Cloud 9 Just Deflated

   

chetanddot

Remember that happiness high I was on the other day when I was bragging about how happy I am right now? Yeah, well, it seems I've hit a little hiccup at the hands of a complete stranger while attending our neighborhood holiday party. In about 20 minutes or so (it's possible it only felt that long), he managed to crush any hope I had for a magical holiday season, and furthermore, a happy, secure and satisfying future. Thanks a lot, old man. I know you were probably trying to help, but I'm pretty sure you did more harm than good. In the future, keep your big mouth shut and your opinions to yourself (which is pretty much good advice for everyone).

p.s. Only 30 shopping days left until the greatest day of the year... MY BIRTHDAY (and Twin's too, of course)! Wondering what to get me? Well, don't you worry, I'll be putting out a wish list soon enough. I just have to get through this Christmas chaos first.

Life Lessons I Have Learned Since Turning 30

    

[chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp]

Alive II: The Carnivorous Cruise

   

Source

This morning on the Today Show, Matt Lauer interviewed a honeymooning couple who were aboard the Carnival Cruise ship that was stranded at sea for 4 days. Unfortunately, I found myself still drinking my cup of coffee when the interview came on and was thus witness to the tale this couple told of the ordeal they endured. In case you missed it, here's a snippet of the interview that really brought home the extent of the hardship the passengers experienced. Paraphrased, of course. My thoughts to follow.

Matt Lauer: What was it exactly that you ate in order to stay alive?
New Bride: CEREAL!!! There was nothing but cereal for breakfast! Just cereal. And we had salads and sandwiches for lunch and dinner! Just vegetables! There was no meat at all!

Yes, I do believe he's picking his teeth

First of all, seriously, Matt? Seriously? To stay alive? Was it really that dire aboard the ship that the passengers were at risk of dying? They had food brought in for them for crying out loud! And free booze! It's not like they were in the Andes eating their left wing's buttocks (Google it: Andes rugby. Most disturbing book you'll ever read.).

Second of all, new bride, I don't mean to judge, but it kind of looks like eating salads and sandwiches for four days might actually be in your best interest, honey. Looks to me like you could use to lose a few (feign offense if you want, dear readers,* but you know you were thinking it too).

But you know what? I wasn't there. Maybe it really was that horrific and awful. A couple of passengers did have this to say, after all, in an interview with CBS News,  "You started seeing some peanut butter, which everybody was excited about," said Katie Sokulski. Dad Stan Allen agreed: "We didn't even know how much we loved peanut butter!" 

Source

I mean, it's not like I've ever been through an ordeal such as this, right? Although, there was that one ice storm that hit Northern NY and Canada in 1998... eh, but who am I kidding? I mean, my family was stranded in our house, in the middle of the woods, without power, for a week, and we couldn't flush the toilets, and we didn't have running water (all in the dead of winter), but hey, at least we didn't have to endure what this one woman complained about, "We were bored, we were hungry, we couldn't lay out because it wasn't sunny," said Amy Watts. 

And you know what? I bet those rugby players in the Andes were at least able to lay out in the sun while they gnawed on their homo sapien jerky.

* Apparently I'm channeling Stephen King.

Is there anything else I can get for you?

How long does one continue job searching in their field before throwing in the towel and giving up? I've read numerous articles lately that have been discussing the fact that while many, many people remain unemployed, some employers are having a hard time filling open positions. This was explained by the theory that people are having a difficult time reconciling the significant difference between the job they once had and the jobs that are available. No one wants to go from working at a cushy office job to driving trucks all day.

I've been wrestling with this issue too. As my job searching continues to beat me down, I've begun to consider possible alternatives to teaching. Not long-term, mind you, just temporary so I can pay the bills. I feel as if I've gotten to the point where I might have to fall-back on my old stand-by, waiting tables. When I tell this to the people in my life, I get different reactions from them. (Image Source)

The G-Man, who waited tables a time or two in college, has a BA in psychology and was ushered into a completely unrelated field of work a month after graduating and is now on the cusp of earning six figures, thinks waiting tables is a viable option for me.

SMos, who waited tables for many years in NYC, just completed the same Masters program as me, and has been working as an art teacher for almost six years in a public school in Brooklyn, thinks waiting tables is one option, but agrees that it would suck, but also points out how great the pay could be, but then laments about how shitty it would be to have to wait tables again, and then suggests other options for me and frequently emails and texts me with job possibilities she stumbles across (I love her).

Thing Two, who I have no knowledge of any of his experience waiting tables, has a Bachelors degree and a Masters, has shelled out tens of thousands of dollars to become a lawyer, and is now pushing papers for some government agency in DC, thinks that my talk of being a waitress reflects a defeatist's attitude.

