Sunday, December 4, 2011

"I don't wanna sound like a queer or nothin', but I think Depeche Mode's a sweet band!"

Holy hell. Writing these out on a smartphone is a monstrous pain in the ass. Not only is it way too time-consuming, but the predictive-text/auto correct/whatever on an Android phone obviously does not 'learn' what words you type frequently. I know this because it keeps changing 'yeah' to 'Utah'. I have never been to Utah, nor do I ever have occasion to write about it as 3.2 beer and temple-approved undergarments aren't interests of mine. But you know what is? Cursing. And this phone makes that hard, too. I think it's trying to ben-hur me... Uh... That should say censor. And I honest-to-god did not do that on purpose, but had to leave it rather than edit it because that's exactly what I'm talking about. Seriously? Ben-hur? When have I ever typed that? So duck this piece of shirt phone.

I made some plans over the last couple weeks that fell through today. Not really a big deal, but something I was kinda excited about since it seemed I'd done good. Oh well. It'll work out, just won't be quite as neat.

Know what's lame? This. And me. And... What kinda cruel joke is the head/FSM playing when you find yourself absolutely, retardedly, and embarrassingly smitten with someone who seemingly has zero interest in you? And when you don't even know why they're so great in your mind in the first place? Total bunk, I say. What's the point of the whole 'chemistry' thing if it's nothing but a boy-who-cried-wolf for one person and a source of entertainment for the other? Really. Here's this thing that suddenly makes you forget your words and say dumb shit, if anything at all because by god, you can find something witty to say EVERY OTHER FREAKING TIME but not when they show up, and makes you feel like a bumbling idiot when you try to be cool and maybe show just enough interest to not be weird or over-do it but to try to get to know them better, but yeah, that backfires and all they see is the bumbling idiot. And just coming clean is most likely a bad idea anyway, for the obvious reason in that I don't see a mutual interest, but also because I can't exactly avoid them should it end up being a painfully awkward exchange and I don't like spending a portion of each day wishing I could dig a hole and hide out for a while. It's just dumb. That's all. Also, I'm not one to often come down with cases of the smittens. I just don't. Since it does happen so infrequently, I would prefer they happen when there's a chance. I don't wanna be wasting my limited supply of smittens on folks who don't want any. They're like Thin Mints. Yeah, you know they come out once a year, and you can even stock up. But you never get enough. So when you happen on that random box at the back of the cabinet, it's like gold. You keep most to yourself, but if any do leave your hands, you're damn sure to give them to people who appreciate it. And who will return the favor with their box of Tag-a-longs.

My cat Joe has developed an insatiable taste for potato chips. If he hears anything remotely similar to a chip bag, he materializes from wherever he was sleeping and will not get out of my face until I let him see what it is. He used to be this way about ice cream and chocolate milk, too, which is a little strange since cats can't taste sweet.

I missed the Christmas parade again this year. Oh well. I have no need to see it ever again, really, because nothing, nowhere, nohow, could ever top the Rotisserie Jesus float from a few years back. Nothing. Except perhaps a live depiction of the birth of Jesus, placenta and all.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Can You Spot The Scary?

Oops. I forgot to do a birthday post this year. No biggie. Well, less like I forgot (I know I'm getting older, but I got quite a while before the senility sets in. You shuddup.) but more that I don't have internet at home, and typing this crap out on a cell phone, smart or not, is a pain the ass. Regardless, nothing's changed, except now I'm 31 so I have even less of an excuse for just about everything I do. I have a feeling that someday I'll be hitting 40, all the while stomping my foot and refusing to eat my vegetables or fold my laundry or remember to pay my bills on time or any of those other things that adults are supposed to do and like it.

I'm only posting this now, at work, yes I know, don't fire me, it's almost 5pm, because Facebook has done it (well, did it the other day but I forgot about it) again with the sponsored ads. Here you go. One of these things is not (quite as fitting) as the others... ok, scratch that. It doesn't fit the ad on first glance, but then again, on another level it TOTALLY fits.
   
Can you spot the Scary? 

Alright. They're all scary. But one in particular is the thing of nightmares. Ugh. *shudder* 

Is it a kid? A doll? WTF? Be a social worker! Remove dolls from the possession of full-grown men (multiple sanitizing sessions needed)! Or remove kids who get dressed up as dolls from the possession of overweight middle-aged women who are using their children to vicariously live out their own Pretty Pretty Princess fantasies (multiple therapy sessions needed)! 

Same diff, yo.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Still:

Here. Working. Hanging out with cool people. Hanging out by myself. Don't have internet at home. Getting by. Carless. Alive. Thinking about having a birthday party or not. Have this stupid crush. Haven't done anything about it. Don't see a reason to. Think I'd rather avoid disappointment and rejection. Have three cats. Hate folding laundry. Don't like mushrooms. Wonder where the time went. Could eat french fries every day. A goofball. A dork. An individual. Not cool. In a band. Loving everyone in my life. Watching movies on VHS. Drinking beer. Drinking bourbon. Drinking chocolate milk. Listening to shitty vinyl bought at thrift stores. Almost a midget. Missing some things. Hanging on. Hoping. Dreaming.

Monday, October 10, 2011

A List Of Things, Part 2

Things I Don't Have Enough Of:


1. Dollars
Everyone says this. Everyone wants nice things; some people just want nicer/more expensive things than others. I'm not one of them. I don't need any fancy electronics or new cars. I just want to pay off my loans, be able to get new shoes when I need them, and have a working car so that I can go do things like buy groceries. I would like to not live paycheck-to-paycheck any longer. I would like to have some savings again. I would like to maybe take a small trip somewhere. Nothing lavish. Sometimes I feel like I did everything right, but all for naught.

2. Days/Hours
I need at least two more days per week, and at least 6 more hours per day. Can you get on that, please? There has got to be a way to slow the rotation and orbit of the earth to do this. Then I could find time for all the things I want to do. Or for a second job.

3. Cats
Haha! Just kidding... but, seriously...

While I recognize that I do in fact have the Crazy Cat Lady gene, I am all topped off on cats. Got enough. Thanks.

4. Pants, etc.
I have way too many tee shirts, but not enough other clothing. I need to do a swap or something. I can always find a tee shirt to wear, but sometimes I can't find pants. No one wants to see me not wearing pants. Mostly because I also don't own any cute undies. I could find some way to make all those extra tee shirts into pants, maybe. Or skirts. Skirts would probably be easier.

5. Liver Cells
Because I'm burning through those bitches like there's no tomorrow. Hell, it won't be long before the survivors figure out my master plan and flee in droves. They can only regenerate if there are some left, right?

6. Courage
They gave it all to that damn lion. Didn't save me any. I mean, I'm not a total pansy. I don't wet myself when something is scary. I don't pass out at the sight of blood. I guess what I mean is that I'm one of those shy people. I'm a lot (A LOT) better than I used to be, but sometimes I wish I was one of those extroverts who can just come out and say what they think, ask for what they want, and all that good stuff. This would make things like the stupid crush I mentioned in the last post easier. I could just say, "Hey, I think you're neat. Wanna hang?" and get on with it if the answer is no. Or get it on if the answer is yes.

7. Social Grace
Jeebus, I'm socially awkward (see above). I'm pretty good at embarrassing myself. All because if I'm not making a joke, then I don't have much to say. Or rather, I'm no good at saying it. Now, if it's an F-bomb-laden rant or a guffaw-inducing double entendre, I'm golden. A wink-nudge play on words? Yup. I'm punny! But hell, stick me in a room with people I don't know or in front of a crowd, or make me talk to a boy I like or have a serious discussion, and my brain stops communicating with my mouth. I'm lucky to remember my own name and chances are slim that I'll remember anyone else's. I might drool. And I'll totally accidentally drop another F-bomb.

8. Motivation
I know this is a shock to some of you, but I'm not the go-getter type. This is the perfect example: I should be finishing the furniture rearrange I started this past Saturday night. But instead I'm sitting here tossing word turds at the internet. I wish I was the domestic goddess other girls my age (aka women and/or real adults) are, but I hate doing dishes. I am not a real adult. I am easily distracted. I have no desire to fold my laundry when I can sit and read my book instead. And all those unfinished projects I mentioned in Part 1? Yup. I just can't get going on them. I suppose you could call me lazy, but I prefer to think of it as a difference in priority. Those dishes aren't going anywhere (hell, I don't have food to put on them anyway!), but my VHS player might stop working tomorrow and I still have six tapes of old The X-Files episodes to watch!!

9. Photos Of My Food On Facebook
This is the thing to do now, apparently. Every day, I see what a good sized chunk of my friends eat. It's like they're trying to prove something. What it is, I don't know... who eats the most? Who eats the weirdest stuff? Who isn't anorexic? Who cooks vs. who goes out? Either way, I better get in on it or I won't be in the Cool Club anymore. Maybe I'll do extreme close-ups and have people guess what it is. Maybe I'll only post photos of the most mundane of foodstuffs like cheese and crackers or cereal. Maybe I'll post photos of my cats' meals. Maybe I'll post photos of what my meal looks like 8 hours later... you just never know.

