Entertaining myself at the DMV

Everyone knows going to the DMV is the worst experience ever. Except for the one in Tallahassee that has a wait time of less than 5 minutes...

Needless to say, I am at the DMV right now. I chose the one in the disgusting Mall of the Americas. The reason I choose this one was because I hoped people wouldn't want to go to a mall for their driver's license and because malls have food courts. I think I also assumed since I've never been to this mall, no one else has either and it would be nearly empty.

I got here a little before noon already starving. So 2.5 hours later I am no closer to getting my license renewed- but I had some nice Burboun chicken from the food court.

Waiting at the DMV is like waiting in an airport for a delayed flight to board- except on airplanes you end your day where you want to be. At the DMV you end up getting something you had already with a minor update on it. Everybody is pissed and looking around at each other wondering what everyone else's number is (like you do in airports wondering who will be sitting around you). Occasionally you overhear "Whats your number?" conversations. All I want to say is "what difference does it make?". What does it mean to you if I'm 322 and you are 348 or 303 and they are currently calling 289 up to the desk. It's not like they gave us numbers based on our life's achievements. It doesn't make me better than you that my number is closer to being called than yours, I'm better than you because I don't ask that question.

There is also the inevitable who would you do mind game. People are looking around, myself included, checking the group as a whole then narrowing down the prospects of- if they had to, they would have sex with these people. I personally would do 1 person here, the guy next to me. I suspect he does not feel the same.

On that note, I'll leave you with a quote. My friend, and the world's greatest Frenchie, Mattieu says: I don't have a dirty mind I have a sexy imagination

Turning 29 is not like turning 30, it's worse

In a matter of days I will be turning 29 years old. To people in their early teens, this may seem cool... it's not. For people older than me, this may seem young...it's not. Just remember when you were 28 and turning 29, thinking about all the things you have not accomplished by the time you were 30. It's a really crappy age. My 30th birthday will be fun, because it's a big birthday and I imagine all 5 friends that I have will force me to have a great time. But 29, this sucks.

Here is a list of things that being 29 inhibits me to do:

-Become an actress on Glee: This really bothers me. Aside from my friends thinking I don't have the talent to be on Glee (assholes), it has become a problem that I am now too old to pass as a high school student. Even too old to pass as a high school student from 90210, where all their actors were in their 30s. Apparently, I look too old to be an unrealistic high school student as well.

-Dream big: What's the point. Honestly.

-Believe my undergraduate college degree would give me my "dream job". Nope. Didn't happen. Some might argue that I still have time to find and get my "dream job". I am a realist, even if I get a job I really love and enjoy and that is perfect for my talents...we all know something will be off. The boss will be an asshole, the company would downsize and/or fail completely, or my co-workers will be so gross and obnoxious that it will make life miserable.

-Dye my hair unnatural colors: It's not respected in the adult world. You end up looking like a hipster, lesbian (guys too), or drug addict. If you are none of those things, it's not a good choice...unless you are on TV and that's cool. Like the pretty one from "The Real L Word" who has slightly pink hair. But then again, she is a hipster-ish lesbian on TV and probably a drug addict.

-Learn a new foreign language or at least improve on one: It's really not going to happen. My Spanish, French and Italian are not getting any better. If anything, I just forget things more often.

-Make new friends: I'm pretty set in my ways at this point and prefer to do what I want to do as opposed to what other people want me to do.

-Take people younger than me seriously: I just can't anymore. I don't want to hear your dreams, because I am an honest person and will have to fight myself to tell you that it probably won't happen. Even if I love you dearly, which sometimes I do, I think of you as "cute" as opposed to interesting or realistic.

-Loose weight easily: Nope, not so easy anymore. F You metabolism.

-Dream small: Because I am older, I understand my limitations. Things like getting a dog, a big dream of mine, seems less realistic unless I live with someone who will help me take care of the dog. I know, it would be really hard for me to put the dog's interests before my own on some occasions- although I would love it unconditionally. I want to name him Taco, Prince Tyrion, Chick Magnet, or The Smoke Monster From Lost (Ticker Tape for short).

