i've been sort of whiny all day. maybe i didn't sleep well. maybe i don't get enough lycopene or protein or potassium or [insert new fangled vitamin or mineral of the month here]. maybe, and this is just a what if, maybe i'm just cranky. i'm not proud of it, and i sure do need to apologize for it, but doesn't everyone get a cranky day every now and then? it's like a "case of the mondays" even though it's really tuesday.
i didn't accomplish much today; didn't get to a single thing on my list. and i really did have a list. no, i take that back. one item on my list was "find lost speeding ticket and pay it." well, i didn't pay it but i did find it. so i guess i accomplished one half of one thing on my list of things to do today.
yay me!
and i did laundry and i put it away, which is like an all day process. i don't know where my hangers go in between the time that elapses from when i take a shirt out of the closet and when i try to put a shirt back in the closet - they disappear. it's like hanger magic. or perhaps there is a monster that eats my hangers. but everytime i do laundry i have to search for my hangers, which turns into an all day process, as previously mentioned, because i have to go into the summer bedroom to find more hangers and then i end up getting sidetracked by the giant basket of shoes or the box of books or the open sudoku book or chasing the cats or something.
it is so hard to be me. *sigh*
my mom will be pleased to know that i did find the time to apply for jobs today. a couple that i found interesting - they're local to the dbq area - i'm not sure if that's good or bad. i guess it never hurts to look, right? i would be sad to give up my current job. i really like my current job and the benefits that accompany it. and the people aren't too bad, either. but i must do what i must do, right? right.
this is really boring. i'm boring myself here. that's a bad sign. i think i'm going to sign off for the evening before i get really snarky and start writing what i'm really thinking about.
gnite.
Showing posts with label whining. Show all posts
Showing posts with label whining. Show all posts
14 April 2007
i'm not wearing any pants. film at 11.
i didn't go. i prolly would have had a good time but i just didn't want to. the one coworker i just don't trust was going and the other coworker that i just don't trust myself with was going and my conscience tells me it just wouldn't have ended well.
but there's always next weekend.
instead, i came home and talked on the phone and took a bubble bath and watched baseball tonight. cubs won. yankees are currently tied. i love baseball. my fantasy baseball team sucks, though.
it was a nice and quiet evening. but now i can't sleep. i kind of want to play ps2 but i don't want to venture into the roommate's room.
why did i set up my playstation in there?
oh well. i'm going to go read a book and see if i can't fall asleep.
yankees won. :)
but there's always next weekend.
instead, i came home and talked on the phone and took a bubble bath and watched baseball tonight. cubs won. yankees are currently tied. i love baseball. my fantasy baseball team sucks, though.
it was a nice and quiet evening. but now i can't sleep. i kind of want to play ps2 but i don't want to venture into the roommate's room.
why did i set up my playstation in there?
oh well. i'm going to go read a book and see if i can't fall asleep.
yankees won. :)
to go or not to go?
i work in a couple hours. i'd rather be sleeping. but i'm off, supposedly, at 1900 if all goes as scheduled. i'm supposed to go out with a few people from work this evening but i'm just not feeling it, i don't know why. it'd prolly be good for me but after last weekend's shenanigans, i was just sort of looking forward to a nice quiet weekend at home. besides, they go out in cid and then i have to go home to dbq, and the drive sucks sober, i can only imagine how much fun it is after a drink or two.
(mom, i'm kidding.)
it sounds like i'm looking for excuses and i probably am. to go or not to go?
(mom, i'm kidding.)
it sounds like i'm looking for excuses and i probably am. to go or not to go?
24 March 2007
[insert catchy title here]
i'm at work. we don't have any planes for another hour. and so i sit. i'm mentally preparing for the assload of bags that is due to arrive any time, via truck, from ord. i work for an airline - and our bags are arriving by truck. do you see the problem here? there's a big difference between planes and trucks, namely wings and wheels.
i love ord. more than words can describe. it's the end all, be all of airports in this country. and i am at its mercy more often than not, tonight included.
boys and girls, that's called sarcasm. i told you to google it last time. by now, dear reader, you should be well versed.
i didn't get my phone call last night. i was sort of bummed. i realise that my phone dials out, but i wasn't going to call that late last night. i don't like calling that late, i feel bad. so i called today and left a message; i told him i'd call tonight after work. and then i said maybe i won't.
remember that scene in 'along came polly' where polly leaves ruben the voicemail and she's like 'maybe i'll see you there. or not. i don't even know if i'm going. whatever. goodbye.' my message was sort of reminiscent of that. i laughed when i was done talking. lol...
ugh. work. i should go pretend to care for a while...
i love ord. more than words can describe. it's the end all, be all of airports in this country. and i am at its mercy more often than not, tonight included.
boys and girls, that's called sarcasm. i told you to google it last time. by now, dear reader, you should be well versed.
i didn't get my phone call last night. i was sort of bummed. i realise that my phone dials out, but i wasn't going to call that late last night. i don't like calling that late, i feel bad. so i called today and left a message; i told him i'd call tonight after work. and then i said maybe i won't.
remember that scene in 'along came polly' where polly leaves ruben the voicemail and she's like 'maybe i'll see you there. or not. i don't even know if i'm going. whatever. goodbye.' my message was sort of reminiscent of that. i laughed when i was done talking. lol...
ugh. work. i should go pretend to care for a while...
04 March 2007
all present and accounted for...
