Since I can use my own computer now, I am going to be in my room a lot more so I decided I should finally clean it. I must explain that I never really put anything away from my apartment because then I would have to actually admit to living at home. So basically all my crap is on my floor and it's a messy messy death trap up here. I have been slowly cleaning and sadly, moving in.
I have my double bed from school here and there was a lot of crap accumulated in there since I only sleep on half of it and apparently have been using the other half for storage. Here is what I found so far:
4 magazines
4 books (including the humongus newest Harry Potter)
2 CDs
2 sweaters
1 blazer
1 t-shirt (My pink Bermuda shirt that my mother said she'd throw away if she ever saw again. I think I meant for that to be in there.)
1 stolen pad of paper from the place I interned at
1 3rd grade jazz costume (I was going to wear it for Halloween but there were severe crotch issues with it)
956 socks
I can't believe I am admitting to this behavior over the interweb, but man that fucking bed was a mess. It's weird because I am anal-y neat about most things except for this one room.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
I am a happy girl.
Hello, my name is Joanne and I no longer use dial-up.
Things are much shinier and faster over on the 2005 side of technology.
Yay to my Mom for the awesome Christmas present of DSL.
Things are much shinier and faster over on the 2005 side of technology.
Yay to my Mom for the awesome Christmas present of DSL.
Monday, December 26, 2005
A Merry Holiday Tale.
Every year on Christmas we go to my Aunt and Uncle's house in Lancaster. This year was no different so we went over there yesterday for dinner and a present exchange. This year was spectacularly awesome because Domenica hand picked out my awesome present of pink shoes (That makes 2 pairs now) that completely kick ass.
However, this year also had its dark moment. My aunt does this German tradition of "hiding the pickle." (Suprisingly, no porn results like I thought I'd get for googling that.) Basically, it's an ornament shaped like a pickle and she hides it on the tree than all the "kids" get to find it one by one. When you find it, you get to hide it for the next group and you also get a pickle prize.
I completely suck at finding the pickle. I have no luck at all, every year I am last and usually someone has to tell me where it is. This year I was also last. However, this year I was beaten by a four year old and it was even more embarrassing. Then I couldn't find where Gabby hid the stupid pickle, she stumped me. In my defense, I would like to note that the green pickle is hid within a green tree...
It's especially delightful because everyone who isn't playing and who has already won watches you and makes comments about how much you suck. My personal favorite was my Uncle Joe with this gem: "No wonder you can't find a job, you can't even find an ornament on the tree." Then as we were leaving my dad kept asking me to find my sister which confused me because she was sitting next to him, but as everyone else except me and Domenica got, he was just making fun of me.
Oh, memories.
However, this year also had its dark moment. My aunt does this German tradition of "hiding the pickle." (Suprisingly, no porn results like I thought I'd get for googling that.) Basically, it's an ornament shaped like a pickle and she hides it on the tree than all the "kids" get to find it one by one. When you find it, you get to hide it for the next group and you also get a pickle prize.
I completely suck at finding the pickle. I have no luck at all, every year I am last and usually someone has to tell me where it is. This year I was also last. However, this year I was beaten by a four year old and it was even more embarrassing. Then I couldn't find where Gabby hid the stupid pickle, she stumped me. In my defense, I would like to note that the green pickle is hid within a green tree...
It's especially delightful because everyone who isn't playing and who has already won watches you and makes comments about how much you suck. My personal favorite was my Uncle Joe with this gem: "No wonder you can't find a job, you can't even find an ornament on the tree." Then as we were leaving my dad kept asking me to find my sister which confused me because she was sitting next to him, but as everyone else except me and Domenica got, he was just making fun of me.
Oh, memories.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Gold Star.
I read this following bit at Pamie.com which got it from here and I thought it was interesting.
I think it's really great that a school especially a parochial or private (whichever it is) school would turn down the money and say no to censorship.
Look at me using the fancy quote feature!!
When St. Andrew's Episcopal School in Austin, Tex., was faced with an ultimatum—pull Annie Proulx's short story "Brokeback Mountain" from its reading list or lose a $3-million donation to its building fund—school officials chose to give up the money. That decision is reverberating far beyond Austin. Writers from around the country have been so inspired by the school's actions that they've formed a group of young adult authors called AS IF! (Authors SupportingThe man who withdrew his $3 million opposed "discussion on pornographic material concerning deviant behavior."
Intellectual Freedom).
I think it's really great that a school especially a parochial or private (whichever it is) school would turn down the money and say no to censorship.
Look at me using the fancy quote feature!!
Friday, December 23, 2005
I'm losing my mind.
I totally had something I wanted to say on here then my mom made me go upstairs to find this Tupperware container she wanted and it took like 16 hours because she told me she wanted "the plastic one with the round lid" which is like 98% of the containers she has. So I kept finding one and bringing it to her and she'd tell me no and add more helpful hints like "it's taller than that" but then of course the next one would be too tall. I finally found what she wanted. It was in the refrigerator already filled with tartar sauce... I had to do it because she is doing her Feast of the Seven Fishes preparation and I would like to be able to eat it. Plus she's my mom and she gave birth to me and that always wins every argument no matter what.
But yeah, so I forgot what I was going to say, but then I just posted this instead because I'm awesome like an 86 year old woman like that.
But yeah, so I forgot what I was going to say, but then I just posted this instead because I'm awesome like an 86 year old woman like that.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Oh, Christmas Tree.
My dad told me the other day that when I was little, about 2 or 3 or 4ish (How old are kids when they start to walk? 9?) I used to like to pull the Christmas tree down. I'd just yank on the bottom branches till it toppled over and then giggle or dance or something.
My dad solved the problem by tying the tree to the curtain rod and then I would just pull and pull until I got bored.
This is one of the many reasons why I was the "bad" child.
My dad solved the problem by tying the tree to the curtain rod and then I would just pull and pull until I got bored.
This is one of the many reasons why I was the "bad" child.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Kennett Square News Update
I find this interesting. From the Philadelphia Inquirer:
Rich Rowe found a wallet along Route 1 near Longwood Gardens on Friday. Fancy, tan Prada job. Opened it up: Credit cards. New York driver's license for Susan Weaver. Gold's Gym membership card in Weaver's stage name, Sigourney.
Ah. Sigourney Weaver's wallet.
"I didn't know what to do," says Rowe, 23, a maintenance mechanic for Phillips Mushroom Farms. "I wanted to get ahold of her somehow."
Rowe says he tried calling credit-card companies but could not reach a live human. He called Gold's Gym, but wasn't too keen on mailing the wallet to persons unknown in New York.
He thought that the actress was in Kennett Square for a reason and that a friend of hers might be listening to Paul Barsky's show on WYSP-FM (94.1). So the word went out, and lo and behold, a friend was listening. Weaver's husband and publicist then got involved.
Rowe brought the wallet to the station on Independence Mall, and Barsky producer Michael Cerio rewarded Rowe with tickets to Friday night's Disturbed concert at the Electric Factory. He also got to meet the band.
Cerio asked for a call-in from Weaver, and she did so yesterday. But the question remained: How did her wallet end up beside the road, 130 miles from home?
Aliens?
Something simpler, she said. She was visiting friends - remember that she was here in '04 to shoot M. Night Shyamalan's The Village - and stopped to shop for boots at Wal-Mart. "I must have put it on top of the car," she said. "I knew it wasn't stolen" because the cards had not been used, adding: "The Christmas spirit lives."
Besides the fact that Sigourney Weaver bought boots at Wal-Mart in Kennett Square (I told you all it was the coolest place we had), that Barsky ass still has a morning show and people listen to it!
Rich Rowe found a wallet along Route 1 near Longwood Gardens on Friday. Fancy, tan Prada job. Opened it up: Credit cards. New York driver's license for Susan Weaver. Gold's Gym membership card in Weaver's stage name, Sigourney.
Ah. Sigourney Weaver's wallet.
"I didn't know what to do," says Rowe, 23, a maintenance mechanic for Phillips Mushroom Farms. "I wanted to get ahold of her somehow."
Rowe says he tried calling credit-card companies but could not reach a live human. He called Gold's Gym, but wasn't too keen on mailing the wallet to persons unknown in New York.
He thought that the actress was in Kennett Square for a reason and that a friend of hers might be listening to Paul Barsky's show on WYSP-FM (94.1). So the word went out, and lo and behold, a friend was listening. Weaver's husband and publicist then got involved.
Rowe brought the wallet to the station on Independence Mall, and Barsky producer Michael Cerio rewarded Rowe with tickets to Friday night's Disturbed concert at the Electric Factory. He also got to meet the band.
Cerio asked for a call-in from Weaver, and she did so yesterday. But the question remained: How did her wallet end up beside the road, 130 miles from home?
Aliens?
Something simpler, she said. She was visiting friends - remember that she was here in '04 to shoot M. Night Shyamalan's The Village - and stopped to shop for boots at Wal-Mart. "I must have put it on top of the car," she said. "I knew it wasn't stolen" because the cards had not been used, adding: "The Christmas spirit lives."
Besides the fact that Sigourney Weaver bought boots at Wal-Mart in Kennett Square (I told you all it was the coolest place we had), that Barsky ass still has a morning show and people listen to it!
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Bada bing.
I watched Closer yesterday. Jude Law has really weird ears. I know he is supposed to be super hot and sexy and all, but he does nothing for me. Even before I noticed the ears, I never saw the appeal.
The world's greatest song may be "Too Close" by Next. It's a whole song about boners! What's not to love? It makes me laugh. It's a song I would write if I got drunk and tried to write a song. "I wonder if she could tell I'm hard right now..."
I do not now nor do I ever want to go to law school. If anyone brings it up again, I will cut them regardless if they are my grandfather or a stranger. I still also have no desire to sell Pepsi products so we can stop mentioning that one as well.
I really like Nutri-Grain bars. I could eat the blueberry ones all day. But does one Nutri-Grain bar actually satisfy anyone's hunger? How can people eat just that for breakfast? I would prefer to not eat anything over one Nutri-Grain bar.
I really need a job because I thought today was Monday. I also had no idea it was the 20th already, I thought it was the 15th or 16th. I am a loser.
The world's greatest song may be "Too Close" by Next. It's a whole song about boners! What's not to love? It makes me laugh. It's a song I would write if I got drunk and tried to write a song. "I wonder if she could tell I'm hard right now..."
I do not now nor do I ever want to go to law school. If anyone brings it up again, I will cut them regardless if they are my grandfather or a stranger. I still also have no desire to sell Pepsi products so we can stop mentioning that one as well.
I really like Nutri-Grain bars. I could eat the blueberry ones all day. But does one Nutri-Grain bar actually satisfy anyone's hunger? How can people eat just that for breakfast? I would prefer to not eat anything over one Nutri-Grain bar.
I really need a job because I thought today was Monday. I also had no idea it was the 20th already, I thought it was the 15th or 16th. I am a loser.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The coldest winter in almost fourteen years.
I love how everytime winter comes people forget what cold was like and walk around saying stuff like, "Fucking hell, I've never been so cold!" and "This December is much colder than last year." And by people I mean me and by say I mean shiver out through chattering teeth.
That's my Flash catching snowflakes on her tongue. She really liked to eat snow. When we would shovel the driveway, she would help by eating it. Aww, I miss her.
Could anybody tell that I have been deleting old files and pictures off my computer and found a bunch of stuff I forgot about? I posted a lot of pictures lately.
That's my Flash catching snowflakes on her tongue. She really liked to eat snow. When we would shovel the driveway, she would help by eating it. Aww, I miss her.
Could anybody tell that I have been deleting old files and pictures off my computer and found a bunch of stuff I forgot about? I posted a lot of pictures lately.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
It's me, Mario!
I am not in a Christmas-y mood at all this year and it depresses me and makes me even less Christmas-y than I already was and more miserable. Ugh, I usually love Christmas! It makes me so nerdily happy! But this year, I'm all Grinchy. I have no money so I can't buy people the cool gifts they deserve. My overused joke is that everyone is getting donations to the "Joanne needs a beer, motherfuckers" fund. It can't even be good beer! It will be PBR or Milwaukee's Best or something gross and watered down.
I'm stopping there. I hate when I get all diary-ish on this thing. That's not my intent with this. Here let's look at this crappy picture of me and the love of my life to cheer us all up.
I found this on my computer and thought it was funny. This statue is in Center City by the City Hall Wendy's and I drunkenly made Ram take a picture of me with it once because I heart Mario. I think it was in 2003. I kind of look Asian in this picture, I think I was laughing or maybe I just was Asian that day.
I'm stopping there. I hate when I get all diary-ish on this thing. That's not my intent with this. Here let's look at this crappy picture of me and the love of my life to cheer us all up.
I found this on my computer and thought it was funny. This statue is in Center City by the City Hall Wendy's and I drunkenly made Ram take a picture of me with it once because I heart Mario. I think it was in 2003. I kind of look Asian in this picture, I think I was laughing or maybe I just was Asian that day.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
My neighbors are weird, Part 2.
Someone actually bought that sign and posted it on their mailbox... I don't really know what to say about it except that everytime I see a dead squirrel, I am tempted to pick it up and throw it on their driveway. Good thing dead squirrels are dirty and gross and thus I would never touch one.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
I still suck at this.
Today is my one year anniversary of blogging. Who thought I would actually do this that long? I didn't. I never stick with anything. Well, except whining and complaining, but I'm adorable when I do those. Thanks to everyone who has read this and put up with me especially the people who came here seeking porn and my 5 dedicated readers.
It's somewhat funny that when I made this blog I always intended to give it a real name and I just wrote "i don't know, i'll think of something later" to fill in the box. One year later and I still haven't used my brain and named it. I'm going with it though, it's grown on me and I now declare that it's the official name.
So, I christen ye "i don't know, i'll think of something later." I'm going to smack a 40 on my computer tower to officially christen the site, but that will probably take me a year to do also.
It's somewhat funny that when I made this blog I always intended to give it a real name and I just wrote "i don't know, i'll think of something later" to fill in the box. One year later and I still haven't used my brain and named it. I'm going with it though, it's grown on me and I now declare that it's the official name.
So, I christen ye "i don't know, i'll think of something later." I'm going to smack a 40 on my computer tower to officially christen the site, but that will probably take me a year to do also.