Twin, who waited tables for a while in The Middle of Nowhere, Texas (while pregnant, mind you), has a Bachelors degree and a Masters in teaching, and is now working as a stay-at-home mom to her two beautiful sons because she can't find a job teaching English, thinks... well, now that I think about it, I don't recall what her thoughts on the subject were.

As you can imagine, I'm torn. I don't want to settle for a job, and I understand that many big wigs in the know cite this exact attitude as the reason so many people remain unemployed. I have explored options outside of teaching that don't include waiting tables, but have thus far come up with a big fat goose egg. I know that, in theory, I can continue job searching while waiting tables, but if you've ever waited tables full-time before, you know that the level of exhaustion I would experience, both mental and physical, would drain me of all my energy and leave very little left for job hunting. (Image Source)

While bouncing back and forth with this, I've compiled two lists outlining the pros and cons of me returning to waiting tables.

Why I Wouldn't Mind Waiting Tables Again

1. The pay can be good.
2. It's immediate money.
3. I like interacting with people.
4. It was one of my dream jobs when I was seven.
5. I like being super busy.
6. It's good for the thighs. And the butt.
7. It would get me out of the house.
8. I'm good at it.

Why I Would Hate Waiting Tables Again

1. It's exhausting.
2. People can be rude and demanding.
3. You're often not treated like a real person.
4. Customers judge you.
5. The hours suck. And you have to work evenings and weekends. Or else they fire you.
6. I hate not having a set schedule.
7. I have a Masters degree.
8. I'm concerned I wouldn't even get hired, and I'm not sure I can stand any more rejection.
9. I have severe pain in my left foot that I've been ignoring for about two or three years now ever since I fell down the stairs that one time but refused to go to the hospital because I didn't have health insurance.
10. I'm klutzy.
11. I don't like being bossed around.
12. I'd have to wear Happy Face all the time.
13. I'd smell like food all the time.
14. The smell of food would start making me gag.
15. My face would break out from all the grease.

Of course, I could always fall back on my other fall-back, substituting. The pay wouldn't be immediate and I wouldn't be guaranteed work, but at least it would always be M-F daytime work. And it would allow me to get my foot in the door of area schools. And even though subbing sucks on a level so unimaginable those of you who have never done it couldn't even begin to imagine, it would keep my teaching skills all shiny and pretty. 

Of course, then there's the bills this month. *Sigh* Anyone want to pay my car payment for me?

(Image Source)

Twelve hours and two torrential downpours later...

... and I'm back in VA. I think it was around hour 8 or 9 that my back started protesting loudly and angrily. But I made it, the car made it, and I have tons of ideas for future posts. Seriously, what else do you do on such a long road trip by yourself. Well, besides the obvious- crank the tunes, dance in your seat and sing as loud as you can. Yes, I'm that person. Laugh all you want but I have fun on my solo road trips (at least for the first 5 hours), plus, it helps to combat fatigue and increases blood flow. Who's laughing now?

Yesterday I posted a series of questions for you to all ponder while I was suffering the horrors of driving. But what am I saying? You were all there, so you know, right? At any rate, I promised to post my answers today (you know, because I'm tired and don't have the brain power right now to write about anything more clever).

Well, here goes... 

* If you have the ability to easily let someone off the hook for something they're sweating over, do you? Or do you think, "Huh, I could tell so-and-so to not worry about it, maybe some other time, however, I'm really curious as to what excuse so-and-so will come up with this time. And furthermore, if this is always so-and-so's idea, and so-and-so always cancels, shouldn't so-and-so be made to sweat over the lame excuses?"

Well, if you're anything like me (and you're probably not, lucky you) you tend to jump to conclusions and assume that so-and-so is hemming and hawing over what excuse to use this time when, in fact, they're just super busy and haven't replied to your text because they were under the impression that you were going to call them (which, after it has been pointed out to you, you vaguely remember agreeing to). So, under this incorrect assumption, you bow out of the plans, citing various lame-o excuses just to save yourself the agony of going through that again, and, in all honesty, you weren't entirely sure it would be in your best interest anyway. And then so-and-so immediately responds to you and expresses their extreme disappointment that you're bailing and tries to get you to change your mind, but at this point, for various reasons, it's too late and then you end up spending the rest of the night (and subsequently, the next day as well) kicking yourself for being such an idiot. {sigh}

* Pennsylvania or New Jersey? PA or NJ? The long route or the aggravating route? PA? NJ?

Pennsylvania. And it actually had nothing to do with trying to avoid NJ. So, yeah.

* Which is more important in life, security or happiness? (I may or may not have recently watched The Wedding Singer)

God, where do I even start on this one? The responsible (and unemployed) adult in me says security (don't judge me, please), however, the romantic adventurer in me says happiness. In a perfect world, we could have both. I'm beginning to believe less and less that we live in a perfect world (I know. Shocking, right?). I've always believed, that above everything else, the most important thing in life is to be happy and live for yourself. Unfortunately, my bank account disagrees with me.

