Friday, July 31, 2009

Love. This.

(click to embiggen)


Technologically Inept

No, not me. I'm a genius. Hahahaha....

Anyway, I have worked in several jobs where I was easily the most technologically capable person in the place. Not that I'm writing C++ or anything, I'm just, like, 35% more familiar with computers and their workings than your average mid-twenties person. And this doesn't really bother me, until the old farts I work with dismiss the knowledge I have as either useless or unimportant. For example, Finishing Touch. There was a perfectly usable MS-DOS sort of system for inventory that was (and probably still is) completely FUBARed. You know why? Because everything in the store had a sticker on it. As in, when we would get inventory in, we would take a pricing gun and sticker every individual item as $**.95. Then, when people bought these items, we would just ring them up as "ITEM $**.95" on the register. God forbid we take a little time and put the correct price into the system corresponding to the correct UPC code, right? The thing was, I spent some time one day to take 1 of each type of candle-y thing in some Yankee Candle scent, and put them in. When I showed the boss, he was completely against it. He specifically instructed the ladies to put the stickers OVER THE BARCODES, which irritated me to no end. WHY, if you have a functioning system, wouldn't you just use it?! I think he was afraid of computers, to be honest. The one time, I had to try to figure out why the computer that prints the daily business wasn't printing, so I went into the Windows 95 OS it was running on to look at the settings and he about flipped out. "What is that?! It has never done that before!! I don't think you should be doing that ("that" being opening folders to see what was in them and viewing the "Properties" to see how big the hard drive was)" which implied that not only did I not know what I was doing with this computer, but that HE knew better (which was so far from true, I cannot even put it into words). Oh my LORD I couldn't stand him.... This is the same boss that would watch the employees on the security cameras and if it looked like you weren't actively being busy, he would call the phone nearest to you from his desk in his office and say, "What are you working on right now?" so you'd go get to work touching every piece of merchandise in the store. It didn't really matter if you were actually doing anything, he just insisted that you look like you were doing something.

Well, that was an unexpected outpouring of hatred for ignorance of that man... but, anyway... I started this post because my wonderful, wonderful boss (that I love working for/with) just doesn't get it, either. I kind of think he views computers as typewriters where you can erase. Don't get me wrong, he uses email and the internet (sort of...), but he's a fax machine kind of guy and we print EVERYTHING (even though I know why we do, and it's not that big of a deal). I guess I just feel like we could be using these 2 iMacs in the office much more effectively (can I get a what, what, co-workerladyma'am?) He's so funny, though. There are 2 things that will make him super mad in about 3 seconds: When he can't find something (usually because I didn't file it in the right place...oops) and then the printer won't work. Usually it's just a turn it off, turn it back on fix, but he just gets so worked up about it. I guess I just half expect technology to get screwed up at some point or another, so it doesn't get to me, but man. And every time he goes, "Why can't things just work?" which, given that the printer may screw up for 4 hours collectively out of the whole month, for the most part, it does just work.

So, basically, all I'm saying is that it's a good thing I've grown too lazy to try instigate any changes, because it would likely just make me angry and frustrated. Lazy is clearly the better option.

It usually is, I find.


Thursday, July 30, 2009


This was me about 20 minutes ago

Y'ALL!! Ok, so I'm a bit of a big ol' nerd and I just have to tell everybody that I feel like a frickin' genius right now.

I have been trying to get SimTower to work for quite some time. It was sort of a cycle where I would remember how much I love to play old DOS games and I'd play the one or two that I have made work reliably (either with the CD I still have or that I downloaded) and I get on a mission to make SimTower work again. Like I said the other day, Dosbox has been the coolest thing to work with because it seriously is taking me back 15 years to when I was a kid in the 90s playing on my dad's computer. Everything from the way the directory structure and navigation handles to the sounds (oh! The sounds!!) is just totally perfect. But I could never make SimTower work because it would give me an error message that said it needed Windows to run. I use a MacBook Pro, and I wouldn't have had access to Windows installation disks... ever, much less have a way to run them now. My mom inadvertently gave me the idea to try to find the game FOR Mac, but because I have an Intel based Mac, it doesn't have the Classic OS already installed, so I would have to run Classic OS through an emulator, too. After barking up that tree for a while, it was back to the drawing board (read: I came home and took a 4 hour nap, which is really more of a baby-sleep than nap, anyway).