1308. home. all fish present and accounted for. all kitties present and accounted for. me. i'm home. i'm present and accounted for. and i'm pooped. i worked today, yay me. i decided to go, i didn't have anything better to do and i guess dollars are good.
so i pulled myself away from the 12-hour 'america's next top model' marathon and took my dumb ass to work. have you ever watched that show? sadly for me, it's kind of addicting. because that's like three hours of my life i'll never get back. i'm ashamed to admit it. it's kind of like talking about watching 'mean girls'. the first time i talked about that i just wanted to vomit, it was so embarrassing.
my throat is sore. who knew when you googled for sore throat you'd get this cute lil' bugger (available for purchase for just 5.99£)? apparently he is a giant microbe of streptococcus bacteria which causes 15 percent of sore throats. i think he looks more like a liver or a kidney, which i think prolly has very little to do with sore throats, but sounds more interesting, i think. 'superjanel, you don't sound very good? what's wrong? do you have a sore throat?' 'why yes, yes i do. i think my kidney is inflamed from all the screaming i did at the chili peppers concert last night...' hehehe...
i work with a giant group of idiot mongoloids. each and every one of them, i swear. i'm not saying that our agents in dsm were rocket scientists, by any means, but come on. when the guy working ops has to ask what 'dcn' means and how it affects him, i think we've got some issues. there were five of us tonight: me, the tall emo kid with the speech impediment, the short bald kid that makes up his own language, the chubby beaner with one ball, and the sweet but retarded southern chica who will believe anything you tell her, kid you not. the entertainment for the evening, between flights, obviously, was a spread of old naked women in oprah magazine and an ultimate fighting thing on tv. good times.
as long as we're on the topic, let's talk about oprah magazine. excuse me. the oprah magazine. do you realize that for the last seven years, she's been on like every cover of every issue of her own damn magazine? how fucking conceited is that? i mean, it's already got her name on it. don't we already know that it's oprah? do we really need to see it? and then you get inside, and like every other ad is for oprah this and oprah that. and the stories, like they're all about oprah. and then you get to read about what's on the fucking oprah show. OMFG. get over it. get over yourself. yes, you're rich. and yes, you're important and you've done important things for women and for blacks and for the impoverished and blah, blah, blah... but come on. i'm sick to death of oprah and her ever changing hair and waist size and hearing how amazing she is. and while i hate dr. phil, i hate even more hearing like how she discovered dr. phil.
and in this month's oprah, this one pictured right here to the left, there are pictures of old lady hoohaa. and you know, i'm generally not offended by hoohaa. but i was just all flipping through the pages, and i'm already pissed off because there was nothing else to read and i have to read the oprah magazine and my plane is delayed (because that's what dcn means, motherfuckers, it means i have to stay late... grr) and i'm just flipping away and suddenly i'm confronted with like full frontal old lady hoohaa nakedness. AAAACKK! i about spit my soda all over it. i was not okay. oprah, if you're reading this, and you know you are, i was not okay with the old lady hoohaa. nor was i okay with the old lady and the pancake boobs. i know i'm going to get old. i don't need to see what it's going to look like. ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew... EW. not impressed, oprah, not impressed.
so i think i'm going to bed now. i'm tired. and sort of cranky. i need some nyquil or something. i need a beer. how many days until lent is over?
gnite, lovelies.
love, superfreakindoesn'tevenknowwhatchanneltheoprahshowisoninthiscityjanel
so i pulled myself away from the 12-hour 'america's next top model' marathon and took my dumb ass to work. have you ever watched that show? sadly for me, it's kind of addicting. because that's like three hours of my life i'll never get back. i'm ashamed to admit it. it's kind of like talking about watching 'mean girls'. the first time i talked about that i just wanted to vomit, it was so embarrassing.
my throat is sore. who knew when you googled for sore throat you'd get this cute lil' bugger (available for purchase for just 5.99£)? apparently he is a giant microbe of streptococcus bacteria which causes 15 percent of sore throats. i think he looks more like a liver or a kidney, which i think prolly has very little to do with sore throats, but sounds more interesting, i think. 'superjanel, you don't sound very good? what's wrong? do you have a sore throat?' 'why yes, yes i do. i think my kidney is inflamed from all the screaming i did at the chili peppers concert last night...' hehehe...
i work with a giant group of idiot mongoloids. each and every one of them, i swear. i'm not saying that our agents in dsm were rocket scientists, by any means, but come on. when the guy working ops has to ask what 'dcn' means and how it affects him, i think we've got some issues. there were five of us tonight: me, the tall emo kid with the speech impediment, the short bald kid that makes up his own language, the chubby beaner with one ball, and the sweet but retarded southern chica who will believe anything you tell her, kid you not. the entertainment for the evening, between flights, obviously, was a spread of old naked women in oprah magazine and an ultimate fighting thing on tv. good times.
as long as we're on the topic, let's talk about oprah magazine. excuse me. the oprah magazine. do you realize that for the last seven years, she's been on like every cover of every issue of her own damn magazine? how fucking conceited is that? i mean, it's already got her name on it. don't we already know that it's oprah? do we really need to see it? and then you get inside, and like every other ad is for oprah this and oprah that. and the stories, like they're all about oprah. and then you get to read about what's on the fucking oprah show. OMFG. get over it. get over yourself. yes, you're rich. and yes, you're important and you've done important things for women and for blacks and for the impoverished and blah, blah, blah... but come on. i'm sick to death of oprah and her ever changing hair and waist size and hearing how amazing she is. and while i hate dr. phil, i hate even more hearing like how she discovered dr. phil.and in this month's oprah, this one pictured right here to the left, there are pictures of old lady hoohaa. and you know, i'm generally not offended by hoohaa. but i was just all flipping through the pages, and i'm already pissed off because there was nothing else to read and i have to read the oprah magazine and my plane is delayed (because that's what dcn means, motherfuckers, it means i have to stay late... grr) and i'm just flipping away and suddenly i'm confronted with like full frontal old lady hoohaa nakedness. AAAACKK! i about spit my soda all over it. i was not okay. oprah, if you're reading this, and you know you are, i was not okay with the old lady hoohaa. nor was i okay with the old lady and the pancake boobs. i know i'm going to get old. i don't need to see what it's going to look like. ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew... EW. not impressed, oprah, not impressed.
