Thanksgiving as much as I do, and I hope the things you are thankful for last forever. With that, I leave you with my 2008 Thanksgiving Menu:
Herb Roasted Turkey
Country Sage Dressing
Creamy Mashed Potatoes and Gravy
Baked Sweet Yams
Smoked Gouda Mac & Cheese
Classic Green Bean Casserole
Taffy Apple Salad
Sourdough Rolls
Pumpkin Cheesecake
The following year, my husband and I were living in our first apartment together (without roomates) and I decided I was going to make us a turkey dinner. I enlisted the help of my SIL and the results were......AMAZING!!! I can't believe our first turkey came out so well! Once again, we smoked and ate to our hearts content and that was it for me. Thanksgiving became MY holiday. I will not go anywhere; my place on the last Thursday of November is in my kitchen, then on my couch. NO EXCEPTIONS! I've got T-day down to a science now. Weeks before the day, I print new copies of my recipes, make grocery lists, and make room in the freezer for the guest of honor: the turkey. I even write out a prep schedule to keep myself on track while I'm cooking and ensure nothing gets left out. It might seem a little stressful, but truth is it's a blast for me. I get to cook all day, smoke all day and then share the fruits of my labor with friends.
I never really know who's going to join us, but it doesn't matter. Anyone is welcome at my place on Thanksgiving. I haven't had the exact same group of people twice. I think any cook loves to hear their food is good, but I can't describe the pride I feel when someone who spent a Thanksgiving at my house recalls the day lovingly. Tsk, I'm getting all choked up thinking about it, what a sentimental fool I am!
One thing that makes a feast more than just a meal is the meaning behind the occasion. I loved attending Passover Sedars with my Jewish friends because the whole tradition and ritual surrounding the meal is so appealing to the foodie-philosopher in me. Thanksgiving is a celebration of the Pilgrims' first harvest in the new land. Think of all the things on your table this time of year: Pumpkin, potatoes, squash, corn...... Know what else is harvested the month before this glorious celebration? That's right. WEED! It's only fitting that it be part of the ritual on this day. Plus, who doesn't like to gorge themselves shamelessly when they're high?
I hope all of you out there in the blogosphere love Thanksgiving as much as I do, and I hope the things you are thankful for last forever. With that, I leave you with my 2008 Thanksgiving Menu:
Herb Roasted Turkey
Country Sage Dressing
Creamy Mashed Potatoes and Gravy
Baked Sweet Yams
Smoked Gouda Mac & Cheese
Classic Green Bean Casserole
Taffy Apple Salad
Sourdough Rolls
Pumpkin Cheesecake
Friday, November 14, 2008
All I Wanna Be is a G, HA!
My friends and husband will agree that I think I am a Gangsta. Well, a wannabe Gangsta anyway. I like to act all tough and talk big. I bump rap in my Hyundai Accent Hatchback...(not all the time, but sometimes I'm in the mood) I get teased, but I don't mind. It's all in good fun and besides.... One day, I will be a G. Mark my words. If you saw me in the grocery store or something, you might mistake me for a Mormon. I'm a plain Jane, jeans and t-shirt white girl from Southern California who likes to pretend she's hard. Hey it's all part of my charm. I can whip up a batch of brownies while bustin' out some NWA.
Last night, I was a little down and I confided in my husband that I was worried I was turning soft and I needed to toughen myself up or I'd never make it to Gangsta status.... He probably could tell I was being serious, because he didn't really laugh, he just nodded his head in agreement. SO, this morning I find that my husband added a new ringtone to my phone:
Natural Born Killaz by Ice Cube.
Talk about support from your spouse! I guess I'm not the only one who wants me to be a G. lol
Last night, I was a little down and I confided in my husband that I was worried I was turning soft and I needed to toughen myself up or I'd never make it to Gangsta status.... He probably could tell I was being serious, because he didn't really laugh, he just nodded his head in agreement. SO, this morning I find that my husband added a new ringtone to my phone:
Natural Born Killaz by Ice Cube.
Talk about support from your spouse! I guess I'm not the only one who wants me to be a G. lol
Friday, November 7, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Just a little something for Election Day
I am 25 years old and I have never voted. EVER. I figured since I live in California, the delegates in this state will vote the way I want anyway, blah blah blah... basically I didn't want to register and get stuck with Jury Duty. Which I have had 3 times despite the fact that I barely registered to vote in September. SO! This year being all historic and whatnot, I decided to go ahead and do it. In honor of my first voting experience, I wrote a little poem:
I'm going to the polls today
to stand in line and wait,
I'll cast my vote for president
and help dissolve Prop 8.
I'll sit and watch the TV screen
when all the votes are in,
And if Obama doesn't win
I guess I'll be Canadian!
YAY DEMOCRACY!!
I'm going to the polls today
to stand in line and wait,
I'll cast my vote for president
and help dissolve Prop 8.
I'll sit and watch the TV screen
when all the votes are in,
And if Obama doesn't win
I guess I'll be Canadian!
YAY DEMOCRACY!!
Monday, October 20, 2008
Me from A-Z
I got this one from Sarah's Blog. I thought it was an interesting twist on the usual survey.
A - Age: Twenty five
B - Band listening to right now: Muse
C - Career future: Proprietor of a self-sustaining community for hippies.
D - Dad’s name: Michael
E - Easiest person to talk to: My sister in law
F - Favorite type of shoe: cheap flip flops
G – Grapes or Grapefruit: Grapefruit
H – Hometown: Riverside, CA
I – Instrumental talent: Bassoon, Clarinet.....do video game drums and guitars count?
J – Juice of choice: Cranberry
K – Koala Bear or Panda Bear: Pandas... not a big fan of their restaurant, but they're sure cute!
L - Longest car ride ever: Bus trip to San Francisco and the busses kept breaking down.
M – Middle name: Ranae
N - Number of jobs you’ve had: 10
O- OCD traits: spider checks. I check EVERYTHING for spiders.
P - Phobia[s]: Spiders, Government, Law Enforcement...
Q - Quote: "I've got a joint in my room..." Lauren Hynde, Rules of Attraction
R - Reason to smile: My cats doing cute things. My husband flirting with me after being together for so long.
S - Song you sang last: A theme song I made up for one of my cats.
T - Time you wake up: 20 minutes later than I should. Always.
U - Unknown fact about me: I can drive a Zamboni, very poorly
V - Vegetable you hate: okra
W - Worst habit: Tardiness
X - X-rays you’ve had: teeth, neck, finger.
Y - Yummiest food my belly likes: Sausages!
Z - Zodiac sign: Aries
A - Age: Twenty five
B - Band listening to right now: Muse
C - Career future: Proprietor of a self-sustaining community for hippies.
D - Dad’s name: Michael
E - Easiest person to talk to: My sister in law
F - Favorite type of shoe: cheap flip flops
G – Grapes or Grapefruit: Grapefruit
H – Hometown: Riverside, CA
I – Instrumental talent: Bassoon, Clarinet.....do video game drums and guitars count?
J – Juice of choice: Cranberry
K – Koala Bear or Panda Bear: Pandas... not a big fan of their restaurant, but they're sure cute!
L - Longest car ride ever: Bus trip to San Francisco and the busses kept breaking down.
M – Middle name: Ranae
N - Number of jobs you’ve had: 10
O- OCD traits: spider checks. I check EVERYTHING for spiders.