Friday, December 09, 2005
Bitch will stab you.
I went Christmas shopping with Domenica today and learned about such interesting things as how to build a bear and that athletic apparel is quite expensive.
But by far the most important thing I learned is that Taco Bell should not give Domenica sauce on her fucking quesadilla. Girl will get mad and then yell at anyone in sight for it. If she gets quesadilla sauce (which by the way tastes like a sneaker dipped in spices) it will be your fault and then she will yell about the sauce for the entire meal and criticize the way you eat a taco just to make your meal as bad as hers.
Please, Taco Bell, next time she specifies no sauce give her no sauce.
PS. Please see Sara's post in reference to Fiona Apple and add a couple fucks and a part about her speech on bullshit that confused drunken me plus some more praising of her and how good it was and that it was a fun time and you'd get what I would have said.
But by far the most important thing I learned is that Taco Bell should not give Domenica sauce on her fucking quesadilla. Girl will get mad and then yell at anyone in sight for it. If she gets quesadilla sauce (which by the way tastes like a sneaker dipped in spices) it will be your fault and then she will yell about the sauce for the entire meal and criticize the way you eat a taco just to make your meal as bad as hers.
Please, Taco Bell, next time she specifies no sauce give her no sauce.
PS. Please see Sara's post in reference to Fiona Apple and add a couple fucks and a part about her speech on bullshit that confused drunken me plus some more praising of her and how good it was and that it was a fun time and you'd get what I would have said.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
My neighbors are weird, Part 1.
Who buys such ridiculous fucking things? My neighbors confuse me to no end. These are people who wait for you, flag you down off the street and ask if you have seen anyone drive an inch or two on their precious lawn, but then they proudly display creepy tree accessories.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Snow!
It's snowing! I like snow. It is all pretty and fluffy and white. You know until it gets all dirty and black and slushy. When I was little I had a kick ass yellow snow suit with a bubble gum machine on it from London Fog. Hmm, I wonder if I have some weird past psychoanalysis thing with that coat and that's why I hate gum. Maybe it wasn't kick ass!
I still like snow. I just don't really like the cold part of it. I never really owned sweaters until I got to college because I always had a winter uniform sweater made of super polyester, wool and metal fragments that itched like hell and made me hate sweaters. Plus don't even get me started on the fucking turtlenecks we had to wear under that did nothing to stop the itching and made my head feel like it was going to fall off at any second. I don't even really own real sweaters now. I buy really cheap thin ones at Target because I can't stand the bulky sweater and they aren't that effective so I usually just end up fucking it and wearing a t-shirt. I just really hate feeling itchy. God bless cotton.
Just another way Catholic school has somehow broken me.
I still like snow. I just don't really like the cold part of it. I never really owned sweaters until I got to college because I always had a winter uniform sweater made of super polyester, wool and metal fragments that itched like hell and made me hate sweaters. Plus don't even get me started on the fucking turtlenecks we had to wear under that did nothing to stop the itching and made my head feel like it was going to fall off at any second. I don't even really own real sweaters now. I buy really cheap thin ones at Target because I can't stand the bulky sweater and they aren't that effective so I usually just end up fucking it and wearing a t-shirt. I just really hate feeling itchy. God bless cotton.
Just another way Catholic school has somehow broken me.
Friday, December 02, 2005
My new cover letter.
Dear Hiring Manager,
I am applying for the XXX position that was on XXX as of XXX. I recently graduated from [University I Attended] and I really need a job. As you may know, money and health insurance do not grow on trees.
My past job experiences includes internships and jobs that are on my resume which is attached to this letter. If you want to know what I did and what my GPA was look at that. If that is too complex for you, I don't want to work for you anyway because you are an idiot.
I don't like idiots. I don't work well with them. However, I normally get along with most people. I don't talk too much at first, but give me a bit of time and you will find I am quite enjoyable and funny. I enjoy jokes about inappropriate subjects and am excellent at making awkward comments.
Some things I have achieved that are not on my resume include having read Books 1 through 100 in the Babysitters' Club series as well as Super Specials 1 to 10, dancing a top a bar and being offered a dollar, vomiting in a bathtub and being able to check my own oil.
I really like the colors pink and green. I also like to write and watch television. I can operate Microsoft Word like a motherfucker and will gladly show you how to make columns without rolling my eyes too much. I think Harry Potter and using proper grammar and punctuation is sexy. I don't know any other languages besides English, but I could probably manage a sentence or two in Pig Latin or in Whining.
Your company seems interesting mostly because you are hiring and will pay me. I promise that I'll do a really good job at whatever it is you want. I work hard and I drink heavily and it would be really great to include your company in the working part. Thank you for your time in reading this letter. Which by the way, I spent time writing so could you not be an asshole and actually respond. Good or bad news doesn't matter, just be a kind, courteous human and respond especially if we have an interview.
Sincerely,
Joanne
I am applying for the XXX position that was on XXX as of XXX. I recently graduated from [University I Attended] and I really need a job. As you may know, money and health insurance do not grow on trees.
My past job experiences includes internships and jobs that are on my resume which is attached to this letter. If you want to know what I did and what my GPA was look at that. If that is too complex for you, I don't want to work for you anyway because you are an idiot.
I don't like idiots. I don't work well with them. However, I normally get along with most people. I don't talk too much at first, but give me a bit of time and you will find I am quite enjoyable and funny. I enjoy jokes about inappropriate subjects and am excellent at making awkward comments.
Some things I have achieved that are not on my resume include having read Books 1 through 100 in the Babysitters' Club series as well as Super Specials 1 to 10, dancing a top a bar and being offered a dollar, vomiting in a bathtub and being able to check my own oil.
I really like the colors pink and green. I also like to write and watch television. I can operate Microsoft Word like a motherfucker and will gladly show you how to make columns without rolling my eyes too much. I think Harry Potter and using proper grammar and punctuation is sexy. I don't know any other languages besides English, but I could probably manage a sentence or two in Pig Latin or in Whining.
Your company seems interesting mostly because you are hiring and will pay me. I promise that I'll do a really good job at whatever it is you want. I work hard and I drink heavily and it would be really great to include your company in the working part. Thank you for your time in reading this letter. Which by the way, I spent time writing so could you not be an asshole and actually respond. Good or bad news doesn't matter, just be a kind, courteous human and respond especially if we have an interview.
Sincerely,
Joanne
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Another random story from my past.
Argh, mateys! Time to settle in after ye harsh travels across thee bastard sea for a tale mighty and true. Or just a kind of funny and nerdy tale. Like me!
So, a long long time ago (from 1999 to 2003 according to my old resume) I used to work at [Place I Used to Work At.] Basically, I was a cafeteria lady with a baseball cap instead of a hair net. It was a pretty horrible job at times, mostly because I worked my ass of and got little pay and no respect and/or recognition for my hard work. Plus I was the only one in the cafeteria who spoke English so also at times it was pretty lonely. After some close diagnosis, I believe that every low self esteem thought I have in regards to myself stems from my tenure there. But anyway, here is my somewhat famed (in Delaware, at least) story of one day at work there. Please keep in mind that in 4 years, this is probably the most interesting thing that ever happened to me there. Also, keep in mind that this tale is told awesomely in person and I hope it translates well here.
Alright, I am 16 or 17 and working in the Hot Foods section one night by myself and I was really bored. There weren't a lot of customers and it was kind of hot and I was hungry and generally cranky. Some customers approached me, neglecting the huge sign in front of their faces and the sample plates displayed prominently, and asked me what the entrees were for dinner. As I went over the 3 choices, I remember thinking that I could really give 2 fucks about serving these people food and I was having trouble completing my sentences. I thought it was just the boredom, but I began to see spots and then the general noise in the cafeteria got really wonky and freaky. I slowly backed away from the people, ignoring their orders and went to leave.
The next thing I remember is being outside the cafeteria on the dock out back laying on the cement with the kitchen staff surrounding me. Our work uniform required us to wear black pants, shoes and socks which I always did, except this day. I wake up with my feet above my head on a fruit box and my bright fucking white socks staring at me. Of all the things, about this day. I'll always remember the socks the most. Obviously, I was really confused about what was going on, but also really embarrassed about the socks. It was explained to me that I had passed out, but luckily one of the chefs, Omar, had been walking by and caught me before I hit the floor. (Thank god! That shit was dirrrty.)
I thanked Omar and tried to go back to work but no one would let me get up. They had called the security guards to come help me and I had to wait. Someone on the kitchen staff picked me up and put me in a roll-y office chair and made me wait out on the dock like an asshole with everyone staring at me while the guy came. I was super freaked out because I thought somehow I was dying and I started to hyperventilate a bit. The restaurant's general manager, who I absolutely hated, starting asking me how to contact my parents. I could not think of my own phone number or my dad's to save my life. So the guy who already thought I was stupid, now thought I was extra stupid. Finally, the nice manager told him to leave me alone and go look it up in my file.
The guard shows up and he has all this creepy medical stuff with him and I really start crying because no one would let me move and I didn't know what was going on with me. They wheel me through the kitchen crying and panting, in front of all the people who weren't already staring at me, and into the elevator.
The security guards at [Place I Used to Work At] are all usually retired police officers or just retired men and thus old. This guard was no different. He gets one of the kitchen staff to lift me off the chair and place me on the floor. He starts doing doctor-y things to me and I'm freaking out because he keeps muttering. He makes some "Uh-oh" noises and decides he needs the oxygen tank for me. This is when my sister Nina shows up. We live like 6 minutes away, but she must have sped like hell to get there for me. She sees me on the floor, crying, white as a sheet with a old dude fumbling with an oxygen mask on top of me and she gets a concerned look on her face. Seeing her look that way made me get concerned for her so I stopped crying.
At this point, the story turns humorous and I finally began to relax and realize this wasn't a big deal. So, as the guy is leaning down to attach the oxygen mask to my face, he farts super loudly. I look at Nina and she looks at me and she laughs hysterically while I try to not laugh and just breathe in my nice clean oxygen. Now, of course, my father shows up (Nina called him) and does his Lou thing of befriending everyone in the room while somehow finding a way to yell at me. The GM comes in and tells us that the ambulance is here to take me to the emergency room.
I had no idea that there was an ambulance called and have a mini-freak out again because I just want to go home now and have my mom make me spaghetti. But no, of course not. Next thing I know a gurney is being rolled into the room and these 2 female paramedics are strapping me to it. My dad gets in the ambulance with me and my sister follows us in her car.
Let me explain here that my dad is claustrophobic and doesn't really like hospitals and, you know, his daughter passing out and having to go to the hospital. I'd never been inside an ambulance before and I don't know how many of my 5 readers have, but there is minimal sitting space and it's definitely cramped inside. My dad is somewhat heavy (think Tony Soprano) and is forced to sit on this super tiny bench about 12 inches wide. The paramedics were pissed about having to come get me because it was chili night at the fire house and they wanted chili. (Thus why I associate chili with firefighters.) The one was driving super fast, changing lanes left and right and my dad kept sliding all over the bench and looking like he was going to vomit. It was odd me being strapped to gurney telling my dad everything would be okay and to breathe.
When we get to the hospital, they bust through the doors and wheel me to the front. I get a room right away which was completely ridiculous because I am totally fine at this point, just embarrassed and kind of glad I got off work. While Nina, my dad and I are waiting in our cushy room, a man is wheeled in who punched his arm through a plate glass door. His arm is completely shredded and oozing blood everywhere. We see bone. But he has to wait outside because I came in an ambulance. My dad almost throws up again at the site of bloody man and forbids me and Nina from laughing or speaking until the guy gets moved.
I get a bunch of tests like an EKG done and they take my blood which is the one thing I can't stand, but my dad holds my hand cause I'm a princess. It's like 3 hours after I passed out now and I really have to pee. No one has been in to see us in a while and we've determined that I'm not dying so I just decide to go. I get up and walk out to the bathroom. On the way there, I am stopped by my nurse. I think she was waiting for me. She tells me I have to pee in a cup because she thinks I am pregnant, but she didn't want to confront me in front of my dad. I tell her I'm not, but I will gladly pee in her stupid cup. I go to the bathroom and when I get back she is in the room telling my dad how I may be pregnant, but I didn't want him to know. She then gave me a lecture on birth control. You can imagine my dad's reaction to that one. He was nice though and told the lady I was a good smart Catholic girl. However, later he told me that I needed to keep my legs closed until he was dead.
We wait some more and the lady comes and tells us that I'm not pregnant. Duh. We hope to leave, but crazy nurse lady has another theory. She has decided that I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome. She explains it and asked me if I had to go the bathroom when the incident occurred. I tell her no. She continues on, ignoring my answer, explaining how she determined I had IBS. None of her reasons occurred in my situation at all. My dad tells her she is wrong because if there is one thing my family has, it's un-irritated bowels. She finally let us leave since she can't come up with anymore ideas.
It's funny because the people at work thought I was pregnant as well and it spread throughout the whole restaurant and apparently, someone at the restaurant was the father. But sadly the real truth is boring. Basically I passed out because I was overworked and hungry and had been standing for way too many hours. I scared the shit out of myself and my dad and Nina. But we got to have a unique bonding experience and learn about proper methods of birth control and my mom did make my spaghetti.
So there is my long ass story of my youth.
I never did find out if those people got any food.
So, a long long time ago (from 1999 to 2003 according to my old resume) I used to work at [Place I Used to Work At.] Basically, I was a cafeteria lady with a baseball cap instead of a hair net. It was a pretty horrible job at times, mostly because I worked my ass of and got little pay and no respect and/or recognition for my hard work. Plus I was the only one in the cafeteria who spoke English so also at times it was pretty lonely. After some close diagnosis, I believe that every low self esteem thought I have in regards to myself stems from my tenure there. But anyway, here is my somewhat famed (in Delaware, at least) story of one day at work there. Please keep in mind that in 4 years, this is probably the most interesting thing that ever happened to me there. Also, keep in mind that this tale is told awesomely in person and I hope it translates well here.
Alright, I am 16 or 17 and working in the Hot Foods section one night by myself and I was really bored. There weren't a lot of customers and it was kind of hot and I was hungry and generally cranky. Some customers approached me, neglecting the huge sign in front of their faces and the sample plates displayed prominently, and asked me what the entrees were for dinner. As I went over the 3 choices, I remember thinking that I could really give 2 fucks about serving these people food and I was having trouble completing my sentences. I thought it was just the boredom, but I began to see spots and then the general noise in the cafeteria got really wonky and freaky. I slowly backed away from the people, ignoring their orders and went to leave.