so i think i'm going to bed now. i'm tired. and sort of cranky. i need some nyquil or something. i need a beer. how many days until lent is over?
gnite, lovelies.
love, superfreakindoesn'tevenknowwhatchanneltheoprahshowisoninthiscityjanel
04 February 2007
i hate peyton manning.
i have a lot of respect for tony dungy. but peyton manning is a big whiny sucky baby. and now that he's won a super bowl, la-de-fucking-da, i'm going to have to put up with seeing his ugly buck tooth mug all over everywhere. i'm not okay with this.
look at him. smug bastard. i say no more. i say we stand strong and boycott. for no other reason than because he already has more money than god and he's already in like 59 percent of all television commercials. this is going to get ugly folks. but we have the power to stop it.
and i'm not even an over the top bears fan. i say go 'boys. but i tend to root for the underdogs and there are no bigger underdogs than the chicago bizzears. plus i think lovie smith is just an all around swell guy.
in other news...
somewhere, under this pile of boxes is the gran massa champ's bed. i'm not sure where. unpack your shit, man. i'm tired of looking at it. ugh.
i still have homework to do. toodles!
look at him. smug bastard. i say no more. i say we stand strong and boycott. for no other reason than because he already has more money than god and he's already in like 59 percent of all television commercials. this is going to get ugly folks. but we have the power to stop it.and i'm not even an over the top bears fan. i say go 'boys. but i tend to root for the underdogs and there are no bigger underdogs than the chicago bizzears. plus i think lovie smith is just an all around swell guy.
in other news...
somewhere, under this pile of boxes is the gran massa champ's bed. i'm not sure where. unpack your shit, man. i'm tired of looking at it. ugh.
i still have homework to do. toodles!
03 February 2007
what's with today today?
i had a long, beautiful eloquent post written. but ie crashed and took my unpublished post with it. fucking whores. so rather than rewrite the entire thing, because 1) words of such a poetic nature could never be rewritten and 2) i don't really remember everything i wrote about, i'll just give you a highlights paragraph and go from there...
- it's fucking cold.
- i'm fucking cold.
- it's fucking cold outside.
- it's fucking cold inside too.
- it's not going to warm up any time soon.
- i hate winter.
- my brother's sofa is absolutely hideous.
- but it's really comfy.
- i slept well.
- no naps behind the country kitchen for me today. :)
- and i didn't stab him.
- i don't even know what a shank is.
- my nose ring doesn't hurt today.
- and it's fucking cold.
i think that about covers it. there was some other stuff too, some whining about work and blah, blah, blah, but that's pretty typical and i can dish that shit out anytime, anywhere.
going on 1400. only one more hour of work and then i'm going shopping. shopping warms the soul, doesn't it? maybe that was soup. shit, i don't know. i have an asston of homework to do and i'm not going to get it done until absolute last minute because that's how i roll.
word.
i wore my starfish shoes the other day and my toe's all still broken, right? yeah, not a good idea. but my feet looked really cute. never mind that i couldn't walk upright, i was limping so bad. my shoes were cute and that's the main idea.
i have a friend that wants to set me up. i don't know if this is a good idea. ugh. i'm just now getting over my last blind date... that was about seven years ago.
61 minutes until shopping. 56 days until opening day. rock.
peas out.
love, superfreakinshortattentionspanjanel
02 February 2007
get off my property, you bastard
ahh. job # only. it's that time of the week where i pretend to be among the ranks of the employed. except this week i'm pretending to be employed for two days instead of my usual one so this is extra taxing on the janel. (i love talking about myself in the third person.)
i'm already tired. i was up at the ass crack of the ass crack of pre-dawn this morning. it was fucking early, kiddos. there was a full moon - it was beautiful, reflecting off the clouds and the snow, it almost seemed like daylight, only darker. i was so tired i stopped and slept for half an hour behind the country kitchen in newton. i just couldn't keep my eyes awake. and i woke up starving for pancakes. the janel is always hungry for pancakes. always.
i'm in the midst of a heated debate: are goldfish really supposed to eat oranges? they certainly like them. the research i have conducted leads me to believe that goldfish will eat just about anything that's placed in their tank, including bananas and peas and shrimpies. weird, huh? who knew goldfish were cannibalistic?
so right now, its going on 1730 and there are people here trying to buy a car. at 1730. that's closing time, dickheads. i have places to be. compound that with the fact that i've missed my 1600 feeding time and i'm none to happy to be working at this moment. grrr... i'm supposed to be on my way to the dutch village for mexican and margaritas (well, i may be the only one drinking margaritas, i'm not sure) with the fam. good times are to be had by all. or at least by me. i'm going to have the one that's as big as my head. with two straws. mango if they have it. yum. bring on the salsa, bitches. i wonder how you say that in espanola.
no, not really. i really don't care. i'm just hungry. hurry this shit up.
i'm already tired. i was up at the ass crack of the ass crack of pre-dawn this morning. it was fucking early, kiddos. there was a full moon - it was beautiful, reflecting off the clouds and the snow, it almost seemed like daylight, only darker. i was so tired i stopped and slept for half an hour behind the country kitchen in newton. i just couldn't keep my eyes awake. and i woke up starving for pancakes. the janel is always hungry for pancakes. always.
i'm in the midst of a heated debate: are goldfish really supposed to eat oranges? they certainly like them. the research i have conducted leads me to believe that goldfish will eat just about anything that's placed in their tank, including bananas and peas and shrimpies. weird, huh? who knew goldfish were cannibalistic?
so right now, its going on 1730 and there are people here trying to buy a car. at 1730. that's closing time, dickheads. i have places to be. compound that with the fact that i've missed my 1600 feeding time and i'm none to happy to be working at this moment. grrr... i'm supposed to be on my way to the dutch village for mexican and margaritas (well, i may be the only one drinking margaritas, i'm not sure) with the fam. good times are to be had by all. or at least by me. i'm going to have the one that's as big as my head. with two straws. mango if they have it. yum. bring on the salsa, bitches. i wonder how you say that in espanola.
no, not really. i really don't care. i'm just hungry. hurry this shit up.