-Become famous: It doesn't matter what I become famous for, it's pretty unlikely at this point that I will. Really my only chance at becoming famous it to do something really horrible to a whole lot of people and that's not in the cards at the moment.

-Get piercings: (see Dye my hair unnatural colors above- same reasons)

-Not feel like a cougar when I watch any movie out ever and am attracted to one of the actors.

-Puberty: I can no longer blame mood swings, pimples, irrational obsessions with crushes, or me being an asshole on puberty.

Pinterest Me

OMFG- I found the Holy Grail!

I believe I have mentioned that I have recently become obsessed with Pinterest. If you've ever been on it once you know exactly what I am talking about. Yesterday, at about 10:30 I started browsing Pinterest for funny things and looking for things to Repin. I intended to go to bed by 11:00pm. At about 11:30, I found....

Wait for it....


Wait for it...

A Doomsday Prepper's Pinterest board!!!!!!!

I immediatly started re-pinnng her things, following her and all her prepper friends. I have so much prepper information now I feel like I am going to explode! Do you know what you need to make a candle that will burn for 45 days? I do. Do you know how to make your own septic tank? I do... I know it all!

For those of you that live in LA and need to prep for the major earthquake...this lady pinned websites on how to do just that!!!! (You know who you are, and you need to follow me on Pinterest asap...and what happened to you being a guest on my blog?)

The fact that I am so excited about this says a lot about my life at the moment. I am extremely bored. I can't do any of the prepping stuff that I want to, for the sole purpose of entertaining myself and showing guests how crazy I am, mostly because I live in an apartment.

If I had a house with a backyard, there would be no end to the fun things I would entertain myself doing. First on my list, build my own chicken coop with a garden box top to grow herbs. (I dont cook so I doubt I'll ever use them- but they will be pretty). I will sell my eggs to the neighbors (mostly since I eat about 1-2 eggs in month).

I have about 50 million "Do It Yourself" projects, or DIY for insiders, that I need to get working on asap.

I will start with my bathrooms and post when I finish. (Like you care...but this is basically the premise of my blog now. I talk, you read and never comment, so I keep talking to keep myself busy). If you want me to talk about particular things that interest you, comment and I will try.

Why I Am Not Approachable...

A likely conversation a stranger might have with me if they met me within the past week:

Stranger: Hey, how's it going? I see you here a lot. You are usually watching movies on your phone or reading. What are you watching?

Me: (Removing headphones, book already on the table) Whatever, it's not important. What's your name?

Stranger: Why? Are you watching porn or something?

Me: No, I tend to alternate between hurricane tracking and watching horrible YouTube videos about kids born in 3rd world countries with really incredible but sad deformities.

Stranger: Umm... Oh, so what are you reading?

Me: "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down" by Anne Fadiman.

Stranger: What's it about?

Me: Umm a Hmong child who was born in a traditional family but has epilepsy and the struggle her family and the child's doctors faced with the cultural differences in trying to treat their epileptic daughter.

Stranger: Oh, umm well it was nice meeting you...

Me: It's a really interesting story that delves into the differences... (cut off because stranger is walking away) ok, yeah it was nice meeting you too.

Prison Rules

Wow- the Seminole Hollywood Casino (not the Hard rock) is a hole. I went there tonight to see Sig Hanson from deadliest catch (awesome) and ended up hanging around camel-toed, mullet clad, 500lb-ers (not awesome).

This was a small casino that from the moment you walked in, you immediately got the nicotine consumption you would get from straight-up eating a pack of cigarettes in one breath.

What was amazing was there were at least 300 people there and maybe 50 were playing games or eating. Granted, many people were there to see Sig, but I'm pretty sure there were people there trading cigarettes for money to play slots.

