I’ve gone and done it again… September 11, 2009

Entitled: Self Portrait for the Occasion

I have no clue how I ever manage to make friends.  Or work in retail.  Or function at all.  Because I am terrified of people.  I will sometimes find any excuse I can find not to be with people, even some of my very best friends.  This is pretty much how all my friendships that have ended ended.  Sometimes I’m strong, and I push myself, and I will be honest that that has led to many amazing things (Hi, Wench Posse).  But a lot of times, I am made of suck.

Like tonight.

The Hippy went out to smoke, because he’s gross like that.  I doubt I had even really noticed that he was gone (it happens so frequently…) when I received a text that he was across the alley.  He’s developed a friendship with the guy over there, which is awesome, because it’s nice to have allies…  A few minutes later, he sent another message that I should go over.  Excuse time.  “I just put in a movie.”  Which was, incidentally, true.  I’d just put in The Emperor’s New Groove because recent llama talk got me jonesin’.  But really, it’s a DVD.  I can watch it any time.  I just didn’t feel comfortable going over there.

Just a few minutes ago…  About 2.5 hours from the first time he told me to come out, he came in and told me to come out again.  Again I protested, this time telling him the truth.  He kept saying that the guy was really nice (I don’t doubt that, I’ve met him briefly, and The Hippy has always had good things to say about him).  And I kept saying that I feel really stupid because I never talk and that weirds people out.  It’s not easy to explain to people why I don’t talk.  It’s easier just to say that I’m a fabric ninja.  (As far as I know, there is no real “reason” why I don’t talk.  Mostly I never developed the small talk skill, but fabric ninja is cooler sounding than “I don’t know.”)

So now, I’m sitting in my living room, watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, feeling like an idiot.  I don’t really believe in medication… Something about ignoring underlying problems and just covering things up while poisoning the body….  (Remember, despite his nickname, I’m the hippie around here…)  However, I could go for some anxiety meds about now.

Misc around the house August 24, 2009

Life is all work work work, play a little, go to the cabin a little, work some more.  The weeks keep flying by, and I have no idea where they’re going.  It’s funny how life at work can seem like it’s going so freaking slow, but then I turn around and the summer is over.  My birthday is in exactly two weeks, and no matter how old I get, that still means school is just around the corner.  Summer has been relatively good to me, though, despite all that working business and the speeding by business.

Bountiful harvest.  I would say that I have more cucumbers than I know what to do with, but I can easily eat on of these in a sitting.  They do not go to waste.  I might, however, end up with more tomatoes than I can handle, but I have some great recipes in mind.  I will have to work fast, though!

There is an airport nearish my house (not only has my official address been the same block my entire life, but I’ve also lived near an airport my entire life.  And a train track.  It’s a requirement), so there is always interesting aircraft flying around my neighborhood.  I made a rare trip outside of my house for something other than work last weekend, and was thankful I had randomly decided to pack my camera in my purse the night before.  As it turns out, I NEVER carry my camera around.  I just don’t ever think to take pictures.  But I managed to get a picture of the Good Year Blimp while I was driving.  I’m pretty sure I took that picture at a stop light, because the ones actually taken while moving turned out poorly.

That lovely vision of shit greets me every time I step out of my house.  My neighbors are absolute rubbish, and their lawn reflects it.  This picture was taken (by the Hippy while I was gone; apparently my camera was more convenient) on a particularly bad day.  Turns out my neighbor and her children are moving!  Hooray!  Oh, but wait.  Her sister is moving in instead.  WTF? (or FTW? if you’re a wench)  So, sadly, it will be the same shit, same people, same nonsense.

Okay, summer has been MOSTLY good to me.  With the exception of the neighbor thing.  I also got a new washer–no pictures, because, well, it’s a washer–for nearly free.  It was in the renter’s side because it was “broken,” according to the woman who sold the house.  Hippy figured out what was wrong, got a $60 part for it, and WHAMO!  Even better washer than the one I’d been using.

My Ass Needs Kicking June 26, 2009

And it won’t be hard, because the target seems to be getting bigger every day.  Which is why I’m entering the giveaway on Frugal Upstate to win an EA Sports Active for Wii.  I’m blogging about it, you know, just in case someone else is interested.  But secretly I’d like no one else to enter so I have a better chance of winning.