31 January 2007
a preface is necessary
any misspellings - well, let me apologize in advance. i'm typing as slow as i can fathom but i'm not making any guarantees. the tears in my eyes don't allow for kosher proofreading conditions and i'll be the first to admit that i've had too much to drink but it didn't stop me from asking for more.
i miss my life. i miss my house. i miss the husband i thought i had. i miss our inside jokes and our snide comments. i miss the best friend i used to have and the level of comfort i used to have in my own home. i miss being me. because now, i'm a fragment of me, living in a shard of my old life. and some days i can barely stand the reality i've created for myself. the sad thing is that it didn't have to end up this way - this is the outcome of my own instigations. so i have no one else to blame.
but me.
i'm in love with myself, my old way of thinking and the person its allowed me to become. unfortunately, life won't let me be that person. i've been laid off from a job sector i apparently invented - because no one else lives or works in this fantasy land that i've created.
sometimes i just want it all to go away. sometimes i wish i'd succeeded.
i miss my life. i miss my house. i miss the husband i thought i had. i miss our inside jokes and our snide comments. i miss the best friend i used to have and the level of comfort i used to have in my own home. i miss being me. because now, i'm a fragment of me, living in a shard of my old life. and some days i can barely stand the reality i've created for myself. the sad thing is that it didn't have to end up this way - this is the outcome of my own instigations. so i have no one else to blame.
but me.
i'm in love with myself, my old way of thinking and the person its allowed me to become. unfortunately, life won't let me be that person. i've been laid off from a job sector i apparently invented - because no one else lives or works in this fantasy land that i've created.
sometimes i just want it all to go away. sometimes i wish i'd succeeded.
18 January 2007
is it behind the sofa in the kitchen?
OMG. the next time i say i want to move, someone just fucking shoot me. really. this should not be this painful. and i'm not even talking about boxes or heavy furniture. (and that shit hurts and i'll talk about that in a moment.) holy shit. really. whomever thought it would be a good idea to put two indecisive and incompetent drama queens in a house on the other side of a river needs a fucking lobotomy. i'm not saying indecisive and incompetent in a bad way; i'm saying it in an interesting, don't ever leave anything on the kitchen counter you don't want the world to know about kind of way. because we both talk way too much and we both have camera phones. omg.
so. i don't even know where to begin. in fact, some of it has been so traumatic i don't even want to talk about it. this morning i woke up and i just had a serious 'what the fuck am i doing?' moment except that i didn't really want to talk to anyone about it because i know that this is the bed that i've made and i have to lie in it. there comes a point where you wonder if you're just compounding mistake on top of mistake and you're not sure where one stops and another begins and what is right and what is wrong. i'm at that point. in theory, this is a good idea. change is good for me. but the reality of the situation is that i'm running away from unresolved issues and emotions and every now and then i just catch myself crying for no good reason except that the gran massa champ points and says cry and i just do. like right now. and then i can't stop.
and i really don't want to talk about it. i don't know what to say and nothing will really fix it. i know i've messed up. i just have to find a path that's going to lead to something good. and peaceful. i'm tired of the stress and drama and ongoing saga that has become my life. i don't want to be like this. i'm better than this. but i keep resorting back to this.
some days i wake up and i can hardly bear to get out of bed, i want to lie and fester in my own misery. but i know that if i don't get up, one day will turn into two and two into three and three into a week and a week into a month and a month into a year and a year into a lifetime and instead of thirty minus four i'll be dead. that's how much i can't stand what i've created for myself sometimes. so i get up. and i make myself cute and i smile and pretend that what i'm feeling on the inside isn't real and if i don't think about it, it doesn't exist. until i do something big and serious like move three hours away from everyone i know and i don't have anything to do but think (and drive people around). so instead, i try to be happy with small things. like my cats. and milk in glass bottles. and peach margaritas and misting fans and dark chocolate candy bars and lip gloss and new notebooks and pencils and sales at american eagle (the store, not the airline). because sometimes that's all i have to be happy about. or at least all that comes to mind sometimes.
but the point of this is not to wallow in being sad. i guess we can all tell i'm good at that. (if you haven't picked up on that just yet, call me. we can talk.) i just need to find my path, my way, my road. i just don't know if it's here. it's prolly too soon to tell, and honestly, today of all days is not the day to be making decisions such as that anyway. my mood swings like a giant pendulum and i fear for the safety of those around me. i'm up, i'm down, i'm drunk, i'm sober. i will say that if nothing else, this will be an educational experience, not necessarily courtesy of the university of dbq.
so for right now, i'm going to go to the kitchen and sit on my sofa, which is upside down and cushion-less and eat some ice cream. it's not pella ice cream company ice cream, but it's ice cream. and i'm going to survey the damage and try to figure out how to put my life in order one small piece at a time, starting with the silverware.
peas out.
love,
superfreakinemotionallysensitivejanel
ps. hi mom. i miss you.
