Trust me, the tornado is not a metaphor. I mean a real, rip the fuck out of your town, tornado. Apparently one touched down in Harvard, about 30 minutes from my apartment. FUCK DUDE. And there were funnel cloud sightings all over the place. HOLY SHIT.
But I was tucked away safely in Walmart. And by tucked away I mean standing at my register going "Did you hear we're getting tornados?!" And they'd grab their shit and go, "holy fuck! I need to go home now! Save the Hoho's kids! Grab the link card! Back to the ghetto we go!" or something like that.
No one I know was hurt. Or died. Or was effected, minus a few mini heart attacks I'm sure. But we're cool. Apartment still standing. It's sunny like God is all "Sorry Ya'll, but We know how much you hate that redneck town, harvard. After two tornados bitches STILL standing." It's ok God, we forgive you.
Speaking of walmart, I hate my job. Like before I hated it, but whatever it was a job. Now Its like "WHY MUST I WORK!?!" I got yelled at for doing my job yesterday, and emptying my hanger bin. Note to self: Don't do that shit again. NO CLEANING APPARENTLY.
So whatever. I'm down with that.
I get yelled at a lot. But whatever, it's walmart. And only like 120 something days til I can quit that shit and say "LATER SUKKA!" which would rock.
And for the lack of car- My mom is driving me to and from work now. Which is dandy, quality time she's a saint for doing it etc etc.
BUT FUCK I MISS MY CAR. I miss blasting my music, singing at the top of my lungs, chain smoking and flipping off old people. But no, Until Monday I have no car, which means until Monday I'm really sad.
My car is my freeeeeeeeeedom. My car is my transportation. My car is my baby :( And my baby is sick. And missing an engine. And sick. And going to cost a few grand to fix. MY BABY IS BROKED.
Fuck. It's like 10:30 Am. This is what I'm like when I get sleep. Sorry guys. I'm a bit...er..Awake for once. :/
So let's recap. My car is broken,but not because of the tornado that hit Harvard. We're all hating walmart and secretly wish the tornado or broken car, had hit that instead.
Did I cover it all? I believe so.
7/29/2009
I get by with a little help from my friends...
Anyone who knows me knows how stubborn I am when it comes to asking for help. I will willingly offer it and bend over backwards for you, but when it comes to myself- no thank you.
This wedding is going to be the perfect example. It's going to kill me, I believe.
I want it to be perfect, like most girls want, but know I'm going to have to sacrifice a few things which I can live with. But when someone offers me help I'm backing away, "no, no I have this. It's cool. Don't worry!" And yet on the inside I'm going "HOLY FUCK."
Invitations, Save the dates and response cards have been approved and paid for. Will be here in a week. Then to ship them to John. Then to pack some boxes and ship those to John. Not to mention hiring a florist, DJ and getting a welcome package done for out of town guests. Coordinating flight arrivals for the Holiday Inn bus to pick up the guests, and making sure they can have the bus for sight seeing in the city or what not.
I need to look into a discount for car rentals for the party, and get a limo for the trip from my mom's house to the hotel. I need go through everything I own and decide what is worth keeping, what is worth shipping and what I honestly don't need anymore.
During all of this, I have to get digital pictures printed on photo paper, get a wedding cake, organize my life in a way that when it comes to move I can say "See ya later, suckers!" And be gone. I need to sell my car, but can't focus on that until I know it's fixed and working. Need to meet with lawyers, find an officiant and ship Sarah's dress to the UK. Have to get tux sizes, taste food, taste cake and figure out my favors.
Not to mention they emailed over the contract papers and my computer lacks Microsoft word, which means it wont open the contract. So I have to go to my mom's when I have a car, and print it out, read it, write a 500 dollar check and drop it off. But for now, it's there but I can't read it. Or agree to it. Or make changes. Or anything. Fuck.
And I assure you that I will try to do this all myself. And I will probably succeed. But right now, when it's all looming over my head, because I'm insane, I'm stressed. Add PSM to the mix and the fact that there is a child screaming in this apartment 20 hours out of the day and Vegas to elope is looking like a great idea.
So long story short, I need to get my shit together or this wedding is going to kill me. It'll be kick ass, but I'll be dead the day after.
This wedding is going to be the perfect example. It's going to kill me, I believe.
I want it to be perfect, like most girls want, but know I'm going to have to sacrifice a few things which I can live with. But when someone offers me help I'm backing away, "no, no I have this. It's cool. Don't worry!" And yet on the inside I'm going "HOLY FUCK."
Invitations, Save the dates and response cards have been approved and paid for. Will be here in a week. Then to ship them to John. Then to pack some boxes and ship those to John. Not to mention hiring a florist, DJ and getting a welcome package done for out of town guests. Coordinating flight arrivals for the Holiday Inn bus to pick up the guests, and making sure they can have the bus for sight seeing in the city or what not.
I need to look into a discount for car rentals for the party, and get a limo for the trip from my mom's house to the hotel. I need go through everything I own and decide what is worth keeping, what is worth shipping and what I honestly don't need anymore.