* What's the best music for a summer road trip?

She & Him. TV on the Radio. Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs. The Black Keys. The White Stripes. The Dead Weather. Adele. The Antlers. The XX. The Killers. According to my iPod at least. If the funds were available, there definitely would have been some last minute additions to the list (read: David Byrne, Noah and the Whale and The Kinks). Unfortunately, I did a piss poor job of prioritizing my music purchases before my gift card ran out.

* Do you believe in soul mates? Explain your answer. And furthermore, is it best to have known your soul mate and lost him/her or to have never known him/her at all? (I may or may not have recently watched 500 Days of Summer)

Okay. I've never been a believer in soul mates. Of course, up until a month or so ago I was also in extreme denial of the romantic that lives inside me. I always felt that the idea of soul mates was all a bit hokey. It was my belief that there were no such things, just people that you can get along with. And once you stopped getting along with someone, you just moved on to the next person you got along with (totally un-romantic, I know, but remember that whole denial thing?). Of course, that's probably the child-of-divorce speaking, but whatever. That being said, I may or may not believe in soul mates now. And we're leaving it at that. Oh, and as for the second part of the question, I'm leaning towards having never known, despite what the rest of you think.

There.  Now excuse me while I go and plan out those super kick-ass posts I came up with on my journeys. Or not. In case you haven't noticed, I'm the kind of person who frequently starts things and then never finishes. Or never gets around to starting in the first place. True story. In fact, I have 4 drafts just chilling out, waiting to be finished. Or started.

And of course, since I really hate posting without pics, here's a few from my adventures in Northern NY.

Oh, and one more thing... 

Remember how you I used to regale you with tales of my adventures that were just so shameful I couldn't actually tell you about them? Man it's been awhile since I've had on of those weekends, huh? It may interest you to know that I'll be attending a party in DC this weekend. I am assured that drinking games will be played (wanna come? Seriously? Want to?), which means, I may have fantastic and humiliating stories to tell you on Monday that I will be too ashamed of to tell you about. Yay[ex.pt.]

[Insert creative title here]

                             
I’m completely uninspired. All my inspiration has been lost. Where did it go? In New York I was brimming over with ideas. I was jotting down things to write about left and right. I could jump in the shower and immediately compose a hilarious story about my fashion faux pas of the 90s. At 1:00 am I could begin writing a wonderful homage to John Cusack. While eating breakfast and watching Supernatural, I was able to outline the perfect post comparing Twitter to the cool kids’ table in the school cafeteria. Now that I’m in Virginia… nothing. Nada. Nilch. Zippo. My creativity has dried up.

What gives? Is it because my primo creative time is no longer alone time? Is it because there are now expectations that I be in bed, ready to sleep, at 10:00 pm? Is it because I’m being cruelly dragged from the comforts of slumber at 6:00 am? Is it because everything of mine that is me is packed away in boxes, deep in the confines of storage while I’m living in someone else’s space, among their things?

Yes, yes, yes and… yes.

I’ve been in this situation before. Cohabiting always makes me feel less like me. I never feel more like me than when I’m by myself. Or when I’m around others like me. But now, well, I’m not by myself, and I’m not around others like me. Therefore, if I’m not me right now, than who I am?

I’m a shell of the real me, struggling to muster the energy to be me while dreading the idea of losing more of me. I need to be surrounded by creative people, in creative places, and amongst creatively inspiring things. My creativity is fizzling. Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff............

_______________________________________________________

In the meantime, while I attempt to recharge, or decide to throw in the towel, Miss Nikki honored me with an award, and since I accepted the challenge that comes along with it, I guess now is as good of a time as any to complete it.

(Thanks, Miss Nikki. Rule #1? Check!)

So apparently there are rules that come along with this thing and what not. *Sigh* I'm so not into rules right now, but for the sake of keeping the bloggity blog world happy, I'll post them anyways. Lucky for us, there are only three:

1. Thank the blogger who awarded it to you (done)
2. Sum up your blogging philosophy, motivation, and experience using five words (say what now?)
3. Pass it on to 10 other blogs which you feel have real substance (10? we'll see about that. I don't even have the energy to read 10 blogs anymore *sigh*)

Alright, well, here goes nuttin'...

Boredom (as in, I created it because of, I write it because of, and you read it because of)
Alcohol (as in, the fuel that keeps me going, also, my best stories are the result of, but unfortunately they're also the most humiliating and shameful so I don't really write about them, and you don't really get to read about them)
Comments (as in, I'm a whore for them and they keep me going)
Humor (as in, I pretend to have a sense of one when I write so long as you all continue pretending to understand it when you read)
Pickles (as in, I love 'em, and so should you)

Okay, now for the hard part. I have to pass this shit on.