The next thing I remember is being outside the cafeteria on the dock out back laying on the cement with the kitchen staff surrounding me. Our work uniform required us to wear black pants, shoes and socks which I always did, except this day. I wake up with my feet above my head on a fruit box and my bright fucking white socks staring at me. Of all the things, about this day. I'll always remember the socks the most. Obviously, I was really confused about what was going on, but also really embarrassed about the socks. It was explained to me that I had passed out, but luckily one of the chefs, Omar, had been walking by and caught me before I hit the floor. (Thank god! That shit was dirrrty.)
I thanked Omar and tried to go back to work but no one would let me get up. They had called the security guards to come help me and I had to wait. Someone on the kitchen staff picked me up and put me in a roll-y office chair and made me wait out on the dock like an asshole with everyone staring at me while the guy came. I was super freaked out because I thought somehow I was dying and I started to hyperventilate a bit. The restaurant's general manager, who I absolutely hated, starting asking me how to contact my parents. I could not think of my own phone number or my dad's to save my life. So the guy who already thought I was stupid, now thought I was extra stupid. Finally, the nice manager told him to leave me alone and go look it up in my file.
The guard shows up and he has all this creepy medical stuff with him and I really start crying because no one would let me move and I didn't know what was going on with me. They wheel me through the kitchen crying and panting, in front of all the people who weren't already staring at me, and into the elevator.
The security guards at [Place I Used to Work At] are all usually retired police officers or just retired men and thus old. This guard was no different. He gets one of the kitchen staff to lift me off the chair and place me on the floor. He starts doing doctor-y things to me and I'm freaking out because he keeps muttering. He makes some "Uh-oh" noises and decides he needs the oxygen tank for me. This is when my sister Nina shows up. We live like 6 minutes away, but she must have sped like hell to get there for me. She sees me on the floor, crying, white as a sheet with a old dude fumbling with an oxygen mask on top of me and she gets a concerned look on her face. Seeing her look that way made me get concerned for her so I stopped crying.
At this point, the story turns humorous and I finally began to relax and realize this wasn't a big deal. So, as the guy is leaning down to attach the oxygen mask to my face, he farts super loudly. I look at Nina and she looks at me and she laughs hysterically while I try to not laugh and just breathe in my nice clean oxygen. Now, of course, my father shows up (Nina called him) and does his Lou thing of befriending everyone in the room while somehow finding a way to yell at me. The GM comes in and tells us that the ambulance is here to take me to the emergency room.
I had no idea that there was an ambulance called and have a mini-freak out again because I just want to go home now and have my mom make me spaghetti. But no, of course not. Next thing I know a gurney is being rolled into the room and these 2 female paramedics are strapping me to it. My dad gets in the ambulance with me and my sister follows us in her car.
Let me explain here that my dad is claustrophobic and doesn't really like hospitals and, you know, his daughter passing out and having to go to the hospital. I'd never been inside an ambulance before and I don't know how many of my 5 readers have, but there is minimal sitting space and it's definitely cramped inside. My dad is somewhat heavy (think Tony Soprano) and is forced to sit on this super tiny bench about 12 inches wide. The paramedics were pissed about having to come get me because it was chili night at the fire house and they wanted chili. (Thus why I associate chili with firefighters.) The one was driving super fast, changing lanes left and right and my dad kept sliding all over the bench and looking like he was going to vomit. It was odd me being strapped to gurney telling my dad everything would be okay and to breathe.
When we get to the hospital, they bust through the doors and wheel me to the front. I get a room right away which was completely ridiculous because I am totally fine at this point, just embarrassed and kind of glad I got off work. While Nina, my dad and I are waiting in our cushy room, a man is wheeled in who punched his arm through a plate glass door. His arm is completely shredded and oozing blood everywhere. We see bone. But he has to wait outside because I came in an ambulance. My dad almost throws up again at the site of bloody man and forbids me and Nina from laughing or speaking until the guy gets moved.
I get a bunch of tests like an EKG done and they take my blood which is the one thing I can't stand, but my dad holds my hand cause I'm a princess. It's like 3 hours after I passed out now and I really have to pee. No one has been in to see us in a while and we've determined that I'm not dying so I just decide to go. I get up and walk out to the bathroom. On the way there, I am stopped by my nurse. I think she was waiting for me. She tells me I have to pee in a cup because she thinks I am pregnant, but she didn't want to confront me in front of my dad. I tell her I'm not, but I will gladly pee in her stupid cup. I go to the bathroom and when I get back she is in the room telling my dad how I may be pregnant, but I didn't want him to know. She then gave me a lecture on birth control. You can imagine my dad's reaction to that one. He was nice though and told the lady I was a good smart Catholic girl. However, later he told me that I needed to keep my legs closed until he was dead.
We wait some more and the lady comes and tells us that I'm not pregnant. Duh. We hope to leave, but crazy nurse lady has another theory. She has decided that I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome. She explains it and asked me if I had to go the bathroom when the incident occurred. I tell her no. She continues on, ignoring my answer, explaining how she determined I had IBS. None of her reasons occurred in my situation at all. My dad tells her she is wrong because if there is one thing my family has, it's un-irritated bowels. She finally let us leave since she can't come up with anymore ideas.
It's funny because the people at work thought I was pregnant as well and it spread throughout the whole restaurant and apparently, someone at the restaurant was the father. But sadly the real truth is boring. Basically I passed out because I was overworked and hungry and had been standing for way too many hours. I scared the shit out of myself and my dad and Nina. But we got to have a unique bonding experience and learn about proper methods of birth control and my mom did make my spaghetti.
So there is my long ass story of my youth.
I never did find out if those people got any food.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
My debut.
Wes Bentley totally shook my hand. Like OMG!
Look for me from the back boarding a train in The Ungodly! Look for Juan walking in front of me! Look for Sara and Ram walking through the station and up some stairs! Look for the house as the old lady's house! Look for our names in the credits at the very super end in tiny print!
Since you are looking, look for a job for me while you're at it!
Look for me from the back boarding a train in The Ungodly! Look for Juan walking in front of me! Look for Sara and Ram walking through the station and up some stairs! Look for the house as the old lady's house! Look for our names in the credits at the very super end in tiny print!
Since you are looking, look for a job for me while you're at it!
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Super Salute to Unemployment Tuesday
Today Sara and I went downtown to eat sushi. On the way to the sushi place, we got two really odd remarks holla-ed at us.
1.) "He's going to kill me. Can you help me?"
2.) "If I went to y'all's school, would you date me?"
In both cases, we just walked away and then about 10 steps later looked at each other and laughed.
1.) "He's going to kill me. Can you help me?"
2.) "If I went to y'all's school, would you date me?"
In both cases, we just walked away and then about 10 steps later looked at each other and laughed.
Monday, November 28, 2005
The Turnpike.
On Sunday, I went to Roni and Luke's engagement party in Northern Jersey. (Yay! Congratulations!) It was fun and delicious. However, it was also very far. It's the last exit on the New Jersey turnpike which is #18. I started at Philadelphia #4. Driving on any turnpike is the most boring thing ever. They are hardly any billboards and I found myself anxiously awaiting the next rest stop sign where they tell you what food places each one has.
I am such a nerd that I spent a significant part of my 2 hourish drive time trying to see if any of them were always together. I actually had thoughts like, "Oooh, I wonder if the Burger King and Aunt Anne are doing it" or "That naked mermaid from Starbuck's loves her some Nathan's hot dogs."
I also listened to Gold Digger on repeat for 25 minutes before I realized it was repeating. It was like when you hit Scan on the radio and an hour later, you realize that you have just been listening to the radio scan channels all this time and haven't actually heard a whole song. That happens to other people, right?
Unemployment makes you crazy.
I am such a nerd that I spent a significant part of my 2 hourish drive time trying to see if any of them were always together. I actually had thoughts like, "Oooh, I wonder if the Burger King and Aunt Anne are doing it" or "That naked mermaid from Starbuck's loves her some Nathan's hot dogs."
I also listened to Gold Digger on repeat for 25 minutes before I realized it was repeating. It was like when you hit Scan on the radio and an hour later, you realize that you have just been listening to the radio scan channels all this time and haven't actually heard a whole song. That happens to other people, right?
Unemployment makes you crazy.
Friday, November 25, 2005
The immunity idol.
First off, I'm such a TV nerd. I just referenced Survivor in my subject.
Secondly, I think I have become immune to my alarm clock! Well, my cell phone alarm clock. I don't use my actual clock because the alarm is busted and will only be as loud as possible and it gives me a heart attack if I use that. I have been using my cell phone alarm for about 3 years now and it always worked well. On my old Nokia phone, sometimes the alarm would go off at random times, but it would always go off when it was supposed to as well.
I have a Motorola phone now which is cool because you can save alarm times in the phone. But lately, I have just been sleeping right through it. The happy little Cingular tune no longer wakes me up. I have never slept through alarms before. I always used to wake up Roni freshmen year because she slept through hers. (Aww, memories.) I tried changing it to something else, but no dice. I still sleep through it. (By the way, I just set the alarm so I can get up and look for jobs. It's not like I have anywhere to go or ever leave my house.)
I think I'm going to have to start using the loudest alarm clock ever known to man to wake me up. Either that or accepting my bumhood and sleeping till 2 pm everyday. I think is much worse than that time I became immune to my deodorant.
Secondly, I think I have become immune to my alarm clock! Well, my cell phone alarm clock. I don't use my actual clock because the alarm is busted and will only be as loud as possible and it gives me a heart attack if I use that. I have been using my cell phone alarm for about 3 years now and it always worked well. On my old Nokia phone, sometimes the alarm would go off at random times, but it would always go off when it was supposed to as well.
I have a Motorola phone now which is cool because you can save alarm times in the phone. But lately, I have just been sleeping right through it. The happy little Cingular tune no longer wakes me up. I have never slept through alarms before. I always used to wake up Roni freshmen year because she slept through hers. (Aww, memories.) I tried changing it to something else, but no dice. I still sleep through it. (By the way, I just set the alarm so I can get up and look for jobs. It's not like I have anywhere to go or ever leave my house.)
I think I'm going to have to start using the loudest alarm clock ever known to man to wake me up. Either that or accepting my bumhood and sleeping till 2 pm everyday. I think is much worse than that time I became immune to my deodorant.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Right...
In reference to Thanksgiving, I forgot to add that pumpkin pie is the foulest thing ever. It's orange-y brown and smells and has a weird texture and is disgusting and thus the third reason why I hate Thanksgiving.
I'm just a bundle of joy this week!
I'm just a bundle of joy this week!
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
The time has come...
Well, my 4 lovely readers who I love and worship, the day has come that I finally get to go world wide with my greatest complaint of all time. This following rant is usually expressed every year at this time, but this is the first time it is going in the written word. Here we go.
I fucking hate Thanksgiving.
It is the most ridiculous holiday every created. Please note that I am a nerd and I love holidays especially Christmas. I am addicted to Hallmark cards and like to give people gifts and hang out with my family and do our nerdy Gryffindor traditions.
But Thanksgiving annoys me to no end. Let's just say that America was briefly nice to the Native Americans for a bit and shared a meal with them. That's lovely! Good job, pilgrims. However, that one possible nice moment has been spoiled with fucking turkey sales and Thanksgiving Beanie Babies. And even if that supposed moment did happen, afterwards we stole the Indians' land, killed them, raped them, ruined their lives and gave them our fancy English diseases like syphilis.
Mmm, syphilis really makes me want to eat goddamn turkey. Which brings me to my second point against Thanksgiving. I hate turkey. It's dry and blah and I much prefer chicken. For the record, I do, however, enjoy lunch meat turkey, just not turkey turkey. My sister is the same way. I really like the side dishes at Thanksgiving: mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, beans, etc. Plus I completely love the cranberry sauce out of the can. But every fucking year, someone in my family who shall remain nameless, but if you have ever been to my house when my extended family is there you can guess who it is, brings up the fact that I didn't eat the turkey and how disrespectful that is to my mother who cooked it which is funny because my mom doesn't really like turkey either and she is nice and doesn't care if I don't eat it because she knows I respect her and eat anything else she makes. That was a long sentence.
I hope everyone enjoyed my Thanksgiving rant. For those of you who have heard it numerous times, let me know if I forgot anything.
Happy Thanksgiving!
I fucking hate Thanksgiving.
It is the most ridiculous holiday every created. Please note that I am a nerd and I love holidays especially Christmas. I am addicted to Hallmark cards and like to give people gifts and hang out with my family and do our nerdy Gryffindor traditions.
But Thanksgiving annoys me to no end. Let's just say that America was briefly nice to the Native Americans for a bit and shared a meal with them. That's lovely! Good job, pilgrims. However, that one possible nice moment has been spoiled with fucking turkey sales and Thanksgiving Beanie Babies. And even if that supposed moment did happen, afterwards we stole the Indians' land, killed them, raped them, ruined their lives and gave them our fancy English diseases like syphilis.
Mmm, syphilis really makes me want to eat goddamn turkey. Which brings me to my second point against Thanksgiving. I hate turkey. It's dry and blah and I much prefer chicken. For the record, I do, however, enjoy lunch meat turkey, just not turkey turkey. My sister is the same way. I really like the side dishes at Thanksgiving: mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, beans, etc. Plus I completely love the cranberry sauce out of the can. But every fucking year, someone in my family who shall remain nameless, but if you have ever been to my house when my extended family is there you can guess who it is, brings up the fact that I didn't eat the turkey and how disrespectful that is to my mother who cooked it which is funny because my mom doesn't really like turkey either and she is nice and doesn't care if I don't eat it because she knows I respect her and eat anything else she makes. That was a long sentence.
I hope everyone enjoyed my Thanksgiving rant. For those of you who have heard it numerous times, let me know if I forgot anything.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Monday, November 21, 2005
Nostalgia
I had a weird hankering to play skee ball the other day and Ram and I finally played the other day. It was super fun. I beat Ram once, but then he turned into an international skee ball champion and destroyed me. I was just excited I was finally able to score higher than 10 points with a ball.