Well, ladies and gentlemen, after my nap, I resumed the quest and while reading forum after forum after thread after whatever, the knowledge was bestowed upon me that I can INSTALL Windows 3.1 (My 1990s original OS) and run it through my Dosbox.

this is incredible.

The best part is that I can sort of manipulate the file structure from OSX, since it's all housed in there anyway. What would have taken FOREVER in a copy, paste command cycle just takes a second. And I can back everything up... like the entire OS. Shoot, I FUBARed it up the first time I tried to install SVGA drivers and just delete the whole folder from OSX and started over. It's GREAT!! I figured out how to make the sound drivers work and everything. I installed and ran SimTower and it WORKS!! Suffice to say that tomorrow at work will be consumed by this game.

so. excited.

Sorry about all the technobabble. I hope at least some of you out there will be able to get what I'm talking about.

I'm not, however, sorry for the Heroes 'ence.

What? You don't know what "ence" means? I'll blog about that later. The rest of this was too important to wait until morning.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009


Debt Wizard

How much salary do I need to support my student loan debt?

Based on student loan debt of $63,000.00* to be repaid over 10 years at 6.8 percent interest, my estimated monthly payment is $725.01.
To support repayment of the debt, I should earn at least:
$52.28 Hourly
$9,062.58 Monthly
$108,750.91 Annually

*sobs uncontrollably*

at least I know:

"If you die, your student loan obligation will be cancelled."

Handy information, really.... @#$%^!

*I'm erring on the side of over estimation, here (I think hope)

....but, still.

Time Vortex

I have been listening to the Battlestar Galactica Season Four soundtrack all day... and it has put me in a weird mood. It's all GLORIOUS and sort of sounds like what the Titanic soundtrack would sound like if it had a drumline in it. This is okay with me, really, because I have always liked the Titanic soundtrack, too (judge if you must).

So in my own personal time vortex, it feels like it's about 5:30 in the afternoon, but I keep looking at the clock, and it keeps saying 2:38pm. Ugh.

I have also been playing SimCity2000 all day. If any of you Mac people out there want to play old PC games (and have them run better than they ever did on your old PCs), just let me know. Dosbox will absolutely change your life. It's basically amazing.

Hm. Actually, today has pretty much kicked ass.

Here's a song and a picture for today:

Gaeta's Lament - BSG Season Four Soundtrack

Yeah, so what if my city is called Fusion Watermelon... kiss my ass.

**EDIT: I guess I should have specified that this day has been had at work. All of the game playing, Battlestar listening and the subsequent blog post are all from my desk at work. I'm not making that kind of money, but still... not too bad.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Thoughts on retail

I have worked in retail of some kind for pretty much the entirety of my "working" life. I guess it it sort of a stretch to call "courtesy clerk" at Albertson's a "retail" job, but it was still in a place that sells things, and was almost unheard of that my schedule didn't conflict with EVERYTHING, so that definitely fits the description at the most base level.

My employment history developed in such a way that I really feel that ever single job I have ever done has prepared me for the job I did after it. Let me just run this down so you have a point of reference:

    Courtesy Clerk (grocery sacker) at Albertson's

    Salesperson at Finishing Touch - This place was basically a Halmark on steroids; sold candles, cards, Beanie Babies, and Precious Moments and the like.

    Salesperson at JC Penney - I spent about 3 months in the Men's Department and then my friend Edana (Thank God for her) helped me get into Jewelry for the remaining 2 years I worked there.

    Salesperson at Gordon's Jewelers - This was a really fun job. Playing with diamonds all day and being around people in loooove... what more could you ask for? (And my co-workers were... well, I can say that they were probably no small part of why I loved this job)

    Teller at Bank of America - This was a pretty decent job, too (my supervisor drove me INSANE, though). I worked commercial most often, which was the highest volume, but I liked it because you basically just had to do your job and do it quickly. There were crazy times at Christmas and whatnot where there would be anywhere from 5 to 9 cars LINED UP.