P - Phobia[s]: Spiders, Government, Law Enforcement...
Q - Quote: "I've got a joint in my room..." Lauren Hynde, Rules of Attraction
R - Reason to smile: My cats doing cute things. My husband flirting with me after being together for so long.
S - Song you sang last: A theme song I made up for one of my cats.
T - Time you wake up: 20 minutes later than I should. Always.
U - Unknown fact about me: I can drive a Zamboni, very poorly
V - Vegetable you hate: okra
W - Worst habit: Tardiness
X - X-rays you’ve had: teeth, neck, finger.
Y - Yummiest food my belly likes: Sausages!
Z - Zodiac sign: Aries
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Knock Knock, Go the fuck away, please!
A few weeks ago, I roll up to my apartment and there is a cat chillin on my neighbors patio wall so I reach up and pet it and say "Hi, kittie kittie." God knows why I stop to pet strange cats when I have FOUR waiting for me inside. My neightbor stands up and says "His name is Mouse." Shit, I didn't even know he was out there! My husband and I don't really go out of our way to meet our neighbors becuase we're private people and we've had bad experiences in the past. Anyway, so they guy goes on and on about his cat, who is from the same little as my newest cat, so we talk about that a little bit and I go inside.
Next thing I know, there's a knock on the door. I look through the peep hole to make sure it's not the cops (lol, it's always the cops in my mind) and it's my neighbor, I'll call him Don. Don says his cat is in my patio and can I please get him because he's afraid he'll run away. Well then keep him inside you fuck! Whatever. I grab his cat, hand it to him over the wall and go back inside. Half an hour later the same thing happens again. A little while later I go into my patio and the fucking cat is back there AGAIN. Okay, this is fucking annoying. I scoop up the cat, take him next door and return him to Don. Don asks if I think Mouse will run away and I said cats know where to get their food, and I'm sure he'll come back. He asked if my cats go outside, I said "No, they are strictly indoor cats." That may seem cruel, but it's for their own good, I assure you.
Later on, about 10, my husband comes home from work and we're just about to indulge in a bowl when there's a knock at our door. I made a face at my husband like 'it's fucking crazy Don from next door.' Look through the peephole and there's Don holding Mouse. It's 10 at night!! So I open the door and he says: "He wants to see his sister." and I give my husband a look like "are you fucking kidding me?!" so I bring Bella over, who hasn't seen this other cat in 4 months and then I get clawed the fuck up because she's angry there's another cat in her space. DUH! Don is obviously retarded. You don't bring an animal into someone's house. They aren't children, they aren't going to play, they're going to fight to defend their territory. Not to mention I spent a shit load of money getting Bella de-nastied from being outside, and he brings over this grubby cat who I'm sure is crawling with fleas and worms!
We spend a few minutes in the doorway (I will NEVER let this guy inside. EVER) and he saw our other cats and we talked a little bit and when things finally were too weird he leans in and says "Can I be froward? Can I get a little weed off of you?" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! So we oblige "just this once" and he leaves us the fuck alone for the rest of the night. We don't hear from him for a couple days and then one night.....Don's knocking on the fucking door again!
My husband stays up late because he works evenings and he's kind of a night owl, so he hears what goes on around the complex in the wee hours of the morning when he's out on the patio having a smoke. From what he can tell Don, and his brother "Danny" are crack heads. Literally. Greeeeaaaaat. Now I will seriously NEVER let him inside. Don knocks on the door every few days looking for weed and we tell him we don't have any, shut the door and smoke a bowl...We have friends drop by through the weekend, and you know you can smell it coming from our apartment. It doesn't matter! I'm not this guy's friend! We just happen to live next door to eachother.
One morning, at 4 fucking 30, Don knocks on our door and rings our doorbell over and over like a, well, like a crackhead would. We didn't answer the door. I heard him say "What's up, man!" through the door. What's up?! It's fucking 4:30 in the morning you daft fuck! Even if you see my husband go outside for a smoke, dont assume you can come knocking on our door! CHRIST! What the fuck is wrong with people?! I think this dude's got the wrong idea...
ANYWAY.... the knocking still hasn't stopped, despite us ignoring it repeatedly....I think I just need to tell him not to knock on our door anymore. I don't want to be rude about it, but shit! Love thy Neighbor only goes so far.
Next thing I know, there's a knock on the door. I look through the peep hole to make sure it's not the cops (lol, it's always the cops in my mind) and it's my neighbor, I'll call him Don. Don says his cat is in my patio and can I please get him because he's afraid he'll run away. Well then keep him inside you fuck! Whatever. I grab his cat, hand it to him over the wall and go back inside. Half an hour later the same thing happens again. A little while later I go into my patio and the fucking cat is back there AGAIN. Okay, this is fucking annoying. I scoop up the cat, take him next door and return him to Don. Don asks if I think Mouse will run away and I said cats know where to get their food, and I'm sure he'll come back. He asked if my cats go outside, I said "No, they are strictly indoor cats." That may seem cruel, but it's for their own good, I assure you.
Later on, about 10, my husband comes home from work and we're just about to indulge in a bowl when there's a knock at our door. I made a face at my husband like 'it's fucking crazy Don from next door.' Look through the peephole and there's Don holding Mouse. It's 10 at night!! So I open the door and he says: "He wants to see his sister." and I give my husband a look like "are you fucking kidding me?!" so I bring Bella over, who hasn't seen this other cat in 4 months and then I get clawed the fuck up because she's angry there's another cat in her space. DUH! Don is obviously retarded. You don't bring an animal into someone's house. They aren't children, they aren't going to play, they're going to fight to defend their territory. Not to mention I spent a shit load of money getting Bella de-nastied from being outside, and he brings over this grubby cat who I'm sure is crawling with fleas and worms!
We spend a few minutes in the doorway (I will NEVER let this guy inside. EVER) and he saw our other cats and we talked a little bit and when things finally were too weird he leans in and says "Can I be froward? Can I get a little weed off of you?" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! So we oblige "just this once" and he leaves us the fuck alone for the rest of the night. We don't hear from him for a couple days and then one night.....Don's knocking on the fucking door again!
My husband stays up late because he works evenings and he's kind of a night owl, so he hears what goes on around the complex in the wee hours of the morning when he's out on the patio having a smoke. From what he can tell Don, and his brother "Danny" are crack heads. Literally. Greeeeaaaaat. Now I will seriously NEVER let him inside. Don knocks on the door every few days looking for weed and we tell him we don't have any, shut the door and smoke a bowl...We have friends drop by through the weekend, and you know you can smell it coming from our apartment. It doesn't matter! I'm not this guy's friend! We just happen to live next door to eachother.
One morning, at 4 fucking 30, Don knocks on our door and rings our doorbell over and over like a, well, like a crackhead would. We didn't answer the door. I heard him say "What's up, man!" through the door. What's up?! It's fucking 4:30 in the morning you daft fuck! Even if you see my husband go outside for a smoke, dont assume you can come knocking on our door! CHRIST! What the fuck is wrong with people?! I think this dude's got the wrong idea...
ANYWAY.... the knocking still hasn't stopped, despite us ignoring it repeatedly....I think I just need to tell him not to knock on our door anymore. I don't want to be rude about it, but shit! Love thy Neighbor only goes so far.