My new goal in life is to own a skee ball table. Anyone want to give me $4,795? And uh, after that I need some people to move it. It's only 450 pounds though.
My new goal in life is to own a skee ball table. Anyone want to give me $4,795? And uh, after that I need some people to move it. It's only 450 pounds though.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Being Italian.
Everyone in my family always has "a guy" and everyone constantly feels the need to compete to see who has a better guy. It's weird. I don't feel as though my family is much on bragging or comparing ourselves too much, [See Rule Number 1 in Italian Family Handbook: What happens in the family, stays in the family.] but everybody loves a good guy competition.
For example, my mother needs new tires on her car, which incidentally was purchased because my dad knows a guy. My grandfather was over for dinner and was talking about how he took his car to the dealership to get looked at and my mom yelled at him because they overcharge and I don't know how this lead to my mom telling him she was told she needed new tires, but didn't get them from the mechanic who told her that because they were expensive because my mom and grandpa argue exactly the same and it takes forever and don't you hate when people ramble on in one endless sentence like that and never reach the point? Ha.
But yeah, my grandpa told my mom he had a guy who could get good deals on tires because of where he works. Then my mom said she knew a guy who could get a better deal and then I think my sister said my dad knew a guy with an even better deal. Thus, my dad won. Although, in all fairness my grandfather didn't have a price estimate to fully compete with.
Did this make sense to anyone? I think I even confused myself with this one. I apologize for the lack of/random blogging as of late.
For example, my mother needs new tires on her car, which incidentally was purchased because my dad knows a guy. My grandfather was over for dinner and was talking about how he took his car to the dealership to get looked at and my mom yelled at him because they overcharge and I don't know how this lead to my mom telling him she was told she needed new tires, but didn't get them from the mechanic who told her that because they were expensive because my mom and grandpa argue exactly the same and it takes forever and don't you hate when people ramble on in one endless sentence like that and never reach the point? Ha.
But yeah, my grandpa told my mom he had a guy who could get good deals on tires because of where he works. Then my mom said she knew a guy who could get a better deal and then I think my sister said my dad knew a guy with an even better deal. Thus, my dad won. Although, in all fairness my grandfather didn't have a price estimate to fully compete with.
Did this make sense to anyone? I think I even confused myself with this one. I apologize for the lack of/random blogging as of late.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Just another Thursday.
My father is obsessed with office supplies. Today he said, "I love my white out and highlighters. Playing with them keeps me sane." It was really odd because he said it in this dreamy kind of voice and for a minute I could see Young Louis going school supply shopping as a child. He makes me laugh, but he is insane. Obviously, his office supplies didn't keep him sane enough.
Thinking about what your parents were like when they were younger is really strange. They could totally lie to you about what they were like and you'd have no idea. I'm lucky because both my parents are willing to rat the other out on their lies and both have friends they have known since elementary school who will not only tell me what's a lie, they will also supply a super awesome true story.
I think I'm going to tell my kids I was super cool. If I know you in the future, lie for me, okay?
Thinking about what your parents were like when they were younger is really strange. They could totally lie to you about what they were like and you'd have no idea. I'm lucky because both my parents are willing to rat the other out on their lies and both have friends they have known since elementary school who will not only tell me what's a lie, they will also supply a super awesome true story.
I think I'm going to tell my kids I was super cool. If I know you in the future, lie for me, okay?
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
I can't believe this happened.
An actual conversation from my life:
Me: Are you going to leave me for Star Wars?
Anonymous: No, you have boobs, I wouldn't do that.
Me: You would leave me for a light saber though.
Anonymous: No, of course not. [PAUSE] Wait, a REAL light saber?
Me: Yeah.
Aonoymous: Well, of course, I would! Imagine what I could do with a real light saber.
Me: Are you going to leave me for Star Wars?
Anonymous: No, you have boobs, I wouldn't do that.
Me: You would leave me for a light saber though.
Anonymous: No, of course not. [PAUSE] Wait, a REAL light saber?
Me: Yeah.
Aonoymous: Well, of course, I would! Imagine what I could do with a real light saber.
Another reason why I can't be a grown up.
I am 22 years old and I am scared to be home alone with repair people. Today someone came to fix our oven and I was really weirded out by it.
I think this stems from the fact that when I was about 9 (4th grade?) my sister and I were always home alone when the fixer people came and I was always scared they were going to kidnap us. I used to have weird dreams that people spied on us through the electrical sockets and would watch for when my mom left and then they would abduct us in their horse and buggy. I was a very odd child.
I recently realized that I know all the words to the Golden Girls' theme song. So, add that to the list of useless TV theme songs I know by heart.
I think this stems from the fact that when I was about 9 (4th grade?) my sister and I were always home alone when the fixer people came and I was always scared they were going to kidnap us. I used to have weird dreams that people spied on us through the electrical sockets and would watch for when my mom left and then they would abduct us in their horse and buggy. I was a very odd child.
I recently realized that I know all the words to the Golden Girls' theme song. So, add that to the list of useless TV theme songs I know by heart.
Monday, November 07, 2005
I carried a watermelon.
You know when you are driving and suddenly you realize you are much further into the trip then you thought you were? That really weirds me out. It happens to me all the time and I try to focus, but no matter what I just sorta zone out. Today I was on 76 and then suddenly I was getting off at my exit on 95. I don't remember driving in between there, but I did. I guess it's nice that my brain still worked and got me where I had to go, but I'd like to be able to not feel like I could have died. I swear I'm a good driver by the way. I don't do that with other people in the car.
I went out with Domenica on Saturday and some weird waitress at Ruby Tuesday's stalked her to the salad bar and asked about her cowboy boots. Then she came to the table and talked to me about cowboy boots. She also rubbed Domenica's boot while talking to me. It was really strange. I bet she was a cheerleader, she had cheerleader hair.
I went to a park with Ram and Chris on Sunday and we swung on swings. I told them that Inside-Out Boy was my childhood hero and Ram pooed all over my dream by telling me Mythbusters tried to swing over the bar, but deemed it a myth. This little kid there landed on his head twice when he fell off the swing.
I really want some cottage cheese. I get really weird food cravings. One time when I was drunk, I told Sara I wanted pizza with sushi on top wrapped in a tortilla shell.
Living at my house is slowly killing me. Or just making me really uncool and hard to deal with.
I went out with Domenica on Saturday and some weird waitress at Ruby Tuesday's stalked her to the salad bar and asked about her cowboy boots. Then she came to the table and talked to me about cowboy boots. She also rubbed Domenica's boot while talking to me. It was really strange. I bet she was a cheerleader, she had cheerleader hair.
I went to a park with Ram and Chris on Sunday and we swung on swings. I told them that Inside-Out Boy was my childhood hero and Ram pooed all over my dream by telling me Mythbusters tried to swing over the bar, but deemed it a myth. This little kid there landed on his head twice when he fell off the swing.
I really want some cottage cheese. I get really weird food cravings. One time when I was drunk, I told Sara I wanted pizza with sushi on top wrapped in a tortilla shell.
Living at my house is slowly killing me. Or just making me really uncool and hard to deal with.
Monday, October 31, 2005
I Can't Get a Minute Without You.
Ahh, Hanson Day 2005 came and went. Christina, Amber and I tried to go for the triple Hanson super day, but settled for a double when we saw them at the World Cafe during the day and The Troc at night. They are definitely working hard to appeal to a larger audience. They didn't play MMMBop at either show, but they did play a lot of stuff from their first CD. It was an odd mix of songs, but good nonetheless. I still heart them. Christina did manage to get Isaac's autograph with my famed pink Sharpie and she also rubbed him down out of nervousness.
I totally wanted to write this post to talk about this girl at the show and I completely forgot before. But yeah, there was this girl in front on us who was dancing during the show. Which isn't so weird normally, but this girl was like acting out the songs through her dancing. If they said heart or love, she would use her thumbs and pointer fingers to make a heart and wave it above her head. Or if they said down or up she'd point in the appropriate direction. Around or going in circles was waving her arm in a lassoe-ing motion above her head. It was just weird. When she couldn't act out the song, she'd just sorta make this weird humping, butterfly motion. We, of course, mocked her and did our own action dancing in return. If you ask I will totally do an interpretive Hanson dance for you complete with butterfly motions.
I finally settled on being Madonna for Halloween. Although, I think everyone just thought I was an '80's chick. Oh well, at least they got it somewhat right. Everyone had really great costumes and fun and beer and tequila were had, but I did not vomit! World record!
I totally wanted to write this post to talk about this girl at the show and I completely forgot before. But yeah, there was this girl in front on us who was dancing during the show. Which isn't so weird normally, but this girl was like acting out the songs through her dancing. If they said heart or love, she would use her thumbs and pointer fingers to make a heart and wave it above her head. Or if they said down or up she'd point in the appropriate direction. Around or going in circles was waving her arm in a lassoe-ing motion above her head. It was just weird. When she couldn't act out the song, she'd just sorta make this weird humping, butterfly motion. We, of course, mocked her and did our own action dancing in return. If you ask I will totally do an interpretive Hanson dance for you complete with butterfly motions.
I finally settled on being Madonna for Halloween. Although, I think everyone just thought I was an '80's chick. Oh well, at least they got it somewhat right. Everyone had really great costumes and fun and beer and tequila were had, but I did not vomit! World record!
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Help me Rhonda.
I suck at Halloween. I think I actually get to dress up as something this year which I have never done in college. Well, I'm not in college anymore, but I pretend I am to ease the pain, but I don't think I've had a Halloween costume since like 8th grade. I always had shitty costumes except when Christina's mom or my friend Kimmie's mom made them for me. My mom was kind of not good at the making of things for Halloween which I inherited.
I need costume ideas. I understand that girls usually just wear the least amount of clothes possible, but I'd like to wear some clothes please. I put Ram in charge of picking out my costume, but I think he's stuck on his own. Any ideas? Anyone?
As a side note, today my mom told me my hair looked bad and she couldn't believe I left the house with it looking the way it did. (That makes her sound mean, but she isn't. She just likes for her daughters to brush their hair.) I actually sorta brushed it today too! If only she knew what it looked like when I went to work and she wasn't here...
I need costume ideas. I understand that girls usually just wear the least amount of clothes possible, but I'd like to wear some clothes please. I put Ram in charge of picking out my costume, but I think he's stuck on his own. Any ideas? Anyone?
As a side note, today my mom told me my hair looked bad and she couldn't believe I left the house with it looking the way it did. (That makes her sound mean, but she isn't. She just likes for her daughters to brush their hair.) I actually sorta brushed it today too! If only she knew what it looked like when I went to work and she wasn't here...
Monday, October 24, 2005
A Collection of Ramblings.
That My Hump song by the Black Eyed Peas is really fucking horrible. I find it pretty disgusting and I don't get disgusted by things like that usually. I'm quite pervy, but something about using Cocoa Puffs and milk for a sexual euphemism grosses me out. Plus they are pretty much telling girls that they should use their breasts to get free jeans. I don't know if this is just me or not, but I just really fucking hate that song.
On the subject of being grossed out, I saw Alien VS. Predator yesterday. I've never seen any Alien or Predator movie and I am really glad of that now. The alien things were so foul. I actually lost my appetite after seeing those face sucker things that look like vaginas. It was absolutely disgusting. I also watched Dawn of the Dead and I liked that one. I can handle that sort of scary, I just hate gross disgusting things in costume/clown scary.
When will I ever learn my lesson about alcohol and milk? Seriously people, please just punch me in the stomach instead of letting me drink milk with alcohol. It doesn't matter if I'm in Atlantic City or Philadelphia, it always ends badly. At least this time it wasn't flavored strawberry or orange cream milk, I sorta learned about that.
Ram, Sara and I sold a bag full of Nazi flags and a blacklight to a war relic collector. I tried to get us all to post the same blog entry on all our blogs about it, but I was the only one who thought that was a funny idea.
I am done my stupid intern job that I hated. Now I get to sit in my basement all day long again like a normal unemployed person.
Does anybody want to go see Fiona Apple with me? It's at the Tower Theater on December 8th. Prices vary. Pleaseeeeeeee.
On the subject of being grossed out, I saw Alien VS. Predator yesterday. I've never seen any Alien or Predator movie and I am really glad of that now. The alien things were so foul. I actually lost my appetite after seeing those face sucker things that look like vaginas. It was absolutely disgusting. I also watched Dawn of the Dead and I liked that one. I can handle that sort of scary, I just hate gross disgusting things in costume/clown scary.
When will I ever learn my lesson about alcohol and milk? Seriously people, please just punch me in the stomach instead of letting me drink milk with alcohol. It doesn't matter if I'm in Atlantic City or Philadelphia, it always ends badly. At least this time it wasn't flavored strawberry or orange cream milk, I sorta learned about that.
Ram, Sara and I sold a bag full of Nazi flags and a blacklight to a war relic collector. I tried to get us all to post the same blog entry on all our blogs about it, but I was the only one who thought that was a funny idea.
I am done my stupid intern job that I hated. Now I get to sit in my basement all day long again like a normal unemployed person.
Does anybody want to go see Fiona Apple with me? It's at the Tower Theater on December 8th. Prices vary. Pleaseeeeeeee.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
The time I broke my ass..
Because I am bored I am going to tell you the story of how I once broke my ass. Well, it's not really so much a story as a random event that caused me to break my ass. And I didn't really break my ass, but saying that makes me laugh because I am 5. And it's not really that great of a thing to discuss but I'm unemployed and live at home so cut me a break and read my story and humor me.
It all happened when I was going out to our garage to get a drink or something when I was a junior in high school during dinner one time. To get to the garage from the kitchen, you have to go down two wooden steps and as I was going down the steps, I stepped on the edge of the first step. (By edge, I mean that little piece of overhanging material on the step) Of course, the wood breaks right as I step on it and I completely fall to the ground.
In front of me was a very big SUV and to the right was a trash can full of glass so I tried to fall to the left. Which I successfully did, but of course I land in my dog's heavy duty, hard plastic waterbowl and into the metal thing that pokes out of the wall to hold the garden hose in place.
I only fell two steps, but I was NOT expecting the step to break and I walk down stairs very forcefully, apparently. (My mother calls me her baby elephant.) Because of these factors, I landed so incredibly fucking hard that I completely shattered the bowl, fell through to the concrete and jammed my back into the metal prong-y things full force.