From one job to the next, I handled more money and generally catered to a different and more specialized group of people (which, I personally feel, is all part of that God having it under control thing). The thing about customer service experience is that you will get better at it the longer you do it. The best part about having had these jobs (the jewelry jobs, in particular) is that I can basically walk into any job interview and say, "I sold commission jewelry for 5 years," and they say, "When do you want to start?"

I actually get a marginal amount of satisfaction working in retail, or at very least customer service. Like when I worked at Finishing Touch, if someone came in and was like "I need a gift for someone that loves giraffes," I love being able to help that person find exactly the right kind of present and wrap it all pretty so not only will the person receiving the gift be happy, but the person buying the gift is happy and excited to give the gift. Jewelry is the same way. When I can help someone find exactly what is right for them, especially after searching for a while, and then wrapping it up in the fancy box so when the person receiving the gift opens it will just be so pretty... it really is fun. It's really weird, but I get goosebumps when I feel like I've done a good job and the customer is happy. And good customer service goosebumps are always on the backs of my legs. I know, strange, and it's the same feeling if I'm helping a 5 year old pick out a present for their daddy for Father's day or if it's a nervous dude picking out an engagement ring or if it's a lady at Victoria's Secret that is looking for a particular perfume and I found the last bottle in the back room.

And thank GOD those little things happen every now and again, because retail is really hard work, and it's usually not a whole lot of fun. However, I can definitely say that even if the job is a pain in the ass, if you're working with people you like, it makes all the difference in the world. I know, I know... sometimes you inadvertently end up staying in the store counting diamonds until midnight because none of the cases will balance and the old ladies in the store can't put stuff back where it goes and I can't count higher than 3 with you talking to me because I can't concentrate and suddenly all I can think about is countertops and now exF is calling the store AGAIN...



Saturday, July 25, 2009

25 on the 25th

Well, here it is. My magic birthday. I'm a quarter of a century old. I think that doing a life evaluation post like a report card or something won't really be of any help, as it will likely just fall short of what I had thought I would be doing by this time in my life. Maybe not short, but different certainly.

I was talking to someone (I think it was Joel, probably around HIS birthday) about regrets over the course of your life and if you could go back to a certain time in your life, would you? We watched the first 2 seasons of Heroes over the past week, so time travel is in the forefront of my available thought processes. I can honestly say that I wouldn't go back to any other time in my life because no other time is as good as right now. Even though I don't know what I'm doing with my life and I don't have any money or whatever, at this juncture, what would I go back to? I mean, it's not as if any part of the already lived portion of my life is so much better than now, because it simply isn't. And if I went back, I would have to take that God awful theory class again, and I just don't think my psyche could handle that a third time. Twice was bad enough.

I sort of feel like I'm on my way to something... even though I don't know what it is. I usually have landmarks in my life that I'm headed toward; paychecks, vacations, big events or what have you, and I have this inkling that there is a big one on the other side of this slightly translucent curtain or something that I can kind of tell is there, but I can't tell what I'm looking at.

Anyhow, I guess I'm getting all metaphorical on my birthday. I think I'm going to go eat lunch and then I have to work today! How appropriate. I think we're going to go out this evening, so hopefully we'll take lots of pictures and I'll have something to tell you guys soon.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Not so nice

As tends to happen, I started to write a comment back to GingerMandy and it turned into a whole blog post.

When I was first dating the ex-fiancé, we had a conversation about how mean I was am and that I needed to change myself fix it.

    ex-f: When I tell people I'm dating you, they are always surprised. I never knew why until I saw the way you acted at {whatever function we were attending}. You turn into this mean, sarcastic person and that's unacceptable (He may or may not have said "unacceptable," but it was pretty close).

    me: Well... yeah. That's just how I am. I've always been like that.

    ex-f: No you're not. Not when it's just you and me. I've seen how you are when you're with your family or just with me, and that sarcastic, mean person isn't you (Read: It isn't what I want you to be).

    me: Oh.

    ex-f: I used to be like you (Did I mention that he was a bit holier than thou?), and what my {dad, minister, mother, coach (I don't remember)} told me to do was that before I said anything, I should think, "Could this possibly hurt anyone?" and if it would, or you're not sure, don't say it. Whatever it was. And you might miss out on some good comments or jabs, but it will be better in the long run.