New Blog
I decided to start an entirely new blog for my more personal stories, just because I feel like this one's more casual and fun. You can check it out on my Profile if you're interested. Also, If anyone feels like leaving a comment on ANYTHING, please do. I'm all about interaction. ;-)
Friday, October 10, 2008
Why I blog
So, since I started posting back in August, I’ve been reading blogs of people who share similar interests (or share similar words in the interests section of their profile). I have come across several different styles of journaling, all very personal, full of raw emotion and obscure thought. The blogs that catch my attention share a central theme: The need to be understood and relate to others. At least that is how I feel; that’s why I started a blog. I keep coming across some incarnation of the same statement laced in people’s posts: “Nobody reads my blog (but I hope they do).” A good portion of the blogs I follow are fairly new; only a few months worth of entries at maybe two or three a month. Most people fill their page with random musings and rants, while some have a more melancholy “why are we here?” tone. I would say that almost all that I’ve read are an even mix of triviality and sincerity. Above all, they’re real.
How many times have you read someone’s blog and thought “I feel that exact same way”? Or you come across a post very similar to one of yours and they were written only days apart? I’ve laughed and cried over details of the lives of complete strangers and felt a connection to them, if only through their words. Sometimes I blush and get a little embarrassed because I feel like I’ve stumbled upon something that’s not meant for me to see! To me, blogging is a free form of therapy; a place to sound off without fear of repercussion. The semi-anonymity allows us to be open and honest and true to ourselves.
I haven’t written anything too personal here yet. I guess I’m just waiting for the right time. I have found a lot of deeply personal and some just plain hilarious blogs that I check every day! I try to leave comments on posts that interest me, or that I can relate to (there’s the theme again) but I’m kind of worried about coming off as a stalker! I just want to help promote free writing in the blogosphere. As mundane as some of you might find your own blogs, I guarantee there is someone out there who appreciates them. Someone who gets what you’re going through or has been there. Someone who shares the same interests, same philosophies or even the same name. Keep blogging, people! It is written proof that humanity is not lost. Oh, and HAPPY FRIDAY!
How many times have you read someone’s blog and thought “I feel that exact same way”? Or you come across a post very similar to one of yours and they were written only days apart? I’ve laughed and cried over details of the lives of complete strangers and felt a connection to them, if only through their words. Sometimes I blush and get a little embarrassed because I feel like I’ve stumbled upon something that’s not meant for me to see! To me, blogging is a free form of therapy; a place to sound off without fear of repercussion. The semi-anonymity allows us to be open and honest and true to ourselves.
I haven’t written anything too personal here yet. I guess I’m just waiting for the right time. I have found a lot of deeply personal and some just plain hilarious blogs that I check every day! I try to leave comments on posts that interest me, or that I can relate to (there’s the theme again) but I’m kind of worried about coming off as a stalker! I just want to help promote free writing in the blogosphere. As mundane as some of you might find your own blogs, I guarantee there is someone out there who appreciates them. Someone who gets what you’re going through or has been there. Someone who shares the same interests, same philosophies or even the same name. Keep blogging, people! It is written proof that humanity is not lost. Oh, and HAPPY FRIDAY!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Hypnopompic Hallucinations
I don’t usually tell people about this because it sounds like a big fucking lie, but maybe some of you have had similar experiences. I can’t recall how many people I’ve actually told, but my husband didn’t believe me for the longest time. I don’t know if he believes me now, but that really doesn’t mater because I know it’s real. I wish it wasn’t because it’s scary as hell, but it’s been going on for so long now that I know how to handle it. I don’t know why it’s taken me this many years to put an actual name to my affliction, but thanks to some internet research I am finding out more on the subject. So, if you think it sounds outlandish, Google it.
I was twelve, maybe 13 and I decided to volunteer at the elementary school library across the street for the summer. My friend and I helped little kids pick out books, read to them and then straitened things up when it was slow. There were little caverns in one section of the library they called “the mouse holes.” The mouse holes had giant pillows in them and light holes at the top so you could sit in them and read. One day, my friend and I went into the mouse holes to take a little break. I got too comfortable and wound up falling asleep. The next thing I know, I could hear the sounds of the library, so I was awake, but I couldn’t see! I couldn’t speak! I couldn’t move at all! I was terrified and began to hyperventilate until I passed out, and then woke back up like normal. I was visibly shaken, and I tried to explain to my friend what had happened to me, but she didn’t understand, and I think I just scared her. I told the librarian I wasn’t feeling well and needed to go home.
I was trying to explain to my parents what happened, but I wasn’t even sure… all I knew, was that it felt like someone or something was preventing me from moving. I tried to call out, but couldn’t make noise. I could hear, but I couldn’t open my eyes. It was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. My parents didn’t know what to do, so we went to the doctor. I wound up going in for an EEG. For those of you who don’t know, they stick electrodes to your head, give you a sedative and then monitor your brain waves. They put a strobe light on my face and tried to induce a seizure, but I didn’t have epilepsy, so they said “I don’t know what’s wrong” and that was that. I never discussed it with my doctor again and the subject was laid to rest. I suppose my parents chalked it up to “hormones” (every problem I had since I became 13 was hormones to them) and never really asked me about it. From what I can recall, that is. This was like half of my life ago, people. And you know how my memory is.
So, throughout the years I would go through periods where this would happen to me a lot, usually when I was under a lot of stress or didn’t get enough sleep. Some episodes were worse than others, some lasted a long time. There have been quite a few times that I would struggle to wake up, and when I’d be sitting up, I’d fall back down and go back to ‘sleep’ and have to struggle all over again. There have been a few occasions where the episodes were accompanied by sounds, voices or vibrations; even some pretty terrible nightmares where I would fight to wake up, and despite my overwhelming exhaustion, would get out of bed and walk around to keep myself from falling back into it.
Although I’ve never been formally diagnosed, I now know that I suffer (for lack of a better word) from SLEEP PARALYSIS. I guess I never went back to the Doc to discuss my findings because the episodes have become less frequent since I became an adult, and I’m in no real danger health-wise. And really, past finding the name of the disorder and finding out that it’s terrifying but harmless, I didn’t pursue any further information. I just figured it happens, I’ll survive, and when I talk about it my husband thinks I’m crazy so I should just give it a rest. Until this morning…
My husband stays up much later than I do, so I usually start sleeping on the couch and then I move to the bed when he does. So, around 4:30 I get up, get a drink of water, give the cats some water and food, pee, etc…..and get into bed. Around 6:30, I feel like I’m dreaming and I hear this deep, evil, demonic laugh come from behind me. It’s so resonant it shakes the bed! So I’m like “OH FUCK!” and I try to jump up…. nothing happens. I’m paralyzed. I’m trying my hardest to open my eyes, I’m screaming “BUB! BUB!” to my husband but my breath barely escapes my throat and I start to hyperventilate, so I try to calm down. The trick is to stay calm and regulate your breathing and let yourself gain enough strength to “rip” yourself out of bed. I lay there for what seemed like 5 minutes, although I’m sure it was just a few seconds, and then my eyes opened and I sat up in a daze. My heart was beating out of my chest and I felt like crying, but once I was fully awake, I felt okay. I nudged my husband and said “I had a bad dream, will you hold me?” and without even waking up he turned over and threw his arm over me. It took me a couple minutes, but I went back to sleep.
