So there I was... surrounded.... by suffering of an empty heart. I decided to write this blog because I know its a little soon for me to replace my new phone, but I'm a bit needy at the moment and I don't want you judging me.
I know many of you think that sometimes losing a phone is not a big deal, especially my crappy phone but let me tell you, just like i told my boyfriend, "I'VE HAD A RELATIONSHIP WITH THAN PHONE LONGER THAN MY DOG, I'll deal with this how I deal with it."
We've been through ALOT together. It's a big deal. Here's why:
1) I mean, even when we separated because I thought I would upgrade and move on - those upgrades wouldn't last. It was like my energy took over and they couldn't handle it. So I, sometimes shamefully, returned to my true blue. But my phone always forgave me, and we moved on.
2) It was like a year book that knew all my friends. It had numbers of my friends from high school that I would only talk to when I mistakenly called OR when I was shit faced and realized they were on my phone. I don't think it's that bad that we don't talk, our lives are different, but my phone was the one keeping us together. How thoughtful is that?
3) It's my college phone. I've memorized every button on its face, it knows all my non-predictive most used words. I knew its funky little things, probably because of my dropping it quite a bit, and it knew how I preferred my set up. I mean, that's a dance that time is the only teacher.
So it's ok if I'm having a hard time letting go. It's a natural step, but don't push me, and don't ask me to NOT have these feelings. I'm working on it and y'know give me space. I'll move on in my own time, and I will find a good phone, one that will treat me with the respect that I deserve and will provide me with better applications and internet access... but right now, right now... I just need a rebound phone.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Grinding my teeth....
So there I was... surrounded.... by boxes and moving equipment and it occurs to me: I hate this.
Now, if you know me, you know I move around pretty consistently every year or two, so it would seem that this would be something I would at least get used to and not hate with a passion... nope (shaking head), I still loathe it. I hate moving other people's stuff MORE than my own because I can't even through away their shit. (Though I love my sister dearly - she's the one I helped move - it's a personal thing and has nothing to do with her... love you len.)
It's the putting stuff in boxes, trying to play tetris with ceramics, and finding shit that I would totally throw away and I CANNOT because it's not mine... I mean you learn alot about people when you move them....
1) When was the last time they went through their freezer.
2) How many clothes they REALLY have (shoes included)
3) What sentimental or "important" documents really need to be kept... (this reminds me of an old roommate who kept all paperwork for like 5 years... for no reason, just in case)
4) Fetishes
DO NOT get me started on people with knick knacks... I FREAKIN HATE those... I want to grab all of them and break and burn them in the backyard while I chant naked to the GODS of broken precious moment dolls.
Me? well, I know I have annoying habits... I keep notebooks. Empty ones, and pretty paper... or just lined paper. I DON'T KNOW WHY. I think deep down if the apocalypse came, I would have all the paper in the world and that gives me INFINITE POWER!!! or I just like paper... who knows? I try throwing it away. I stare at it and put it in the waste basket, but I'm like, that is such a waste... I could USE that (which all hoarders say I'm sure).
I'm a cookbook pack rat.I love them, to a point of obsession. I like looking at food... I don't need to cook it to know that it is delicious, (not that I would because I don't cook THAT often...) I just need to see it, and know that somewhere in the world, someone made this and died of joy. If by chance I need a recipe for eel, I got it... why use the internet when I can go through 25 cookbooks (WITH PICTURES!) to find it.
Ok, I'll move on because I'm thinking about all the moving and I'm started to want to go on a rampage and get arrested in the backyard.
Anyway, after all the moving this weekend, it felt good to just get it over with. The unpacking doesn't really bother me, it's like christmas with your own stuff. :) My sister, bro-in-law and me head out and I lost/got my phone stolen at a gas station in Naples.
I HATE loosing stuff. I HATE HATE HATE people that steal stuff... and my phone is old. I mean I've had it longer than my dog. Yes, it's old, I get it... I'm an old person that gets cranky about technology, "hey woodchucks, stop chuckin' my wood" but I don't NEED a lot of stuff on my phone. I call and text. That's it.
NOW WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD STEAL MY PHONE? Children's play phones have more options on their phones than mine. I know, I've played with them. I mean, it doesn't even have cool stuff like awesome games. I might have snake. WHO IS SO DESPERATE FOR A PHONE THAT THEY WOULD STEAL MINE? You can get a nicer phone for $.97 at WALMART with a two year activation fee. (I know, I looked.) This is like moving, it's stupid that I kept it, but it was mine, and it had EXTREME EMOTIONAL VALUE. I'm still kinda ticked about that. The ONE pciture of my dog was PRICELESS... I will NEVER get it back... and for that stranger that stole my phone instead of returning it to the front counter, I hope you trip and break your nose so that Michael Jackson will make fun of you, or get herpes.