9.5. Backrubs
I always want a backrub. Always.

10. Manfriends
Well, I just want one. Not friends who are boys. I got lots of those. And why I'd want just one of them around a lot is sort of mind-boggling because they drive me nuts. But still. It'd be cool to have a special buddy around again. It's been a hot minute, I've had my fun, and wouldn't mind taking another shot at finding something more meaningful. Problem is I can't find someone I'm that interested in (with one exception. See #10 of Part 1). I know some cute guys, and some nice guys, but there either really isn't any real chemistry or they're taken or gay or not into me or or or ad infinitum. I also tend to see only the same group of people over and over again. I know some friends who have had luck with the internet thing, but that's not my style. Whatever. I'm no spinster yet. But I'm no spring chicken, either. I'd kinda like to get on with this whole "life" thing and have someone to share it with. There's gotta be at least one dapper young gentleman out there I can trick into thinking I'm the bees knees, right?

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

A List Of Things, Part 1

Things I Have Too Many Of:

1. Tee Shirts
Yes. I own more tee shirts than any one person should. Especially since I'm a 30-year-old woman (?). Note: The question mark is not to reflect my questioning of whether or not I am female. I am for sure one of those. It's the "30-year-old" part that boggles me. Where did the years go? How do I qualify as 'functional adult'? What the hell is going on?? And that's my point. Look in my closet. You'll find zero power suits. Only a couple fancy dresses. No nightclub duds. And a stupid amount of tee shirts. Really. Is that the wardrobe of an adult? How did I sneak into that club?

2. Molars
I still got those pesky wisdom teeth. "Wisdom Teeth". What a load of crock. They make their presence known to me pretty much every day at this point. And they do not make me wiser. They make me cranky. Recently I had a dream that I went to have them taken out, and they decided they were going to take out my front teeth, too. Then they gave me braces and moved the outer incisors to the center, which made me look even funnier than I do now.

3. Pint Glasses
It must really look like I have a drinking problem. Open my cabinet and before you are somewhere between 35 and 45 pint glasses. On the one hand, this comes in handy when I go anti-domestic and let the dishes pile up. Or when I get a little beverage-happy and change the type of bevvie I'm sipping on 6 times in 3 hours. On the other, it's a lot of glasses. Hey! Maybe I have them for all those parties I have! Oh, that's right. I can't remember the last time there were more than 5 people here at one time. More than that and I'd probably freak out.

4. Stupid Crap
You know this stuff. The things that just materialize. Knick-knacks and tchotchkes that get set somewhere, then somewhere else, then put in a box, and then just seem to multiply on their own. One day you look around and BAM! you have stickers and buttons and keychains and branded luggage tags and a rubber Hot Wheels watch (that still works) on the bottom shelf of your coffee table. Time to go.

5. Books I Want To Read
This isn't really a bad thing. But is but one counterpoint to an item that will follow on another list.

6. Cats
Haha! Just kidding.... But, seriously...

7. Bills
Who doesn't? Fuck The Man, I say. Of course, I only say it because I do enjoy things like shelter and food. I could stick to just that, but then my prissy ass also enjoys such luxuries as indoor plumbing (including hot water!), garbage pickup, and mobile connectivity. Living large has its cost.

8. Unstarted Projects/Unrealized Ideas
So many things I planned to do, so many (like, all of them) undone. The flip side are the ideas I have where I can't get the details worked out. I want to arrange my furniture in an aesthetic manner, but have not the eye for such tasks. Same with decorating. I can't match my clothing. You think I can pony up some tasteful decor??

9. Activities I Want To Do
I like bowling. I also like trivia. But they happen on the same night! I like roller coasters, but can't make it to Atlanta for a simple fix, let alone to the Trifecta Of Fun in Ohio. Speaking of Ohio, I want to eat some Skyline really should visit my family in Cincinnati. I would like to go to the beach. Or to another country. I would like to, for the first time in my entire life, take an honest-to-FSM for-real vacation. I want to play with the Athens Symphony, and rejoin the Northwinds Symphonic Band. I want to take some sort of artistic movement class (but I don't want you to watch because you will laugh). All of these are also a counterpoint to more than one thing that will be on a subsequent list...

10. Crushes
First off, what a funny word! Second, by saying this, it would seem that I have a crush on anything that is at the very least not fully decomposed, but this is not the case. I am not one of those girls who 'crush' on every cute guy they see. I actually pretty much never have them. And that's ok. Because I think they're a pain in the ass. Up until recently the only crush I could claim to have had for a long while could be classified as the "Thirteen Year Old Schoolgirl" variety, wherein I admire from afar but have no actual desire to pursue it further. I'd rather just giggle and gawk and move on with my night. So that one doesn't count because it doesn't pop up in my head any other time. No, now I'm speaking of an actual crush. It's only one. And that's too many. I will elaborate on this soon (I need to write more anyway), but long story short, I don't have time for this stupidity. All it does is invade my brain when I don't need the distraction, render me unable to say anything interesting or clever when the opportunity for interaction arises, and make me obsess on what is wrong with me since it doesn't appear to be mutual. Which is frustrating as all hell. Boys are stupid, and crushes are stupid, and I'm too old for this crap.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Labor Day = Lazy Day

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Ovaltine? No? Well, I'm coming out. I love me some Ovaltine. Chocolatey malty milky goodness. I swear I could drink Ovaltine all damn day. That kid in the commercial knew what was up... he was down with it. "More Ovaltine, please!" When I get to the bottom of the jar, a part of my heart breaks. When my milk jug runs dry, life becomes unbearable. For just a moment, at least. If forced to choose between giving up Ovaltine or beer for life, I would need some serious time for consideration. And I'd probably keep Ovaltine. It's almost an addiction. Yeah. I love Ovaltine.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

BREAKING NEWS: I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT FOOTBALL

Really. I don't.

I went to UGA. I went to every game for five years. Ok, that's a fib. I went to almost every game for five years. I didn't get to to go to the Aloha Bowl in 2000. And I missed one LSU game and one Kentucky game. Because they didn't take the whole 400+ person marching band to these three games and I was still a freshman and not a member of the Derbies pep band. But I went to every other game. Every. Game. I wore a uniform that was made of 100% wool, with pants that were actually overalls (bibbers is what they're called) and a thick-ass coat that generally cut off half of your breathing ability and the upward range of motion for your arms, and which was topped off with a stupid hat with a feather plume on top (called a shako) that smelled like feet. You sweated your ass off, literally, most of the time. (The bosses are benevolent, though, and let you remove your coat in the stands when the outside temperature is over 90 degrees.) Or you froze your ass off: no other coats allowed, and sweatshirts would not fit underneath the uniform. No biggie, you'll feel your fingers and toes tomorrow! Or you were wet and soggy. We had official raincoats for a bit, but they got moldy and some got lost, and after two years there weren't enough non-moldy ones for everyone, so no raincoats for you, don't worry, that horrendous 'wet dog' smell will only take 4 days to scrub off your skin.

Yup. Every game. Playing cheers that were announced by the drum major making hand signs like a baseball coach. Hearing "Glory" until my ears bled (hopefully... meant we were winning).  Having drunk 50-year-old fans of the other team call me unspeakable names and throw half-eaten chicken wings and cups of soda at me, or maybe just a 30-something, 6' 4" dude with a little boy call me a 'fucking bitch-ass cunt with a dog face' and attempt to shove me out of his way. (I stood my ground on that one and threatened to bean him with a cymbal before the drumline tech stepped in and told him to fuck off).

So you know? I like it when they win. But I don't follow it, I don't know the players' names or stats, I don't know the schedule without looking at it, and I don't get my sandy panties in a wad when they lose. UGA is not a bad team, but they've pretty much never been an amazing team. They're really good at the last-minute let-down. Been doing it for years, they have. Every now and then they pull something awesome out of their asses at the last second and someone saves the day (see Outback Bowl 1999 or Auburn maybe 2002? it rained and was freezing and we won on an amazing pass in OT), but that's a rarity. I can't understand how some people just lose their shit and seriously mope for days. It's a game, stupid. Like Monopoly or strip poker. And at least in strip poker you might actually get something that's a direct benefit to you.

I also can't understand the vitriol that is spewed in the direction of whichever coach happens to be employed at the time. All he can do is tell them what to do, he can't play the game himself or control what they do out on the play field. And he's not their papa, either. Some football player acted the fool downtown and got himself arrested on a drunk and disorderly charge? How the hell is that the coach's fault?? He's a FOOTBALL COACH, not a nanny or life coach or omnipresent god. He's got his own shit to worry about once he's off the clock. Is it his fault that Damon Evans had to hold that poor girl's red panties for her, too? Gah. How about the team just isn't perfect, and is populated with dumbass 18-22 year old boys that act stupid just like all the other 18-22 year old boys here on campus?

In other news, I went thrifting with Brandon and Josh today. We went to America's Thrift Store and Goodwill. I spent a total of $40, which normally has me freaking out. But I did get five albums, five movies (including Tank Girl and Blacula), one pack of disposable tupperware, two skirts, and four dresses. So I guess that's ok. Tomorrow we're taking a trip to J&J Flea Market. Somehow I've lived in Athens since 1999 and have never been to J&J, so I'm pretty pumped. Hopefully I'll score some neat shit.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Take your stinking paws off them, you damn dirty ape.