When I woke up 45 minutes later for work, I was so exhausted. I’m still pretty sluggish. I decided I better do some in depth research on the subject, if only to find other people who experience it. I haven’t gotten that far, but I already found a lot of interesting information. For example, some people use Sleep Paralysis as a “launchpad” for Lucid Dreaming!! Reeeeeaaally…..I don’t know a lot about LD, but being the psychonaut that I am, it caught my attention. Also, some of the things I’ve experienced like the demonic laugh, or feeling a presence in the room is typical of SP. In fact, in the dark ages people who experienced SP thought they were being possessed by demons! This is just too interesting… I’m going to go to the library and see what kind of books I can find on dreams and sleep disorders and see if I can straighten some shit out. If you, or someone you know suffer from an addiction…..wait. That’s the ending line from Intervention. If you, or someone you know have experienced SP, comment below because I would love to discuss this with someone who has been there. Sorry this post was so long. ;)
I was twelve, maybe 13 and I decided to volunteer at the elementary school library across the street for the summer. My friend and I helped little kids pick out books, read to them and then straitened things up when it was slow. There were little caverns in one section of the library they called “the mouse holes.” The mouse holes had giant pillows in them and light holes at the top so you could sit in them and read. One day, my friend and I went into the mouse holes to take a little break. I got too comfortable and wound up falling asleep. The next thing I know, I could hear the sounds of the library, so I was awake, but I couldn’t see! I couldn’t speak! I couldn’t move at all! I was terrified and began to hyperventilate until I passed out, and then woke back up like normal. I was visibly shaken, and I tried to explain to my friend what had happened to me, but she didn’t understand, and I think I just scared her. I told the librarian I wasn’t feeling well and needed to go home.
I was trying to explain to my parents what happened, but I wasn’t even sure… all I knew, was that it felt like someone or something was preventing me from moving. I tried to call out, but couldn’t make noise. I could hear, but I couldn’t open my eyes. It was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. My parents didn’t know what to do, so we went to the doctor. I wound up going in for an EEG. For those of you who don’t know, they stick electrodes to your head, give you a sedative and then monitor your brain waves. They put a strobe light on my face and tried to induce a seizure, but I didn’t have epilepsy, so they said “I don’t know what’s wrong” and that was that. I never discussed it with my doctor again and the subject was laid to rest. I suppose my parents chalked it up to “hormones” (every problem I had since I became 13 was hormones to them) and never really asked me about it. From what I can recall, that is. This was like half of my life ago, people. And you know how my memory is.
So, throughout the years I would go through periods where this would happen to me a lot, usually when I was under a lot of stress or didn’t get enough sleep. Some episodes were worse than others, some lasted a long time. There have been quite a few times that I would struggle to wake up, and when I’d be sitting up, I’d fall back down and go back to ‘sleep’ and have to struggle all over again. There have been a few occasions where the episodes were accompanied by sounds, voices or vibrations; even some pretty terrible nightmares where I would fight to wake up, and despite my overwhelming exhaustion, would get out of bed and walk around to keep myself from falling back into it.
Although I’ve never been formally diagnosed, I now know that I suffer (for lack of a better word) from SLEEP PARALYSIS. I guess I never went back to the Doc to discuss my findings because the episodes have become less frequent since I became an adult, and I’m in no real danger health-wise. And really, past finding the name of the disorder and finding out that it’s terrifying but harmless, I didn’t pursue any further information. I just figured it happens, I’ll survive, and when I talk about it my husband thinks I’m crazy so I should just give it a rest. Until this morning…
My husband stays up much later than I do, so I usually start sleeping on the couch and then I move to the bed when he does. So, around 4:30 I get up, get a drink of water, give the cats some water and food, pee, etc…..and get into bed. Around 6:30, I feel like I’m dreaming and I hear this deep, evil, demonic laugh come from behind me. It’s so resonant it shakes the bed! So I’m like “OH FUCK!” and I try to jump up…. nothing happens. I’m paralyzed. I’m trying my hardest to open my eyes, I’m screaming “BUB! BUB!” to my husband but my breath barely escapes my throat and I start to hyperventilate, so I try to calm down. The trick is to stay calm and regulate your breathing and let yourself gain enough strength to “rip” yourself out of bed. I lay there for what seemed like 5 minutes, although I’m sure it was just a few seconds, and then my eyes opened and I sat up in a daze. My heart was beating out of my chest and I felt like crying, but once I was fully awake, I felt okay. I nudged my husband and said “I had a bad dream, will you hold me?” and without even waking up he turned over and threw his arm over me. It took me a couple minutes, but I went back to sleep.
When I woke up 45 minutes later for work, I was so exhausted. I’m still pretty sluggish. I decided I better do some in depth research on the subject, if only to find other people who experience it. I haven’t gotten that far, but I already found a lot of interesting information. For example, some people use Sleep Paralysis as a “launchpad” for Lucid Dreaming!! Reeeeeaaally…..I don’t know a lot about LD, but being the psychonaut that I am, it caught my attention. Also, some of the things I’ve experienced like the demonic laugh, or feeling a presence in the room is typical of SP. In fact, in the dark ages people who experienced SP thought they were being possessed by demons! This is just too interesting… I’m going to go to the library and see what kind of books I can find on dreams and sleep disorders and see if I can straighten some shit out. If you, or someone you know suffer from an addiction…..wait. That’s the ending line from Intervention. If you, or someone you know have experienced SP, comment below because I would love to discuss this with someone who has been there. Sorry this post was so long. ;)
Friday, September 26, 2008
Traffic Lights and Bowls
Some days you hit all the greens. :) Today is one of those days. Happy Friday.
Friday, September 19, 2008
WAAAHHH!!!!
First, I just want to say that Star Wars: The Force Unleashed is an AMAZING game and I love it. It’s just too bad I can’t play it for a while because my Playstation DIED last night after I had my new game for like an hour. I am so sad, you have no idea. No Blu-rays, no games…. My weekend is fucking shot. :( But absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? So when we get the PS3 back and in perfect working order I’m sure we’ll appreciate it more and take better care of it. You know, not run it for hours on end. Lol When we first got the PS3, I saw this exhaust fan for extra ventilation and I was thinking “Are you serious? We don’t need that.” Now I really wish we had gotten it. :( I read in someone’s blog that they measured the temp behind their unit and it got up to 120 degrees!! I believe it, though because I was standing next to my wall unit and I could feel the heat radiating from all my electrical components and I was thinking. “Um, it’s a little warm back there, maybe I should turn everything off…” I should have. Sigh…. Oh well.
**UPDATE** Instead of sending it back to Sony, we just replaced the hard drive. We now have 250G of space on our PS3. The important thing is, I get to play Star Wars some more... I'll give it a proper review when I've passed a few levels... :D
**UPDATE** Instead of sending it back to Sony, we just replaced the hard drive. We now have 250G of space on our PS3. The important thing is, I get to play Star Wars some more... I'll give it a proper review when I've passed a few levels... :D
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Hell Yes
So my husband pulls $60 from the sky and says that I can go buy Star Wars: The Force Unleashed, today. YAY!!!! I can't fucking wait to get out of work and go to my friendly neighborhood Gamestop! If you are a Star Wars fan, hell, even if you aren't a Star Wars fan I recommend you at least check out the demo version of this game. If you are unfamiliar with the premise of this title let me fill you in. FUCK I'M SO EXCITED!!! Okay, okay. So, it's a one person RPG and you are Darth Vader's Apprentice; and while I usually favor co-op battle games like Star Wars: Battlefronts and The Return of the King (if you didn't know I am a nerd before, you know now) I played the demo and fell in love. I can see myself losing hours of sleep to this game. :) You can rest assured that I will have a lot to say about it once I get to play the full version. Until then.........