Um... so... don't judge me on this or anything, but I decided to mix things up a bit. It seems like all the same bloggers out there keep getting all the awards, and rightfully so, 'cause they're good, but I've decided to share with you 10 (random) blogs that I enjoy reading that you probably aren't reading.* And yes, these were selected randomly** from my blogroll using everyone's favorite tool, the random number generator over at random.org.

1. [ THE DRIFTER and the GYPSY ] 
2. No Teacher Left Behind
3. Skunkboy Creatures 
4. Etiquette Bitch
5. A Cup Full of Cake
6. Wait in the Van
7. DC Princess 
8. *uncorked 
9. Miss Mommy
10. a single girl in the city...

And there you have it. Go check out these bloggers. Let 'em know who sent you (and while you're there can you give them the good news about this blogger award thing? I might not get around to it today. Thanks). I can't guarantee you're gonna like them, nor can a I guarantee that they're frequent posters and what not, but they're on my blogroll so they must have something going on or else I wouldn't have chosen to follow them.

Congrats winners, and thanks again, Miss Nikki. Sorry if I didn't present this with as much enthusiasm as it warranted, but in case you missed it above, I'm creatively and inspirational-ly dead inside.

Now please excuse me while I go drown my sorrows. 

* I realize there's an official day for this sort of thing, but I prefer doing things my way. Deal with it.

** But not necessarily accurate. I can't be held responsible for my counting skills.

TGI... FU

         
For your consideration, the highlights, and, more likely, the lowlights of my week...

• I came back from my sister's to an empty house. Yay! Well, not exactly empty. Wacko Art Girl hasn't moved out yet and Banker Girl lives here permanently and Landlord Dude technically still lives here, but basically lives at his girlfriend's place (for those of you who don't know, I currently live in a house that houses college students. About 6-7 people live here). I love it when the house is nearly empty. It means I can drink my beer in peace, leave my dirty dishes on the counter overnight and shower whenever I get around to it.

• I discovered that nuking peanut butter in the microwave for 30 seconds and topping it with frozen vanilla yogurt is the best treat ever. It's super-d-duper better when using crunchy peanut butter.

• I applied for a job as an assistant for a woman who claimed, "I will get back to you in a flash!" I don't really expect to get the job, but I liked the idea that she would immediately let me know that I wasn't right for the job. Apparently her definition of "in a flash" and mine are different because I haven't heard back from her yet. I can't stand it when I apply for a job and then I'm left hanging in limbo. Remember that job interview I went on ages ago? Yeah, well the Principal told me he would be letting all the candidates know one way or the other within a day. Yeah, well I'm still waiting for that phone call. Or rejection letter. Or at least a rejection email. (I know, I know. I could have called them, but I'm stubborn, dammit, and when someone says they're going to do something, I expect them to do it.)

• I discovered that my thighs have recently decided that they must give each other an encouraging pat every time they cross each other mid-stride. Not cool, thighs, not cool.

• Some random dude hit on me while sitting at a traffic light, which made me feel really good, especially since I hadn't showered that day and I had a seriously painful zit working it's way to the surface of my face. Then I looked down and realized I was having a total Paris Hilton/Fire Crotch moment as a result of my insistence on driving with my left leg propped up on the lower part of my car door, and my hatred for shorts, which was why I was wearing the same jean skirt for three days in a row. Which then reminded me of the thigh-rubbing thing, which totally bummed me out again.

• I impulsively went to the grocery store to buy fruity Twizzlers after visiting the Etsy store of new follower, charasjewelcandy. Thighs be damned! On a side note, did you know that a serving of fruity Twizzlers is 3 Twizzlers? Yeah, apparently it is, which I think is wrong. I mean, there are 6 colors! How do you decide which three colors to eat? Moving on... I also picked up toilet paper (cause we all now my track record with that), microwave popcorn (because my brain could use the food) and...

•  Meet (name to be determined). This little guy is going to save my life. I decided that I need some sort of purpose or else I'm going to lose this battle I'm currently fighting. My new purpose in life is to keep this guy alive. Now, those of you in-the-know know that my track record with plants is not good. In fact, I've killed every plant I've ever owned (except for the ones that my family have removed from my custody). You might be thinking that I'm just setting myself up for EPIC FAILURE, and you're probably right, but like I said before, I'm stubborn. And I need a project. Plus, I'm pretty sure this guy will be easy to care for.

• A new housemate moved in. He's interning in NY for the summer and hails all the way from Temple, TX. And that's about all I know about him. Oh, and his sisters recently got him hooked on LOST so he's been holed up in his room for marathon LOST watching. Oh, and he makes a full pot of coffee every morning before he goes to work, which is awesome, because I love coffee, but I love coffee I don't have to make even more.

• I'm currently suffering from insomnia. Which sucks and means that I'm going to bed around 4am and waking up at 8am but not getting out of bed until 10am. It also means that when the automated sub system calls with an assignment at 5am, my tired and fried-out brain automatically ignores the call. I'm also totally regretting scheduling an eye appointment for 10am. Life hates me.