so. i don't even know where to begin. in fact, some of it has been so traumatic i don't even want to talk about it. this morning i woke up and i just had a serious 'what the fuck am i doing?' moment except that i didn't really want to talk to anyone about it because i know that this is the bed that i've made and i have to lie in it. there comes a point where you wonder if you're just compounding mistake on top of mistake and you're not sure where one stops and another begins and what is right and what is wrong. i'm at that point. in theory, this is a good idea. change is good for me. but the reality of the situation is that i'm running away from unresolved issues and emotions and every now and then i just catch myself crying for no good reason except that the gran massa champ points and says cry and i just do. like right now. and then i can't stop.
and i really don't want to talk about it. i don't know what to say and nothing will really fix it. i know i've messed up. i just have to find a path that's going to lead to something good. and peaceful. i'm tired of the stress and drama and ongoing saga that has become my life. i don't want to be like this. i'm better than this. but i keep resorting back to this.
some days i wake up and i can hardly bear to get out of bed, i want to lie and fester in my own misery. but i know that if i don't get up, one day will turn into two and two into three and three into a week and a week into a month and a month into a year and a year into a lifetime and instead of thirty minus four i'll be dead. that's how much i can't stand what i've created for myself sometimes. so i get up. and i make myself cute and i smile and pretend that what i'm feeling on the inside isn't real and if i don't think about it, it doesn't exist. until i do something big and serious like move three hours away from everyone i know and i don't have anything to do but think (and drive people around). so instead, i try to be happy with small things. like my cats. and milk in glass bottles. and peach margaritas and misting fans and dark chocolate candy bars and lip gloss and new notebooks and pencils and sales at american eagle (the store, not the airline). because sometimes that's all i have to be happy about. or at least all that comes to mind sometimes.
but the point of this is not to wallow in being sad. i guess we can all tell i'm good at that. (if you haven't picked up on that just yet, call me. we can talk.) i just need to find my path, my way, my road. i just don't know if it's here. it's prolly too soon to tell, and honestly, today of all days is not the day to be making decisions such as that anyway. my mood swings like a giant pendulum and i fear for the safety of those around me. i'm up, i'm down, i'm drunk, i'm sober. i will say that if nothing else, this will be an educational experience, not necessarily courtesy of the university of dbq.
so for right now, i'm going to go to the kitchen and sit on my sofa, which is upside down and cushion-less and eat some ice cream. it's not pella ice cream company ice cream, but it's ice cream. and i'm going to survey the damage and try to figure out how to put my life in order one small piece at a time, starting with the silverware.
peas out.
love,
superfreakinemotionallysensitivejanel
ps. hi mom. i miss you.
03 January 2007
domo arigato, mr. roboto
i hate moving. i mean, i really hate moving. the act of putting things in boxes and taking those boxes and transporting them to a new location puts me in a rage, a physical and mental rage. i'm far more likely to break things, destroy things, throw things away - things that used to mean something to me - when i'm in the process of moving, just because i can't stand the process itself. add that to the fact that moving out of this apartment means 16 stairs up and 16 stairs down and i'm ready to shoot someone. i don't know whose dumbass idea it was to move all the way up here, but it was fucking retarded. that person needs to be taken outside and flogged. gahh.
roberto and i hauled several loads of crap to my new storage facility today. i'm tired. my arms are sore. my shoulders are sore. my feet are sore. my new shoes are super cute but they're not great for lots and lots of stairs. i bought a padlock, but i found out it only works when you remember to shut the door on your storage unit before you drive off. i am a retard, i know.
i was going to go out tonight, but after i came home and rearranged and packed some more, i had no energy. the idea of driving all the way to dsm and then driving all the way back takes all the fun out of drinking heavily. that and all the dui commercials and all the people i know getting dui's... i can't afford that. no domo arigato, mr. roboto.
ugh. i think i have to get up early in the morning, but i'm not sure. prospective (ha. i didn't stutter there, did i?) roomie and i are supposed to go look at a place to live in the morning. that's a long, long drive that early, but he's committed to driving. maybe i can sleep. :D
g'nite. i'm pooped.
roberto and i hauled several loads of crap to my new storage facility today. i'm tired. my arms are sore. my shoulders are sore. my feet are sore. my new shoes are super cute but they're not great for lots and lots of stairs. i bought a padlock, but i found out it only works when you remember to shut the door on your storage unit before you drive off. i am a retard, i know.
i was going to go out tonight, but after i came home and rearranged and packed some more, i had no energy. the idea of driving all the way to dsm and then driving all the way back takes all the fun out of drinking heavily. that and all the dui commercials and all the people i know getting dui's... i can't afford that. no domo arigato, mr. roboto.
ugh. i think i have to get up early in the morning, but i'm not sure. prospective (ha. i didn't stutter there, did i?) roomie and i are supposed to go look at a place to live in the morning. that's a long, long drive that early, but he's committed to driving. maybe i can sleep. :D
g'nite. i'm pooped.
30 December 2006
i need a tranquilizer. a large one. maybe two.
ugh. it's coming up on 2300 and i'm awake. not just awake, but awake from six hours of sleep. i came home from job #2 and went to bed. not the smartest thing i've done but the only thing i could fathom doing. and now i'm not tired enough to go back to sleep but i don't have enough energy to get up and do anything worthwhile so here i am. god, isn't it rough being me?
i was laying here thinking of all the thing i have to do this week - and it seems everytime i turn around the list gets just a lil' bit longer - and i'm getting a tad bit overwhelmed. i don't want to say that i'm regretting the decision that i have made because one, i don't regret it, and two, i don't believe in regrets, but i think i'm coming to terms with the reality that i've created. does that make sense? like, i can think about this in two ways. one is all rosy and fuzzy at the edges and the other is all black and white and fucking scary. because real world here, i'm talking about uprooting my life (again, for the second time in four months) in a matter of about 14 days, give or take, to a town where i know two people, i have no job, no place to live, no school, and no sense of direction. oh, and at least two people already prolly hate me. omfg. i must be retarded. or crazy. is there a difference? it doesn't really matter; i've already committed and the letters of recommendation are on their way. if i don't have an ulcer now i will by 16jan. i can feel it already.