$19 Bill
So I had a weird dream last night. I was trying on my old band uniform. (that's right, I was in band. Wanna fight about it?) and I found a whole bunch of money in the pockets. My real uniform in high school didn't have pockets, but my dream uniform did. Anyway, I pulled out a couple 20s, a ten, two ones and a freakin' $19 bill. What does that mean?
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Seasons Change
Here we are, the end of Summer and beginning of Fall. It's bittersweet, really. Time to say goodbye to the people we’ve seen every week for the past few months, and reconnect with the ones who have been missing. That’s right. I’m talking about Prime Time Television. Here’s the rundown from my favorite shows:
Last night was the season finale of Wipeout, a show I didn’t think was that great at first, but still scheduled it on my DVR and watched every single episode. lol The BEST moment in my opinion was when contestant Jim Wakefield told Jill “I’m going to try not to poo in my wetsuit.” That shit was hilarious! Not quite MXC, but amusing nonetheless.
Monday, Weeds ended with Nancy avoiding certain death AGAIN. Shane follows in the family business selling pot to his middle school buddies. Silas finally turns 18 and Andy struggles with loving Nancy. And he gets to see her boobs.
Intervention had a special “After Treatment” show, I don’t know if that means they are wrapping up this season or what… I think they showed a new episode this past week. Chad was by far my favorite, followed by Dillon who ultimately said “Treatment is not for me.” I’ve got to be honest, he seemed like a well put together addict. His mom seemed like a bitch.
The Shield just aired episode 3 of what is supposed to be its “last season.” Yeah. They said that three seasons ago when Glen Close was still the Captain. No matter how bad I think the first couple episodes of the season are, or how terrible their choice in music is, I STILL get sucked in by this show. Why? “I got a listenin’ problem!” (if you know where that’s from I give you props. Lol)
Next Monday, Heroes: Villains begins and I am so excited to see who is good and who is bad. It’s like Xavier vs. Magneto. When this show first started, I was worried that they would take the comic book inspiration too far, but I like what they’ve done. I like that Hiro can bend Space/Time. He’s my favorite. I think it’s cool that some of the original Star Trek cast is part of the show. Congrats to George Takei for marrying his long time partner, Brad Altman. May they live long and prosper.
Also on ABC, Eli Stone comes back for its second season starting October 14th. I read somewhere that Katie Holmes is going to be making an appearance. Whoopee. I actually started watching this show because it used to come on after LOST and my DVR would catch the very beginning of it. Plus I love Johnny Lee Miller. Hackers and Trainspotting are great movies. This show is kind of like Aly McBeal meets Tru Calling.
Coming in 2009, are two reality shows (gasp!) that I’ve come to love. Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not big on reality TV, but apparently there’s a show for everyone.
Hell’s Kitchen is a fantastic show! I resisted watching this the first couple seasons, but I caught the majority of this last one. WHOA… Gordon Ramsey is out of control! But I love it. People always say “Isn’t he a dick?” YES but have you seen some of the douche bags he has to work with? It’s not like he doesn’t compliment the people who do a good job. By the time it got down to the final two, his demeanor had totally changed. My friends have asked me when I’m going to audition… HA! First off, I don’t know how to make Beef Wellington, and second I would be way too scared. I would like to eat at his restaurant, though…
Number two on my Reality shows list is a new show called Groomer Has It on Animal Planet. I started watching this show because of its ridiculous commercials, and it turned out to be more amusing than you can imagine. In the usual RTV fashion, all the contestants share a house and one by one they get eliminated….Drama breaks out over the craziest shit….oh god, it’s funny. Jai Rodriguez from Queer Eye is the host and the panel of judges (I hope they are the same next season) kind of mirror the judges from American Idol. There’s a big Italian guy who can be critical but fair, the mean skinny guy (that I love) who makes everyone sweat, and the lone woman who gives the best compliments and never gets mad, just disappointed. Watch it. It’s great.
I’m not trying to pick up any new shows this season…If it happens, it happens but I’m not going out of my way… I do have other things to do besides watch TV. Like play video games. lol I think I’m getting Star Wars: The Force Unleashed this weekend, and Guitar Hero World Tour comes out October 27th so I have my work cut out for me. ;-)
Last night was the season finale of Wipeout, a show I didn’t think was that great at first, but still scheduled it on my DVR and watched every single episode. lol The BEST moment in my opinion was when contestant Jim Wakefield told Jill “I’m going to try not to poo in my wetsuit.” That shit was hilarious! Not quite MXC, but amusing nonetheless.
Monday, Weeds ended with Nancy avoiding certain death AGAIN. Shane follows in the family business selling pot to his middle school buddies. Silas finally turns 18 and Andy struggles with loving Nancy. And he gets to see her boobs.
Intervention had a special “After Treatment” show, I don’t know if that means they are wrapping up this season or what… I think they showed a new episode this past week. Chad was by far my favorite, followed by Dillon who ultimately said “Treatment is not for me.” I’ve got to be honest, he seemed like a well put together addict. His mom seemed like a bitch.
The Shield just aired episode 3 of what is supposed to be its “last season.” Yeah. They said that three seasons ago when Glen Close was still the Captain. No matter how bad I think the first couple episodes of the season are, or how terrible their choice in music is, I STILL get sucked in by this show. Why? “I got a listenin’ problem!” (if you know where that’s from I give you props. Lol)
Next Monday, Heroes: Villains begins and I am so excited to see who is good and who is bad. It’s like Xavier vs. Magneto. When this show first started, I was worried that they would take the comic book inspiration too far, but I like what they’ve done. I like that Hiro can bend Space/Time. He’s my favorite. I think it’s cool that some of the original Star Trek cast is part of the show. Congrats to George Takei for marrying his long time partner, Brad Altman. May they live long and prosper.
Also on ABC, Eli Stone comes back for its second season starting October 14th. I read somewhere that Katie Holmes is going to be making an appearance. Whoopee. I actually started watching this show because it used to come on after LOST and my DVR would catch the very beginning of it. Plus I love Johnny Lee Miller. Hackers and Trainspotting are great movies. This show is kind of like Aly McBeal meets Tru Calling.Coming in 2009, are two reality shows (gasp!) that I’ve come to love. Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not big on reality TV, but apparently there’s a show for everyone.