Fucking bastard. I know it's someone that lives around here because they are obviously watching them just as closely as I. Two more are gone just days before I was to pick them. Just like the first time. They've gotten four; I've gotten none. It's really a bummer. They probably think it's funny. I think it's mean. I thought those were the last two that were viable, but I saw today I have one that needs a week or so and two that are babies yet.

I've been trying to decide how best to make it known that I am watching for them.  I considered just ripping up all the vines and putting them in a pile with a sign that read "Here. Why don't you just go ahead and take the rest of them and get it over with, jerk.". I also considered simply putting out a sign with just a sad face or middle finger or the phrase "If I Find Out Who You Are, I Will Break Your Fingers". (The first time this happened I printed a sign but didn't put it up. It said "Yes, I noticed. Yes, I am sad. Yes, you suck.") I also have thought about being an asshole right back and booby-trapping them. Somehow. I'm not really sure what I could do to them that would keep them alive long enough to get stolen yet make them nasty or something. But wouldn't it be fun to put a sign up the day after it disappears that informs them that their new melon was mulched with my own poo?

It really pisses me off and honestly makes me sad. It's less about the watermelons themselves; I actually don't eat them much but was excited to see that I could grow something fun. I was excited to share them with my friends. So what upsets me and gets me down is that someone I haven't done anything to is perfectly alright with destroying something I made and something that isn't theirs, and they don't care enough about someone they've never met to leave just one. All I need is one. I was going to give the others away anyway. I just wanted to have the chance to do so. I am really sick and tired of being shit on by other people for no reason. I guess that's what it really comes down to. Why do people just shit on everyone else? 


For some reason I never thought about bugs just up and dropping dead like people sometimes do, but I saw the aftermath of it Sunday afternoon. My friend Brandon and I walked to the Co-op to get some brunch particles to put together. On the way back up my street, right over the sidewalk and at just about eye-level for most people, was a dead spider. Hanging from a strand of silk attached to (most likely) her leg. Just blowing in the wind. Nothing wrong, no missing pieces or dried out in the sun or anything like that. Not even crunchy yet, so it must have been fresh. Hanging there. I guess she was up in the tree limbs or the power lines, just going about her business weaving herself a nice fresh new web, and then BAM. Whatever it is that happens to arachnids when they stop living... I tried to get a photo but without a decent background couldn't get the camera to focus. We took her down, and Brandon decided he wanted to keep her. I almost felt like we should give her a little memorial, but since I never met this particular spider I'm not sure I'd have thought of anything to say.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Social Networking- Rage Fodder Extraordinaire

Seriously. I just need to rebrand this blog as a "WTF is this stupid shit on the internet" blog. I do less ranting anymore, but lots more "OMG lol Look what Facebook put online". Because it is STUPID. Yes. Stupid. Except, I suppose if only I just think it's absolutely retarded then it really is just me ranting as per my blog's promising tagline... So yeah. This is stupid:


From a glance, this doesn't seem all that bad. The stupid part is that there is a 'Like' button underneath this shit. No, I do not like it. Unless it's to support the glaring fact that Hollywood is completely out of original ideas. "I know! The 80's are popular again. Let's remake all the 80's movies! We can make them 3D! Everyone will lose it for 3D!!". Dudes... LIFE is nothing but 3D. Ain't no thang, peeps. Last thing I want to do is go to a movie theatre, pay nine bucks for a movie I've seen before (and can see anytime I want on Netflix), while not only sitting in a seat that a thousand asses have farted in before me, but also wearing some dumb glasses that make my eyeballs vomit and could possibly give me lice or maybe scabies or a face fungus. Not to mention the soda and small stale popcorn that costs a week's salary and the idiot people sitting in front of you who won't get off their goddamn cell phone. And it's cold in there. So fuck that. Adding "2011" to the end of the movie title doesn't mean it's an upgrade. It's not a car or a Windows product.

And be sure to note that this movie is "terrifying". (air quotes needed here). 

1985 called. It said "Get your grubby unoriginal paws off my campy vampire movies!" It also requests that you leave those stupid huge-framed glasses and Cosby sweaters alone, too.




Monday, August 15, 2011

"Eh, it'll do."


I do love my pets. But I love them mostly because they aren't stuffed. Seriously, WTF? 

ADDENDUM:

Ok, this one looks like it might possibly be alive. Can't be sure, it's still creepy, and could be in the throes of a poison-induced seizure or maybe it's just playing with a string that's out of frame. But still. You can't find a stock photo of a cat that's not this shitty? You just don't even try anymore, do you? 


Saturday, July 30, 2011

Am I making something worthwhile out of this place?

I've been neglecting this thing again.

I sometimes feel that I'm living in some bizarro world. I never get anything done. But I'm always doing something.  A lot of times, though, that 'something' isn't anything truly productive. I keep thinking that I'll get time, but I don't make time. For what? Oh, I don't know... reading? Is that productive? Household chores? Boring, but necessary. I guess I do a lot of socializing. That can't be too bad, I suppose. It's often with the same folks; I love them, but I'm not really branching out. Not meeting any new interesting people. And I have let some other more long-standing friendships fall by the wayside. Then it comes down to that I know a lot of people, but only superficially.

Musings about your personal connections/contributions to the world and to the other people down in the muck with you generally come from some major event. Sometimes it can cause great grief to try and reshape one's philosophy after Something Has Changed... sometimes you get lucky and it comes along easily in one of those fabled "Eureka!" moments. I say fabled, as this doesn't usually seem to be the case. Sometimes you can only ponder on it and take the wait-and-see approach to determine if you will react differently the next time a particular situation presents itself.

There was such an event a couple weeks ago. I was only peripherally effected by the event itself, but the fallout has wormed its way through that outer layer to get to me more personally, and to prompt some reevaluation. Long story short: A shooting in Midtown Atlanta claimed the life of a young woman with both bright soul and bright future. She was in that stage of life where you really are just embarking on Bigger Things. She and her husband had only recently moved back to Atlanta, and had just become homeowners. At 26, she had been out in the Real World for long enough to know what is going on, but not long enough to have lost the ability to be optimistic and idealistic about where life was taking her. I had only met her once, but she was literal family to one coworker of mine, and figurative family to many others at Terrapin. While those "don't take life for granted you never know when it'll be gone/life's too short/yadayada" adages are of course appropriate and definitely part of this whole thinking on things because, well, they're true, I was more influenced by what this event did to people I care about. Seeing, yet not being able to truly understand, the level of devastation they felt was heartbreaking to me. I felt sick knowing that there were people I cared about who were hurting. I'm no good at dealing with other peoples' pain. I empathize entirely too much. I think that's a good thing. But what destroys me is that I can't fix what is destroying them.

But yes, all this has made me think. I've said many times that I know I am really good at shutting myself off from everything. I'm good at maintaining an arm's length between me and everyone I know. I'm too good at protecting myself from The Worst, and in the meantime that keeps me from getting to have a piece of The Best. This stems partially from that same fear of rejection in all of us; if someone actually knows you, they have enough information to determine if you make the cut or not. If they only know a few things, and for the most part you're a fairly decent person and not a raging asshole, then even if you don't make varsity you still get to sit on the bench with the team every now and then, maybe bring them water. No's almost always sting; Maybe's are not so bad.

Here's the thing, though. What if something happened to me tomorrow? Yeah, yeah, I know... But really, what would the outcome be? I should hope that there would be at least a few people to mourn me; drifting away unnoticed is also a basic human fear. But there is a difference- would everyone I know here be sad for a minute and then go back to normal? Or would there be some who would miss me and think of me for years to come? Have I made at least a small contribution to the life of another? Would the people I care about know how I loved them if I was suddenly gone and couldn't tell them? And what would people say about me later? If asked to say an eulogy for me, would anyone know where to start or have something of value to say outside of the few things everyone knows about me? Have I made a permanent impression on anyone and allowed them to do the same by opening up? If not, why? Because I keep myself at a healthy little distance, you know, just in case? How sad.

Last weekend a friend who's got about 10 years, a marriage, three kids, and his own business on me and I were sitting by a fire. We were talking about things like the above; how what had happened had made him want to get closer to people. Then out of nowhere, he said "Can I ask you a weird question?" Naturally I make a joke, saying "Depends on the question...". Then he asks me, "Do you ever get tired of being... of being... free?" I immediately understood that he didn't mean in the literal "America's A Free Country" sense. He was asking if I ever grew weary of my "free" lifestyle; yeah, I got a 9-5, but other than that I have no one to answer to, except three cats to feed. I get to do what I want, when I want, with whomever I want. Because I'm free. I can go out drinking every night, or turn off my phone and sit on my porch with a book. It's all up to me. I can hang out with people, or stay in by myself. It's the life a lot of people miss and say to take it while you can. He was asking because it's been a minute since he had that; he's not trapped by any means and loves what he has, but he does have responsibilities that must be attended to before playtime. But I have my freedom.