i was laying here thinking of all the thing i have to do this week - and it seems everytime i turn around the list gets just a lil' bit longer - and i'm getting a tad bit overwhelmed. i don't want to say that i'm regretting the decision that i have made because one, i don't regret it, and two, i don't believe in regrets, but i think i'm coming to terms with the reality that i've created. does that make sense? like, i can think about this in two ways. one is all rosy and fuzzy at the edges and the other is all black and white and fucking scary. because real world here, i'm talking about uprooting my life (again, for the second time in four months) in a matter of about 14 days, give or take, to a town where i know two people, i have no job, no place to live, no school, and no sense of direction. oh, and at least two people already prolly hate me. omfg. i must be retarded. or crazy. is there a difference? it doesn't really matter; i've already committed and the letters of recommendation are on their way. if i don't have an ulcer now i will by 16jan. i can feel it already.
27 December 2006
i'm back, i'm back... you know you missed me!
yay me, yay me! i don't know how, i don't know why, but i'm back! is it temporary? is it permanent? i don't care! i'm here!
(i started this this morning, pre-rebirth of internet...)
another blog update from the land of the internet-less. would you care for an update in the ongoing saga of superjanel vs. the giant corporate conglomerate iowa telecom? no? too freaking bad. i'm going on five days - five - 5 - FIVE - without internet in my house now. and for those of you that know me, you know that this is killing me. my laptop is an extension of my body; i check my email compulsively. except for this week. so yesterday i get to speak with my post-holiday sobered up level two technician and the first question the dumb bastard asks me is, "is the modem plugged in?" if i weren't so desperately in need of a connection, i would have liked to say 'oh, no, you're right, that's it...this big black plug goes into the wall!' but alas, i did not and instead i played 20 (simple) questions with a level two "highly educated" technician. they're supposed to be sending out an inspector of sorts to look at the modem, because they can't seem to grasp the idea that my power light is always red and has never been green but what the fuck ever. ugh. i hate them, i hate them, i hate them.
what else? i guess i could have blogged from c-town after the xmas festivities but truth be told, i was pooped with a capital O. (the second one. not the first one.) my mom is wonderful. all of those silly little things i say i like throughout the course of a year she mentally files away and surprises me with, i would have never guessed that she remembered some of the stuff i got. it was great. aunt shell and robbie and schmalex and carli and even the infamous connah were still there when i finally made my appearance, so it was nice to hang with the fam and let them see me. carli is adorable, even if she does talk a lot. a whole heck of a lot. over and over and over. i guess i'm a little old school, you know, the school where children should be seen and not heard? but it didn't work so well for me, so i prolly shouldn't judge. if i could have changed anything about the holiday it would have been the fact that i would have like to get just one more thing for my momma, she deserved more than i got her. i know she's happy with what she received, but i just felt a little down about it.
xmas eve and xmas day i worked. it really wasn't too bad. the baggage scene was a little frantic but it made the days go by fast. my best good work friend, bless his heart, gave me a book. at first glance you might think that it's just a harmless little cookbook, decorated with sweet little innocent cookies on the cover, but read a few pages and you'll find that the cookies are a bit more devious. in fact the actual cookie recipe doesn't even come until the very last page. :) all i can say is that i've never seen gingerbread boys (and girls) in such compromising positions and i don't think they come bent in those shapes from the supermarket. in fact, i don't know if i can ever eat a gingerbread cookie again and not blush. but it made me laugh and i loved it. :)
xmas night. after bringing me pie to make my day at work go faster (or just to shut me up, i'm really not sure), my best good work friend invited me to eat his leftovers and watch movies with he and his bf. i've never eaten ribs and i've never spent xmas night watching borderline soft porn with homos. what can i say? i'm branching out.
so. here we are, two days after the big day. it's 0925 and i'm waiting on the inspector to inspect my red light. (hmmm...?) i'm watching the weather channel and contemplating life. i'm in the midst of a big decision, and it's possible that you're all going to think i'm nuts, more than usual, but i need to discuss this.
first, let me give you some background. i have a degree. it's an expensive degree. the cost of my degree is similar to the national debt load of the country of belguim, i imagine. big. large. ginormous. no, really, i'm not kidding. and now that i have my degree and i'm supposed to be all gainfully employed and so on and so forth, i'm supposed to be making payments on my student loans. well, the key phrase to hear out of that sentence is "supposed to" because, as with a few other things that i'm "supposedly" obligated to pay, i'm just not getting it done. now don't get me wrong, it's not that i don't know that i'm supposed to pay these things, it's just that you can't get blood from a turnip, sweet pea. if it's not there, it's not there. what do you do?
so. another thing to know is that i've been considering a major life change. for me, it would be a complete 180 from my pampered life of poptarts and vitamin water. this is something that i've wanted to do for a long time, pre- a lot of things but it never seemed to fit. well, now it sort of seems to fit. except that i'm facing a new opportunity of sorts that i'm sort of interested in and that would assist my situation in a couple of different ways.
i'm talking in circles.
okay. i'm thinking about moving about three hours away and going back to grad school or moving about three continents away and working for a government-funded humanitarian movement.
i like both ideas. going back to school would put my loans back in deferment while i figured out what i wanted to do with my life. it's not as severe as living in the congo and i could still move to africa if i wanted to, if i decided school wasn't the right thing to do or after i graduate (again). however, i'm in the midst of applying with the humanitarian movement and discussing options available to me there. working for such an operation also puts my student loans in deferment, or at least some of them.