I sat on the ground dazed and my ass full of plastic bits and soaked with water in complete shock. My mom freaked out and called my dad who then drove over as fast as possible and then my whole family had to examine my ass because I couldn't move off the floor and they thought I broke my tailbone. Eventually I got up and luckily, convinced them not to take me to the emergency room, but for the next two weeks my whole ass was a giant bruise and quite possibly the most unattractive ass ever seen by mankind. Wasn't that just a lovely story?
PS. My dog did get a brand new shiny metal waterbowl as a replacement.
PPS. I'm not sure if I find this post funny anymore or just really sad.
It all happened when I was going out to our garage to get a drink or something when I was a junior in high school during dinner one time. To get to the garage from the kitchen, you have to go down two wooden steps and as I was going down the steps, I stepped on the edge of the first step. (By edge, I mean that little piece of overhanging material on the step) Of course, the wood breaks right as I step on it and I completely fall to the ground.
In front of me was a very big SUV and to the right was a trash can full of glass so I tried to fall to the left. Which I successfully did, but of course I land in my dog's heavy duty, hard plastic waterbowl and into the metal thing that pokes out of the wall to hold the garden hose in place.
I only fell two steps, but I was NOT expecting the step to break and I walk down stairs very forcefully, apparently. (My mother calls me her baby elephant.) Because of these factors, I landed so incredibly fucking hard that I completely shattered the bowl, fell through to the concrete and jammed my back into the metal prong-y things full force.
I sat on the ground dazed and my ass full of plastic bits and soaked with water in complete shock. My mom freaked out and called my dad who then drove over as fast as possible and then my whole family had to examine my ass because I couldn't move off the floor and they thought I broke my tailbone. Eventually I got up and luckily, convinced them not to take me to the emergency room, but for the next two weeks my whole ass was a giant bruise and quite possibly the most unattractive ass ever seen by mankind. Wasn't that just a lovely story?
PS. My dog did get a brand new shiny metal waterbowl as a replacement.
PPS. I'm not sure if I find this post funny anymore or just really sad.
Monday, October 17, 2005
What the Hell?
I applied for a job at Borders today because I am bored and poor. I didn't realize applying to Borders was like trying to join the CIA. They asked me 37 pages of questions like these with strongly disagree, disagree, agree and strongly agree as answer choices:
There's no use having close friends; they always let you down
You work better with your hands than your mind
You are somewhat of a thrill-seeker
You feel tense when someone watches you work
You feel lively and energetic at parties
You are not afraid to tell someone off
When something goes wrong, your whole day is ruined
It is hard to really care about work when the job is boring
You attract attention to yourself
You have no big regrets about your past
In your free time, you go out more than stay home
There are some people you really can't stand
You were absent very few days from high school
When you are annoyed with something, you say so
You've had some disappointments that you'll never get over
People's feelings are sometimes hurt by what you say
You do some things that upset people
You swear when you argue (It's a good thing that I never curse...)
You have plenty of self-confidence
You are not interested in your friends' problems
You are a fairly private person (That's why I filled out this psych evaluation for you asses)
It is maddening when the court lets guilty criminals go free
You've done your share of troublemaking
Is Borders trying to date me? Thanks to that application I am more confused about myself as a person than I have ever been before. I don't think I can be hired because I am fucked up and quite insane at this point in my life.
There's no use having close friends; they always let you down
You work better with your hands than your mind
You are somewhat of a thrill-seeker
You feel tense when someone watches you work
You feel lively and energetic at parties
You are not afraid to tell someone off
When something goes wrong, your whole day is ruined
It is hard to really care about work when the job is boring
You attract attention to yourself
You have no big regrets about your past
In your free time, you go out more than stay home
There are some people you really can't stand
You were absent very few days from high school
When you are annoyed with something, you say so
You've had some disappointments that you'll never get over
People's feelings are sometimes hurt by what you say
You do some things that upset people
You swear when you argue (It's a good thing that I never curse...)
You have plenty of self-confidence
You are not interested in your friends' problems
You are a fairly private person (That's why I filled out this psych evaluation for you asses)
It is maddening when the court lets guilty criminals go free
You've done your share of troublemaking
Is Borders trying to date me? Thanks to that application I am more confused about myself as a person than I have ever been before. I don't think I can be hired because I am fucked up and quite insane at this point in my life.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
I'm a bitch.
I've been thinking lately about the word bitch. It's a word that has been used to describe most girls (women, ladies, whatever) in the world. Personally, I've been called it an obscene amount of times. It's weird because men can also be called bitches but the meaning for a man is the complete opposite of a woman. A woman who is a bitch (according to the dictionary) is:
-A woman considered to be spiteful or overbearing.
-A lewd woman.
However, for a man to be a bitch he must be:
-A man considered to be weak or contemptible.
So, a weak man is just an overbearing woman? I don't know what the point of me writing this is, I just wanted to clear my head of it. I just don't get it. How do words become bad and offensive? What exactly makes shit, fuck, bitch, etc. so bad? Why these words? How did the word for a female dog become the insult people use against one another?
I'm sure more than half the people who are called a bitch are neither weak or lewd or overbearing. I know a lot of times it just happens because a woman is honest or displays traits that would be perfectly acceptable for a man to have. Is that really a bad way for us to be? It's unfortunate now because you have to preface statements with "I don't mean to be a bitch, but..." just to protect yourself from getting this horrible reputation as a bitch and even then, that doesn't really work. People are going to say what they want regardless, you just have to come to terms with it, I guess. Or just quit speaking.
This post was brought to you by the letter T and by readers like you.
-A woman considered to be spiteful or overbearing.
-A lewd woman.
However, for a man to be a bitch he must be:
-A man considered to be weak or contemptible.
So, a weak man is just an overbearing woman? I don't know what the point of me writing this is, I just wanted to clear my head of it. I just don't get it. How do words become bad and offensive? What exactly makes shit, fuck, bitch, etc. so bad? Why these words? How did the word for a female dog become the insult people use against one another?
I'm sure more than half the people who are called a bitch are neither weak or lewd or overbearing. I know a lot of times it just happens because a woman is honest or displays traits that would be perfectly acceptable for a man to have. Is that really a bad way for us to be? It's unfortunate now because you have to preface statements with "I don't mean to be a bitch, but..." just to protect yourself from getting this horrible reputation as a bitch and even then, that doesn't really work. People are going to say what they want regardless, you just have to come to terms with it, I guess. Or just quit speaking.
This post was brought to you by the letter T and by readers like you.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
What a Drag it is Getting Old.
Except apparently if you are a member of the Rolling Stones. Then being old means rocking like a motherfucker and being able to dance around for 2 hours non-stop.
Here is my super short (but short in a Joanne way, so not short at all) recount of my Rolling Stones experience. Actually, it's not a recount it's just random things that I was too lazy to compile into a real paragraph.
Paying $450 for a concert ticket is ridiculous. Pay the $160, silly!
Drunk man behind me who put his ass on my head and spilled popcorn on my aunt, (yes, your Mom) your Mick Jagger imitation sucks and you suck and if you stick your hand in my face one more time I am biting you. And hey, tell your drunk friend to please not hit on my mom in front of me.
Speaking of my mother, she seriously considered flashing the band during Honky Tonk Women. I told her if she did I would take off my bra and throw it on stage. She, unfortunately, encouraged this.
Dear God, they played Paint It Black. It was amazing.
Don't ever name your dog after a song that a band you frequently see on tour always plays. I held it in and did not cry over Jumpin' Jack Flash though.
I totally worked out a plea to my mom for a puppy involving Rolling Stones' song titles and it was beautiful. Until she started screaming over Sympathy for the Devil and couldn't hear me anymore.
Hey, drunk man who hit on my mom, why did you buy that girl the t-shirt I wanted? Why not me? I'd tell my mom to be nice to you for 5 minutes.
Stages that appear in the middle of the arena that turn out to be right in front of you are amazing.
I want to dance like Mick Jagger.
Could they be any scarier looking? Charlie Watts survived throat cancer and looks the best out of all of you and he looks like a corpse.
Could they be any skinnier also? Also, is Mick 4 feet tall?
Tell my mom to stop dancing.
I saw Pierre Robear!! I have no idea how to spell that.
If anyone loves me, they would buy me this since the drunk man didn't and I am too poor myself. If a whole group of people who love me bought me that, it would be okay too.
I lost all motivation to finish this. I end it here out of laziness.
Here is my super short (but short in a Joanne way, so not short at all) recount of my Rolling Stones experience. Actually, it's not a recount it's just random things that I was too lazy to compile into a real paragraph.
Paying $450 for a concert ticket is ridiculous. Pay the $160, silly!
Drunk man behind me who put his ass on my head and spilled popcorn on my aunt, (yes, your Mom) your Mick Jagger imitation sucks and you suck and if you stick your hand in my face one more time I am biting you. And hey, tell your drunk friend to please not hit on my mom in front of me.
Speaking of my mother, she seriously considered flashing the band during Honky Tonk Women. I told her if she did I would take off my bra and throw it on stage. She, unfortunately, encouraged this.
Dear God, they played Paint It Black. It was amazing.
Don't ever name your dog after a song that a band you frequently see on tour always plays. I held it in and did not cry over Jumpin' Jack Flash though.
I totally worked out a plea to my mom for a puppy involving Rolling Stones' song titles and it was beautiful. Until she started screaming over Sympathy for the Devil and couldn't hear me anymore.
Hey, drunk man who hit on my mom, why did you buy that girl the t-shirt I wanted? Why not me? I'd tell my mom to be nice to you for 5 minutes.
Stages that appear in the middle of the arena that turn out to be right in front of you are amazing.
I want to dance like Mick Jagger.
Could they be any scarier looking? Charlie Watts survived throat cancer and looks the best out of all of you and he looks like a corpse.
Could they be any skinnier also? Also, is Mick 4 feet tall?
Tell my mom to stop dancing.
I saw Pierre Robear!! I have no idea how to spell that.
If anyone loves me, they would buy me this since the drunk man didn't and I am too poor myself. If a whole group of people who love me bought me that, it would be okay too.
I lost all motivation to finish this. I end it here out of laziness.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Fire in the Taco Bell!
Oh my god, I just wrote a whole post about my hair! I think that's a sign of how horrible this blog has become. I won't post the hair story, although it did discuss pigeon and muskrat sex.
Ugh. Okay, I didn't want to resort to this, but here I go...
Everyone should watch Lost! (ABC, Wednesday at 9) It's actually answering shit now and giving you clues to figure the mysteries out with. They aren't just throwing shit at you all the time. I got the Season One DVDs for my birthday and whoemever may borrow them as long as they don't get the box smudgey cause that gets my anal retentiveness in high gear.
Also, everyone should watch Veronica Mars on UPN which is on the same time as Lost and may be difficult. So pick one and download the other and experience nerdy TV happiness with me, okay?
The weekend is coming. Yay!
Ugh. Okay, I didn't want to resort to this, but here I go...
Everyone should watch Lost! (ABC, Wednesday at 9) It's actually answering shit now and giving you clues to figure the mysteries out with. They aren't just throwing shit at you all the time. I got the Season One DVDs for my birthday and whoemever may borrow them as long as they don't get the box smudgey cause that gets my anal retentiveness in high gear.
Also, everyone should watch Veronica Mars on UPN which is on the same time as Lost and may be difficult. So pick one and download the other and experience nerdy TV happiness with me, okay?
The weekend is coming. Yay!
Monday, October 03, 2005
Thanks Monday.
Today a bird pooped in my hair.
Immediately following, I went to a job interview.
Also, a homeless man asked me if I was filming an episode of America's Next Top Model which I get was a pick up line of some sorts, but homeless people watch America's Next Top Model?!
Immediately following, I went to a job interview.
Also, a homeless man asked me if I was filming an episode of America's Next Top Model which I get was a pick up line of some sorts, but homeless people watch America's Next Top Model?!
Thursday, September 29, 2005
My Father is Insane.
On Thursdays, I work for my dad. My dad is a mushroom broker/gas station owner/vending machine guy/800 other things. If you've met my dad you know he is somewhat crazy, but if you haven't I hope this helps you get an idea about him.
The following is an account of my day. The minutes are kind of off because I was using different clocks and they all said different things, but who really gives a fuck?
9:40-I start my day by buying leases and monthly rental agreements at the office supply store.
10:00-Lectured about how I should know more about things like lead paint. I am given a CD about lead paint to watch on my own time to educate myself.
10:20-I go to the post office.
10:24-Told never to bring home the crap ads from the post office ever again.
10:35-My dad makes me lie to an old man and say he is not in the office.
10:36-Tell Dad I am going to hell for him and should get paid more.
10:37-Told by Dad that I'll probably end up in hell for something else first. No raise.
10:40-I get to put 9 bazillion one dollar bills from the soda machines in order so they are all facing the same way.
10:59-Touch a one dollar bill covered in human feces.
11:04-Take a soda order
11:05-Yelled at for being too slow
11:09-I try to take my first order for mushrooms. I get told to wait 2 minutes.
11:11-Still no call about the order.
11:13-Call to pester the man for my mushroom order. He is very alarmed to know that I am even less patient than my dad.
11:15-Get called "Sweetheart" by a man named Bubba. I giggle.
11:23-Get yelled at for trying to take a break to wash the shit off my hand.
11:30-Go to bank
11:40-Apologize to banker who has to count the 9 bazillion ones.
11:50-The gas light goes on in my car and I begin to hyperventilate.
11:50-Gas light goes off. Try to breathe normally.
12:02-Go to post office to cover up the mistake I made the first time I went to the post office.
12:05-Back at the office.
12:07-Introduced to same guy for 9th time.
12:12-The Canada Dry guy comes.
12:40-I fall asleep in my chair with my mouth open.
12:45-Motion sensor buzzes and wakes me up.
1:00-Load soda order onto a pallet.
1:16-Count the soda money from today.
1:19-Yelled at for being too slow.
1:20-Yelled at for my entire generation being too slow. (Thanks everyone)
1:30-Get to add up mushroom sheets on fancy calculator.
1:45-My dad calls his accountant to find out if it's illegal to be paid as little as I am.
1:46-Yelled at for being unemployed and working for peanuts.