So in the name of keeping a boyfriend, I did. Everything out of my mouth was moderated and filtered. And you know what? People liked me. It was astounding. That was the only year I was elected Band Sweetheart (That's nerdtalk for I was the popular-est that year) and that has never happened before or again. You know what else? I was totally miserable. I felt like a different person, but not in a "I'm changed! I love it!" sort of way. The following fall semester, I worked with a dear friend of mine in the band office and she fixed me. She was is smart, gorgeous and mean. I LOVED working with her because I could be myself!! I hadn't been able to voice all these nasty, horrible, mean, sarcastic, judgy and wonderful comments to anyone because I was too busy trying to not "hurt anybody."

So as I write this, I am wondering: was it better to be nice to everyone or be myself? I'm a mean and sarcastic person, and ... ha, well, I was going to say "it's usually all in fun," but that's a lie. I'm mean, and it's mean, and I am not messing around. But at the same time, is that really a way to be? I see where you're going with this, GingerSweetPie, I really do. I'm just warning you, being nice is really hard work. However, if you're willing to put in the work, it legitimately yields results. It also makes you nice. I'll still love you, MandyPants, but as a rule, nice people make me ill.

I guess that's my answer. I honestly just like mean, sarcastic people better than nice, smiley ones. Maybe it's because it's just easier to be mean, but I'd like to think it's because it takes a honed intelligence to be mean. Anyone can be nice. It takes a special kind of person to be mean and sarcastic, but still lovable. Don't take this the wrong way, but if we're friends, it's probably because you're mean. And lovable. So... kisses to you all!

Monday, July 20, 2009


When I was a little kid, my dad used to scare me. What am I saying.... he STILL scares me. If he's walking ahead of me and turns a corner before I get there, odds are pretty good that he's stopped and waiting for me to get there so he can say "AGGH!" and make me jump. Because I will. About 98% of the time I will jump and scream and then go, "You turd!!" and he just laughs because it is endlessly funny to him. This is a long-standing thing for Dad. Throughout our childhood, he has moved our stuffed animals and hidden in our beds at night, sat in the bottom of the dark closet, hidden behind the door to our room... Once, all of us came home and Dad's car was there, but we couldn't find him. We probably looked for 10 minutes, and when we finally found him, he was behind the lower rack of clothes in HIS closet. Good one, Dad. Another useful tidbit in this whole thing is that all of the eyesight in our family is baaaaad, which only aided his mischief. So not only was it usually dark when he was laying in wait, it was also usually time for bed, so we've all got our glasses off or contacts out or whatever and no one can see anything anyway.

This has been good practice, it seems, as I have been watching around corners and in closets and behind doors the whole time I've been in Albuquerque. Joel seems to get immense satisfaction from seeing me jump and then me telling him he's a jerk (hahaha). Like how I'm brushing my teeth last night, and when I turn the light off on the way out of the bathroom, every light in the apartment is off. So what do I do? Say, "Oh! Good grief... You jerk!" and turn the bathroom light back on. I didn't have to go very far before he said "AGGH!!" from his hiding place on the ground in the hallway just outside the door. Or this morning, on the way to the bedroom, I look in the office and there is a figure standing there that looks like a Death Eater.

Death Eater.

Ironically, this didn't scare me. It was morning though, and that possibly had something to do with it, but it did at least make me do a double take. He was disappointed in my reaction, and said he was going to take a shower. I sat reading for a good few minutes and wondered why the water hadn't started yet. When I walked past the office, HE was there instead... as in, wearing the coat (apparently, in the office and coming out of the bathroom are the most popular locales for this behavior). Again, for whatever reason, this didn't scare me, but I applauded the effort.