Then again, if I don’t win, I’ll just go out and buy it for myself.  Living with a boy is killing my waistline.  And I’d rather buy an electronic trainer than new jeans.  And I’m getting way too close to needing new jeans.

The spirit of giving June 18, 2009

I feel so torn.  Last year I donated to America’s Second Harvest (now Feeding America) because at the time Kraft was doubling everyone’s donations.  I thought it was awesome, and I firmly believe in donating even when times are tough, so this was a good way to make the most of my money.  But god damn am I sick of all the junk mail I’ve gotten as a result.  I get at least three “send us money!” letters a week.

The Hippy doesn’t understand why it upsets me so much…  Well, for starters, I’m offended that America’s Second Harvest not only asks for money from people, but then turns around and sells their information to get more money.  Secondly, the charities that bought my information could be spending that money on the people/animals/plants they are trying to help.  Thirdly, I now have to waste extra time shredding up all that junk mail.

Alas, charitywatch.org gives Feeding America an A.  I mean, I’m not upset about that or anything.  I’m sure the work they do is great.  It just means you can’t really trust that rating for everything.  I’m sure they don’t take that into account when they make their rating.  The best thing to do, perhaps, is make sure you read the FAQs on the charity website.

Next time, I’m donating to Heifer International.  I decided to link that directly to the page where they say they won’t sell your information.  It’s a charity I’ve always been fond of, so I really should have just donated to them in the first place.  It’ll be food shelf donations (of actual food, not money) from now on to help hunger.

For the record, you REALLY have to dig on Feeding America’s website to find the part where they say they’ll sell your information.  Only they use the term “share.”  We’re all taught that sharing is good, right?

On Living With a Boy.. June 9, 2009

The Hippy hates it when I throw away the chip pieces from chip bags.  Or at least that’s what he said; he could very well have been kidding, as he often is.  But seriously… this takes the cake:

Found, chip-clipped, on the counter

Hmm, maybe that’s not clear enough…

How's that?

I mean… I ate what was left in the bag… But why not just use the rest or throw them away.  It’s not like milk which would spill out of the glass if you put in those last two sips.  No… he was making nachos.  Plenty of room on the plate for that!

A gentle reminder… May 27, 2009

While going through the blogs listed on the Sew Mama Sew Giveaway Day list, I was reminded of a very important thing.

Playlists are for iPods, personal computers, and the occasional mix tape/cd.  They are not for unsuspecting visitors to your blog who may or may not be listening to their own music on Pandora or trying to watch Once Upon a Time in Mexico.  Especially when said visitor also has nine other blogs open in different tabs because she’s trying to get through a major list of blogs giving away great stuff.

Seriously, kids.  At least make the music optional.  Don’t make it start the second your page loads, or I will click away as fast as I can.  I will not add you to my RSS feed (even though my RSS feed doesn’t play the music), and I will not sign up for your giveaway.  If that’s a chance you’re willing to take, by all means… But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

And yes, the same is true even if you happen to be playing music I adore.

I almost don’t know how to read these numbers May 6, 2009

The American Dream

I’m reading Bill Bryson’s I’m a Stranger Here Myself.  It is, in fact, a pretty awesome book for a number of reasons.  First, Bill Bryson is a great writer.  I first encountered him when reading The Mother Tongue for a liguistics class in college.  He’s funny, insightful, and wicked smart.  Second, it’s a collection of newspaper columns he wrote after returning to the US after 20 years in Britain.  This means that I can read “chapters” quickly and find a stopping point easily.  I feel as if I’m flying through this book because I’m already on 14!  Fourteen!  With no effort at all!  Third, it’s giving me a new way to look at everything I take for granted.

“Chapter” 14 is called The Numbers Game.  It’s about large numbers.  This book was published in 1999, but presumably these columns were written around 1996.  In this chapter he mentions the National Debt Clock in New York.

If you remember, last year the clock had to do away with the dollar sign in order to add another diget.  If you don’t live in New York, you can keep track of the National Debt here.  When Bill wrote his column, the national debt was $4,533,603,804,000.  The debt has nearly tripled in 13 years.  Sort of takes the guessing out of why everyone is in finacial freakout these days.

This debt includes everything–not just credit cards.  I’m sure my personal debt is far lower than most people’s.  I have no credit card debt, and have never in my life carried a balance more than a couple months.  I do have student loans, and while I think they are completely excessive (by my standards), I know that they could be worse, and no one can reposses my education, blah blah blah.  But still, debt frightens me, and it frightens me even more to see a number as huge as $11 trillion.  Trillion.