1:47-My dad tries to get me to call the intern place so he can "break their balls"
1:51-My dad calls me a secretary. I tell him I'm a receptionist. We settle on receptionist bitch.
2:00-Get an actual compliment!! Am told I have gotten very good at monitoring the security cameras.
2:03-Some guy calls to buy my Jetta. (for sale in front of the gas station) He doesn't speak English. He keeps yelling "Yetta" in my ear. I pull together some Spanish and ask him for his number. He hangs up on me.
2:17-Lecture about how I shouldn't use peoples names when delivering messages. I get confused.
2:30-Try to fix motion sensor. I fail.
2:31-Dad fixes sensor in 3 seconds.
2:35-Yelled at for being too slow.
2:36-Told I wasn't as slow as usual.
2:40-I arrange more ones.
2:41-My dad makes me race against one of his gas attendants with the ones. I win!
2:48-The electricity goes on and off.
2:49-My dad says fuck a lot.
2:50-I sit outside and watch for cars who want propane.
2:56-I get sent home
2:57-Dad calls and tells me that I need to not be so slow when I work.
The following is an account of my day. The minutes are kind of off because I was using different clocks and they all said different things, but who really gives a fuck?
9:40-I start my day by buying leases and monthly rental agreements at the office supply store.
10:00-Lectured about how I should know more about things like lead paint. I am given a CD about lead paint to watch on my own time to educate myself.
10:20-I go to the post office.
10:24-Told never to bring home the crap ads from the post office ever again.
10:35-My dad makes me lie to an old man and say he is not in the office.
10:36-Tell Dad I am going to hell for him and should get paid more.
10:37-Told by Dad that I'll probably end up in hell for something else first. No raise.
10:40-I get to put 9 bazillion one dollar bills from the soda machines in order so they are all facing the same way.
10:59-Touch a one dollar bill covered in human feces.
11:04-Take a soda order
11:05-Yelled at for being too slow
11:09-I try to take my first order for mushrooms. I get told to wait 2 minutes.
11:11-Still no call about the order.
11:13-Call to pester the man for my mushroom order. He is very alarmed to know that I am even less patient than my dad.
11:15-Get called "Sweetheart" by a man named Bubba. I giggle.
11:23-Get yelled at for trying to take a break to wash the shit off my hand.
11:30-Go to bank
11:40-Apologize to banker who has to count the 9 bazillion ones.
11:50-The gas light goes on in my car and I begin to hyperventilate.
11:50-Gas light goes off. Try to breathe normally.
12:02-Go to post office to cover up the mistake I made the first time I went to the post office.
12:05-Back at the office.
12:07-Introduced to same guy for 9th time.
12:12-The Canada Dry guy comes.
12:40-I fall asleep in my chair with my mouth open.
12:45-Motion sensor buzzes and wakes me up.
1:00-Load soda order onto a pallet.
1:16-Count the soda money from today.
1:19-Yelled at for being too slow.
1:20-Yelled at for my entire generation being too slow. (Thanks everyone)
1:30-Get to add up mushroom sheets on fancy calculator.
1:45-My dad calls his accountant to find out if it's illegal to be paid as little as I am.
1:46-Yelled at for being unemployed and working for peanuts.
1:47-My dad tries to get me to call the intern place so he can "break their balls"
1:51-My dad calls me a secretary. I tell him I'm a receptionist. We settle on receptionist bitch.
2:00-Get an actual compliment!! Am told I have gotten very good at monitoring the security cameras.
2:03-Some guy calls to buy my Jetta. (for sale in front of the gas station) He doesn't speak English. He keeps yelling "Yetta" in my ear. I pull together some Spanish and ask him for his number. He hangs up on me.
2:17-Lecture about how I shouldn't use peoples names when delivering messages. I get confused.
2:30-Try to fix motion sensor. I fail.
2:31-Dad fixes sensor in 3 seconds.
2:35-Yelled at for being too slow.
2:36-Told I wasn't as slow as usual.
2:40-I arrange more ones.
2:41-My dad makes me race against one of his gas attendants with the ones. I win!
2:48-The electricity goes on and off.
2:49-My dad says fuck a lot.
2:50-I sit outside and watch for cars who want propane.
2:56-I get sent home
2:57-Dad calls and tells me that I need to not be so slow when I work.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Oh, Rick Springfield.
Dear Rick Springfield,
Thank you for giving the world Jessie's girl.
Love,
Joanne
PS. You are saying the point is probably moot, right? You get bonus points for that.
Thank you for giving the world Jessie's girl.
Love,
Joanne
PS. You are saying the point is probably moot, right? You get bonus points for that.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
I feel so...
I don't think I can write on this thing on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. All I want to do is write some emo whiny crap about how much I hate this shitty internship and how horrible a mood I am. Actually, maybe I can't write in this any day because I'm usually somewhat depressed and cranky. I whine a lot, but we all know that and have accepted and still love me dearly. Or just put up with me because I sing so well...
I seriously don't think I am ever going to get a job. Plus after this experience I really have no desire to try so fucking hard anymore. Can someone please get successful and need a personal assistant and/or secretary? I'd be really good at it, I have all the super Mom skills without being a Mom. I'm organized, I remember things very well, and if you are a boy, I will wear a v-neck shirt everyday.
2005 is the worst year ever.
I seriously don't think I am ever going to get a job. Plus after this experience I really have no desire to try so fucking hard anymore. Can someone please get successful and need a personal assistant and/or secretary? I'd be really good at it, I have all the super Mom skills without being a Mom. I'm organized, I remember things very well, and if you are a boy, I will wear a v-neck shirt everyday.
2005 is the worst year ever.
Monday, September 26, 2005
Oy.
The priest that was in charge of my elementary school and church, St. Patrick's, until 1991 or 1993 or some year with a 199 in it, is among the priests charged with sexual abuse. There are lots of details in the Inquirer about the priests and charges from the grand jury's report. He allegedly molested two girls who worked in the parish rectory.
It's really weird. I don't remember too much about him except that one time he burped into the microphone a church while giving his homily. He had some health problems. The students really liked him. He also baptised my mom and my sister.
In other news that totally isn't related to what I just wrote, but this is my blog and I can do what I want and anyone who has a problem can just deal with it...I was really nice to a complete stranger the other day just in case I ever got stranded on an island with her. Thanks television for making me a better person! [Insert thumbs up here]
It's really weird. I don't remember too much about him except that one time he burped into the microphone a church while giving his homily. He had some health problems. The students really liked him. He also baptised my mom and my sister.
In other news that totally isn't related to what I just wrote, but this is my blog and I can do what I want and anyone who has a problem can just deal with it...I was really nice to a complete stranger the other day just in case I ever got stranded on an island with her. Thanks television for making me a better person! [Insert thumbs up here]
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
8 More Fake Work Days to Go.
Today I made 32 phone calls in an hour. I am NOT interning in telemarketing though.
I think I'm just going to become the manager of Wendy's or McDonald's or something.
I think I'm just going to become the manager of Wendy's or McDonald's or something.
Monday, September 19, 2005
I can't believe it either.
So, uh...I danced on top of a bar.
I did it for a free shot and a biker tried to give me a dollar and then the DJ called me a quitter for jumping off the bar after I got my free shot.
I also tried to invent my own country line dance. It involved a lot of stomping and clapping and twirling and it was really bad.
I really can't dance. I should work on that.
PS. New Harry Potter trailer. And iPod.
I did it for a free shot and a biker tried to give me a dollar and then the DJ called me a quitter for jumping off the bar after I got my free shot.
I also tried to invent my own country line dance. It involved a lot of stomping and clapping and twirling and it was really bad.
I really can't dance. I should work on that.
PS. New Harry Potter trailer. And iPod.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
My poor boys.
Aww, it's not THAT bad. It's a pop song written by a 10, 13 and 16 year old! Give them some credit.
It is one of my least favorite songs they wrote though.
It is one of my least favorite songs they wrote though.
I hate my job.
Oh my motherfucking god. Remember when I was an intern before and I really liked it? (Except the sitting in the hallway by myself for 2 days a week and with a complete idiot 3 days a week and the no internet parts.) And it was good and I learned a lot and was generally busy.
This new intern thingie is so horrible. I hate it. The company does realllllllly boring stuff. The office in general is really boring. There is no pictures on the wall, no one has any pictures in their offices or on their desks. There is only one window, but no one can see out of it. No one talks to each other. You know it's bad when I am one of the more social people in a group.
I reserved judgment until I did more than one day, but it just got worse. Today I had to stuff copies into plastic sleeves for awhile because there was nothing for me to do. I don't understand why they need an intern at all.
Plus, my mouse for my computer works like my ass. And the R, S and H keys on the keyboard don't really work. You have to slam them. I sit in the hallway again, but it's a better hallway. It's like a central hub hallway.
It's sad that the hour long traffic-y commute is the good part of the day. Oh well, it's only 10 more days and I have a perfectly good excuse regarding commuting time and gas prices and them paying me shit for saying no if they offer me any more days.
This new intern thingie is so horrible. I hate it. The company does realllllllly boring stuff. The office in general is really boring. There is no pictures on the wall, no one has any pictures in their offices or on their desks. There is only one window, but no one can see out of it. No one talks to each other. You know it's bad when I am one of the more social people in a group.
I reserved judgment until I did more than one day, but it just got worse. Today I had to stuff copies into plastic sleeves for awhile because there was nothing for me to do. I don't understand why they need an intern at all.
Plus, my mouse for my computer works like my ass. And the R, S and H keys on the keyboard don't really work. You have to slam them. I sit in the hallway again, but it's a better hallway. It's like a central hub hallway.
It's sad that the hour long traffic-y commute is the good part of the day. Oh well, it's only 10 more days and I have a perfectly good excuse regarding commuting time and gas prices and them paying me shit for saying no if they offer me any more days.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
And then I was 22.
I finally caught up to everyone! (Except Sara) I turned 22 just in time for everyone else to be turning 23. You bastards.
I usually like to reflect about my year on my birthday because I usually have nothing better to do and now that is especially true.
So, I think this year despite the occasional horrible-ness of it was better than my 20th year. That whole "people I love dying thing" stopped. I appreciate that and would like to keep it that way.
(Okay, so Ram just explained to me that really this would have been my 22nd year and last year the 21st since we all start at 0, but I am leaving the ages and years as such and you can change them in your heads.)
Compared to other years, 21 wasn't so bad though. I graduated college. I got my heart broken. I got a makeover. I made a really bad comic book. I realized that tequila is my Kroptonite. Wawa introduced Orange Cream Milk. I threw up in a bathtub. I, apparently, lost weight even though I still weigh the same and wear the same clothes from high school and totally don't see it, but everyone in my family likes to tell me about it... I probably ate my weight in sushi. I sang a lot of Disney songs. I kicked ass at Dr. Mario. I made a meal by myself that wasn't just something I boiled. I moved back into a bedroom that belonged to a long ago version of myself.
I learned a lot too, not from that whole university place though, those Lifetime movie style "life lessons." I learned how to be independent again. I learned about who my friends are and what kind of friend I want to be. I learned that I am not very nice sometimes and that I usually don't realize when I am being not very nice until too late and then I miss out on really good things and really good people. I learned I am a lot more like my father and my mother than I thought. I learned that this is both as scary as I thought and not as scary as I thought.
I have more, but I don't know if my 4 readers are interested. This is a lot more diary-ish than I usually am and I don't know if I want to share everything. A girl needs some mystery, you know. That's how she attracts the fellows, well that, and by giving blowjobs.
Basically, I had some ups and downs, but overall this year wasn't too bad. Thanks to everybody who played a part. Weee!
I usually like to reflect about my year on my birthday because I usually have nothing better to do and now that is especially true.
So, I think this year despite the occasional horrible-ness of it was better than my 20th year. That whole "people I love dying thing" stopped. I appreciate that and would like to keep it that way.
(Okay, so Ram just explained to me that really this would have been my 22nd year and last year the 21st since we all start at 0, but I am leaving the ages and years as such and you can change them in your heads.)
Compared to other years, 21 wasn't so bad though. I graduated college. I got my heart broken. I got a makeover. I made a really bad comic book. I realized that tequila is my Kroptonite. Wawa introduced Orange Cream Milk. I threw up in a bathtub. I, apparently, lost weight even though I still weigh the same and wear the same clothes from high school and totally don't see it, but everyone in my family likes to tell me about it... I probably ate my weight in sushi. I sang a lot of Disney songs. I kicked ass at Dr. Mario. I made a meal by myself that wasn't just something I boiled. I moved back into a bedroom that belonged to a long ago version of myself.
I learned a lot too, not from that whole university place though, those Lifetime movie style "life lessons." I learned how to be independent again. I learned about who my friends are and what kind of friend I want to be. I learned that I am not very nice sometimes and that I usually don't realize when I am being not very nice until too late and then I miss out on really good things and really good people. I learned I am a lot more like my father and my mother than I thought. I learned that this is both as scary as I thought and not as scary as I thought.
I have more, but I don't know if my 4 readers are interested. This is a lot more diary-ish than I usually am and I don't know if I want to share everything. A girl needs some mystery, you know. That's how she attracts the fellows, well that, and by giving blowjobs.
Basically, I had some ups and downs, but overall this year wasn't too bad. Thanks to everybody who played a part. Weee!
Saturday, September 10, 2005
I want to ride my bicycle.
I think I'm going to just say, "Fuck you, people with companies who don't hire me" and start my own business. Perhaps a store where I sell things like um... Or a uh, company that does stuff. Any ideas?
I will totally hire any Drexel class of 2005 grad who has no job yet. To gain employment with me, you just need to write a super short paragraph saying what you can do that is awesome. But if you spell shit wrong, you are totally only going to get like 2 bucks an hour, so watch out!
I had something else I wanted to say here, but I forgot.
I will totally hire any Drexel class of 2005 grad who has no job yet. To gain employment with me, you just need to write a super short paragraph saying what you can do that is awesome. But if you spell shit wrong, you are totally only going to get like 2 bucks an hour, so watch out!
I had something else I wanted to say here, but I forgot.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Thanks Drew.
So, if you search the terms "jugs" "rack" "hooters" and "melons" on Yahoo! the fifth result is for my blog.
I don't know if me writing this makes me higher on that list or not. But Ram did inform me that if you add the words "boobies" or "breasts" to that, I'd sink to number 10. I know I am quite pervy at times, but I really never thought I'd get an honor such as this.