Clearly, one is more apt to make me jump and scream with less prep work. Just sitting watching TV for long enough without moving and then making a loud noise will get me, seriously, every time. What can I say? I'm an easy mark.

Still, my favorite time he tried to scare me was once over 4th of July weekend. I was walking past the office and caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I walked into the office and he is standing on the chair by the door, in a psycho-killer type position holding... a feather duster. We just look at each other and since I'm obviously not scared, and also I have no idea what he was going for with that approach, he just goes,

"Hmm... it appears I may have over-planned this..."

you may have...

Friday, July 17, 2009

8 hours... a REALLY long time to be in the car. But it is absolutely worth it.

That's Ashley, my Albuquerque roadtrip buddy. She was in the sun and it was too warm, so we put the sunshades over her.

I didn't want to turn around to take a picture of the rainbow, so I took a picture of it in the side mirror. Note the difference in the color of the sky in front of us versus the sky behind us. That was a rough patch we had just been through.

This was probably 1 or 2 hours from Albuquerque

I brought a bunch of my music and books so hopefully I make some headway on the papers and recitals and crap for next semester. Anywhozits, I'm gonna get out of this Hastings and go piddle around until Joel gets off work. Toodles!

p.s. I don't just mean worth it for the sunsets, mountains and rainbows.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Wordless Wednesday: 11:11


I'll be there soon

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


These stupid things always get me:


Leo: You want your friends to know your exact position on an important subject. Additionally, you would love their support and hope they understand your next move. And as clear as you are about your plans, you are tired of having to tell everyone what you're doing and wish they could just figure it out for themselves. It's not an all-or-nothing proposition; keep your options open and readjust the intensity with which you communicate as needed.

    (Yeah, Kelly? Uugh.)


Leo: You look out toward your future and see so many possibilities today that you don't know which path is yours to follow. But this isn't quite the same as feeling stuck; you're not. You are trying to hold on to a wait-and-see position because you don't want to make a false start now. Taking your time is a good idea, but don't wait so long that you do nothing at all and lose the current opportunities.

    F me.

Should have been you first

Holy Crap. My friends Charmaine and Dalton got married 2 years ago today (Congrats, guys!!). In my perusal of the Blogs of MySpace Past, I read this entry from way back then. I feel like I've grown since then, but it's interesting to remember those old times.

- - Even though it's a long one, you might should read this post from a while back so that this makes more sense. - -

    Saturday, July 14, 2007

    "It should have been you first!"

    Current mood: discontent

    This is what Charmaine's mother said to me twice today at the wedding. Twice. She looked around, indicating the wedded bliss around us, and told me that it should have been me first. I guess in her world that's not considered a horrific thing to say to someone who was engaged...... and then wasn't. The wedding was beautiful. It was simply superb to attend and to participate in something so absolutely stunning. It was very good for me to see something as wonderful as the marriage of two completely made-for-eachother people. It restores the faith in good things and helps foster the knowledge that there are good men left in the world. I mean actual good men. Men that will put forth the effort to sweep a woman off her feet and make her feel like a princess. Although, at this point, I would be glad to just see a man that won't lie to my face. I will never understand how a person can be so completely different than who I thought they were. But I digress... There are lots of girls want to get married. After seeing today, the getting married part could be fun. That's not really what I'm interested in anymore. I used to be, many moons ago. The white dress, the cake all of that. Nowadays, I really just want to be married. To wake up next to someone that is on your side 100% of the time. Someone that you can have every bit as much fun sitting around not doing anything as you do when you're out on the town. I see these photos of my friends that have found their person and their happiness is visible. I just want to be able to be a team with someone who will actively participate in the relationship in general. Clearly, this man for me is not here. This is ok. I am leaving this city. And not with a goal of finding someone, but instead with a very strict list of things that I will no longer tolerate in someone that I spend time with. I wasted a ton of time trying to be something other than just myself, and that was a hard habit to break, but it's better to be honest about who you are than to try to keep up a façade. No sooner than I learn this lesson, I allow someone else to absolutely walk all over the real and honest me and I, stupidly, still believed in the good that I thought I saw in them. I have now turned naïve and gullible into an art form.