Which leads me to the last thing I HATE that this weekend caused. I realized I need another job because with all this moving and needing to replace phones... it all costs money...
Cover letters. I hate cover letters more than a mayo based sauce (I'm not going to say mayo because I hate that more but a mayo based sauce is equally as distasteful). I really sit there trying to think of ways to say I deserve this job and this is what I come up with:
Dear Employer,
I'm awesome.
Respectfully amazing,
me.
That's all they want to hear anyway. or:
Dear The Man,
I can do this job better than most. Pay me a lot.
Thank me,
me.
It's like the cover letter dance is worse than the first date dance because, you have to put everything out there but then what surprises do you have to come back with. Personally, I do better with interviews (on occasion, I've had the "I really should keep my mouth shut" moments.) I need to make people laugh, that's just my thing... But seriously, its as bad as eHarmony except you DON'T get a face shot.
Grrr... this blog sucks. I know because I just got charged by a fat dachshund who's face looks at me with me great disappointment. She almost knocked me off my chair.
Now, if you know me, you know I move around pretty consistently every year or two, so it would seem that this would be something I would at least get used to and not hate with a passion... nope (shaking head), I still loathe it. I hate moving other people's stuff MORE than my own because I can't even through away their shit. (Though I love my sister dearly - she's the one I helped move - it's a personal thing and has nothing to do with her... love you len.)
It's the putting stuff in boxes, trying to play tetris with ceramics, and finding shit that I would totally throw away and I CANNOT because it's not mine... I mean you learn alot about people when you move them....
1) When was the last time they went through their freezer.
2) How many clothes they REALLY have (shoes included)
3) What sentimental or "important" documents really need to be kept... (this reminds me of an old roommate who kept all paperwork for like 5 years... for no reason, just in case)
4) Fetishes
DO NOT get me started on people with knick knacks... I FREAKIN HATE those... I want to grab all of them and break and burn them in the backyard while I chant naked to the GODS of broken precious moment dolls.
Me? well, I know I have annoying habits... I keep notebooks. Empty ones, and pretty paper... or just lined paper. I DON'T KNOW WHY. I think deep down if the apocalypse came, I would have all the paper in the world and that gives me INFINITE POWER!!! or I just like paper... who knows? I try throwing it away. I stare at it and put it in the waste basket, but I'm like, that is such a waste... I could USE that (which all hoarders say I'm sure).
I'm a cookbook pack rat.I love them, to a point of obsession. I like looking at food... I don't need to cook it to know that it is delicious, (not that I would because I don't cook THAT often...) I just need to see it, and know that somewhere in the world, someone made this and died of joy. If by chance I need a recipe for eel, I got it... why use the internet when I can go through 25 cookbooks (WITH PICTURES!) to find it.
Ok, I'll move on because I'm thinking about all the moving and I'm started to want to go on a rampage and get arrested in the backyard.
Anyway, after all the moving this weekend, it felt good to just get it over with. The unpacking doesn't really bother me, it's like christmas with your own stuff. :) My sister, bro-in-law and me head out and I lost/got my phone stolen at a gas station in Naples.
I HATE loosing stuff. I HATE HATE HATE people that steal stuff... and my phone is old. I mean I've had it longer than my dog. Yes, it's old, I get it... I'm an old person that gets cranky about technology, "hey woodchucks, stop chuckin' my wood" but I don't NEED a lot of stuff on my phone. I call and text. That's it.
NOW WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD STEAL MY PHONE? Children's play phones have more options on their phones than mine. I know, I've played with them. I mean, it doesn't even have cool stuff like awesome games. I might have snake. WHO IS SO DESPERATE FOR A PHONE THAT THEY WOULD STEAL MINE? You can get a nicer phone for $.97 at WALMART with a two year activation fee. (I know, I looked.) This is like moving, it's stupid that I kept it, but it was mine, and it had EXTREME EMOTIONAL VALUE. I'm still kinda ticked about that. The ONE pciture of my dog was PRICELESS... I will NEVER get it back... and for that stranger that stole my phone instead of returning it to the front counter, I hope you trip and break your nose so that Michael Jackson will make fun of you, or get herpes.
Which leads me to the last thing I HATE that this weekend caused. I realized I need another job because with all this moving and needing to replace phones... it all costs money...
Cover letters. I hate cover letters more than a mayo based sauce (I'm not going to say mayo because I hate that more but a mayo based sauce is equally as distasteful). I really sit there trying to think of ways to say I deserve this job and this is what I come up with:
Dear Employer,
I'm awesome.