• Landlord Dude informed me the other night that he has already rented my room out for the summer. So... looks like it's official. I'll be homeless at the end of the month. 

• Banker Girl invited me to go with her to Mountain Jam this weekend. She volunteers and gets all sorts of freebies and what not. Unfortunately, I already have lame-o plans for Saturday, so I had to decline the invite. Bummer, Dude.

• Remember my toe injury? (Don't worry, Erin, no toe pics in this post.) Well, I totally lost the fight to keep the skin flap. Just in case you were wondering.

• You ever see those bloggers who have those really neat signatures at the end of their posts? Yeah, well, I tried to make my own using my laptop. This is the result:
Nice, right? Just call me Anlnme. Yup. That's me! Anlnme (pronounced anal-n-me, in case you were wondering). I think I just found my new name. Yay!

Anywhoops... hope you all have a fabulously wonderful weekend. I'll be drinking wine. Quite possibly with new glasses (as in, eyeglasses). See you on Monday! (or sooner if I get bored)

"Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket

       

Save it for a rainy day."*

    

I had the best intentions of posting something brilliant tonight (really, I did. I came up with three great ideas for posts while in the shower this morning, AND I wrote them down after wards. Progress!). 

HOWEVER, I had other shit to do tonight...

I spent four hours this afternoon working on a print version of my portfolio for tomorrow's job interview. When I took my jump drive back to the office to print out a few colored pages, I discovered that we had no ink left for our printer. Our new printer. Our new printer that we were given four ink cartridges for. I knew Co-Worker liked to use the printer for personal stuff, but I didn't realize how bad she was with it. Four ink cartridges should have lasted us a year doing the work that we do (meaning, we rarely have to print anything out), but Co-Worker had to go and waste it all on her homework and job applications and god-knows what else. Which means, I was unable to print my portfolio (I know what you're thinking... HYPOCRITE, but I never use that printer for non-work related things, so I figured 5 or 6 pages would be fine, so... BACK OFF!).

Anywho... I had to return to my place (after a quick trip to the store) and proceed to create a digital portfolio that I can burn onto a CD. It's going to suck not having visuals to show tomorrow, but at least I can leave the interview committee a fabulous PowerPoint presentation to view at their leisure (in other words, I'm probably wasting all my time because most likely they won't take the time to view it).

So, here I am, 10 HOURS after starting my portfolio and I'm about 1/3 of the way through. You can expect my hilarious post tomorrow.

* That would be a reference to tonight's episode of LOST, duh, NOT a Clay Aiken reference. I HATE Clay Aiken. (But I couldn't resist using this pic. Blechk. Source).

Whatev'

  

So I recently discovered that I have no friends. As in, I discovered this evening that I have no one in the world to hang out with. Despite the fact that I have lived in this town since last July, I have no one around that I can call up and say, "Hey! Let's go grab a beer!" I guess this is what happens when you spend all of your free time holed up in your room with just your computer and thesis for companionship. 

               

While I wallow in some pretty deep self-pity, you're going to have to suffer through a pointless survey, about me, which I stole from a lust for words, who stole it from rbandj You might be wondering why I'm forcing you to sit through this. Well, it's better than sitting through the garbage that I would write with my Deep Depression cap on, so be thankful. And enjoy. Maybe you can steal it too.

1. The strangest thing I've ever eaten was eel. I'm sure I've eaten a lot of strange things, but that's the one that I can clearly remember. I also remember liking it. I've really taken to the whole sushi thing.
  
2. My best friends are my sister and SMos. My sister lives about 5-6 hours away. SMos live in Brooklyn, otherwise I'd totally call SMos up 'cause she'd drop everything and go out for a beer with me. Remember last time we got together? Good times. (I wouldn't call my sister up, because she doesn't drink, but I know she would love to hang with me and talk shit about people and watch pointless TV. She's good like that.)
  
3. If I could live in a different era it would be the 60s. No! The 70s. No, wait! The 40s. Crap, I don't know. I like aspects of all of them when it comes to fashion and style. If we're talking about society and equality, give me the 70s. (Did you know gas cost ¢11/gallon in 1940? And in 1970 it cost ¢39/gallon? In 30 years the cost only went up ¢28! So really, shouldn't gas only be, like, ¢70/gallon now or something? Think about it. Source)
  
4. If you only knew one thing about me it should be that I'm not what you would expect. Really. Over the years numerous people have been shocked and/or surprised by me and my me-ness (it's a word. I swear. Despite what Firefox thinks. Okay, I just made it up, but NOW it IS a word. 'Cause I just made it up. See?). People are always shocked by my humor, my intelligence, my mischievousness, me cleverness, my dirtiness, etc. Thankfully, this has never been a problem for me, or I guess for others either. Good. 'Cause I like me.
  