Hell’s Kitchen is a fantastic show! I resisted watching this the first couple seasons, but I caught the majority of this last one. WHOA… Gordon Ramsey is out of control! But I love it. People always say “Isn’t he a dick?” YES but have you seen some of the douche bags he has to work with? It’s not like he doesn’t compliment the people who do a good job. By the time it got down to the final two, his demeanor had totally changed. My friends have asked me when I’m going to audition… HA! First off, I don’t know how to make Beef Wellington, and second I would be way too scared. I would like to eat at his restaurant, though…
Number two on my Reality shows list is a new show called Groomer Has It on Animal Planet. I started watching this show because of its ridiculous commercials, and it turned out to be more amusing than you can imagine. In the usual RTV fashion, all the contestants share a house and one by one they get eliminated….Drama breaks out over the craziest shit….oh god, it’s funny. Jai Rodriguez from Queer Eye is the host and the panel of judges (I hope they are the same next season) kind of mirror the judges from American Idol. There’s a big Italian guy who can be critical but fair, the mean skinny guy (that I love) who makes everyone sweat, and the lone woman who gives the best compliments and never gets mad, just disappointed. Watch it. It’s great.I’m not trying to pick up any new shows this season…If it happens, it happens but I’m not going out of my way… I do have other things to do besides watch TV. Like play video games. lol I think I’m getting Star Wars: The Force Unleashed this weekend, and Guitar Hero World Tour comes out October 27th so I have my work cut out for me. ;-)
Friday, September 12, 2008
Pikachu, I choose......Daniel Radcliffe?
Let me start by saying that I am not, nor have I ever been a Harry Potter fan. It has nothing to do with the content of the stories, as I have never read the books nor seen the movies. The problem I have with the Harry Potter franchise is that when it first arrived on the scene and became enormously popular in the United States, it overshadowed a child-friendly staple that is near and dear to my heart: Pokemon. That’s right. My beef with Harry Potter is that he stole the limelight that once surrounded Ash, Pikachu and all the other lovable characters (Team Rocket included) that had occupied my after-school hours (HIGH school, by the way). Kids that once dressed in brightly colored Poke-suits on Halloween now donned stripey scarves and geek-glasses on their Trick or Treat excursions. sigh…
For many years I refused to even acknowledge Harry Potter. I had friends who read the books and saw the movies. They’d try to get me interested and I would REFUSE, declaring my allegiance to the Pokehood. I am a die-hard would-have-Pikachu-tattooed-on-my-ass Pokemon fan. I have all million and one episodes on DVD and have spent countless hours having Pokemon-a-thons with my husband and sister-in-law. I know all the words to all the theme songs, and I even saw Pokemon: The First Movie in the theatre. {The part at the end where Ash turns to stone and the Pokemon bring him back to life with their tears STILL makes me cry. lol}
I have recently come to grips with the fact that Pokemon was a fad, and even though its popularity has waned, there are many true fans, like myself that will help it live on forever. {In July, my husband had a migraine that led us to the ER early in the morning and in the waiting room were two youngsters each equipped with a Nintendo DS talking about battles and evolving. I smiled at my husband and said “They’re playing Pokemon!” It isn’t dead after all.}
Still, I haven’t checked out a single Harry Potter book or movie. I feel like it’s a little too late to recant my previous hatred, but today one VERY interesting thing caught my attention: The coming of age of Daniel Radcliffe. Holy Statutory is he one good-looking kid! I was reading an article about his upcoming Broadway debut and the picture attached to it looked nothing like the young Harry Potter of yesterday. In fact, he looks very similar to another actor I used to “have it bad” for, Mr. Frodo himself, Elijah Wood. {I wrote Elijah a letter when I was like 11 asking him to be my boyfriend! I had myself totally convinced he’d say yes.} I know Dan Rad is only 19, but damn! Move over, Zack Efron, this guy’s got you beat. AND he has an accent. Nice… ;-)
Love that little bit of “I’m not a teen,
but I’m not an adult” facial hair.
I’m a hobbit, I’m a cannibal. I can be anything you want.
For many years I refused to even acknowledge Harry Potter. I had friends who read the books and saw the movies. They’d try to get me interested and I would REFUSE, declaring my allegiance to the Pokehood. I am a die-hard would-have-Pikachu-tattooed-on-my-ass Pokemon fan. I have all million and one episodes on DVD and have spent countless hours having Pokemon-a-thons with my husband and sister-in-law. I know all the words to all the theme songs, and I even saw Pokemon: The First Movie in the theatre. {The part at the end where Ash turns to stone and the Pokemon bring him back to life with their tears STILL makes me cry. lol}
I have recently come to grips with the fact that Pokemon was a fad, and even though its popularity has waned, there are many true fans, like myself that will help it live on forever. {In July, my husband had a migraine that led us to the ER early in the morning and in the waiting room were two youngsters each equipped with a Nintendo DS talking about battles and evolving. I smiled at my husband and said “They’re playing Pokemon!” It isn’t dead after all.}
Still, I haven’t checked out a single Harry Potter book or movie. I feel like it’s a little too late to recant my previous hatred, but today one VERY interesting thing caught my attention: The coming of age of Daniel Radcliffe. Holy Statutory is he one good-looking kid! I was reading an article about his upcoming Broadway debut and the picture attached to it looked nothing like the young Harry Potter of yesterday. In fact, he looks very similar to another actor I used to “have it bad” for, Mr. Frodo himself, Elijah Wood. {I wrote Elijah a letter when I was like 11 asking him to be my boyfriend! I had myself totally convinced he’d say yes.} I know Dan Rad is only 19, but damn! Move over, Zack Efron, this guy’s got you beat. AND he has an accent. Nice… ;-)
Love that little bit of “I’m not a teen,
but I’m not an adult” facial hair.
I’m a hobbit, I’m a cannibal. I can be anything you want.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Caribou Coffee
Quick Product Plug!! I LOVE this coffee....with all the fast food restaurants doing iced coffee these days, I've tried a lot of stuff. I've found the only way to get a consistently good cold coffee is to buy it pre-packaged. I know Starbuck's has made bottled coffee for years, and I like it, but this stuff has less than half the calories and doesn't give you a heart attack (if you're sensitive to caffeine like me). It's my new addiction. Look for it at Albertson's or Target stores near you!!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Dumb Story # 1 aka Stretch Armstrong
When I was in high school I was in honors and AP classes but I wasn't ever one of those kids. I was intelligent, but I got just above average grades because I was more interested in socializing than learning. Anyway, the point is, I was no idiot. I wasn't one of those ditsy girls who had no class or culture. In the last few years, though I have noticed a change in my intellect. Don’t get me wrong, I think I am much smarter now than I ever was in high school and a lot more street wise at that. Not to mention that the internet has opened my mind to so many new things, some I’ve researched at great length.
The problem seems to be that sometimes my mind has a little trouble with really simple, common knowledge things. I don’t know if this is an age thing, a memory thing or, well, a weed thing. I suspect it’s the latter. Those of you lucky enough to partake in the sacred plant might know what I’m talking about. And maybe you can remember having moments like these. ;-) So with that I give you the first of many Dumb Stories.
Dumb Story # 1 aka Stretch Armstrong
Monday was Labor Day any my sister in law and her husband were over eating pizza. They were sitting on one couch and I was sitting next to my husband on the other. We live in a downstairs apartment and you can hear the people that live above us walking around, moving furniture and stuff like that, but we’ve lived downstairs for so long I don’t even notice those noises.
My brother in law looks up at the ceiling and says something about how much noise my neighbors are making. I told him that I don’t notice it except for (okay brace yourselves) “when that fat little retard is running around.”