I thought on it for a second, and I realize now I didn't actually answer his question. I told him that it's just the way things are for me now, though this was never really my plan. I didn't have a plan, but I wasn't purposely trying to still be "free" at 30. I did believe in the past that I would be somewhere entirely different than where I am now. I told him it can get tiring sometimes, because when you're "free" and know other "free" people, it's hard to give them a viable excuse for not living up to your "free" lifestyle every night. Because they know that there's nothing else for you to do, may as well go out. I made a joke about it being expensive; going out costs money. I just said that while I did always envision that I'd be doing something else at this point, I'm not, so why not just enjoy it? I basically said "I'm not tired of it, but I'm not not tired of it, either" or more succinctly, "Meh".

The part I left out though... is that in ways, I am tired of it. With my "freedom", I come home to an empty apartment every day. I have no one to call and check up on me, no one to call and check up on. I have no one to share dinner at home with, or to cook for (maybe that's a good thing...), or to cook for me, or just get pizza with. There's no one here to sit on the couch and watch shitty movies with. There's no one to talk to late at night, or early in the morning, or on the weekends. Or to sit with on the porch drinking wine and reading books in silence. There's no one to get annoyed with about the dishes or laundry or empty toilet paper roll, or to annoy with me leaving my shoes all over the house. There's no one to bring me juice when I'm sick, and no one asking me to give them a back-scratch. Freedom reaches a point where it's actually just lonely. I don't view myself so much as "free" as I do "alone" anymore. That part- the lonely part... Yes. I'm tired of it.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

This Little Piggy Went To Market

Ewww, Facebook. Seriously??


You really do have me all wrong.






P.S. If you do a Google search for "This Little Piggy" (hey now, it's been a while; I wanted to be sure I was right), you will find a fairly detailed Wikipedia page. Someone had too much time on their, uh... feet...

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Just realized it's a month past my half-birthday.

Today is Sunday. I really wish it were Saturday instead; I feel as if I missed this whole weekend. Felt crappy on Friday, and missed the day. Felt somewhat better on Saturday, but slept late and spent my few free hours watching episodes of "Rome". Then worked the tour. And kinda worked a coworker's wedding/reception at the brewery. It was only supposed to be the reception, but their ceremony got rained out so they did it there. Super-cute. Then left from that early to play a show at 40 Watt. Too many PBRs. So today was wasted in recovery mode.

Joe is not better. Not really worse, but no improvement. He's losing weight, and I'm now having to syringe feed him since he stopped eating. He hates it, but is tolerant as usual. He sometimes will act really interested in something I have; I will give him a piece and he'll lick at it, but won't actually eat it. I need to take him in for some fluids since he won't drink that much either. He did develop a lot of nasal discharge, and on recheck it was thought that it could be viral in nature. But my other two cats are fine. He's not snotty anymore really, just a little from one side, but is still really snorty. I am guessing he's lost between 2-3 pounds. My scale isn't that accurate. The poor guy. I think it's time I tried something else. I was hoping it was just a weird little illness that would clear up with some time and antibiotics, but signs are now pointing elsewhere. I've never been able to feel his spine the way I can now. He's still cuddly. Curls up with me every night like always. It's hard for me to imagine that there is a chance I won't get that much longer.

I may be vehicular again soon. My neighbor is getting a car for his birthday, so he's going to let me have his for pretty cheap. And he's going to let my pay in installments. Which is awesome. Not a cool car, for sure. But it's got tires and an engine that runs most of the time...

More later. Been reading a lot, and honestly this laptop is making my lap hot. Since it is in fact sitting on my lap. I think I will have some ice cream. Or some root beer. I should drink water... but bah.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

And the storm continues...

In my last rant of a post I went on about the damn broken phone, and the tossing of cats in my direction, and the vet visit that stole that decanter from me... were it a normal person, that would have been the extent of the crap. But it's me. So now there's more. Here's the update.

Still got a broke-ass phone. Contacted all parties, and was denied by each. LG said I can send it back to be looked over by their technicians, and then they'll know how much repair costs. WireFly said "Fuck you. Call them". T-Mobile said "Fuck you, but you have insurance. Call them.". Odd... nowhere on my account can I find what they call the PHP Bundle- Premium Handset Protection. But she said I have it. However... it's through a company called Asurion, and what you do is file a claim with them, and if you've paid your $5.99 a month they accept that claim. Then they charge you your deductible (in my case, $130), and send you a new phone. OR they can send you a refurbished phone. OR if they don't have the phone you claimed, they will send you something similar. So, even with this so-called 'insurance', there's a chance that I'll end up with a refurbished G1 or something. I'm not really cool with that. They have a lawsuit going on in California against them- they were sending people phones that were not the models they claimed, and were refurbished, and that were worth less than the deductible. Shady... Not so happy with T-Mobile for working with such a scammy company.

So then next morning, I went into work, still bummed about the phone. And that Joe wasn't any better. On Wednesday, I had left a glass on my desk with about an inch of water left in the bottom. The office cat had knocked that glass over. Right onto the keyboard of my work laptop. It was off, but plugged in at the time. We left it open, and are hoping with a few days to dry out it'll come back to life.

So Thursday was crappy. Then I get home, and Joe is worse. He sounded completely congested, though there isn't any snot. Up until then, he didn't act sick at all- was his normal self. But when I got home, he didn't meet me at the door. He was laying under a table, all lethargic and pathetic and snorty. I took him back to the vet Friday morning. And he sent me to UGA emergency. I can't afford them. When they work up a case, they go for all the fancy equipment they have- and it's awesome they have it- but I don't have the fancy dollars to go with it. They have no payment plans, and actually charge 50% of the estimate (they come up with an estimate when you admit your animal, before they even know what's wrong) up front. No deposit, no vet care. Their estimate= 1500-3500 bucks.

So before I take him I check my checking account- I figure I probably have about $200 or so 'extra' (hardly- just not going directly to bills. Also now not going toward eating) dollars in there. EXCEPT that I had set up an online payment for my student loans a couple weeks ago. That was supposed to be $50. It went through, but the withdrew all $250 of my current balance. I am on forbearance, so I don't have to pay anything- I was just trying to get ahead. I freaked and called and they said "Sorry, can't reverse the charge." All they can do is process a refund and if I'm approved, they send me a paper check in 3-4 weeks. Shit shit shit.

I also had about 300 in a savings account I haven't touched in a while. I immediately set up a transfer for that. I called my dad. But he doesn't think of pets the same way I do. And is out of touch with what vet care costs these days. He might send me something. We'll see. He thought if it was going to be more than 200-300 bucks I should just euthanize him. I have about $100 left of my credit limit on my Discover card. So I'm working with limited funding here.

Anyway, I take him in. They rush him off, put him on oxygen. Then after a bit they come and get a history. Then talk about what they want to do. Here is where I have to say "I'm a shitty human and can't hand you 3K all at once to fix my baby" and I feel like they're judging me because of that. (Not in the way the student and doctor spoke with me- they were nice. But I've been backstage there- I did 25 weeks of interning there, and I've heard the way some of the doctors talk about owners with limited financial means. Basically "they have no business owning a pet if they can't pay for this stuff". Shit. Most people can't pay for that stuff for themselves).  So they try to keep things to a minimum to start with. I leave him there. They anesthetize him and do a visual airway exam. They didn't see any masses, but found that his vocal folds were greyish instead of pink, so they did a swab and found a lot of inflammatory cells there. Bloodwork is normal. Temperature and heart rate are normal. Lungs sound fine, but they did note it was hard to hear over his snorting. They called me and said it could be an infection causing the folds to inflame and close up. They suggested trying antibiotic and steroid therapy to see if that's the cause. They asked if I wanted him to stay overnight; I said yes because I wanted him to be there should it escalate quickly and I don't have a car.

I picked him up yesterday morning, and he seemed much better. I get home, and when he starts moving around it's right back to the way it was. He's trying to eat, but I think it makes it hard for him to breathe so he doesn't take more than a few bites. I tried wet food, but he has already shown his distaste for the food I bought for them (Organic red tuna and shredded chicken?? HOW DARE I?? Haha!). I tried some regular old Friskies wet food. No dice. I think he can't really sleep, because the angle of his head determines how easy it is to breathe. I know he was up most of the night, just laying there next to me. I'm really frustrated. It's sad to be so helpless while I know he feels awful.

I'm going to do what I have to to help him. I won't fight a losing fight- if it ends up being something with a poor prognosis, well, I'll deal with that when I have to. But I at least want to know what's wrong. What if it's just a foreign body in his sinus cavity? Or a benign mass just past his pharynx that's easily removed? I can't stand the idea of euthanizing him only to find that he would have been fine had I known what the cause of all this was. I have a few things I can sell- nothing of value except a decent clarinet I don't use any longer, but still. Anything will help. I will also be trying to work as many tours and events and what have you. My friend David wants to set up a donation page. I am a little wary of that, because I don't want people to think I'm not taking personal responsibility for my own pets. But he says 'screw it, give it a shot'. And since I am reaching the level of begging, I'll most likely let him do it. It is voluntary after all, and people always say that you can't get help unless you ask for it.

June 1 is Joe's 13th birthday. I really want him to be around for a while longer.


L-R: Joe, Oliver, Sadie

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Fun while it lasted...