5. My favorite book of all time is Bag of Bones by Stephen King. I think. Yeah, I'm pretty sure of that. Right? Yeah. 
  
6. The one beauty product I can not live without is Oil of Olay. Because my face gets super dry. And I can't afford a lot of fancy, schmancy beauty products. Sometimes I splurge on Aveeno products, but it's been awhile since I've done that. And I don't wear makeup. Like, rarely ever. Sometimes I'll do mascara, but that's it. And sometimes lip gloss.
  
7. Blogging is a great way for me to not only keep track of my thoughts but to also keep track of my identity, something that I tend to loose easily. I'm not kidding. Sometimes I just totally forget who I am. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and think, "Oh my god! I'm Jennifer Aniston!" And then I try to do those cool beachy hair waves that she has, and then I remember that I'm sooo not Jennifer Aniston. Occasionally, I go out at night, thinking I'm a rock star, and then I party like a rock star, and then, the next morning, I realize, "I am sooo not a rock star." There was this awful, horrible period in time when I thought I was a housewife. After about three months, I realized, "I am sooo not a housewife." And then I ran away and joined the circus.
  
8. If I could star in a movie with one actor/actress, it would be Christian Slater. Seriously. I ♥ him.
  
9. One of the best feelings in the world is being touched by someone you like.
  
10. My current obsession is watching TNT all morning. Two hours of Supernatural followed by two hours of Las Vegas. Good stuff.
  
11. What's for dinner tonight? Um... I had some cheese and crackers and pepperoni and a strawberry and a piece of pineapple and a prosciutto and cheese stuffed jalapeno pepper and some macaroni salad.
  
12. The last thing I bought was a coffee.
  
13. I am currently listening to two of my housemates gossiping in the hallway. Good stuff.
  
14. If I could have a home, totally paid for, totally furnished, anywhere in the world, it would be in Italy. Why? Why not?
  
15. The one thing I would change about myself is my fear of settling and committing.
  
16. If you could go anywhere in the world in the next hour, where would you go?  Canton. Or Brooklyn. I could use a friend right now.
  
17. The languages I would love to learn are Spanish and sign. And maybe Italian. For when I live there, of course.
  
18. My favorite quote (right now) is “It is better to be hated for who you are, than to be loved for someone you are not.”
  
19. I am most afraid of losing my freedom.
  
20. My favorite color is blue
  
21. My dream job is baker or cake decorator. Not that glamorous, but so much fun!
  
22. The one thing that brings a smile to your face instantaneously is being touched by someone I like.
  
23. The word I use a lot is fuck. It has so many uses.
  
24. When I'm feeling blue I will curl up with a drink and watch bad, cheesy movies
  
25. What inspires me is other people. As in people I admire. As in people I respect. I miss those people.
  
26. My favorite season is spring!!!
  
27. My favorite dessert has to be blackberry pie.
  
28. How many tabs are open on your browser right now? 6
  
29. What was the first thing that crossed your mind this morning when you looked in the mirror? "If I wear my hair like this, I can totally get away with not showering today."
  
30. The best piece of advice I was ever given was "The only thing worse than 8 years is 8 years and 1 day."
  
31. If I had a million dollars to give to one charity, I would give it to The Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research. For my grandfather. I miss him.
  
32. If at first you don't succeed lower your expectations. 

Damn! That was kind of painful and took WAY longer than I expected. You can probably tell that I started losing interest at the end there, huh? Hope it's easier to read. Have a great weekend. I think I'm going to try and scrounge up some friends somewhere.

Thesis writing is bad for your health (and undoubtedly, your sanity)

 

I'm taking a break from thesis writing to tell you about how writing a thesis could, quite possibly, kill you. Or at least destroy your health and drive you insane. 

For the record, not that anyone cares, I am now 59 pages into what I expect to be a 120 paged thesis. I have three and half chapters left to write and one chapter still in need of some polishing. (If you're keeping score, I have two chapters completed and half a chapter in second draft stage, for a grand total of seven chapters. I'm done boring you now.) 

I will graduate in May, I will graduate in May, I will graduate in all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy*.

Back to my point, thesis writing is bad for your health. 

For one, you will be chained to your work space of choice for most of the day. You will, most likely, be seated for a majority of the time, thus resulting in some horrible tushy expansion. If your work space of choice happens to be your bed (mine is) you will spend all of your time there. Not only will you be sleeping and typing in your bed/work space, you will also be eating there. 

Eating while thesis writing is sloppy work, what with the whole typing with one hand while trying to shove food in your mouth thing. You will soon tire of this task and the resulting mess and stop eating altogether. Unfortunately, since you long ago stopped cleaning your room and laundering your clothes you have a work space situation that now looks like this:

and like this:

You will soon discover ants in your bed. Most likely attracted there by the bagel crumbs and salsa spills from two weeks prior. (you stopped eating, remember? That filth has been there for awhile.) It will then occur to you that you should do some laundry. 