{Okay, first of all, I know that’s horrible to call anyone a retard, especially a fat retard, especially a fat little retarded child. Seriously though, you don’t live by this kid, and I do and I call ‘em like I see ‘em. He’s annoying as shit, he’s mean to his friends who only hang out with him because he’s so much bigger, they figure he can be their muscle…he’s just one of those ADD out-of-control little bastards you want to slap in the grocery store.}
ANYWAY after I said that SIL and her husband, knowing what an asshole I am, started laughing. :-D Come on. Say “Fat Little Retard” without laughing. You know you are trying to picture what this little kid looks like, don’t lie. So they assumed I called him that because I don’t know his name, but I said “No, I do. It’s Lance.” More laughter, and then for reasons that pertain to a different story, my SIL says “Fuck Lance Armstrong!” and we all nod in agreement but I decide to take it one step further (regrettably) and say “Yeah. I like Buzz Aldrin better.” My comment was met by blank stares of disbelief and I have to be honest; for a second I’m sitting there thinking, ‘come on. you know who Buzz Aldrin is.’ so I say “Buzz Aldrin’s hilarious! I saw him on TV…” and that’s when it hits me. We were talking about LANCE Armstrong. NOT NEIL. Sigh…..God, I felt like a moron! But I guess it made for good laughs. :D
**Due to the stoned nature of the writer, some facts may be incorrect, exaggerated or totally untrue.
The problem seems to be that sometimes my mind has a little trouble with really simple, common knowledge things. I don’t know if this is an age thing, a memory thing or, well, a weed thing. I suspect it’s the latter. Those of you lucky enough to partake in the sacred plant might know what I’m talking about. And maybe you can remember having moments like these. ;-) So with that I give you the first of many Dumb Stories.
Dumb Story # 1 aka Stretch Armstrong
Monday was Labor Day any my sister in law and her husband were over eating pizza. They were sitting on one couch and I was sitting next to my husband on the other. We live in a downstairs apartment and you can hear the people that live above us walking around, moving furniture and stuff like that, but we’ve lived downstairs for so long I don’t even notice those noises.
My brother in law looks up at the ceiling and says something about how much noise my neighbors are making. I told him that I don’t notice it except for (okay brace yourselves) “when that fat little retard is running around.”
{Okay, first of all, I know that’s horrible to call anyone a retard, especially a fat retard, especially a fat little retarded child. Seriously though, you don’t live by this kid, and I do and I call ‘em like I see ‘em. He’s annoying as shit, he’s mean to his friends who only hang out with him because he’s so much bigger, they figure he can be their muscle…he’s just one of those ADD out-of-control little bastards you want to slap in the grocery store.}
ANYWAY after I said that SIL and her husband, knowing what an asshole I am, started laughing. :-D Come on. Say “Fat Little Retard” without laughing. You know you are trying to picture what this little kid looks like, don’t lie. So they assumed I called him that because I don’t know his name, but I said “No, I do. It’s Lance.” More laughter, and then for reasons that pertain to a different story, my SIL says “Fuck Lance Armstrong!” and we all nod in agreement but I decide to take it one step further (regrettably) and say “Yeah. I like Buzz Aldrin better.” My comment was met by blank stares of disbelief and I have to be honest; for a second I’m sitting there thinking, ‘come on. you know who Buzz Aldrin is.’ so I say “Buzz Aldrin’s hilarious! I saw him on TV…” and that’s when it hits me. We were talking about LANCE Armstrong. NOT NEIL. Sigh…..God, I felt like a moron! But I guess it made for good laughs. :D
**Due to the stoned nature of the writer, some facts may be incorrect, exaggerated or totally untrue.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Smelly Couch - Statutory Bathing
So it's been a few days since the puke incident. I feel kind of bad blasting that kid in my last post. He wasn't acting stupid or disrespectful when he threw up, he looked like he was feeling pretty bad, actually. But still, after five days and multiple cleaners applied to various parts of my living room, my apartment still has a faint, pungent vomit smell. Even after half a bottle of febreeze, a pack of incense, grilling with the patio door open and sauteing onions, I can STILL smell it. I can't afford to rent a rug doctor right now, otherwise I would. Anyway, we're still waiting for him to contact us about some form of compensation, at least throw me $13 for the carpet cleaner and Febreeze. This reminds me of a story...
My senior year in high school, I made friends with this freshman. We were both in band, and for the first few months of the school year, we spent practically every weekend on a bus going to football games and competitions. So she quickly became part of my group of friends and thus got invited to our parties. We were actually a pretty tame group of kids, me being the most uptight, threatening to tell peoples' parents if they so much as smoked a joint (I know, IRONIC! but that's a different post) so basically everyone drank Smirnoff Ice because that was the big thing back then and a couple people made drinks in the blender as if they new how. I didn't drink, I just liked to be in the loop. One of my good friends had the house to herself for a weekend and decided to get together a bunch of money and have her cousin buy her as much alcohol as she could afford. So, my boyfriend (now my husband) and I invited our freshman to go with us, because she was really cool and her parents were really cool so it's not like we had to sneak around.
So the party is underway and I happened upon an OG Nintendo complete with Duck Hunt so that was keeping me busy for a while. My freshman was off being social and I told a bunch of people "Do not let her drink a lot, she has to be ready for brunch in the morning!" And I went back to my video games...
I can't recall how much time had passed, but all of sudden there's a loud thud on the other side of the door to the room I was in. I opened the door and there's my freshman laying in and covered with her own bright pink margarita puke. Yum. Oh yeah, so my sister in law was also at this party, only a year younger than me and barely 100 pounds she could hold her liquor like no body's business. She's drunk and passing out, and Freshie's drunk and throwing up. I had my dad's Jimmy that night, so we folded down the back seats, lined the inside with black trash bags and load the two drunkies up. My poor SIL is passed out and getting barfed on, while Fresh has got her hands all in the window! I kept saying "Put your fucking hands down! We'll get pulled over and I'll be arrested!" and she's going "I'm sorry, Shalene. I love you!" sigh....
We get back to my place and BF helps me get Freshie into the bathroom and he takes his sister home in my truck, with NO driver's license. Meanwhile I'm figuring out how to de-barf Freshie. She's too drunk to stand, and she's taller than me, so I don't want us both to go down and whack our heads on the tub. Then there's the whole I'm 18, she's not and I've got to get her naked and into the bath. I'm like "Am I going to get into trouble for this?" ha ha ha so.......I say 'Fuck it' and get her out of her nasty puke ensemble and coax her into the tub. The whole time she's still saying "I'm sorry, Shalene. I love you" as I'm scrubbing her up and washing her hair like a toddler. Got her out, dried her off and put her in some of my PJs to sleep it off. The next morning she wakes up in different clothes like "What the fuck happened?" and I still got her home in time for brunch. Yes!!! Victory! The end of the school year she writes in my yearbook "...Thanks for, yeah. Let's never talk about that." I graduated and lost contact with her, but I hear things every once in a while and wonder what she's up to.
Anyway, the point of that story is, everyone's got to deal with a little puke from their friends every once in a while. And while I'm still pretty pissed about my couch and my carpet, I am very grateful to the friend who helped clean it up. Because I know how it is. I do have to say this though: No body's ever had to clean up my puke. And I hope they never do. ;-)
My senior year in high school, I made friends with this freshman. We were both in band, and for the first few months of the school year, we spent practically every weekend on a bus going to football games and competitions. So she quickly became part of my group of friends and thus got invited to our parties. We were actually a pretty tame group of kids, me being the most uptight, threatening to tell peoples' parents if they so much as smoked a joint (I know, IRONIC! but that's a different post) so basically everyone drank Smirnoff Ice because that was the big thing back then and a couple people made drinks in the blender as if they new how. I didn't drink, I just liked to be in the loop. One of my good friends had the house to herself for a weekend and decided to get together a bunch of money and have her cousin buy her as much alcohol as she could afford. So, my boyfriend (now my husband) and I invited our freshman to go with us, because she was really cool and her parents were really cool so it's not like we had to sneak around.