Respectfully amazing,
me.
That's all they want to hear anyway. or:
Dear The Man,
I can do this job better than most. Pay me a lot.
Thank me,
me.
It's like the cover letter dance is worse than the first date dance because, you have to put everything out there but then what surprises do you have to come back with. Personally, I do better with interviews (on occasion, I've had the "I really should keep my mouth shut" moments.) I need to make people laugh, that's just my thing... But seriously, its as bad as eHarmony except you DON'T get a face shot.
Grrr... this blog sucks. I know because I just got charged by a fat dachshund who's face looks at me with me great disappointment. She almost knocked me off my chair.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
It's a jungle out there
Sorry folks, I haven't been on, because my brain has not been looking at the world normally... yes, my amusement meter went down. SO TODAY, I decided to turn it back on...
wow.
So, you know I work with three year olds right? I love three year olds. They are like humans with no concept of social awkwardness or filters in general... (almost as good as two year olds... almost.)
I noticed a few things... because we are learning about animals, I started noticing some similarities in the tiny humans I work with and the entirety of survival in the animal kingdom.
Here I go:
1. We are vicious when it comes to ownership. It doesn't matter how NICE the kid is, how well behaved they are, they will slap a bitch for taking his/her toy. ...ONE block even if they have all but that one block. It's not about whether or not its necessary for building... I touched it first, I own it. (This is also a variation on the children that spit or lick something to claim ownership as well... and men never grow out of this faze... thanks Freud, I'm sure this has deeper meaning.)
2. Being modest is a human thing, we don't naturally have it. If you have to go, you have to go... I get it. My sister has a term "right now" for those moments when turtle heads are become full grown tortoises. Yup I said it.
Anyway, I can't tell you how many times I've seen a kid RUN out of the bathroom with his/her pants down, to let me know they went poop. OR even better, when they inform me with their pants up, and then I asked if they wipe... and they shuffle back in there... OR when they call me to the bathroom to tell me they pooped, and they need help to wipe... yes, that happens... I almost prefer that then having the find the kid whose skid marks are a full wreck and wrecking havoc on my sensitive nose, and it's everywhere but being somehow contained by a pair of superman undies... so he does have some power...
3. We eat anything. Trust me. I know a kid who hates green beans, but eats his buggars like its going out of style. It doesn't make sense... I'm like, they are the same color, probably around the same consistency (the canned kind), and salty... where is the line?... THERE ISN'T ONE. My sisters dogs lick each other's ears and eye gook... I'm sure if a three year old liked the taste.... "come here Fido... I want a snack." I mean... and that's leaving out the adventures of trying mudpies, leaf soup, and mulch cake.
You are probably thinking, "nope, I was not that kid"... well, let's see, did you ever play with play-do? That's what I thought, you tried it, and that kid, sitting next to you, he ate his buggars and didn't wash his hands before he was forced to share some of his play-do with you....
Yummy.
Don't you dare judge: Think about it, one day, a long time ago, someone looked at a cow and said, "I tried your milk... but let's be honest, you've got a sweet rib cage..." or look at the pig (fun fact: the animal that goes feral the most easily and survives bitches) and say, "you eat anything... I guess I can eat you."
It probably went like this:
Man: Mr. Chicken, you've been a great companion this whole time.
Chicken: Thanks man, you too.
Man: You've provided me with eggs, feathers, and you are the best wing man ever.
Chicken: Yeah, we've been through a lot, feeding you, helping you make head dresses, getting you ready for the ladies....
Man: ...yeah... but when I said wing man.. I meant I'm drawn to them... they look delicious.
Chicken: I do not like where this is going.
End scene.
4. Now, that's not to say, we are just gross, selfish beings... its just we come from heartier stalk than we remember... y'know before we had standards and sensibilities. We still naturally create a hierarchy. "Coolness" as not such a factor with three year olds as being ballsy enough to say "Fart" in front of your teacher or having gained more than one a sticker on your shirt (yes, even if you have to steal it). But more about conforming to your friends. If one kid says "poop", and gets away with it, they all try. If I say, "I like the way our friend is sitting so quietly with his hands in his lap", the kids will do that too...
We are social beings that want love and attention as well as support from our peers. No wonder high school is such a killer of souls... usually its the idiot who is the most vocal about their exploits and peer pressure is a bitch. Just ask the guys who inhaled fire ants as an homage to Ozzy... (Disturbingly, though not surprisingly, they died due to the inflammation of the ant bites in the nasal cavity.... true story: watch a 1000 ways to die.) *Insert breeding joke here.