So much for me owning anything nice. Or new. Or cutting-edge. Whatever is in control of my existence is dead-set on keeping me living in a perpetual state of rebuilding. Or being reclusive. Or being drunk. Something like that.

First, everyone I know is trying to give me another cat. I don't need any more damn cats. I love them. And I would take them. IF I owned a house. And IF I wasn't a 30-year-old woman. Who also happens to still be single. One more cat would be the nail in the coffin of future love. Getting laid. What-have-you. One more cat means that I really am The Crazy Cat Lady. And if these people actually care about me, and want to see me stay social, and don't want me to smell funny, and want to see me find love and happiness and all that cheeseball shit, WHY THE HELL DO THEY WANT ME TO HAVE ANOTHER CAT?? Sabotage, I tell you. I do not need any more pussy, thanks.

Second, I saved up some cash so I could splurge on this completely unnecessary item I've been drooling over. A pink vintage wine decanter at Modern Star. I want to lick this thing all over, I like it so much. It's got a little matching glass stopper. And you can get a set of highball glasses made by the same crystal company that are all different colors. I saved from working tours, and had the exact right amount of cash in my wallet. Then Joe had to go and start having issues with his breathing. Since it was acute, and there wasn't any snot and he didn't act like he felt bad, I of course immediately think something awful since I know all that crap. I'm thinking "old cat. breathing issues. no other signs. congestive heart failure. or cancer. or hypertrophic cardiomyopathy". I'm thinking "dying". So I instead use that cash to take him to the vet, who says "most likely allergies". Which I should have also though about but instead I'm hardwired to think of the bad shit. Now I'm feeding him antihistamines. And while he's a little better, he's still not great. And I don't have a wine decanter to drink from in order to ease the stress.

Third, I was feeling better about the fact that Joe- yes, my baby; I adopted him when I was 17. I'm approaching 31. Nobody fucks with the Joe.- wasn't dying before my eyes of some unseen condition. And glad it only had so far cost 61 of those 100-decanter-dollars I had burning a hole in my wallet. So then I had to go and make sure to fuck that one up as well. I decided, "Oh, it's a nice night! I'll drink a beer on the porch!" and like an idiot I took the phone I just got a month ago out with me. I never do that. Because no one calls me anyway. It's just a let-down, you know? But for some reason I had some hope, and took it with. Kept it in my pocket. Then I get a text... "Who?? Someone wants to hang??". Nope. My dad. He just learned how to text. Ah, ok... then just after responding to his text, I feel this tickle on me. A damn spider has decided to build a web. On me. From one side of my upper body to the other. WTF, btw?? So, I set the phone on the side table. I brush the offending arachnid off, and bump said side table. And phone falls to the floor. First time it's been dropped. And the screen shatters. And I'm 5 days past my 30-day trial period. GODFUKINGDAMMIT. So I'm now SOL on an expensive-ass phone I don't really need but was super-happy with. I can't get it exchanged. And I can't afford to replace it. I can't change my plan for 6 months, and my old phone doesn't use mobile web so my current plan is useless. I can maybe get the screen replaced. For the same amount I paid for the phone. It still works. It's just leaving glass splinters in my fingers when I try to use it. They hurt.

Basically, I can't win. If I could get a break that lasts more than a month, I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

Shit. I need a vacation. From life.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Ooops! I forgot to get Raptured!

Guess what?? I'm still here. Big surprise, huh? Oh... wait. EVERYONE is still here. 

Suckas! Someone got punk'd.

Saturday came and went as usual. Except it got hot outside again. I worked the tour, I drank some beers, I went out. No one disappeared. No earthquakes. Just drinks and dancing and a lost ID... if anyone sees it (probably on the ground outside Dawg Gone Good BBQ or somewhere between there and Little Kings), bring it on over, please! 

Besides dancing like an idiot and drinking to excess (what's new?) on Saturday, I went to the Melting Point and saw the Crash Test Dummies. Remember them? I will say, it was pretty good. And Brad Roberts is pretty funny. Of course they played Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm in their encore. Shows there are neat because it's so small. I've never felt that it's so crowded there that should there be a tipped candle or some poorly-engineered pyrotechnics, I would be that girl who makes it to the door but ends up getting crushed by the crowd behind me against the doorframe. So that's good.
 
I wonder how many people called out of work on Friday with the belief they were going to be heading 'home' on Saturday? "Hi, Mr. Bossman. This is Sherry. I won't be coming into work today because I have a few things I need to square away before tomorrow's Rapture. Sorry for the inconvenience! I'm pretty sure Brad can cover for me, since he's a gay and all and will not be taken into Heaven... Oh, and I guess I won't be there on Monday, either. Or ever again. Thanks! Hopefully I'll see you soon!". And now what? I suppose those folks will have to go slouching in tomorrow morning with their tails between their legs. "Oh yeah that... my bad. I'll make up the hours." 

OR.... maybe I and all my nonbeliever friends are wrong. Maybe there is a god, and maybe the Rapture really did happen. Maybe the only ones taken up were a handful of recluse-types living in the woods and staying the hell out of civilization's way. Who would notice they were gone? Or maybe, just maybe, God thought about it a little and decided He'd rather not give one single person a backstage pass to Paradise. Perhaps the human race, as a whole, has been deemed unworthy. After all, collectively we are selfish, manipulative, ignorant, judgmental asshats with a propensity to destroy our Earthly home, shoot each other over tennis shoes and iPods, start wars over differences in culture or ancestry, and just generally Fuck Shit Up. Maybe this is why we can't have nice things. If this is the case, I totally don't blame Him... I wouldn't let us in, either. First thing that would happen would be the construction of a Wal-Mart. God knows this, of course. So maybe He looked around as his beautiful kingdom, free of douchebaggery and fast-food chains and NASCAR, and said "Fuck that". 

Monday, May 2, 2011

Primero de Mayo

Osama bin Laden bit it today. Given how hard it was to find this guy, I had pretty much decided he'd never be captured nor killed. I figured we'd keep looking until the day some U.S. soldier who wandered behind some rocks to jerk off out in the Pakistani wasteland stumbled upon Osama's dead-from-old-age corpse by pure luck. But no. They found him, and then they went in there and popped a cap in his terrorist ass. AND they took his body. Take that, Al Qaeda bitches. However, there goes the motivation behind every political action of the past decade...  what will be the justified cause for the next war we start? Who will take over as Public Enemy Number One?

Twilight was loads of fun, though there was not enough food consumed prior to beers. Felt crappy all day today, and wasted a super-lovely day I should have used more productively. Like by taking out terrorists. Yeah. They really out-shined me on that whole getting-shit-done-on-the-weekend thing.

I really really really like my new phone. It's fancy and fun and I need a case for it so I don't do a classic Erin klutz move and drop it into a meat grinder or something. There are so many apps to choose from, and I really have no idea which I need (none) or want (all). My brain likes to simply shut down when presented with too many choices (much like my older computational devices) so I haven't done too many yet except Words With Friends and Facebook and foursquare. And two games. And Kindle. And Pandora. And Google Sky Map thing. Ok, I guess I fibbed a little. I have downloaded some. 

The other day I tried to check this thing to see if there were any comments. I typed in the URL, but inadvertently dropped the 's' from 'blogspot'. And lo and behold, up comes this. The Mega Site of Bible Studies. Seriously. All other letters in the URL the same as the page you're looking at now. Oh, the irony...

I've decided that if things in the beer world don't work out, or if I want to pursue a second occupation, I want to get a job writing the little product blurbs for a company like Heartland America. Specifically for items like this fine little gem. Where does one procure such employment?

Friday, April 22, 2011

Let's Get Technological...

I am posting this from a mobile phone. Insane! While not the fastest way to do this, I'm still pretty enthralled. So much stuff to do on this thing. No wonder no one talks to each other anymore.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

In The Year Two-Thousaaaanndd!!!

I am joining the 'smart'phone army. 

I recently developed the fancy-phone crush by seeing everyone I know have these nifty little handheld boxes that do more neat (albeit mostly unneeded) shit than my computer, along with a necessity- yes, an excruciating NEED to play interactive Scrabble-type games with everyone I know. Oh, high-resolution touchscreen... how sexy you are! That perfect complexion; no pimple-like buttons on your face to impede my fingers from running smoothly from your earpiece to your microphone. Your 8MP eye allows me to see the world at its most beautiful. And that lithe figure! So slim, so lightweight: no, I could resist no more. Pair all that with the fact that my current phone-relationship was failing more and more each day. Mr. Motorola takes nice pictures, but has developed an electronic version of narcolepsy. I drop it, it reboots. I set it on a table, it reboots. I unlock the keys, it reboots. I am halfway through a text message, it reboots. I plug it in to the charger, it reboots. I take it out of my pocket, it reboots. I look at it, it reboots. I breathe two rooms away, it reboots. Yeah- it's just not going to work out between us anymore. No matter what I do, you fall apart on me. 

But get this! Not only am I getting my first neat-o electronic gadget (other than a computer), but I've gone all TechnoNerd and PRE-ORDERED one. Yes. I have purchased something that doesn't come out for another three days. What has come over me?? No, it's not an iPhone. I know lots of people will be telling me that that is the end-all-be-all in cellular universe-controllers and what am I thinking OMG I'm just not cool enough and what will you do when the merger goes through??? But those things are more expensive than I was willing to shell out, and I would have had to change my carrier to a more expensive one. So I did the Android thing. 