One family was there just hanging out at the bar, not drinking anything, and basically sleeping at the table. With them was their 20-something year old son listening and dancing to hip hop songs on his iPad with headphones. I liked him, he was a one man show.

It's obvious that the place was busy because mobile home owners decided to ride out the hurricane there. Best part, aside from Sig being nice and really funny was that I was hands-down the prettiest girl there (not hard to accomplish).

I only could take a few pictures, so here they are. Oh, and I ordered a Smirnoff Ice as I was trying to blend in with the crowd. Look at the guy in the background- love his hair.

I am Katniss

I wish I could say otherwise, but I love the hunger games. I love the movie- I love the books... I think it's awesome.

I just got a new shipment of books I ordered and I'm looking through them after I just watched the hunger games move again- and even though these books are appealing to me, I want to re-read the hunger games.

I think I must be a teenager stuck in a striking young 28 year old body. Damn, aren't I supposed to be getting more mature with old age?

Guess not. I love it all- twilight, the hunger games, the entire true blood/sookie stackhouse series, all of it.

Doesn't mean I don't love good books or shows, but fuck I love the stupid shit too.

My hurricane plans:

Get batteries for my book light
Get water for my cat to drink
Replace my fan
Stock up on ice and booze for a potential hurricane party
Do laundry before my things stop working
Shave
Buy a gun for potential looters

Just kidding

I have to pee- have a good weekend and comment here or on YouTube regarding my application video. I'm writing you all everyday and I get nothing back... I know you are reading I see it in my stats...

My First Video

For those of you that don't know, I am applying to school. I am going for a Master's Degree in Global Strategic Communications with the Miami Ad School and with FIU. The application process for the Miami Ad School specifically has been very hard.

One of the components, the one I was the most nervous about doing was the video component. I had to make a 4-6 minute video on what makes me creative. This topic in itself is a hard question to answer. I literally wanted to make a 4 minute video to music of a white screen with the words "I don't know, I just am" and have the last frame say "Bitch".

I had no idea how to begin this assignment. A friend of mine also applied to Miami Ad School and had to make a video as well. Hers was good, kinda funny and very much like an ad on creativity...which is probably 100% what the admissions people want to see.

After seeing her video, there was also the additional challenge that we both have very similar backgrounds and how do I not outright copy her video. She even chose The Postal Service as her background music, which was exactly what I wanted mine to be.

The next step was making kind of an outline of what I wanted to say. So I typed out a "what makes me creative" essay and just thought about that awhile. I hated it and deleted it and re-started it about a hundred times.

Once I had the words, I needed to come up with the visual. First thoughts? Look up pictures of crazy people on the internet, download stills from YouPorn and use photoshop to alter them and pass them off as my original artwork. What I actually ended up doing was going though every picture in the computer and finding the ones that made me look pretty.

Once I found all 5 pictures of myself that I like, I needed to create the story around them. I wanted to include my friends, my family and the fact that I was taught by famous professors...I also kinda wanted to make people cry with how personal and touching it was. I was also going for the "wasn't college fun" feel. Some friends in the video I don't see much anymore, so I was hoping they would remember when watching the video that we used to love each other.

Picking the music I must say was the easiest part. I obviously had to rule out Postal Service, so after that I figured, since I was talking about my family, I should use Cuban music that didn't suck and wasn't so distracting that it would take away from the point of the video. So, I chose Buena Vista Social Club's "Chan Chan" which was immediately called out in an email from a friend that said "good call on the puerto rican music"...dick.

OK, so the video is attached. Please let me know what you think. Do you get what makes me creative? Do you think I should apply to a different school entirely and become a movie director? Reminder- the topic isn't SHOW ME THE ART WORK YOU HAVE DONE...its WHAT MAKES YOU CREATIVE.

I would have loved to include blog shots or have mentioned the blog, but I don't want them to read it. Side note: the video includes my real name and the names of relatives. So, to my 19 Russian readers, and my 1 reader each from the UK, Singapore and Germany- please don't stalk me.