I'd like to thank God and my manager and my publicist and Allah and my baby's daddy and the other baby's daddy, but most of all I'd like to thank Drew. Because of him I received this honor.
I don't know if me writing this makes me higher on that list or not. But Ram did inform me that if you add the words "boobies" or "breasts" to that, I'd sink to number 10. I know I am quite pervy at times, but I really never thought I'd get an honor such as this.
I'd like to thank God and my manager and my publicist and Allah and my baby's daddy and the other baby's daddy, but most of all I'd like to thank Drew. Because of him I received this honor.
Friday, September 02, 2005
I barely made a blip.
I have a weird question. Does anyone else's bones ever hurt? Like a numbing ache throughout your whole skeletal region? Especially in the leg area? An ache so great it wakes you up and keeps you awake for hours?
Anyone?
Please someone say yes so I stop thinking that I am dying of something horrible.
Anyone?
Please someone say yes so I stop thinking that I am dying of something horrible.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Addiction.
I am addicted to reading the Free section on craigslist. It started because I was hoping someone would have a free puppy on there or something, but lately I just read them for something to do.
I don't need anything, but I always click on the links and wonder if I ever will need some of the stuff and if I should act on it now while it's free. Because I am anal retentive, I don't want things like couches or chairs. That just skeeves me out. Instead I consider things like a 7 toed cat or packing peanuts or other assorted crap like magazines, boxes, dishwashers, etc.
Tis a sad life I lead.
I made it to 100 posts. Someone give me a job as a reward, please.
I don't need anything, but I always click on the links and wonder if I ever will need some of the stuff and if I should act on it now while it's free. Because I am anal retentive, I don't want things like couches or chairs. That just skeeves me out. Instead I consider things like a 7 toed cat or packing peanuts or other assorted crap like magazines, boxes, dishwashers, etc.
Tis a sad life I lead.
I made it to 100 posts. Someone give me a job as a reward, please.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Things I Like.
I greatly enjoy tagless tshirts. I know you can just cut the tags out of tshirts on your own in about 1 minute, but sometimes there is that scratchy stub left that still annoys the shit out of me and is possibly more annoying than the whole tag was to begin with. Also, then you can never remember what size the shirt was because of course with that brand you couldn't just buy your normal size, you had to get a different one and you don't know that because you had to cut out the tag made of goddamn steel wool so you could do something else besides itch your fucking neck all day...
I also greatly enjoyed The 40 Year Old Virgin. It was really funny.
I also greatly enjoyed The 40 Year Old Virgin. It was really funny.
Friday, August 26, 2005
I'm going to need a front porch too.
I love how old people have crazy little old people walks. They bounce or slouch or bend their knees funny or do something crazy.
I already have the old lady shoes and the old man pants. I totally can't wait until I have the old crazy person walk. I've already started working on it. Mine will involve dangerously flailing my limbs about.
I already have the old lady shoes and the old man pants. I totally can't wait until I have the old crazy person walk. I've already started working on it. Mine will involve dangerously flailing my limbs about.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
This is for Sara.
As inspired by Sara, here is my sad, uncool list. I am huge nerdy loser. It's official.
The Rolling Stones
Hanson
Hanson
Hanson
Dave Matthews Band
The Rolling Stones
Dave Matthews Band
Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band
Backstreet Boys (It was FREE!)
Q Concert 2000 (I don't remember who was there)
Dave Matthews Band
Hanson
Dave Matthews Band
Y100 Feztival 2001 (Weezer, Barenaked Ladies...)
Sugar Ray
Britney Spears (It was FREE!)
Dashboard Confessional
Saves The Day
Skate and Surf Festival
Skate and Surf Festival
Skate and Surf Festival
Catch 22, The Movielife and Coheed and Cambria
Weezer, Dashboard Confessional
The Rolling Stones
Dashboard Confessional
Counting Crows
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Bright Eyes
Alkaline Trio
Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band
Hanson
Hanson
Hanson
Hanson
Polyphonic Spree
The Weakerthans
The Decemberists
The Rolling Stones (in October)
Hanson (in October)
Fuck, that's a lot of Hanson. If anyone doesn't want to be my friend anymore, I'll understand.
Also, please keep in mind I went to an all girl's Catholic school, it was required there to like Dave Matthews.
The Rolling Stones
Hanson
Hanson
Hanson
Dave Matthews Band
The Rolling Stones
Dave Matthews Band
Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band
Backstreet Boys (It was FREE!)
Q Concert 2000 (I don't remember who was there)
Dave Matthews Band
Hanson
Dave Matthews Band
Y100 Feztival 2001 (Weezer, Barenaked Ladies...)
Sugar Ray
Britney Spears (It was FREE!)
Dashboard Confessional
Saves The Day
Skate and Surf Festival
Skate and Surf Festival
Skate and Surf Festival
Catch 22, The Movielife and Coheed and Cambria
Weezer, Dashboard Confessional
The Rolling Stones
Dashboard Confessional
Counting Crows
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Bright Eyes
Alkaline Trio
Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band
Hanson
Hanson
Hanson
Hanson
Polyphonic Spree
The Weakerthans
The Decemberists
The Rolling Stones (in October)
Hanson (in October)
Fuck, that's a lot of Hanson. If anyone doesn't want to be my friend anymore, I'll understand.
Also, please keep in mind I went to an all girl's Catholic school, it was required there to like Dave Matthews.
Jumpin' Jack Flash.
I got a job. I am going to be an intern again. It's pathetic and not real and only 2 days a week for 6 weeks, but, whatever, at least I'll be doing something. Right...?
However, this time I will be paid dog doo. I don't even want to put my rate here because I am ashamed. I think because of gas prices, I will actually be losing money too. Eh, at least I won't be staring at the wall all day long. Well, at least my basement wall, it'll be some office wall. I think I am screwing myself over in the short run, but hopefully helping myself in the long run.
Hopefully, I will not have to sit in the hallway again like at QVC. Maybe I'll get to be near someone who isn't a complete idiot too.
Today is the anniversary of the day my puppy went away to the farm. :o( I think that I should get a new one. Who wants to buy me one of these for my birthday? They are Jack Russell shorties and I love them. They are one hour away from Bergen County, NJ... (Cough, Ro, cough.)
However, this time I will be paid dog doo. I don't even want to put my rate here because I am ashamed. I think because of gas prices, I will actually be losing money too. Eh, at least I won't be staring at the wall all day long. Well, at least my basement wall, it'll be some office wall. I think I am screwing myself over in the short run, but hopefully helping myself in the long run.
Hopefully, I will not have to sit in the hallway again like at QVC. Maybe I'll get to be near someone who isn't a complete idiot too.
Today is the anniversary of the day my puppy went away to the farm. :o( I think that I should get a new one. Who wants to buy me one of these for my birthday? They are Jack Russell shorties and I love them. They are one hour away from Bergen County, NJ... (Cough, Ro, cough.)
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Lap Dance
Who wants to be my friend?
I have 4 tickets to go see Hanson at the Trocadero in October. Woo.
You know you wanna go so you can watch me shake it (badly) to "Lost Without Each Other."
I have 4 tickets to go see Hanson at the Trocadero in October. Woo.
You know you wanna go so you can watch me shake it (badly) to "Lost Without Each Other."
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
This is my 94th post.
Wow, that's a lot longer than I thought I'd do this thing for. I thought it would be like when I took up... uh, well I never took up anything before. So, 94 is pretty good for me. I'm sure that's a low number for as long as I've had this, but let me have my fucking moment.
Alright, in other news that no one gives a fuck about. I beat Level 3 of Bart Vs. the Space Mutants and have now moved on to Level 4. I think this is the hardest game ever created. Level 4 is insane, there are mummies and rivers and lasers!
One August goal is completed, one to go. It's sad that I totally did the unimportant one first. I know everyone probably thinks I'm a useless bum and stuff like that, but someone has to be the unemployed useless bum. I make everyone else feel better about themselves and that's fine with me.
My new August goal is to have a fun story to share that isn't about television or Nintendo.
Sara and I did manage to pick up old, married men at a bar and get them to buy us beer. Well, I think Sara more picked them up. As we all know, I'm not very nice and don't talk to strangers. It was fun though. I also introduced Sara to Erotic Photo Hunt (Hi Mom!) which she is very good at. We actually finally had one that was missing a boob! It was awesome.
Alright, in other news that no one gives a fuck about. I beat Level 3 of Bart Vs. the Space Mutants and have now moved on to Level 4. I think this is the hardest game ever created. Level 4 is insane, there are mummies and rivers and lasers!
One August goal is completed, one to go. It's sad that I totally did the unimportant one first. I know everyone probably thinks I'm a useless bum and stuff like that, but someone has to be the unemployed useless bum. I make everyone else feel better about themselves and that's fine with me.
My new August goal is to have a fun story to share that isn't about television or Nintendo.
Sara and I did manage to pick up old, married men at a bar and get them to buy us beer. Well, I think Sara more picked them up. As we all know, I'm not very nice and don't talk to strangers. It was fun though. I also introduced Sara to Erotic Photo Hunt (Hi Mom!) which she is very good at. We actually finally had one that was missing a boob! It was awesome.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Lifetime: Television for the Really Bored.
I love how everyone else posts about things they do and stuff that has happened to them and I post about what I watch on TV. It's nothing, but good times being unemployed...
I love Lifetime movies. (Yeah Ro!) They are cheesy and awesome and they teach me great life lessons.
I recently watched the horribly bad movie She's Too Young featuring the sort of recent Oscar winner and nominee, Marcia Gay Harden. It was not as awesomely bad as the masturbation movie, Cyber Seduction: His Secret Life, where a young boy was an outcast for masturbating because he was the only teen boy who did it and all other teens didn't do it and he was disgusting for doing it and his classmates hated him because he masturbated and somehow a girl in his high school class had her own porn site, but she was popular not gross and then the other boys kicked the crap out of him for being such a perv.
Basically, She's Too Young can be summarized by its tagline: To fit In, you've gotta put out. It's all about how girls need to give boys blowjobs in order to be popular. And then the girls get syphilis. And the parents don't care, except Marcia, because they want their girls to be popular so it's okay that they are 14 and have orgies and steal porn and pick up random guys at the coffee house to give head to.
The "hot" guy in the movie must have been like 48 years old and looked like a child molester, but for some reason if you blew him you were instantly cool. You were also cool if you said stuff like "whack" and "girlfriend."
Thus in conclusion: giving blowjobs makes you cool and popular.
I love Lifetime movies. (Yeah Ro!) They are cheesy and awesome and they teach me great life lessons.
I recently watched the horribly bad movie She's Too Young featuring the sort of recent Oscar winner and nominee, Marcia Gay Harden. It was not as awesomely bad as the masturbation movie, Cyber Seduction: His Secret Life, where a young boy was an outcast for masturbating because he was the only teen boy who did it and all other teens didn't do it and he was disgusting for doing it and his classmates hated him because he masturbated and somehow a girl in his high school class had her own porn site, but she was popular not gross and then the other boys kicked the crap out of him for being such a perv.
Basically, She's Too Young can be summarized by its tagline: To fit In, you've gotta put out. It's all about how girls need to give boys blowjobs in order to be popular. And then the girls get syphilis. And the parents don't care, except Marcia, because they want their girls to be popular so it's okay that they are 14 and have orgies and steal porn and pick up random guys at the coffee house to give head to.
The "hot" guy in the movie must have been like 48 years old and looked like a child molester, but for some reason if you blew him you were instantly cool. You were also cool if you said stuff like "whack" and "girlfriend."
Thus in conclusion: giving blowjobs makes you cool and popular.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Things I Think About..
I really wish I knew how to tap dance. I think that would be really cool. Especially if I got involved in a tap dance challenge and there was a big giant tap dance showdown.
That would be awesome.
That would be awesome.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Oh, Gmail.
Today I got the greatest Gmail ad ever.
The Original Fecalgram
Anonymously send them a box of poop and see their reaction online.
fecalgram.com
I'm scared to go to the site. Someone go for me. Please...
The Original Fecalgram
Anonymously send them a box of poop and see their reaction online.
fecalgram.com
I'm scared to go to the site. Someone go for me. Please...
Monday, August 08, 2005
If I didn't complain all the time, I'd have nothing to say.
I needed to write something and I didn't know what else to say. This is what you are going to get and you better like it.
I pretty much feel like I'm going to vomit all the time. Is that an ulcer? I looked it up on WebMD, but the information about ulcer says "stool" a lot and it just makes me laugh. When I looked up "stomach pain" most of the results were about pregnancy.
My personal diagnosis is that I'm going to die eventually and until then I will just feel vomitous a lot and whine a lot and you all will love and appreciate me and relish in my awesomeness. (Remember: I am extra super awesome because I once saw Frankie Muniz rock out to MMMBop and play the drums.) Or everyone will just tell me to shut up and beat me. I vote for Plan A.
My exciting goals for the month of August include:
1. Beat Level 3 of Bart VS. the Space Mutants.
2. Get one of those job things everyone has but me.
That is the excitment y'all have to look forward to reading about. How can you stand it?
I pretty much feel like I'm going to vomit all the time. Is that an ulcer? I looked it up on WebMD, but the information about ulcer says "stool" a lot and it just makes me laugh. When I looked up "stomach pain" most of the results were about pregnancy.
My personal diagnosis is that I'm going to die eventually and until then I will just feel vomitous a lot and whine a lot and you all will love and appreciate me and relish in my awesomeness. (Remember: I am extra super awesome because I once saw Frankie Muniz rock out to MMMBop and play the drums.) Or everyone will just tell me to shut up and beat me. I vote for Plan A.
My exciting goals for the month of August include:
1. Beat Level 3 of Bart VS. the Space Mutants.
2. Get one of those job things everyone has but me.
That is the excitment y'all have to look forward to reading about. How can you stand it?
Friday, July 29, 2005
Jelly Beans.
I really like Jelly Belly jelly beans. Me and Christina used to go buy a big bag at the grocery store all the time and eat them. That's an exciting story, I know.
But anyway, if you go to the Jelly Belly site you can do some trivia and get free jelly beans. I did it and enjoyed some free candy, but now I get email updates from them. Which isn't too bad they don't send stuff too often.