This thing is going to take me a month to figure out. 

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Targeted Marketing... Nice Try, But No Cigar

These days, no matter what site you go to on the internet more often than not there are advertisements. Those pop-up ads are irritating as hell, though most annoying are those ads that are small and unassuming and generally off to one side that automatically expand and play some mini-commercial complete with sound whenever you accidentally mouse over them. Every time you mouse over them. Sometimes their placement is pretty much in the way, and to avoid seeing the damn thing for the fifth time you have to navigate your cursor across the page much like the little steel ball in one of those infuriating labyrinth games. The people who create these things can go to hell. So can that stupid labyrinth game with its too-many holes and impossible control knobs and too-tilty playing surface. Anyway... I digress...

Then there are the ads of the New Age Big Brother type. The kind that are able to pick up on certain phrases or words that you use often. These ads are considered to be more smartly targeted to you, the consumer, since they are supposedly showing you things and services you obviously can not live without since It (the all-knowing advertising deity) knows for a fact that you once did a Google image search for "cat butt photos", read a humor article that contained a link to an entire blog centered around photos of 'cyclist bulge', and bought a pair of shoes off eBay. It knows all sorts of stuff about all of us. Or so It thinks It does... These targeted ads show up in all sorts of applications- Gmail, Facebook, MySpace (does that still exist?); pretty much anything you sign into. I viewed my own Facebook profile today, and this is what It thinks of me:
Hmmm.
Let's see how close they are... 

I have no desire to be a social worker. Never mentioned such a thing. I know a couple people that are/were one, though. Plus WTF is up with that baby?? Is it stuffed? Being goosed? Or just shocked that It would ever offer a social work program to a vulgar mess like me? 

I'm not looking for an apartment. But I do live in one on TV.

Yes, I'm single. Jesus. Quit reminding me, ass. But I'm not sure this website would give me much luck finding a compatible partner. I'm not Catholic. I live in Georgia. Unless this is It's way of telling me that my possible dating-pool has shrunk from 'above-ground 3-foot-deep inflatable quick-set model from Walmart' size to 'cereal bowl I left outside that got rained in yesterday' size, and that I better just auction myself off to the handful of desperate Catholic men living in a sparsely populated state 3500 miles from here. Like a mail-order bride without the customs problems.

Game over, try again.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

A Hood Rant From A 'Hood Rat

So I have to say a few things about this whole 'Cop Killer' fiasco... and since it might happen, flame away. I get to moderate all my comments anyway, and my blog is not a democracy.

Anyone who lives in or around the Athens area knows what I'm talking about. Hell, all of Georgia knows what I'm talking about. I'm talking about Jamie Hood. THE Jamie Hood... a 33-year-old man who, until Tuesday, was just another black guy living on the east side of downtown Athens. On Tuesday, Hood allegedly committed a carjacking. Cops were called, they went after him/the car. That car was pulled over; the driver was compliant. Hood then stepped out of the passenger side and fired on the cop. That cop was injured, and is still hospitalized. Hood ran, and while running came up on another cruiser with a cop in the driver's seat. Hood fired into the car, killing that officer. He then carjacked another car, and then all hell breaks loose. Manhunt ensues. The car is found empty, leading police to believe that Hood is now on foot, armed, crazed, and who the fuck knows what he'll do. Obviously everyone who has ever known him is surely helping him evade... Schools in Clarke AND surrounding counties go on lock-down. For the next three days, this is the only thing Athens is talking about.

I'm not even entirely sure what the point of my post is. I'm not trying to be self-righteous or defend one position over another. I guess it's just another rant that comes from my "I'm kinda old and I don't give a FUCK what you think about what I say!!" mentality. But I did notice some things about people when something like this happens. And honestly, the things I noticed irritated me to no end.

The biggest thing I noticed while all this was going on was exactly how damn voyeuristic our society is. People wanted to know what was going on with this story up-to-the-second. They wanted live tv and police scanner feeds to show them everything; they all want the newest info first. They want to be the first to tweet these developments, to post them on Facebook, to prove they are completely In The Know. I'm not hating; I am just as nosy as the rest of you. But really- it became all-consuming for many people. But this isn't what really got me ranting....

The next thing that comes to mind is the absolute bullshit "solidarity" that Americans always do whenever there is any sort of tragedy like this. In this case, it was a rally of public service support- 'liking' ACCPD on Facebook, pledging to wear black in remembrance of the officer that was killed, liking/posting links asking for support of completely ludicrous bills that would make the killing of a police officer consequentially worse than the killing of any other human being (are you fucking kidding me? One life is more valuable than another? One deserves the death penalty automatically, even for an attempt at murder, but everyone else is chopped liver? Seriously. Go fuck yourself, author of that bill. A life is a life is a life. Donning a uniform doesn't increase net worth, just as being a poor homeless man doesn't cause worthlessness. What that bill basically says is that if I knowingly take a high-risk job and get killed in the line of duty, my life is worth more as far as the consequences for taking it go than if I keep my job in the office of a brewery and some douchenozzle I've never met blows me away in a gas station robbery or home invasion. Administrative assistants are much fewer points than cops, for you Death Race 2000 fans), joining groups in support of public safety branches, doing 'chain' statuses proclaiming your love of those who protect and serve ("copy and paste if you are or know someone who has served their community!") or simply beating the issue into the ground twice over and every 2 minutes with their own-authored statuses, leaving self-righteous comments on others' pages in response to totally unrelated updates/posts that insinuate that they (the comment poster) are so much more concerned with these current events than everyone else and Why The Hell Aren't You Thinking/Posting About This One Thing Constantly Instead Of Continuing To Live Your Own Life Outside Of The Actions Of Others You Un-American Selfish Bastard! Good grief. Facebook? Really? This is where you're going to work on changing the world? Idiocy. "Oooo! I'm a Good Person! I Liked that on Facebook. Now it's official! And all the others who didn't Like it... crappy people!"

And don't even get me started on the total hypocrisy let loose in comment after comment. Those who on their info pages identify themselves as Christian people-lovers and who have Bible quotes and talk about praying and God and how He is judger of all and blah blah blah things I don't believe in anyway since I'm a soulless heathen.... then turn around and basically pronounce how they think the cops should just shoot the guy, no questions, no trial, no nothing. No kidding. One example is a comment (from someone that I am not 'friends' with, nor would I ever want to be at this point) left in response to my contact's status update of "Jamie Hood surrendering on live TV! Thank you Jesus!", the response of which said, "he wants to surrender "live" on the 11 o'clock news.... I think "live" should be a relative comment". I went to this poster's page, and listed under the Activities and Interests section of her Info page is "Let's see how many true Christians are on FB! Press Like if Jesus is your Savior!". Well, lady, I think you better keep trying. Because all the Sunday school in the world has yet to teach you much at all. With that one comment, this kind Christian woman committed TWO of the seven deadly sins (Wrath and Pride, for those who are wondering). If I could be like Betelgeuse and 'throw' a zipper at the mouths of these people I would. No, not the zipper. That metal plate that silences Barbara towards the end, just before the sand worm comes from nowhere to save the day... yeah, that's what I want.

Regardless, all of this is just Armchair Activism, and it means absolutely nothing. The other part of this phenomenon are the real things (i.e. not internet) that will happen; the promise of increased budget and support of our police departments and jails and other public safety branches by local politicians, the candlelight vigils held for the victims, the citizen outcry/whining about how our dear city has been overrun by criminals, the opinion articles published in the local paper calling for the suspect to be drawn and quartered, and the counter-point articles published afterwards that claim the suspect is a product of a dysfunctional family/community/school system/legal system/brain function/socioeconomic class system/whatever and that The Man did this to him and it's not his fault. Also total crap. Because in a week or so, Charlie Sheen will resurface and say some other nutjob shit and that will capture the attention of us Americans and Oooooo Shiny!!!!

One thing I really am not going to get started on is the fact that Hood was so fearful of being beaten or simply gunned down by the police that he refused to surrender until it was broadcast on live television. And I don't blame him.

The last thing that came out is that people often do refuse to look at the whole picture, and instead feel societally required to take one side or the other. Many were completely against Hood. They called him crazy, psychotic. While he was running, they assumed he was going to go on a rampage and shoot any and all that ended up within his peripheral vision. Once way back when he robbed a pizza guy so he did have a history, after all. Schools were put on lock-down, events cancelled, all focus went on finding this beast.
Others went the bleeding-heart route. He had a rough upbringing. Fell in with bad crowds. His brother was killed by ACC police. He did a long 12 years jail time for a robbery that got him a total of $3. Socioeconomically and racially he was doomed from the start. The Man did this to him.