So here it goes, watch the movie and comment. If you are my friend and you weren't in it, its because either I don't have a picture of you, or the picture of you that I have makes you look fat.

If this doesn't work try: http://youtu.be/a2caGXyHU4M

Eww

Certain smells make me naturally shut off my nose and force my body to breathe through my mouth. It's not a pleasant face that I make when this happens and it usually comes with some sort of gag noise. I can't help it.

Freshly cut grass, patrouli, cat poo and BO are usually the smells that shut off my nasal passage.

If you smell like BO and are in a small room, I'm going to make the gag noise, probably gasp for air, and re-adjust my system to breathe trough my mouth.

I encountered this problem today with this guy in a small room. Just me and him. I make my face and gag noises. I don't assume the smell is him- it's too foody to be exclusively BO. So I ask, "oh my god, what is that smell?" he responds, "I don't smell anything."

Awkward silence.

I start breathing through my mouth. He mutters "bitch" under his breath as he leaves the room.

Why am I a bitch??? You smell you fucker! If the room smelled like freshly cut grass I would have the same reaction but I wouldn't question the smell's origin. I genuinely didn't know he ate something ethnic and was BO sweating it out.

Dick.

Hurricanes and the natural disaster that is my writing

I love tracking hurricanes. My friends say it's obviously because I want a hurricane to hit me. Then again, my friends are assholes. I am truly scared of hurricanes. I have a lived through a few, most notable, hurricane Andrew.

Hurricanes make the power go out, so it's hot and dark. Storm shutters go up making it even darker. Then you hear noises outside like wind, things breaking, things falling. The worst is when you hear animals outside like stray cats crying or in some cases I'm sure they are being flown in different directions by strong winds...which is really sad to hear when you can't do anything about it.

I don't track hurricanes because I'm scared either. Hurricanes are just interesting to me. They are massive storms that have all the same characteristics of other natural disasters that we don't often get in this area: tornados, storm surges, tidal waves, dangerous rip currents, flooding (although that is pretty common for us here in Miami), strong winds...etc.

At this point with technology we can track hurricanes up to a week or more just when they develop off the coast of Africa. We start getting tracking and excessive news coverage about a week or so in advance. It's the only natural disaster that isn't sudden, that gives time for people to prepare. In that sense, we are lucky to have hurricanes as our only major threat to living here, especially since they are only once every 5-10 years.

What still amazes me though, is with all the advance warning we get, there are still assholes that chain themselves to the bottoms of their trailers refusing to leave, and soooo many people that do not prepare at all. To the defense of those effected by Katrina, especially in New Orleans, no one expected the levies to break, so there wasn't anything anyone could have done individually to prepare for what happened there.

Right now there is a tropical depression forecasted to hit Miami by Tuesday of next week. By the end of the day it will be Tropical Storm Isaac, and in a day or two it will be hurricane Isaac. By the time it makes US landfall it is expected to be a Category 2 or 3 hurricane. Which isn't bad, could be worse. The tracks can change and it may swing to the left or right of Miami, but as of now it is predicted to be a direct hit. At the moment, I'm not scared, I'm not panicked. I will, however, go and buy extra cat food and bottled water before it sells out.

This is the scary thing. About 2 days before a storm hits, water, plywood, many animal and people canned goods, duct tape, batteries, and other supplies sell out. Even gas stations for the most part are empty right before or right after a storm.

This is what makes the idea of doomsday kind of scary. If we all get wiped out by some nuclear event, so be it. However, if it is something like a catastrophic economic downfall, or a powerful solar flare, supplies will run out asap. Looting will happen asap. Starving to death or trying to fight people not to rob you of whatever it is that you are living off of does not sound like a good idea to me. The doomsday preppers will be the ones who survive. Everyone else will die slow miserable suffering deaths or get killed by other people. That is scary.

It may sound hard to believe if you are reading this...I swear I am not paranoid. That is just by train of thought this morning. The only other thing on my mind is that I hate the colors of my new iphone case- my hurricane tracking obsession makes a better story.