I’m going to bury my head in my book again, and hopefully speed through the trillion chapter.  It would truly be lovely to see that dollar sign come back to the clock.  Think it will ever happen?

Didn’t sleep a wink… April 27, 2009

…last night.  Or at least it felt like it.  I obviously did, because I dreamed, but I’m sure I spent equal time asleep and awake.  You know that feeling when you’re worried you won’t wake up for something important, so you fret about it all night?  Yeah.  That was last night.  What was my something important?  Showering.

I shower at night.  I hate showering in the morning.  It doesn’t “wake me up” or “energize me.”  It makes me cranky because I have to wake up early.  And since I refuse to wake up much earlier, I end up going to work with wet hair.  I also hate blow drying hair.  A lot.

I’d put off showering all weekend because I was running around.  I was determined to shower last night, but The Hippy and his dad had to shut the water off to fix something in the renter’s bathroom.  By the time the water was turned back on, it was late and I didn’t feel like being in the shower or just getting out of the shower as his dad was leaving.  So I decided I would shower this morning.

All night I was dreaming about waking up or my alarm or showering.  I heard my alarm go off in one dream, so of course I woke up.  Checked the time… I still had two hours to sleep.  I don’t know where my alarm sound came from–that typically only happens in a dream when the sound is actually occurring in real life.  Then later I dreamt I was at work about to go on my 15 minute break.  So I told my boss I had to hurry so I could hop in the shower.  Apparently in dreamland, everyone showers at work, because no one was at all shocked.  So I went to the break room to eat something first, but apparently everyone else in the room was finishing up eating the same time I was, and they all had to pee.

Suddenly the coworker I was talking to turned into my old college roommate.  She told me that there was another shower “not in the room, but in the room.”  Thoroughly confused, I left the breakroom/dorm area and promptly woke up.  It was still awhile before my alarm would go off, so I spent the rest of the time tossing and turning.  I am now successfully showered, but entirely uninterested in going to work.  Of course, this *is* supposed to be my day off.  Stupid craft sale on Saturday cutting into my time off.

Stay Back Stay a Live! March 12, 2009

I had to stare at a school bus with that written in the dust on the back exit door.  I had to stare at it for a very, very long time today.  Longer than anyone, let alone an editing freak should have to stare at “Stay a Live.”

I had to stare at it because I decided to take a new route home today.  Let me amend this by saying I adore this new route.  It drives through a little neighborhood that I, for some reason, feel incredibly drawn to.  Like if The Hippie and I were to move again tomorrow, that’s where I’d move.  If I could afford it.  Which I probably can’t.  It reminds me of many of the places I’ve called home, regardless of whether I’ve lived there or not.  It has the best of nearly every world.  Everything close by, quaint mainstreet, gorgeous boulevards and houses, and a train.

There are two things I require of a place in order to feel like home.  Airplanes and trains.  I grew up within a stones throw of both a train track and an airport, and those sounds are comforting to me.

I do not, however, like getting stuck waiting for a train to go by.  Which is where I found myself today, staring at the back of the bus.  I should have known better.  There always seemed to be a train going over the highway when I went home at 3.  But I didn’t even think about the fact that this route would take me over, not under, the tracks.

Don’t get me wrong.  I find trains fascinating.  But this train was obscenely long.  Which is always fun when your gas tank is almost on E, no?

I need a garage March 9, 2009

I kid you not, folks.  The second I get a garage, or even a shed, I am getting this:

I recently drove through a suburb on my way to work, and my desire to own that exact scooter went up tenfold.  Compound that with the fact that I’m sure gas prices will go up again eventually…  Want.

I know last year I said I would hold of because of insurance, but I think the insurance would be cheaper than what I spend on gas.  Plus it’s so pretty, haha.  According to reviews it’s highly rated.  It’s got great oomph, which means I could take it on the freeway if I wanted, but I wouldn’t want.

It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, though.  My truck is still kicking, and while it doesn’t get the best gas milage, I love it dearly and really hate driving cars.  I’m sure I would get used to driving a car, but I find them uncomfortable because I’m so damn short.  A scooter would at least give me a quarter to a third of the year with better gas milage, without having to give up my truck.  But like I said… I need a garage… or a shed… first.