    Basically, I'm tired of playing all the games. I give. Uncle. Whatever. I don't care that it wasn't me first.

    I just want to meet my husband.

Yessss, emo girl. Everybody heave a big ol' *SIGH* now.


Though, confession: I have been planning to post this for a while because I thought it would be entertaining, but I've been feeling all emo today, so it's kind of apropos. Maybe I'm hormonal or something retarded like that, but I feel psychotic and crazy and it's probably nothing but every little retarded thing is just making me go all batty and I hate it and I wish it would stop and it's making me stay up all night and toss and turn and the more I think about everything the more I really hate it. Anyway, I have to be at work in 4 hours. True to form, here's a song:

Invisible - Taylor Swift

(This is excessively emo. I realize this. I just feel all affected and sad and stupid shit. I'll look back later and either cry A LOT or laugh at my idiocy. Just the usual. This is almost as bad as the Bonnie Rait episode. This kinda sucks)

Monday, July 13, 2009

Bloggers I admire

Last year, I got into this blogness just because everyone else did (I think everyone has a post like that one. Haha). It has taken several months, but I feel like I am finally starting to have, well, not necessarily something to say, but definitely a voice to say it. I really admire the people that when I read an entry of theirs, I can immediately tell who I'm reading. When I read my older entries, I can sense my imitation of other bloggers in an effort to figure out my place in this blog-o-whatever and decide how to say what I wanted to say. To an extent, I still do, but that's true of me even when I just hang out with people. If I am with them enough, my speech patterns and gestures and whatnot start to emulate whoever I hang out with. Like sometimes, the way I phrase stuff just comes out differently after I've been reading The Bloggess because the way she writes is so distinctive.

In any case, I wanted to write a little tribute to the bloggers that really have helped shape the way I write on this thing and have helped me navigate the blog-o-whatever.

The incomparable Bloggess
This lady is incredible. She is absolutely laugh-out-loud funny and as I've said, her distinctive writing style is a riot to read. She posts to several different sources, and they are all must-reads. I'm thinking there are very few people that can claim to have a mommyblog and a sex column (that people actually read, that is) and be insightful and sublimely entertaining on both fronts and all the social media in between. Also, she's from Texas, y'all. And makes fun of jew cats. She's a damn genius.

The loverly LiLu
You can thank this Masshole for her "ever popular, yet gravely feared" TMI Thursdays. I, personally, adore the Shiz My Boyfriend Says chronicles because nothing beats smart and funny people being in love with each other and saying funny shiz and then blogging about it (see also: Bloggess). LiLu also has the exceptional ability to personally connect with each commenter/follower/blogger that passes through her blog. Or even links to her, really. Her faithful followup with everyone is awesome and she does it in a way that just makes you feel good. Of course, I'm slightly biased, because in an infrequent bout of internet idiocy, she totally came to my aid (hehe, that's gotta be what she said).

The darling Meg Fee
I feel a bit of a connection to this lady because of her background in the arts and her aspirations to perform. Being a gal in New York seems so glamorous, and it is sometimes. She conveys the glamorous times so well, but what I love about Meg is the way she talks about the every day. She writes about her battles with herself with every bit of the eloquence that she employs when extolling the virtues of love and talking about her so cute family. My original note about her blog was: "Lovely writing, excellent book choices, so romantic and heartbreaking and hopeful and gorgeous and inspirational." That's pretty much right.

The amazingly sassy Ginger Mandy
This is a gal with some great stories about butter and buttholes, great advice about peeing standing up (I know I link to that about every other day, but dang. I don't think one can GET a better tutorial on the subject) and how to get your intake of Fiber up, and will probably help you learn how to get great gas mileage if you asked her (because she has wicked sweet knowledge like that). Anyginger, her honest and straightforward writing is an unabashed account of her opinions and experiences, and it's entertaining on top of that! What more can any blogger aspire to achieve? Nothing, friends, I assure you. Success, Gingerlady. Great success.