I should be a weather girl for hurricanes only. I already am one unofficially on Facebook, however, I think it would be fun. My grandfather always thought I would be a great anchor woman and had the looks for it. Little does he know I am practically blind, haven't gotten glasses yet, and would never be able to read a teleprompter fast enough or correctly. I am not a great out-loud reader.

I think I would call my segment OCD with Erin. The Ongoing Caribbean Discussion brought to you by Erin and the experts at the National Hurricane Center.

Poor Haiti, they are going to get hit by this thing badly. :( That's the last thing they need.

Let's Go Cry At Starbucks Together

What people talk about at Starbucks fascinates me. (Not like what I am doing is any less off at the moment). I am currently reading a book called "Giving Up The Ghost- A story about friendship, 80s rock, a lost scrap of paper, and what it means to be haunted". So, I'm pretty sure other people have thier own ideas about me.

Currently the two guys next to me are seemingly having a therapy session. One of them is gay (he has been talking about his past relationships). The other guy, doesn't talk at all.

The guy talking, lets call him Randy (because that looks plausible) has not stopped talking or smoking clove cigarettes for the past 20 mins. If I was dating someone who chain smoked cloves I would break up with them too, but I digress.

In the past 20 mins he has cried twice. He talked about at least 3 past relationships. He spoke about his fear of an impending tital wave that will wipe out Miami. (Scary). He spoke about his former suicidal thoughts as a teenager. He has spoken about how he is concerned his cat is the love of his life and he will never find love like that. (I hope this other guy he is with is not on a date with him). He mentioned drug use and then broke down crying, bit his fist and said it was just so hard to talk about this stuff to a complete stranger, and how he feels so comfortable talking to him.

Weird. I wonder if he just started talking to the guy at the table next to him. And it turned into a disaster. Poor non-talking guy.

Randy obviously has some issues.

As I am writing this, the two men just got up to leave. Randy wipes the last tear off his face, shakes the guy's hand and says "Thanks for letting me vent" and turns to get to his car and drives away. The other guy says nothing.

The possibility of how these two came to talk about Randy's life are endless. I'm pretty sure they don't know each other.

What is it about Starbucks- or coffee, chairs and tables outdoors that makes you want to talk to people? I know I have cried at Starbucks countess times for reasons way less severe than Randy's. At one point I wanted to go up to Randy and give him a hug. I didn't because Randy seemed particularly obnoxious and I didn't want to give off the impression that I wanted to talk. Although, his doomsday fears would probably make a good blog post.

Maybe I'm feeling extra sympathetic today because I am having a hard time myself and just finished reading Jaycee Duggard's "A Stolen Life" which is horrific. Her experience was so bad that I even bought a pinecone necklace to help support her foundation.

I'm probably admitting I'm going through a hard time right now cause I am drinking tea at Starbucks- FML. I am Randy and Randy is me.

Oh, I have recently become obsessed with Pinterest. I am attaching a picture of a joke that kept me laughing so hard I cried. No one else seems to get it, but I think it's amazing. Just think back into Math classes in middle school and high school, and tell me this didn't happen to you.

Nothing but Quality

My grandfather died a few days ago, August 13th to be exact. He was 92, a WW II vet who lived a long and good life. It was a cool ceremony- 21 gun salute (not 21 guns which I thought was pretty disappointing, only 4), they played taps, the soldiers were nice.

My grandparents lived in Lebanon, PA- which is where I am staying now for his funeral. Lebanon is an interesting place. Pretty, close to Amish lands, lots of corn and soy fields nearby etc. I remember coming here for my grandma's funeral and my boyfriend and I driving around and passing a gas station that advertised that they sold "live bait"- without a nearby body of water for at least 1-2 hours drive in any direction. So yeah, weird town.