The thing is, it's a sad story all around. He did have a hard time growing up. That can screw people up. He got into drugs. That can screw people up. His brother was shot and killed by ACC police. That can screw people up, and turn them into cop-haters. He did spend a long time in prison for a robbery that only got him $3. But the fact of the matter on that one is that his charge was for armed robbery, a felony. Because he put a gun into the face of that pizza guy to get those $3. It was just Hood's bad luck that he picked someone with nothing to take. His sentence did fit the crime. But yes, jail can and often does screw a person up. None of this gave him an excuse for what he did. He is an adult with sound mind, and no matter how bad things have been, he had to know going into this that it could and most likely would end badly.

But it appears that lots of people forget that Hood is a human being, just as those two police officers are human beings, and all three of these people have family and friends who love them, and all three of them also have things and people that they love and things that they fear. All of these people have had nightmares. All of these people have cried over something.

 Everyone in this situation has lost something major. Officer Christian lost his life. His wife lost a husband. His children lost a father. Officer Howard lost a coworker. He has also no doubt lost a sense of security in life as well as gained some fear in working his job. Jamie Hood lost his freedom for the second and most likely final time, and possibly his life. Hood's parents lost another son. Luckily no one else was lost in this whole sad mess. Because to everyone closely involved, it's enough loss for a lifetime.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Status Updates That Make Me Reconsider The Sixth Commandment

Welcome to the Digital Age. Now that we're living in The Future, pretty much all human interaction is done via zeros and ones. People have entire conversations via text instead of calling them up and saving 15 minutes. People walk into traffic because they are too consumed with checking in to their newest location. I spent four hours in a van today coming back from Savannah, and two people in the van did not look up from their respective screens the entire time, minus pee breaks and the stop at Dairy Lane in Sandersville. And we learn about what's new in our friends' lives through tweets and status updates instead of, you know, actually fucking hanging out with them. But here's the thing... I, and many others, don't care to know every little mundane detail of your life. Yeah, I update mine too, but some things are just not status-worthy. Because I don't give a rat's ass, and neither do lots of other people. So, here are the status updates/news feed items that I don't give a shit about (or that irritate the ever-living piss out of me). In no particular order:

Yappy McTweeterson  just got out of bed. -about an hour ago
Yappy McTweeterson Is eating a bagel for breakfast!!!1! -52 minutes ago
Yappy McTweeterson nothing better than a nice morning poop. -48 minutes ago
Yappy McTweeterson getting ready to go to work. Bah! Fuck the Man!- 35 minutes ago
Yappy McTweeterson just got to work. Can't wait until 5pm! -15 minutes ago
Yappy McTweeterson I wish my office had decent coffee. Too bad my asshole boss is such a cheapskate.- 12 minutes ago
Yappy McTweeterson is in a super-boring meeting...blah blah blah... Inbox me! -6 minutes ago
Yappy McTweeterson uhoh i think the bossjust caught me on my ipohne... -4 minutes ago
RECENT ACTIVITY
Yappy McTweeterson has left his job at Cubicle Farm. -1 minute ago

OMFG. Yes, Facebook is for social networking. No, it's not Twitter. So don't treat your status like Twitter. Because you're flooding my news feed, and I probably don't like you enough to know what you're doing every 5 minutes. It's a status update, not a real-time ticker tape of your miserable existence. You are not that important, no matter how many times they told you you were special when you were little. High probability of getting 'hidden'.


Overpromoting Parent My kid! My kid! My kid! Photo of my kid! Vote for my kid! My kid! More photos of my kid doing the same thing as in the other photo! My kid! MORE SPECIALER THAN YOUR KID/LIFE/ANYTHING EVARRRR!!!! MYYYYYY KIIIIDDDD!!!! -birth of kid ago ad nauseum

I get it. You are super happy with your kid. You think it's the cutest thing ever. Everything it does is genius. Cool, I can dig why you feel that way. It's a big part of your life. But I really hope you do or think about at least one other thing a week. Because you don't ever talk about anything else, which causes me to worry that you might have an unhealthy obsession. And besides, not to be mean, but you're boring the shit out of the rest of us and/or giving us fodder to make fun of you. Really. Here's a blog about it.


PleaseValidateMe INeedAPatOnTheBack ran 1 mile today. -14 hours ago
PleaseValidateMe INeedAPatOnTheBack did chest and arms at the gym tonight, and ran on the treadmill for 3 minutes. -9 hours ago
PleaseValidateMe INeedAPatOnTheBack made a delish stirfry with three peanuts, a celery stick, and some fish scales in a wonderful and fat-free Olestra sauce. Only 30 calories, but really negative calories since it'll just go right through me!!!! This diet thing is easy! -7 hours ago
PleaseValidateMe INeedAPatOnTheBack my diet and training is finally paying off!! Down 2 pounds since Christmas. But many more to go. More work to be done. -5 hours ago

Ok. I know when someone has struggled with their weight for a while, having a support group with similar experiences to share the small victories can be extremely helpful and encouraging. That's why they make these groups. Facebook isn't one. Just like Overpromoting Parent, when all someone talks about is their workouts and diet plans I think, "Holy Hell. Shut up. You ran yesterday. No big deal. You are dull.' and I have to restrain the sarcastic ass in me from commenting on the awesome donut I just ate and how their whole-wheat pasta and sugar/meat/dairy/gluten/soul-free meal could not have tasted that good because I've had it and it sucks.

MidTwenties TeenFanboi/grl------>WASS UP FbOOKii??!? FOLLOW ME @ TWITTER.......................................... -yesterday
MidTwenties TeenFanboi/grl~~goin 2ATL.... hittin up da club!!! InBoX mE iF u WaNnA cUm WiT uSsSs!! -20 hours ago
MidTwenties TeenFanboi/grl<<<<U don no ME! How u gon Judge---GROW-UP! *singin* ain't no1 gon brake my stride, nobodi's gon SLOOOOWWW me down, Oh No! I got 2 keep on MoViN!! ##GOOD ADVISE##

Absofuckinglutely unforgivable. I mean really. I want to remove my eyeballs with sporks when I see this. Unless you are below the legal driving age there is no excuse for you to be typing this way. There is no excuse for such poor spelling and grammar. Did you graduate from high school? Did you graduate from college? Are you working in a real workplace as some form of a 20-30 something professional? THEN STOP THIS. You don't look cool for being down with the hip lingo. You sound/look like a lobotomized chimpanzee. Facebook gives you enough characters to form complete words. AND complete sentences. Lay off the 'creative' capitalization and for fuck's sake, spell the words you learned in 4th grade correctly. Half the time I have no clue what the hell you're talking about. And these are the people that are also most often guilty of the "I'm'a pose in my car or in front of a mirror throwing signs/making the duckface/ "looking sexy" (aka foolish) and take a pic of myself with my iPhone and everyone will see how gangsta/constipated/"sexy" I am and how clever I am that I took my own photo and see, there in the mirror is my phone so everyone knows I was posing FOR MYSELF" profile photo. And they post these photos of themselves to their walls, and your news feeds, constantly. I lose it on these. STABBY.


Optimistic Fatalist We need more money! Our car is getting sick! We can take donations here... it's just so hard right now. How can we make more money?? But we will survive! -Wednesday
Optimistic Fatalist is sick again. Maybe this time they'll find out what's wrong. I have to have a minor procedure done!!! FML. But we have each other... heart! -Friday
Optimistic Fatalist I looovve my wife/boyfriend/shackup buddy soooooo much!! He/She/It is going to drive me to my minor procedure. 4 days and counting!! Oh no! Hope I get through it ok. -18 hours ago 
Optimistic Fatalist Just don't know where it all goes. Why is it like this? Why does it have to be SO HARD for us??? But I'm strong, and I'll keep chuggin'! -about a minute ago


Hmmm.... this one actually gave me some trouble. Not sure that the name is entirely accurate. But this person almost always does the negative-positive update. The inspiration for my hatred of this kind of update has a rotating selection of about 4 different updates, all with the whine factor followed by something just awesome to him. But gets old when it's always the same. Plus, from my vantage point these folks are generally actually doing pretty ok. So, you're broke. Me too. In this town, that's pretty common. Hell, at least you own/have a house. Someone was rude to you. Also common. But you have a significant other that thinks you're the tits. A lot of people don't have that. You don't feel well. I'm sorry. But also common. You have to get a colonoscopy? Eek, sorry, dude! But you'll live and you don't need to mention it every 7 minutes for a week straight. And all these are fine to update with, but it becomes monotonous and annoying when they're the only things you ever say. I don't hide this type, but tend to start ignoring their posts.


Vaguey McSongLyric Three great things today!! I'm on an upswing.
Vaguey McSongLyric "Darkness falls across the land, the midnight hour is close at hand." -Saturday
Vaguey McSongLyric once again i suffer a dream lost.......... -Monday
Vaguey McSongLyric  "When I get home I turn off the alarm, I've checked the phone, no messages on. I play the ones from yesterday. I play your song just to hear you say that; You, you're the lonely one." sigh -5 hours ago
Vaguey McSongLyric Thanks to my friends for the love. I will be ok. -1 hour ago


This one is also hard to comment on, because everyone does this sometimes. I know I have. And you have too, so shut up and stop fooling yourself. Remember last week when you got depressed/drunk and got all self-loathing and introspective? But this is some peoples' exclusive MO. Obnoxious. Song lyrics are easy to use because we connect with music on an emotional level, and the artist has taken whatever you're feeling and thinking and conveyed it in a much more poetic and poignant way than you ever could have, so you use them. But they don't say what the fuck your problem is. So people ask if you're alright. Then there's the vague BS that just gets people asking for more. Classic attention-seeking. In those, there are no details so people ask (what's the great news?? what's wrong? you ok? what happened?) or sometimes it's clear only a select few were worthy of details, but you're still letting everyone else know that Something Different Or Not Ordinary might or might not have happened. Which will lead those in the dark to ask about you. Again, we're all guilty of this from time to time. But every update??