I just got a little choked up thinking about you guys (ok, maybe not quite), but I do love reading what you have to say to the blog-o-whatever and look forward to it daily. You ladies are bloggers to look up to, and my own blog thanks you from the bottom of its little heart.

Well, I mean, I do, too... ♥

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Even nicer

It's really nice to be able to say "I love you".
It's even nicer to be able to say "I love you, too".

via Sween

Thursday, July 9, 2009

TMI: Or possibly Not Enough Information... (NEI)

As per last week, this is not quite typical of a TMI, even though it does have some sex in it (Woo hoo!) and it IS embarrassing. Even so, that geriatric boobie grabbing gets me every time!

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, "how many readers can I estrange THIS week??" TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else's!***

TMI Thursday

Against my better judgement, I'm going to embarrass myself. Usually, if I have the option to embarrass myself, or NOT, I choose not. But I'll throw myself on the sword this TMIT and tell everyone about my sexual naïvety as a young, but not so young, person.

We learned last week that I was one prude somebody for the majority of my life. Still am, really (in case you're freaking out, Dad), but there was a level that even I look at now and think, "What was wrong with me?"

Example: For a while in early high school, I had this totally absurd relationship "rule", if you will, that there was no kissing for, I think it was a month, or something equally ridiculous. I'm a little foggy because it didn't really stick around, but to clarify: From the time we started being BF-GF ("Will you go out with me?" Lawl), there was "supposed" to be a MONTH that passed before we kissed. I think I even lost one BECAUSE of that. Not that I blame him. I was a gal that stuck to her guns.

Anyprude*, I'm here to address my sexual idiocy, not my general idiocy. When I was in late elementary school, the schools did "Hot Topics" in Health class where they talked about girls getting their period and boys becoming men (Whatever that entails specifically. They split us up...) and you had to have your parents sign a permission form so you could even HEAR this really special, ultra-secret, grownup information. I had this week-long event every year for 3 years. So it begs the question:

How in the world did I have no idea what "the sex" really was?

Y'all, I'm not kidding. I knew it had to do with kissing, and it was in a bed and I was pretty sure it had to do with the parts that a bikini covered becoming UNcovered (I had gathered this much from movies, I guess), but that was as far as I got. I don't know where I came up with this, but I really, honestly and actually, I'm-not-making-this-up thought that these were the steps to having a baby:

  1. Get married. (Because people that aren't married don't have babies. Duh.)

  2. Make an appointment with God. (Still not making this up, people)

  3. Have baby. (There! That was easy!)

I can't remember exactly when the whole P-in-the-V connection was made, but I vividly recall thinking, "What? No way. In? Like... IN in??" and being somewhat horrified. I'm sure it didn't exactly help that the diagrams I had been seeing for the past "Hot Topics" sessions looked like this:


I just have to think that surely... SURELY someone at some point had explained that the P goes IN the V, but I either was asleep or wondering what that scrotesticlepenis was or who even knows, and I didn't get the memo. I really think that even when they said it, I looked up at that flaccid line drawing and just dismissed the statement as unimportant.

3 years.

3 different "Hot Topics" presentations.

HOW did I not know?! So tragic.

*That's for you, Sassyginger!!

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Wordless Wednesday: If at first you don't succeed...



Tuesday, July 7, 2009

*zzzzz* WHAT!? Ok, ok... I'm awake, it's cool.


So, I'm back! Yay! But I'm WHOA tired, so this will be short (hopefully, that isn't at all what he said) and sweet. Well, it will be short, anyway. I'll post a little more about my funfunfun 4th when I get to my camera (I think it's in my suitcase at home) and see if any of my pictures turned out. For now, I only have a the pictures from Joel's camera which, since we didn't take it to the top of the mountain, doesn't have any firework pictures on it.

What's that? Oh yeah. We totally watched fireworks from the top of a mountain. You guys = so jealous.