There is one hotel, the Quality Inn. Everyone is nice, and thoughtful. At night there are bunnies running around over the hotel's courtyard. My question is what the f is going on in the room next door to mine?

If you can't tell by the picture, the light is on and there is a matress blocking the view of the inside of the room. They could close the blackout curtains if they wanted privacy... But taking the matress off the bed to the opposite wall?

I included a picture of the bunny- mostly because who doesn't love a good bunny pic?

Was that you?

It just wouldn't be me if I didn't have at least one post entirely about farts. Here are a few of my all time favorites:

- I was walking to my appartment in Brooklyn with a friend of mine. We approached a very business looking guy with a long coat listening to his headphones. (I am laughing histerically as I type this out) We approach the guy from behind waiting for an opportunity to cross the street. It had never been more quiet outside in the streets of Brooklyn. My friend and I stop being him, he farts. Loud and long. My face turns to utter shock, I am about to burst out in laughter. Then the guy lets out a loud and short follow up fart. I am about to spontaneously combust. I turn to my friend, his face is classic. His face is surprised yet also shows a hint of concern that I will not be able to handle the situation. I begin to laugh out loud. The guy turns around and looks at us, obviously embarrassed. I look at my friend to hold my laughter in, my friend looks at the guy, shrugs his shoulders as if to say "It happens to the best of us man". The guy practically runs across the street. I immediately start crying at the whole exchange- it's like it was too funny to bother laughing I had to skip to the tears of laughter. I recall my freshman year in college, 2 days after moving to New York and a friend I had met was sitting with me outside our dorm. He turns to me and says- "New York is great, it probably the only place in the world you can fart on the street unnoticed." The guy in Brooklyn was obviously a repeat offender to not have looked back to see if anyone was behind him before he farted. He was caught and I didn't stop laughing/crying for at least an hour.

- Some farts aren't funny. This story still bothers me. At work we have a valet for the building. I Valeted my car in the morning. When I give him the ticket to retrieve my car, he drives I back to me with all the windows open (odd). I step into my car and was overwhelmed by the smell of fart...almost like he had sharted in my car. He knew he did it, the windows were down, I knew he did it- but at this point there is nothing I can do about it. I can't get out of the car and wait I out, that would be embarrassing for him. So instead I am forced to drive away smelling in his farts. As a valet, I'm pretty sure it's understood that you fart on the way to the car and not in it. That was unacceptable. He didn't get a tip from me for a week after that one.

-I believed this has happened at least once to everyone of age. The inevitable sex fart. I'm not talking queefs, I'm talking about getting into having sex with someone and someone farts. This has happened to a partner of mine. Maybe a cooler, more mature girl can handle it. I cannot. If we are going to get down, you cannot fart. If I hear it, I will not be able to stop laughing. That's it for you. I wont describe who or how, but it's happened and I know it was bad for the guy. Nothing worse than a girl laughing at you uncontrollably, when you are naked and shutting all doors to the possibility. Sorry man, leave your farts at the door.

-My friend and I were in her kitchen late at night. She was talking all night about how her mom had made some awesome pie and she hoped her brothers didn't eat it all before she came home. Basically, we came home early for the pie. There was one slice left, and i have never before or since seen her so excited. She takes a slice and puts it on a paper plate. She takes one bite holding the pie with her hands and then drops it on the floor. We both start laughing incredibly hard. She then farts in her laughter. I'm already laughing so hard the fart puts me over the edge and I peed my pants. Good times.

- When I was about 16 or so I was the state representative to a steering committee for a young religious Unitarian group. I was in a steering committee meeting that had been going on for at least an hour. We were in a small room, people were sitting on the floor, sofas and the occasional chair. Here we are talking about serious issues...and then came the fart. No one laughed, we kept discussing the issues at hand. Everyone had assumed it was a chair on the linoleum floor. About a solid minute later, the wacky kinda funny guy interrupts the conversation and said "Excuse me that was me". It was like he farted, waited to see if it smelled, then when he discovered it did, he decided to own up to it. It was hilarious. He was so calm and straight forward. Everyone in the room had a good laugh... The laugh lasted about 1-2 minutes. I just could not stop laughing, it just kept replaying in my head. I would calm down and then start back up again. Long story short, I was asked to leave the meeting about 30 minutes later.