Uninformed Citizen My political opinions are the truth! If you watched the same news channel I watched instead of that biased crap you would agree! -Sunday
Uninformed Citizen I don't care what the other side says... they're all ignorant nutjobs anyway. Our 'elected' official has no right to his office. Here's the link to the article for proof!!! -27 hours ago
Uninformed Citizen "It's Not Right or Left. It's Right or Wrong!!!" -14 hours ago
Uninformed Citizen Stop the passage of socialist laws! You know who else was a socialist?? HITLER! First death panels, then concentration camps. Keep the commies out of office! -6 hours ago

This one covers two bases. Make that three. I used the political aspect as the example, but it also applies to the Loudly Vocal Christians and the I've Been Living Under A Rock- Holy Shit! Check This Out! groups as well. Either way, it's annoying. Once again, I hope you people have at least one other hobby or friend or maybe a job you can talk about sometimes. These (at least the political/religious) folks also scream about their right to Free Speech! to blast their propaganda on you, but when you try to respond in rational disagreement they suddenly forget that one and don't want to hear it. Even worse are the people who have full access to my Facebook page and who know that I am 1) Yes. A Socialist and 2) An atheist and then send me fucking mass 'private' messages about Obama's Kenyan birth certificate or Jesus and his views on current social issues such as immigration into the US/ gay rights like they're going to convert me with a poorly written 'news article' from World Net Daily. Instant De-Friending, right there. These types of status updates generally just devolve into a comment war of "I'm right", "No, I'M right!", "No, you're stupid!", "Am not!", "Are too!", "Am not!", "Duck season!", "Rabbit season!", "Duck season!", "Duck season!"..... ugh. Just STFU. As far as the Under The Rock crowd goes; they just suddenly latch on to some now-fairly-well-known fact/event/etc. and make just about every post about it like it's big news. When in reality, we all knew this a while ago and they aren't doing anyone any favors. Generally they do the same rebuttal technique when you try to point out errors in their 'news' or when you mention that it's not news anymore and no one else is interested now... of course they have the latest information just released on Wikipedia.


Honorable mentions go to people who use applications and have their every move on them posted to the news feed. I don't care about Farmville, your Top Friends, your stupid horoscope, or what drink you just unlocked. I don't want to share a smile or an iHeart or whatever. I don't want to 'like' every goddamn page on the internet. If you want to invite me to an ACTUAL event, cool. You lost my phone number? Message me. Don't add me to a public group.

I had more, but of course have forgotten...

Yes. I'm a grump. Bah Humbug. And stay off my lawn!

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Dream Weaver...

Thursday Night
A work dream. Sort of. I'm currently carless, so a friend/coworker picks me up on the way into the office in the morning since I'm lucky enough to live just down the street.
In my dream, I wake up for work only to find I've overslept, and Kate's supposed to be at my house to snag me any minute. It's still dark outside (which doesn't ever happen since I don't have to be at work until 9am). My house is not My House; AKA it looks nothing like Childs Street where I actually live. I have this big kitchen, and I use the back door instead of the front, apparently, because I never see any other room of my house. I have a GIANT backyard with a fence running around it and some floodlights lighting it up. It's pretty reminiscent of the field at Terrapin. When I look out the back, there are a bunch of people out there hang gliding. In my backyard. In the dark. (WTF?) I'm frantically running around trying to be ready before Kate gets there and I make us late for work. I try to call her to warn her that I just woke up but she doesn't answer. Then she is knocking on my door, I'm still in my PJs, since this whole time I guess I've been doing nothing but trying to figure out what is going on behind my house. I let her in and apologize for running late, and then say that maybe she should text Tammy (our other coworker/department head) and let her know we're running behind and that we'll be in shortly. Kate says that Tammy already knows we're going to be late because Kate had planned on us doing some hang gliding before we went in and Tammy had said that that was fine. But then Kate says that she doesn't know if we'll have time for hang gliding because she forgot to do her experiment the night before and the results are due today. She asks to use my kitchen, which I let her do, and she proceeds to dig through all these clear beakers and tubes and stuff on this wire rack in my kitchen, asking if I have a really long graduated cylinder. (Most of the stuff there actually looks like the clear plastic pieces you can use to make a hamster/gerbil habitat...) She finds something that will work, and puts together this big thing connecting all the pieces, and pours this thick yellow solution into one end and starts heating it up with a Bunsen burner. I ask her which experiment this is, and she says "It's my Lemon Yeast experiment". The stuff starts boiling and running through the contraption. What I guess is the yeast itself sticks to a bend in the tubing, and the liquid runs out the other end, clear now. Then Kate says she doesn't know what this means since she doesn't know too much about yeast and says we're going to have to wait for Spike to get there and help her figure it out. And that now we really won't have time for hang gliding. Which is still going on in my backyard. Then Spike shows up, says some crap I don't remember about the yeast and Kate writes it down, and says she might have to do the experiment again because she might have missed a step. Spike goes out to join the hang gliding, and while cleaning up the experiment pieces Kate calls Tammy and tells her we are going to come in to work now. Tammy says she's decided to come over and go hang gliding too, so it's cool if we just stay at my house for now. It's still dark. I go to get dressed so we can hang glide, and then I wake up.

Saturday Night
I've made plans to go visit my dad in Cincinnati. Of course, being a dream, time and space are irrelevant, so I go to sleep after announcing my intentions to visit the Queen City, and wake up in my dad's house. Only it's not the house he lives in now. It's the house I grew up in. 11128 Mulligan Street, Sharonville, OH 45241. (513) 554-0378. It's a lovely warm spring morning. The place looks pretty much the same; the Grippo truck is still there, the two maple trees in the front yard, the floor plan is dead-on.  Differences are the lack of cats or dogs (my dad always claimed to be 'done' with pets, but until he left that house he always had at least one and I know he cried when he had to have our samoyed Kodi euthanized). The crabapple tree that was in the backyard when I was little is still there, but it's much larger than it ever got before my dad cut it down. Also, there is some huge building being built directly behind the property. When I ask Dad what it is, he doesn't know. When I ask what they did with the houses that used to be there, he says they are still there, including the residents, inside the new cinderblock walls, that he guesses they will eventually be torn down. Hanging from the eave on the back of the house are a bunch of baskets with almost full-size pumpkins growing in them. I ask if those are Mom's hanging baskets, he says yes. I ask if he knew she planted pumpkins in them, he says he hasn't looked at them since she left. (In this dream, I'm an adult. My mom moved out in 1987). So we go out to look at the pumpkins. Then he decides to show me his current garden. There is half of it on the side of the house (the neighbor's house- Ray and Joan Peltzel, or maybe it was Pelzel; Ray died years ago, I can't imagine Joan is still alive- is now 10 feet further from our house and on a higher plot of land so there is a little embankment) with flowers and something weird I have forgotten growing already. He had planted stuff all the way up the little hill, so there wasn't anywhere to walk. He just walked over the garden to show me stuff. Then he showed me the garden in the backyard. It was in the same spot his garden always was. He thought it was doing pretty well, but didn't want to get closer than 5 feet away or so because he thought his peppers were a little weak and didn't want to scare them away. (?) His garden was packed with plants; hardly any spacing. All different colors of peppers, and big plants that I guess were his tomatoes. Big heads of lettuce. He said he was concerned that when they finished building the giant building (seriously; this thing went for blocks) it would block his sunlight and he'd have to find another place for the garden. How odd that this dream focused on his garden? Then, like every morning, I am awakened by a cat that thinks he's absolutely wasting away because there were fewer than 14 pieces of food on his plate, the equivalent of a Feline Famine.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Island Of The Alive

Well then. Sure has been a while. I didn't actually forget about this blog, but for a while it's not exactly been at the forefront of my thoughts.

Damn, I used to have all sorts of crap to say. Most was just drivel, but still I had no issues with opening the old brain-spigot fully and letting the word diarrhea commence. So how is it that I finally return after more than three months, sign in, and....

nothing.

There is currently not one single smart-ass comment waiting in the wings. No rants against my fellow humanoids. No bad puns or horribly offensive stories or jokes which would allow me to use obscene amounts of profanity. There was stuff in mind before, I promise. Stuff I had planned on writing about. This and that and the other. Where the hell did those bastards go off to??

Have I lost it? My knack for the real,  for my no-added-sugar commentary on my surroundings, my ability to spout off whilst simultaneously boring the ever-living shit out of 50% of you and making 30% of you giggle at least once? (You other 20%... get your hand out of your pants. This is not the blog for that). Or do I just need to drink more beer?

You be the judge.

'Cause I'm back. And by {insert choice of higher power here}, I'm gonna write some shit.

Look out, people.