The gal that drove (her amazing Scion got such good gas mileage that my half wasn't even $50) had to be at work this morning at 6am (yikes), so we left last night from Albuquerque at about 9pm. Yes, in case you're counting, that gave us just about exactly enough time to get back as long as we didn't stop for very long. She dropped me off this morning at my apartment 10 minutes before she was supposed to be at work. I slept for 3 hours, went to a voice lesson (which was AWESOME) and I'm at work work now. I want to make a tasty casserole for dinner, but I'm very sleepy. It will all just depend on my laziness when I get finished with work.

I will definitely tell you all about of this later:

  • Hallucinations on the road home

  • KAH-razy dudes at the Love's just outside of Amarillo

  • Mountaintop fireworks (with pictures!)


  • whatever else I think of when I'm not so damn sleepy

Aren't you just dying to know?! I know I am. (Hmm...) Before I go, here's a couple of pictures! Yay!

This place is like a postcard, y'all

Good weekend. :)

Until next time!

Thursday, July 2, 2009

TMI: Kissing and Your Number

This is a different sort of TMI, but because I think the old lady boob grab picture is awesomesauce:

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, "how many readers can I estrange THIS week??" TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else's!***

TMI Thursday

hehe... ok anywho... (Again, this is not your typical TMI; fair warning for you guys looking to read about how girls pee standing or poops that destroy industrial toilets, you ought to read those lovely ladies' blogs :) )

So I had been dating this certain boy for a little while, maybe a couple months, maybe not even that long. As newish couples often do, we were talking about past relationships and whatnot and he cheerfully asked me, "How many people have you kissed?"

"Um..." (I'm thinking, naïvely counting)

He's looking less cheerful now. "You don't know?"

I jokingly ask, "Should I count shows?" (I've been in several, and kissed a few boys by way of the stage)

"Yes. You still kissed them."

"Oh. Ok, uhh..." (Still counting. Sheesh. I wasn't expecting The Spanish Inquisition)

I finally gave him what I considered an accurate number. He gave me a giant poutfest. His number was like, 3 (counting me! Ack.) and mine was... somewhat higher...

Let's just say that throughout the relationship, my "number" as it were kept resurfacing in the most annoying ways. Usually just to remind me how sullied my past was (*gasp!* KISSING!?) since his was so sparkly clean (read: it wasn't).

NO GOOD comes of knowing the numbers of things like that. How many people you have done whatever with can just stay between you, yourself and potentially your girlfriends. The dude in your life just does not need to know. It doesn't matter if these numbers are low or high or whatever. It's just TMI for them. End of story. (See what I did there?)

Yeah, yeah, I know. There wasn't poop or boobies or weird sex related stories in my TMI, but honestly, the old lady boob grab is about as exciting and entertaining in that realm as I get. Maybe someday I'll have a really good/gross story to regale all you fine readers. And regale I shall, but only in due time. Besides, this is my very first TMI ever. Even if I did have some really juicy ones, I wouldn't lead with them. Gotta leave somewhere to go!


Ok, confession: I have read this entry about fourteen times and I still can't decide if it's even what I want to say. This is actually the first time I feel this way about an entry of mine. Since the logical thing to do would be to take it down due to the relative uncertainty I feel about it, I'm going to leave it up. So there! Suck it, blog-o-whatever! I will post all the uncertainty I want! BOOYAH!!


Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The cutest thing!!

OK, so I'm driving home on a pretty busy street (think 3 lanes either way) and I get to a cross street that has a stoplight and there's some commotion. As in, the traffic isn't moving, but there are a bunch of bikers in the middle of the road. I'm going one direction and in the median next to me is a motorcycle and standing in the street with his arms up stopping traffic is a big ol' biker dude. As I'm trying to figure out what that guy is doing, I see two other biker folks actually crossing the street. What are they doing?



Yep. Several good Samaritan bikers stopped traffic to help a momma duck and her 7 (from what I can count) baby duckies cross the busy street.

cutest. ever.

Sorry the picture quality stinks; it was my cell phone camera.

Song for today

And so over the great blue oceans
And then over the cities filled with light,
I know we'll be together tomorrow
Oh, but I'll dream of you tonight.

I'll Dream of You Tonight - Hem