Today I got an email announcing Sport Beans:
Formulated to fuel your body during exercise with carbohydrates, electrolytes, and vitamins C and E, our brand new Sport BeansTM jelly beans provide your body with energy. Coming in Lemon Lime and Orange, Sport Beans fit the needs of anyone looking for a fast, great-tasting burst of energy.
So, uh, now apparently you can eat jelly beans and be an Olympian. It's a very Ram idea.
But anyway, if you go to the Jelly Belly site you can do some trivia and get free jelly beans. I did it and enjoyed some free candy, but now I get email updates from them. Which isn't too bad they don't send stuff too often.
Today I got an email announcing Sport Beans:
Formulated to fuel your body during exercise with carbohydrates, electrolytes, and vitamins C and E, our brand new Sport BeansTM jelly beans provide your body with energy. Coming in Lemon Lime and Orange, Sport Beans fit the needs of anyone looking for a fast, great-tasting burst of energy.
So, uh, now apparently you can eat jelly beans and be an Olympian. It's a very Ram idea.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
I miss Florida.
In case anyone ever questioned how much of a princess I am this is the view I would wake up to in Florida.
It is a million times better than the view of the major highway I wake up to in Kennett Square.
In Florida, there is even an alligator to look at sometimes in that lake/pond/body of water behind our pool.
Monday, July 25, 2005
And so it goes.
Wow, it's been awhile. I went to Florida for a week with my 2 cousins and my aunt. I got a tan. My cousin Domenica got shit on by a bird and I decided that I should probably get puppies instead of having children.
I was scheduled to leave Philadelphia at 3:45 and arrive at Tampa at like 6:15. I think I got there at about 9:30-9:45. I had to sit on the plane on the runway forever. If there is lightning within 5 miles of the airport, you aren't allowed to fly out until 15 minutes goes by without lightning. This delays all planes and causes a huge backup and then US Airways was stupid and we had been waiting in the wrong line of planes and we had to go get in another line to depart. It was very painful and the plane was full and I had a middle seat and I just wanted to read Harry Potter. But, alas, that did not happen. Instead I got to sit next to Cracky McTalks-a-lot.
In the airport, I see this woman who looks somewhat insane and kinda dirty yelling on the payphones by our flight and in my head I was like "Great, I am going to have to sit next to her" and of course, I did. And of course, she was a talker. She opened the conversation by telling me her carry on bag was filled with dirt from
her son's grave.
Basically we were stuck on the runway for about 3 hoursish while we went through tons of bullshit airplane/lightning stuff. During the next painful hours of my life she proceeded to tell me her life story. She is a recovering crack addict (hence why she probably only had like 4 teeth on top and none on the bottom) who works in
Construction management from her home. She has a boyfriend who she loves very much, but only sees like twice a month. She has a teacup chihuahua.
Her son was 23 and suffered a massive coronary whilst driving and died. Which was really sad and I felt horrible for her so I asked some questions. I really wish I hadn't though... She believes that his 16 year old girlfriend gave him heroin, and fought with him so he would die. She then outlined to me how she was going to kill the girl. "I'm going to fucking cut that cunt from head to toe. First, I'm going to slit her throat and let her suffer for awhile..." She hopes that when the girl is dead she will either get custody of their one year old baby or be in jail.
This woman had no sense of how loud she was talking either. Everyone in the plane could hear her. I wanted to die. She smelt funny too and she kept leaning close to me to talk. I think my favorite part was when she offered me a Xanax. She pulled two pills OUT OF HER BRA and tried to make me take one. I told her I couldn't swallow pills.
She also told me where to buy crack at in Delaware and asked me if I knew where the [insert horrible racist word for African Americans here] lived because that is where I could get some crack real cheap. She told me that lately she has been smoking cigarettes two or three at a time to keep herself busy. Oh yeah, and she was also quizzing me on what kind of drugs people do now. She was asking me if we still snorted air catridges. I'm not sure but I assumed she meant those thingies that you buy to make whipped cream with. I don't remember what they are called. Someone tell me. She also asked if I knew what kind of stuff was sold at pharmacies that could give you a rush. I debated telling her I was Mormon or something so she would stop asking me about drugs, but after enough "I don't know" responses from me, she gave up. She also made some lovely comments about fat people. Basically, she felt they should not be allowed on planes, buses, trains, etc. with "normal" people.
She was a sad lady and she was living a sad life. I did feel bad for her, but mostly she just made me really uncomfortable during the whole flight especially the murder plotting and the racist comments.
I want to go back to Florida. But I think I need to drive or something else next time.
I was scheduled to leave Philadelphia at 3:45 and arrive at Tampa at like 6:15. I think I got there at about 9:30-9:45. I had to sit on the plane on the runway forever. If there is lightning within 5 miles of the airport, you aren't allowed to fly out until 15 minutes goes by without lightning. This delays all planes and causes a huge backup and then US Airways was stupid and we had been waiting in the wrong line of planes and we had to go get in another line to depart. It was very painful and the plane was full and I had a middle seat and I just wanted to read Harry Potter. But, alas, that did not happen. Instead I got to sit next to Cracky McTalks-a-lot.
In the airport, I see this woman who looks somewhat insane and kinda dirty yelling on the payphones by our flight and in my head I was like "Great, I am going to have to sit next to her" and of course, I did. And of course, she was a talker. She opened the conversation by telling me her carry on bag was filled with dirt from
her son's grave.
Basically we were stuck on the runway for about 3 hoursish while we went through tons of bullshit airplane/lightning stuff. During the next painful hours of my life she proceeded to tell me her life story. She is a recovering crack addict (hence why she probably only had like 4 teeth on top and none on the bottom) who works in
Construction management from her home. She has a boyfriend who she loves very much, but only sees like twice a month. She has a teacup chihuahua.
Her son was 23 and suffered a massive coronary whilst driving and died. Which was really sad and I felt horrible for her so I asked some questions. I really wish I hadn't though... She believes that his 16 year old girlfriend gave him heroin, and fought with him so he would die. She then outlined to me how she was going to kill the girl. "I'm going to fucking cut that cunt from head to toe. First, I'm going to slit her throat and let her suffer for awhile..." She hopes that when the girl is dead she will either get custody of their one year old baby or be in jail.
This woman had no sense of how loud she was talking either. Everyone in the plane could hear her. I wanted to die. She smelt funny too and she kept leaning close to me to talk. I think my favorite part was when she offered me a Xanax. She pulled two pills OUT OF HER BRA and tried to make me take one. I told her I couldn't swallow pills.
She also told me where to buy crack at in Delaware and asked me if I knew where the [insert horrible racist word for African Americans here] lived because that is where I could get some crack real cheap. She told me that lately she has been smoking cigarettes two or three at a time to keep herself busy. Oh yeah, and she was also quizzing me on what kind of drugs people do now. She was asking me if we still snorted air catridges. I'm not sure but I assumed she meant those thingies that you buy to make whipped cream with. I don't remember what they are called. Someone tell me. She also asked if I knew what kind of stuff was sold at pharmacies that could give you a rush. I debated telling her I was Mormon or something so she would stop asking me about drugs, but after enough "I don't know" responses from me, she gave up. She also made some lovely comments about fat people. Basically, she felt they should not be allowed on planes, buses, trains, etc. with "normal" people.
She was a sad lady and she was living a sad life. I did feel bad for her, but mostly she just made me really uncomfortable during the whole flight especially the murder plotting and the racist comments.
I want to go back to Florida. But I think I need to drive or something else next time.
Friday, July 15, 2005
The birds and the bats.
Yesterday, I went to Target with my mother because that is what people who are unemployed and live with their mother do. Anyway on the way there were all these birds just flying in front of the car and being pretty risky for birds. My mother said how she has hit 2 birds with her car in the past year and she has been driving for X amount of years and she never hit one before. I remember Sara and I almost hit one too back in like June-ish.
When did birds lose their fear of cars and being hit by humans? They are just mocking us now. They know we won't hurt them and they are just fucking with us.
After we discussed birds my mom brought up our old neighbor Pruitt. He used to live next door to us when I was...in first or second grade? I don't remember. Pruitt is responsible for my cool Mickey Mouse tee shirt from Nashville. He gave it to my sister and she didn't want it so I got it. I bet no one ever thought that shirt would last like 15 years. At least, I think it was Pruitt. It might have been the people who lived there after him, but I don't think it was because they didn't live there too long. Although, we did have a Zorro club. I have no idea why we had a Zorro club, but we did.
But anyway, Pruitt used to make us go bat hunting every night. Which at the time was so cool, but as we learned from the Love Potion No. 9 incident, Little Joanne was an IDIOT.
Basically bat hunting consisted of getting some rocks, the best ones fit in the palm of your hand, and walking through the neighborhood throwing them up at bats. Oh, but how does one attract a bat you may ask. It's quite simple, you just make this horrid "Eeeeeeeeee" sound over and over and then throw the rocks up in the air. I'm surprised no one lost an eye.
I will make that bat noise upon request, by the way.
When did birds lose their fear of cars and being hit by humans? They are just mocking us now. They know we won't hurt them and they are just fucking with us.
After we discussed birds my mom brought up our old neighbor Pruitt. He used to live next door to us when I was...in first or second grade? I don't remember. Pruitt is responsible for my cool Mickey Mouse tee shirt from Nashville. He gave it to my sister and she didn't want it so I got it. I bet no one ever thought that shirt would last like 15 years. At least, I think it was Pruitt. It might have been the people who lived there after him, but I don't think it was because they didn't live there too long. Although, we did have a Zorro club. I have no idea why we had a Zorro club, but we did.
But anyway, Pruitt used to make us go bat hunting every night. Which at the time was so cool, but as we learned from the Love Potion No. 9 incident, Little Joanne was an IDIOT.
Basically bat hunting consisted of getting some rocks, the best ones fit in the palm of your hand, and walking through the neighborhood throwing them up at bats. Oh, but how does one attract a bat you may ask. It's quite simple, you just make this horrid "Eeeeeeeeee" sound over and over and then throw the rocks up in the air. I'm surprised no one lost an eye.
I will make that bat noise upon request, by the way.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Foooood.
I had the best meal of my life the other night. Juan took me to Morimoto and it was delicious. We got this chef sampler sort of thing where they bring you 8 courses of whatever they want. The first course looked very scary, it was like a pink lump in this red juice with caviar on it, but it was one of the best things I've ever eaten and something I would never have tried normally. The rest of the courses were very good too. There was salmon, beef, halibut, sushi and some other stuff I don't remember. We also drank sake from a bamboo carafe. Juan and I failed at being sophisticated though because we didn't know how to pronounce carafe. I think it was the best date like thing I have ever been on. So, yay for Juan and for Morimoto.
I also had a very good weekend too. I like the fun. I got to hang out with Heather on Saturday which was very excellent because I haven't hung out with her in about 96 years. I frightened her with my dancing.
In other news, I am still looking for a job. I am also in a "transitional" period in my life. Times they are a-changin'.
I also had a very good weekend too. I like the fun. I got to hang out with Heather on Saturday which was very excellent because I haven't hung out with her in about 96 years. I frightened her with my dancing.
In other news, I am still looking for a job. I am also in a "transitional" period in my life. Times they are a-changin'.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Hold me closer Tiny Dancer.
Well...
Today I did something I never did before and never want to do again. I actually threw up whilst driving down the highway. I had a plastic bag, but of course, the bag had a hole in it. I finally found somewhere to pull off the road so I could vomit on the grass instead of myself.
And yes, it was as disgusting as it sounds. I have never felt so ill in my life.
Fourth of July was very cool though. I got to sit outside the Art Museum and hang out with people. It's nice that even though I graduated college and live at home, I still get to see people and hang out and do cool stuff. I like the doing of cool stuff with cool people.
I also made a new friend. I met a nice lady at the Port-a-Potty which I had to use. Twice. She told me she wished she had some toilet paper to give me, so I think she liked me as well. Yay for moms. I almost died in the bathroom. When it's dark out, those things are pitch black inside.
Elton John was very good. He obliged Drew's drunken request to play Tiny Dancer and then we all had a nice and drunken moment of swaying that had many almost falls. I wish he would have played more, but what he did play was good.
Hmm, that might be all I got. I know other stuff happened, but I think I'm too lazy to type it. And hey! I don't think I complained once in this entry! Did I? Yay for me! (Unless I did...)
Today I did something I never did before and never want to do again. I actually threw up whilst driving down the highway. I had a plastic bag, but of course, the bag had a hole in it. I finally found somewhere to pull off the road so I could vomit on the grass instead of myself.
And yes, it was as disgusting as it sounds. I have never felt so ill in my life.
Fourth of July was very cool though. I got to sit outside the Art Museum and hang out with people. It's nice that even though I graduated college and live at home, I still get to see people and hang out and do cool stuff. I like the doing of cool stuff with cool people.
I also made a new friend. I met a nice lady at the Port-a-Potty which I had to use. Twice. She told me she wished she had some toilet paper to give me, so I think she liked me as well. Yay for moms. I almost died in the bathroom. When it's dark out, those things are pitch black inside.
Elton John was very good. He obliged Drew's drunken request to play Tiny Dancer and then we all had a nice and drunken moment of swaying that had many almost falls. I wish he would have played more, but what he did play was good.
Hmm, that might be all I got. I know other stuff happened, but I think I'm too lazy to type it. And hey! I don't think I complained once in this entry! Did I? Yay for me! (Unless I did...)
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Live 8
Live 8 was pretty cool. I may have watched a majority of it on a laptop in air conditioning, but I was also there for a good chunk of it too. I think it's pretty cool that I was at both Live Aid and Live 8. My children will be impressed by my coolness even though I was unable to form memories at the first one. Go look at Ram's blog for some pictures.
It's nice to do stuff.
Hire me!
PS. For all those who were concerned, I finally bought a new belt. Now my pants stay up and you won't have to see my underwear/ass anymore.
It's nice to do stuff.
Hire me!
PS. For all those who were concerned, I finally bought a new belt. Now my pants stay up and you won't have to see my underwear/ass anymore.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Grr.
I really fucking hate people that don't use their turn signals. It really pisses me and Smitty 2.0 off. It's not that hard people, just flick the god damn stick up or down.
I don't like my car and I will hit you and your stupid SUV with it.
I don't like my car and I will hit you and your stupid SUV with it.
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