During all of this, I have to get digital pictures printed on photo paper, get a wedding cake, organize my life in a way that when it comes to move I can say "See ya later, suckers!" And be gone. I need to sell my car, but can't focus on that until I know it's fixed and working. Need to meet with lawyers, find an officiant and ship Sarah's dress to the UK. Have to get tux sizes, taste food, taste cake and figure out my favors.
Not to mention they emailed over the contract papers and my computer lacks Microsoft word, which means it wont open the contract. So I have to go to my mom's when I have a car, and print it out, read it, write a 500 dollar check and drop it off. But for now, it's there but I can't read it. Or agree to it. Or make changes. Or anything. Fuck.
And I assure you that I will try to do this all myself. And I will probably succeed. But right now, when it's all looming over my head, because I'm insane, I'm stressed. Add PSM to the mix and the fact that there is a child screaming in this apartment 20 hours out of the day and Vegas to elope is looking like a great idea.
So long story short, I need to get my shit together or this wedding is going to kill me. It'll be kick ass, but I'll be dead the day after.
Few things to mention
We've finally set a date, November 28th of this year. 131 days away I believe, which is just around the corner when you look at it like that.
My mind wont shut up. And regardless of what I do, it continues. Movies aren't helping, doodling isn't helping, writing is a joke and even throwing myself into music and books isn't helping. It's nearly 5am and I can't sleep because my damn brain wont switch off for the night.
Something has triggered this beast inside me, and I can't tell if it's good or bad. Bad obviously, since I'm still awake- but I have no idea if this is going to be a bad drop, or maybe no drop and just productivity?
Only time will tell, and until then I should do whatever it is my brain thinks is best, minus the not sleeping business. Even though doodling at 5am is exciting and all, I can only write "Fuck. Buck. Duck. Luck. Fuck. Luck. Duck. Buck" in cursive so many times before I start onto stars, hearts and various hair styles.
I wish writing would take my brain to a different place, but it doesn't. Doodling doesn't either but at least I can keep constantly busy with my hands instead of pausing every few seconds to try to think of phrasing, spelling or grammar.
So yeah. This blog is not what I wanted it to be about. But hey, at least the wedding got a shout out, right?
My mind wont shut up. And regardless of what I do, it continues. Movies aren't helping, doodling isn't helping, writing is a joke and even throwing myself into music and books isn't helping. It's nearly 5am and I can't sleep because my damn brain wont switch off for the night.
Something has triggered this beast inside me, and I can't tell if it's good or bad. Bad obviously, since I'm still awake- but I have no idea if this is going to be a bad drop, or maybe no drop and just productivity?
Only time will tell, and until then I should do whatever it is my brain thinks is best, minus the not sleeping business. Even though doodling at 5am is exciting and all, I can only write "Fuck. Buck. Duck. Luck. Fuck. Luck. Duck. Buck" in cursive so many times before I start onto stars, hearts and various hair styles.
I wish writing would take my brain to a different place, but it doesn't. Doodling doesn't either but at least I can keep constantly busy with my hands instead of pausing every few seconds to try to think of phrasing, spelling or grammar.
So yeah. This blog is not what I wanted it to be about. But hey, at least the wedding got a shout out, right?
7/28/2009
Cleaning House
Today I'm cleaning. But because I am so awesome at it, I'm wasting time avoiding cleaning by clicking around on the internet.
7/27/2009
Rage
I know I haven't heard both sides of the story, I know this. I'm fully aware. But I know my brother, or at least I think I do and the shit she's saying about him only half of it's true.
They're both crap parents. I'm sorry, but they are. They get high, take care of their kid. She strips and takes care of the kid, they let others smoke a bowl infront of their child. Seriously, why are idiots having kids? Shouldn't there be a rule somewhere about idiots not being allowed to fill their uterus'?
It pisses me off that the only solution to any of this is calling DCFS and even then, the chances of that child being placed soon, are slim to none and as my niece who I never see and have no real attachment too (Not like the Niece and Nephew who I adore) other than blood, and concern, I don't want that happening to her.
I'm in a sticky situation and I don't know what to do.
Edit: Figured out what to do. I"m going to stay the fuck out of it. Idiots have and destroy children's lives all the time. Why should this be any different? Selfish children having kids, it's brilliant isn't it? Ah, oh well. Soon enough I'll be gone and none of it will matter to me.
They're both crap parents. I'm sorry, but they are. They get high, take care of their kid. She strips and takes care of the kid, they let others smoke a bowl infront of their child. Seriously, why are idiots having kids? Shouldn't there be a rule somewhere about idiots not being allowed to fill their uterus'?
It pisses me off that the only solution to any of this is calling DCFS and even then, the chances of that child being placed soon, are slim to none and as my niece who I never see and have no real attachment too (Not like the Niece and Nephew who I adore) other than blood, and concern, I don't want that happening to her.
I'm in a sticky situation and I don't know what to do.
Edit: Figured out what to do. I"m going to stay the fuck out of it. Idiots have and destroy children's lives all the time. Why should this be any different? Selfish children having kids, it's brilliant isn't it? Ah, oh well. Soon enough I'll be gone and none of it will matter to me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)