i'm just not sure. i'm just pretty sure that the dutch village is not where it's at, at least for this chica. so again, i ask, if anyone wants to buy a big ass dining room table and six chairs - let me know. i've got one for sale. :)
(i started this this morning, pre-rebirth of internet...)
another blog update from the land of the internet-less. would you care for an update in the ongoing saga of superjanel vs. the giant corporate conglomerate iowa telecom? no? too freaking bad. i'm going on five days - five - 5 - FIVE - without internet in my house now. and for those of you that know me, you know that this is killing me. my laptop is an extension of my body; i check my email compulsively. except for this week. so yesterday i get to speak with my post-holiday sobered up level two technician and the first question the dumb bastard asks me is, "is the modem plugged in?" if i weren't so desperately in need of a connection, i would have liked to say 'oh, no, you're right, that's it...this big black plug goes into the wall!' but alas, i did not and instead i played 20 (simple) questions with a level two "highly educated" technician. they're supposed to be sending out an inspector of sorts to look at the modem, because they can't seem to grasp the idea that my power light is always red and has never been green but what the fuck ever. ugh. i hate them, i hate them, i hate them.
what else? i guess i could have blogged from c-town after the xmas festivities but truth be told, i was pooped with a capital O. (the second one. not the first one.) my mom is wonderful. all of those silly little things i say i like throughout the course of a year she mentally files away and surprises me with, i would have never guessed that she remembered some of the stuff i got. it was great. aunt shell and robbie and schmalex and carli and even the infamous connah were still there when i finally made my appearance, so it was nice to hang with the fam and let them see me. carli is adorable, even if she does talk a lot. a whole heck of a lot. over and over and over. i guess i'm a little old school, you know, the school where children should be seen and not heard? but it didn't work so well for me, so i prolly shouldn't judge. if i could have changed anything about the holiday it would have been the fact that i would have like to get just one more thing for my momma, she deserved more than i got her. i know she's happy with what she received, but i just felt a little down about it.
xmas eve and xmas day i worked. it really wasn't too bad. the baggage scene was a little frantic but it made the days go by fast. my best good work friend, bless his heart, gave me a book. at first glance you might think that it's just a harmless little cookbook, decorated with sweet little innocent cookies on the cover, but read a few pages and you'll find that the cookies are a bit more devious. in fact the actual cookie recipe doesn't even come until the very last page. :) all i can say is that i've never seen gingerbread boys (and girls) in such compromising positions and i don't think they come bent in those shapes from the supermarket. in fact, i don't know if i can ever eat a gingerbread cookie again and not blush. but it made me laugh and i loved it. :)
xmas night. after bringing me pie to make my day at work go faster (or just to shut me up, i'm really not sure), my best good work friend invited me to eat his leftovers and watch movies with he and his bf. i've never eaten ribs and i've never spent xmas night watching borderline soft porn with homos. what can i say? i'm branching out.
so. here we are, two days after the big day. it's 0925 and i'm waiting on the inspector to inspect my red light. (hmmm...?) i'm watching the weather channel and contemplating life. i'm in the midst of a big decision, and it's possible that you're all going to think i'm nuts, more than usual, but i need to discuss this.
first, let me give you some background. i have a degree. it's an expensive degree. the cost of my degree is similar to the national debt load of the country of belguim, i imagine. big. large. ginormous. no, really, i'm not kidding. and now that i have my degree and i'm supposed to be all gainfully employed and so on and so forth, i'm supposed to be making payments on my student loans. well, the key phrase to hear out of that sentence is "supposed to" because, as with a few other things that i'm "supposedly" obligated to pay, i'm just not getting it done. now don't get me wrong, it's not that i don't know that i'm supposed to pay these things, it's just that you can't get blood from a turnip, sweet pea. if it's not there, it's not there. what do you do?
so. another thing to know is that i've been considering a major life change. for me, it would be a complete 180 from my pampered life of poptarts and vitamin water. this is something that i've wanted to do for a long time, pre- a lot of things but it never seemed to fit. well, now it sort of seems to fit. except that i'm facing a new opportunity of sorts that i'm sort of interested in and that would assist my situation in a couple of different ways.
i'm talking in circles.
okay. i'm thinking about moving about three hours away and going back to grad school or moving about three continents away and working for a government-funded humanitarian movement.
i like both ideas. going back to school would put my loans back in deferment while i figured out what i wanted to do with my life. it's not as severe as living in the congo and i could still move to africa if i wanted to, if i decided school wasn't the right thing to do or after i graduate (again). however, i'm in the midst of applying with the humanitarian movement and discussing options available to me there. working for such an operation also puts my student loans in deferment, or at least some of them.
i'm just not sure. i'm just pretty sure that the dutch village is not where it's at, at least for this chica. so again, i ask, if anyone wants to buy a big ass dining room table and six chairs - let me know. i've got one for sale. :)
23 December 2006
i will motivate you, private pyle...
gahhh. my internet at home is down. i don't know why. it worked yesterday morning and last night when i got home, there was nothing. it just blinks to high heaven with nothing to connect to, and it's irritating the holy hell out of me. there's nothing specific i want to do, but the fact that i can't do anything just perturbs me. (isn't that a great word? perturb. it just sort of stutters off your tongue, you can't say it gracefully.)
so. what else is new? last night was chrisgiving (or thanksmas) with momma and the fam. all were there except steph, who had to go hang clothes at target. poor steph. i often think my job sucks but that job would suck at a degree to beat all jobs. dinner was wonderful - mom was making up for the fact that some of us didn't get a real thanksgiving dinner the first time around, not that we really need it. but it was great. i don't get down to c-town very often, i'm not sure why.