5. Now, the one thing I do love about three year olds and animals in general. They are not grudge holders... yes, they will throw a tantrum, and they WILL let you know that "YOU CAN'T COME TO MY HOUSE!" and sometimes, they will poop in retaliation... But, they'll calm down and give you a hug and a kiss and still tell you they love you. My heart melts every time... I can only imagine when I have children what kind of feeling that will be.
Unless of course they decide to eat their buggars and kiss me on the mouth...
wow.
So, you know I work with three year olds right? I love three year olds. They are like humans with no concept of social awkwardness or filters in general... (almost as good as two year olds... almost.)
I noticed a few things... because we are learning about animals, I started noticing some similarities in the tiny humans I work with and the entirety of survival in the animal kingdom.
Here I go:
1. We are vicious when it comes to ownership. It doesn't matter how NICE the kid is, how well behaved they are, they will slap a bitch for taking his/her toy. ...ONE block even if they have all but that one block. It's not about whether or not its necessary for building... I touched it first, I own it. (This is also a variation on the children that spit or lick something to claim ownership as well... and men never grow out of this faze... thanks Freud, I'm sure this has deeper meaning.)
2. Being modest is a human thing, we don't naturally have it. If you have to go, you have to go... I get it. My sister has a term "right now" for those moments when turtle heads are become full grown tortoises. Yup I said it.
Anyway, I can't tell you how many times I've seen a kid RUN out of the bathroom with his/her pants down, to let me know they went poop. OR even better, when they inform me with their pants up, and then I asked if they wipe... and they shuffle back in there... OR when they call me to the bathroom to tell me they pooped, and they need help to wipe... yes, that happens... I almost prefer that then having the find the kid whose skid marks are a full wreck and wrecking havoc on my sensitive nose, and it's everywhere but being somehow contained by a pair of superman undies... so he does have some power...
3. We eat anything. Trust me. I know a kid who hates green beans, but eats his buggars like its going out of style. It doesn't make sense... I'm like, they are the same color, probably around the same consistency (the canned kind), and salty... where is the line?... THERE ISN'T ONE. My sisters dogs lick each other's ears and eye gook... I'm sure if a three year old liked the taste.... "come here Fido... I want a snack." I mean... and that's leaving out the adventures of trying mudpies, leaf soup, and mulch cake.
You are probably thinking, "nope, I was not that kid"... well, let's see, did you ever play with play-do? That's what I thought, you tried it, and that kid, sitting next to you, he ate his buggars and didn't wash his hands before he was forced to share some of his play-do with you....
Yummy.
Don't you dare judge: Think about it, one day, a long time ago, someone looked at a cow and said, "I tried your milk... but let's be honest, you've got a sweet rib cage..." or look at the pig (fun fact: the animal that goes feral the most easily and survives bitches) and say, "you eat anything... I guess I can eat you."
It probably went like this:
Man: Mr. Chicken, you've been a great companion this whole time.
Chicken: Thanks man, you too.
Man: You've provided me with eggs, feathers, and you are the best wing man ever.
Chicken: Yeah, we've been through a lot, feeding you, helping you make head dresses, getting you ready for the ladies....
Man: ...yeah... but when I said wing man.. I meant I'm drawn to them... they look delicious.
Chicken: I do not like where this is going.
End scene.
4. Now, that's not to say, we are just gross, selfish beings... its just we come from heartier stalk than we remember... y'know before we had standards and sensibilities. We still naturally create a hierarchy. "Coolness" as not such a factor with three year olds as being ballsy enough to say "Fart" in front of your teacher or having gained more than one a sticker on your shirt (yes, even if you have to steal it). But more about conforming to your friends. If one kid says "poop", and gets away with it, they all try. If I say, "I like the way our friend is sitting so quietly with his hands in his lap", the kids will do that too...
We are social beings that want love and attention as well as support from our peers. No wonder high school is such a killer of souls... usually its the idiot who is the most vocal about their exploits and peer pressure is a bitch. Just ask the guys who inhaled fire ants as an homage to Ozzy... (Disturbingly, though not surprisingly, they died due to the inflammation of the ant bites in the nasal cavity.... true story: watch a 1000 ways to die.) *Insert breeding joke here.
5. Now, the one thing I do love about three year olds and animals in general. They are not grudge holders... yes, they will throw a tantrum, and they WILL let you know that "YOU CAN'T COME TO MY HOUSE!" and sometimes, they will poop in retaliation... But, they'll calm down and give you a hug and a kiss and still tell you they love you. My heart melts every time... I can only imagine when I have children what kind of feeling that will be.
Unless of course they decide to eat their buggars and kiss me on the mouth...
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