At this point you will be faced with a dilemma; do you A) spend the entire day washing the eight loads of laundry piled up on the floor** in the small washer in your basement, or do you B) haul your laundry to the laundromat and get it all done in a couple of hours? This is a no-brainer. B it is, however you're now faced with another dilemma. 

Going to the laundromat requires that you go out in public. Do you A) take an hour to shower and put together some semblance of an outfit, or do you B) say fuck it, go dirty but brush your teeth and throw on the first articles of clothing that look (and smell) fairly clean? No-brainer again. B it is, shit, it's not like you can even remember the last time you showered at this point, so what's one more day? (seriously, I've been wearing my hair in braids for the past three days and I've had a hat on for one, maybe two. Not a good sign). 

 Aren't I purdy? In case you're wondering, that paper clip is there for safe keeping. I lose them (and the one pen I have in my room) all the time. I may or may not have ripped my room apart looking for a lost paper clip. And my pen. (maybe I should raid my car)

So, you pack up the laundry and hit the road. Of course, you're going to need quarters. Lots of quarters. You take a quick trip to the grocery store to get coffee, water, a roast beef sandwich, a Glamour magazine and $20. (my bank doesn't have a branch or an ATM in my town. Back off.) Despite the fact that there is a customer service desk AND a bank branch in the grocery store, you head off to another bank to get your $20 exchanged for quarters. (past experience has taught you that the snippy teen at customer service doesn't like to part with quarter rolls and the bitch at the bank won't exchange your money unless you have an account there.)

You arrive at the laundromat, load up the entire wall of super-speedy, heavy-duty washers with all the clothes, towels and bedding you own. (hey, you're desperate and you've got shit to do. You can't be waiting around for slow, shitty washers all day. Plus, it's a Tuesday morning and you're the only one there.) The laundering process is pretty uneventful, aside from the nasty-ass coffee you drank, the questionable roast beef sandwich you scarfed down and the nasty green spider you grabbed a hold of while unloading your wash. 

On your way back home you notice a stench in your car that you earlier mistook for the smell of scuzzy, dirty clothes. This is when you realize the travel mugs of coffee you left in the car three weeks ago are still chilling in the cup holders. You arrive home (gagging and cursing the asshole who hit a skunk in the road in front of your house and the bus driver who just ran over the mutilated carcass for the millionth time), grab the two travel mugs, your bag of thesis work and your duffel bag of laundry (you'll go back for the basket and the water later) and head inside. 

In the process of unlocking the back door, you manage to drop one of the precariously balanced coffee mugs. You watch in horrifying slow motion as the mug tumbles out of your hand, smashes into the door, bursts open, and spills coffee chunks all over the entryway, and worse yet, your bag of thesis work.

You spend the next fifteen minutes cleaning up curdled coffee, trying desperately not to barf. Having cleaned up the mess, brought in the rest of the laundry, popped open a beer (hey, it's 5:00 in the UK), put away the laundry, recovered from having your closet shelf come crashing down on top of your head, you finally settle back into your work space. You get set for another afternoon/evening of thesis work, all the while scratching at the ingrown hairs that have sprouted (or not, I guess) on your legs, which haven't been shaved in about two weeks. Oh, and now your two-years worth of blood, sweat and tears smells like a dead baby. (I'm assuming dead babies would have a sickly-sweet, nauseating rotten milk smell to them)

See? Thesis writing is bad for your health. I should get hazard pay for this or something. Okay, time to pop a vitamin (it's all about sustenance, people!) and get back to work. Sleep, after all, is a luxury while thesis writing. Only five more weeks, folks. Five... more... weeks... When you look for me at graduation, I'll be the zombie/mummified skeleton in the ant-infested gown, dragging herself up by her broken and crippled hands (typing is a bitch!) to get her diploma. 

Be proud. Me? I'm seriously disgusted by myself, but I know it's only temporary (right? RIGHT!?) and all will be well again soon.

*  For the record, I try to refrain from wielding my axe while on my crazy, drunken, reclusive genius tirades. Just looking out for the housemates.

** This photo was taken a week or so ago, so you can't really get a good idea to what extent the clothes pile grew. I was half expecting Marjory the Trash Heap to raise her snooty head out of it. 

There should be an instructional manual for this.

Seriously.

Let's be honest here, not all of us were raised with the most attentive or informative mothers (for an extremely humbling yet humorous example, read this post from one of my favorite blogs, Hipstercrite). Not all of us were taught the ins and outs of eyebrow tweezing, the basics of makeup application or (nor?) the how-tos of assembling an entire outfit. And let's not forget the hot topics of dating, girlfriends and, well, basic survival. The only dating advice I can ever remember my mom dishing out was "Good girls don't call boys," and this was less of an advisement and more of an accusation (yeah, I'm pretty sure my mom was insinuating that I was a whore. At 14, but I digress.).