So the party is underway and I happened upon an OG Nintendo complete with Duck Hunt so that was keeping me busy for a while. My freshman was off being social and I told a bunch of people "Do not let her drink a lot, she has to be ready for brunch in the morning!" And I went back to my video games...
I can't recall how much time had passed, but all of sudden there's a loud thud on the other side of the door to the room I was in. I opened the door and there's my freshman laying in and covered with her own bright pink margarita puke. Yum. Oh yeah, so my sister in law was also at this party, only a year younger than me and barely 100 pounds she could hold her liquor like no body's business. She's drunk and passing out, and Freshie's drunk and throwing up. I had my dad's Jimmy that night, so we folded down the back seats, lined the inside with black trash bags and load the two drunkies up. My poor SIL is passed out and getting barfed on, while Fresh has got her hands all in the window! I kept saying "Put your fucking hands down! We'll get pulled over and I'll be arrested!" and she's going "I'm sorry, Shalene. I love you!" sigh....
We get back to my place and BF helps me get Freshie into the bathroom and he takes his sister home in my truck, with NO driver's license. Meanwhile I'm figuring out how to de-barf Freshie. She's too drunk to stand, and she's taller than me, so I don't want us both to go down and whack our heads on the tub. Then there's the whole I'm 18, she's not and I've got to get her naked and into the bath. I'm like "Am I going to get into trouble for this?" ha ha ha so.......I say 'Fuck it' and get her out of her nasty puke ensemble and coax her into the tub. The whole time she's still saying "I'm sorry, Shalene. I love you" as I'm scrubbing her up and washing her hair like a toddler. Got her out, dried her off and put her in some of my PJs to sleep it off. The next morning she wakes up in different clothes like "What the fuck happened?" and I still got her home in time for brunch. Yes!!! Victory! The end of the school year she writes in my yearbook "...Thanks for, yeah. Let's never talk about that." I graduated and lost contact with her, but I hear things every once in a while and wonder what she's up to.
Anyway, the point of that story is, everyone's got to deal with a little puke from their friends every once in a while. And while I'm still pretty pissed about my couch and my carpet, I am very grateful to the friend who helped clean it up. Because I know how it is. I do have to say this though: No body's ever had to clean up my puke. And I hope they never do. ;-)
Monday, August 11, 2008
Pineapple Express
So, being a partaker of fine herb, I was so excited to see the trailer to Pineapple Express back in May. I waited all summer posting little notes that said " ___ Days to Pineapple Express" and drawing little pineapples on my calendar. I even made a Pineapple Upside Down Cake (with infused butter if you know what I mean) for the occasion. Friday night, the movie is at 10:20. A little after 9, two of my husbands co-workers come over to smoke a little before we go to the movie. You can't go see a stoner movie all clear-eyed and shit! It's just not right.
So we're chillin and talking, and one of the coworkers asks if his friend can join us. Normally we'd discourage outsiders tagging along, but we had met this kid and he was nice and more importantly packed his own goods. Kid comes over, we continue our rotation, everything is fine. I'm getting ready to serve my PU cake and I notice our little friend with his head in his hands...I'm laughing inside thinking "Light weight, you don't even belong here." Seriously, this kid had like 10 year old lungs. 10 o'clock, everyone is cleaning up their cake dishes and we're getting ready to leave when all of a sudden.....BLUUUUGHHHH!!!! Kid pukes all over my fucking carpet and a little on my couch.
Here we are, minutes away from seeing the movie I've waited ALL SUMMER to see and now I have to deal with a puke pile in the middle of my living room. For a couple seconds we all sat around wondering if that had really happened. I grab a few towels, run them under water and hand them to someone else. I didn’t invite this kid, I don’t know him, I sure as hell didn’t give birth to him, so I’m not cleaning his ass up.
Soooo…..rather than be rushed and miss the first part of the movie, we decide to go to the 11:30. That gave me enough time to run to Vons for some Woolite and Febreeze. At this point, I don’t even want to go anymore. I didn’t want to be cunt about it, well no, I DID want to be a cunt about it, but instead I just said “It’s okay, we can clean the rug, blah blah blah…” when I really want to say “Are you fucking serious?! Two hits and you puke on my rug? You couldn’t tell it was going to happen? What are you, like 5? Jesus H!”
We went to the later showing and left him sleeping on my other couch that he didn’t puke on which now smells like puke because HE smelled like puke. Sigh…..so the whole rest of my weekend was shot because we couldn’t for the life of us get rid of the puke smell completely. I mean, the kid puked like 3 feet away from where we EAT EVERY DAY!! I wonder if he even realizes how much trouble he was. “Sorry for the rug.” Well buddy, how about my couch? My weekend? My future meals? Are you sorry for ruining those too? I won’t even mention what a bad name he gives our counter-cultural lifestyle… This kid’s license to bong has been officially revoked.
So we're chillin and talking, and one of the coworkers asks if his friend can join us. Normally we'd discourage outsiders tagging along, but we had met this kid and he was nice and more importantly packed his own goods. Kid comes over, we continue our rotation, everything is fine. I'm getting ready to serve my PU cake and I notice our little friend with his head in his hands...I'm laughing inside thinking "Light weight, you don't even belong here." Seriously, this kid had like 10 year old lungs. 10 o'clock, everyone is cleaning up their cake dishes and we're getting ready to leave when all of a sudden.....BLUUUUGHHHH!!!! Kid pukes all over my fucking carpet and a little on my couch.
Here we are, minutes away from seeing the movie I've waited ALL SUMMER to see and now I have to deal with a puke pile in the middle of my living room. For a couple seconds we all sat around wondering if that had really happened. I grab a few towels, run them under water and hand them to someone else. I didn’t invite this kid, I don’t know him, I sure as hell didn’t give birth to him, so I’m not cleaning his ass up.
Soooo…..rather than be rushed and miss the first part of the movie, we decide to go to the 11:30. That gave me enough time to run to Vons for some Woolite and Febreeze. At this point, I don’t even want to go anymore. I didn’t want to be cunt about it, well no, I DID want to be a cunt about it, but instead I just said “It’s okay, we can clean the rug, blah blah blah…” when I really want to say “Are you fucking serious?! Two hits and you puke on my rug? You couldn’t tell it was going to happen? What are you, like 5? Jesus H!”
We went to the later showing and left him sleeping on my other couch that he didn’t puke on which now smells like puke because HE smelled like puke. Sigh…..so the whole rest of my weekend was shot because we couldn’t for the life of us get rid of the puke smell completely. I mean, the kid puked like 3 feet away from where we EAT EVERY DAY!! I wonder if he even realizes how much trouble he was. “Sorry for the rug.” Well buddy, how about my couch? My weekend? My future meals? Are you sorry for ruining those too? I won’t even mention what a bad name he gives our counter-cultural lifestyle… This kid’s license to bong has been officially revoked.
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