i'm at job#2 right now. i overslept this morning after falling asleep early last night and just not setting an alarm at all. dork. i've been sick all week. really, really sick. thursday, roberto had to drive my sick ass to the doctor so i could get a shot. this time, instead of torodol, which sort of works, dr. moron gave me a short of visteril (or something like that). i went from painful headache to fully stoned in about 4.7 seconds, which was completely unexpected but not necessarily unenjoyed... i slept for a full 13 hours, from 1330 to 0140, ate dinner at 0200 on friday morning, and went back to bed for another seven hours. that's messed up. my sleep patterns are all screwy. i missed a crazy amount of work this week, which pretty much ensures that i'm not going anywhere on my vacation the first week of january, which sucks. but i have other things to do. i have a project at job #2 to start and finish. and i need to go visit my gram, she's not well. and i want to visit my dog. so i'll just have to visit kuala lumpur and switzerland and ghana and fargo in march.
yesterday i finished my xmas shopping with a flying trip to the big city. i'm turning more and more antisocial by the day - i hate the obscene shopping mall scene, especially the weekend before christmas. yuck. there were definitely more men than women and the line of husbands/boyfriends/significant others at the coach store made me laugh. i was there for all of seven songs on my ipod, which had to be some sort of record for me. but i got all but one thing i needed, the last thing i need i'll order online and send to roberto's email. isn't that festive of me?
tonight is dinner with father and stepmummy. meatloaf. it's going to be phenomenal. but this will fulfill my holiday obligation and i can then eat chocolate cheesecake with a guilt-free conscious.
peas out.
so. what else is new? last night was chrisgiving (or thanksmas) with momma and the fam. all were there except steph, who had to go hang clothes at target. poor steph. i often think my job sucks but that job would suck at a degree to beat all jobs. dinner was wonderful - mom was making up for the fact that some of us didn't get a real thanksgiving dinner the first time around, not that we really need it. but it was great. i don't get down to c-town very often, i'm not sure why.
i'm at job#2 right now. i overslept this morning after falling asleep early last night and just not setting an alarm at all. dork. i've been sick all week. really, really sick. thursday, roberto had to drive my sick ass to the doctor so i could get a shot. this time, instead of torodol, which sort of works, dr. moron gave me a short of visteril (or something like that). i went from painful headache to fully stoned in about 4.7 seconds, which was completely unexpected but not necessarily unenjoyed... i slept for a full 13 hours, from 1330 to 0140, ate dinner at 0200 on friday morning, and went back to bed for another seven hours. that's messed up. my sleep patterns are all screwy. i missed a crazy amount of work this week, which pretty much ensures that i'm not going anywhere on my vacation the first week of january, which sucks. but i have other things to do. i have a project at job #2 to start and finish. and i need to go visit my gram, she's not well. and i want to visit my dog. so i'll just have to visit kuala lumpur and switzerland and ghana and fargo in march.
yesterday i finished my xmas shopping with a flying trip to the big city. i'm turning more and more antisocial by the day - i hate the obscene shopping mall scene, especially the weekend before christmas. yuck. there were definitely more men than women and the line of husbands/boyfriends/significant others at the coach store made me laugh. i was there for all of seven songs on my ipod, which had to be some sort of record for me. but i got all but one thing i needed, the last thing i need i'll order online and send to roberto's email. isn't that festive of me?
tonight is dinner with father and stepmummy. meatloaf. it's going to be phenomenal. but this will fulfill my holiday obligation and i can then eat chocolate cheesecake with a guilt-free conscious.
peas out.
20 December 2006
okay. so maybe i'm overly dramatic.
i'm not dead. not anywhere close. but for the record, i still don't feel ... right. i don't know. i'm a little off kilter this morning, maybe from the shot i got or becausei didn't sleep at all last night. i saw every hour from the minute i crawled into bed to the moment i had to get up to go to the bathroom, prolly because i slept so much yesterday. so today, no matter how tired i am, i'm staying awake. yup, i'm staying home again. i'm prolly going to get fired now. or at least put on a step. what do you do? go to work sick or stay home and get in trouble? i generally don't have any trouble calling in sick except i really love my job so i always feel really guilty when i call in.
there are things i need to do today, which i doubt i get done. i have a lady waiting on a longaberger basket that i need to ship. and i have some paperwork i need to mail. and some bills to pay, laundry, i have laundry to do and floors to vacuum and blah blah blah... crap, it's all crap, and i don't want to do it, any of it. so there.
the president is on tv. he's stuttering and blabbing his way through the open question session. i think a president should have to win an academic decathlon before being sworn in. he should be able to debate his way out of a wet paper bag, he should be able to associate composers and musical pieces, he should be able to bake a fine souffle, he should be able to win a spelling bee. if we'd subjected our current president to an academic decathlon, we wouldn't be listening to him stutter and him and haw right now when i should be watching ellen.
there's got to be something else i can be doing with my time. i'll be back...
there are things i need to do today, which i doubt i get done. i have a lady waiting on a longaberger basket that i need to ship. and i have some paperwork i need to mail. and some bills to pay, laundry, i have laundry to do and floors to vacuum and blah blah blah... crap, it's all crap, and i don't want to do it, any of it. so there.
the president is on tv. he's stuttering and blabbing his way through the open question session. i think a president should have to win an academic decathlon before being sworn in. he should be able to debate his way out of a wet paper bag, he should be able to associate composers and musical pieces, he should be able to bake a fine souffle, he should be able to win a spelling bee. if we'd subjected our current president to an academic decathlon, we wouldn't be listening to him stutter and him and haw right now when i should be watching ellen.
there's got to be something else i can be doing with my time. i'll be back...
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