So, my point is, there are (very frequently) moments in my life when I want to pull the hair out of my head and yell SHOULDN'T SOMEONE HAVE TOLD ME ABOUT/HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS?!? Therefore, for us poor unfortunate souls who grew up without a proper education on how to be a girl, I suggest that someone create an instructional manual for this shit (and I'm not referring to the Cosmo kind, because I'm pretty sure there's more to being a girl than How to Give Your Man a Mind-Blowing Blow or How to Dress Like a Hooker at Work and Not Get Called a Whore*).

For fun, here are some things I would like to see covered in said manual:

1. How to survive puberty- as in the logistics of it. This shouldn't be left up to the health teacher, who is just going to show us a picture of a cow's head and throw all sorts of medical jargon at us. And please, please, please this shouldn't be left up to our moms, who are gonna get all theatrical and "You're now a woman!" on us and then throw a book at us that will miraculously explain it all. It won't. Just give us the real world, this-is-how-you-deal, facts.
2. How to be a friend with a guy without him wanting to take it to the next level- I'm convinced this type of relationship can exist, and I'm still determined to prove it. This should also cover how to have a one-night stand that won't result in him hounding you for dinner and a movie, and how to get him to NOT call you.
3. How to say no without feeling like a bitch- this has so many applications I don't even know where to begin. Being incapable of saying no without carrying around a burden of guilt the size of Texas has resulted in many life situations I have NOT wanted to be in.
4. How to be a lady while wearing a skirt- I fail miserably at this. I have no qualms against sitting criss-cross applesauce (formerly known as Indian Style) in a skirt. I have no problem sitting on the floor or the ground or in the dirt. I wear flip flops in skirts. I go barefoot. I put my feet up on my chair/table when wearing a skirt. I have flashed many unsuspecting strangers numerous times when the wind picks up. 
5. How to wear our hair/clothes/make-up in a flattering manner- I know we all have to go through a trial-and-error stage, but I think with the assistance of an instructional manual I would have discovered my personal style before the age of 25.
6. How to hurt someone's feelings with grace and ease- I suck at this. 
7. How to have a successful argument without caving at a crucial moment- I suck at this too.
8. How to survive other women- Women are mean. Women are cruel. Women are vindictive. Where are the instructions on how to deal when you find yourself at a barbecue, surrounded by married women who are all five years younger than you and all have children or are pregnant and none of them work and they make YOU feel guilty for being almost 30, unmarried, sans kids and more focused on your education and career then all those other things. Not that I've ever been in that situation, I'm just saying, for example.
9. How to be entirely comfortable and accepting with the longing, the desire and the decision to be a free and independent woman- Cuz the world doesn't make this easy on a woman. I like living on my own. I like paying for my own meal. I like driving my own car (a standard, by the way). I like not having to answer to anyone or check in with someone at all times. So why do I still feel guilty about this?
10. How to talk about cars- it seems men are born with this ability. That's unfair. I would feel much more confident heading to the garage if I knew what a catalytic converter did or if I knew what a tie-rod was.
11. How to purchase a bag of Oreos and NOT consume the entire package in two days- same goes for chocolate. and ice cream. and candy. Damn you, PMS!
12. How to comfortably do things on your own- like eating out or going to a movie or grabbing a drink at a bar. I have to admit, I have successfully eaten out on my own (granted, it was always at a diner, but it counts) however, I have yet to go to a bar on my own, but I see men do it all the time. And I have yet to master the ability to walk into a movie theater on my own, purchase a ticket and see that movie that I've been dying to see.
13. How to drink with the boys- alright, in all honesty, I don't need instructions on this. I've been known to drink quite a few boys under the table before, but I do know quite a few girls who could benefit from putting down the girly umbrella drink and grab a beer, for god's sake!
14. How to not make an ass of yourself in front of a crush- (I really couldn't end on 13, so I threw this one in, but it's still true). Fergie sang about this. We all do it. How do we stop trippin', stumblin' and acting all clumsy and start acting like the sophisticated, put-together woman that we are in front of the men of our dreams?

Well, it's a start. What would you like to see in the instructional manual for being a girl?

 

    
* I don't think these are actual articles from Cosmo. I don't read it, but from what I've seen in the aisles of the supermarket, they very well could be.

I've been zombified.

  

They tell me there's a light at the end of the tunnel...

...but I can't see it yet. Please bear with me as I navigate my way through the hell of data analysis. I'm functioning on two and a half hours of sleep right now, although I suppose calling it functioning is being quite generous. I'm barely surviving. In fact, I feel a bit like this individual:

 (source)

Please send chocolate. Or whiskey. Or both.

That is all.