I'm sorry folks, I can't help it. There is nothing funnier to me than farts. The noise, the smell, the embarrassment, the who did it aspect, the admission from the culprit, the various victims. It's all just too funny. And yes, my friends and family are frequently embarrassed by my immaturity regarding this issue.

Fifty Shames of Earl Grey by Andrew Shaffer

This book is hilarious. I really needed to laugh the past few days and this is definitely working.

If you read the Fifty Shades of Grey series, you have to read this. I'm not sure it would be as funny if you didn't read the series though.

The book goes through the exact plot of Fifty Shades but slowly Earl Grey uncovers his fifty shames...one of which is that he is a Dungeon Master and into D&D role play in the bedroom. If that isn't enough to get you to read the book, I don't know what is.

Other things this book makes fun of:
Jersey Shore
Twilight
Nickleback
White Trash

Love it so far. There are definitely highs and lows, but the highs are really funny.

Making myself feel better

There is complicated stress and uncomplicated stress in my opinion. These two types of stress determine what books I am going to read.

I just returned from Barnes and Noble for my bi-monthly book run. I am a person who seems to be always stressed. I take pills for this as well as try home remedies such as baths and reading.

Uncomplicated stress is usually the type where I can take on a complicated book or series of books. That type of stress is, for example, I hate my boss but am going to stay at my job anyway, or I'm gaining weight, or I had a fight with a friend or boyfriend but everything will be fine in the end stress. For this type of stress you read "The House of Leaves" or take on "The Storm of Ice and Fire" series.

Complicated stress warrants lighter reading. Reading with a maximum of
5 characters and everything is going to be good in the end. Stories that make you laugh, David Sedaris books, or stories that are predictable yet are easy to read, Harriet Evans books.

Right now I am in a period of complicated stress. What am I going to do with my life type of stress. (It's much worse than I am prepared to describe on this blog). So, I must admit readers, I bought another Harriet Evans book. However, I am not going to read it yet.

My book choices today were hopeful. I bought 4 books, 2 uncomplicated and 2 complicated. I am hoping by the time I finish "Fifty Shames of Earl Grey" (a spoof book off the Fifty Shades series and the Harriet Evans book that my stress level will be down enough, or at least leave me in a place of hopelessness that I can take on the complicated books. One was the story of Jaycee, the girl that got kidnapped , and a story of a guy that went to a mental institution for seeing ghosts. (Just an FYI- I have an irrational fear of ghosts).

At least the last two may serve to make
me feel better in that horrible schadenfreude way. That's terrible and I am a terrible person... But sometimes you have to do what you can to keep going.

I leave you with this random image of a thing I found in my desk. It's a gooey fake boob that had a lump in it and
an example of a lump that can only e detected by a mammogram. I preformed surgery at work on this boob and now it is lump free.

Calling 911

I have called 911 exactly 2 times in my life. The first time was in New York and some old lady at the local deli was lying on the floor. I was trying to get a bagel to get to class. I realized, mostly because she was staring right at me, that I was going to have to get involved. There were 2 store employees helping her up. She was crying. (When old people cry it’s the saddest thing in the whole world). I asked they people there “Is everything ok?” to which they responded “Yes, she does this all the time.” She was staring at me asking me to please call 911. The store people said not to. I didn’t want to turn down a crying old lady, so I said “Ok”. I called, I told 911 the situation. I gave them my name and the address of the deli. I finally got my bagel and I went to school.

The second time I called, I was in NY with friends of mine from out of town. We were next to a park and it was late at night. We had been drinking, and my friend didn’t feel like walking around the park to go home. NY closes some of their parks at night for safety. I insisted my friend walk around the park, he said ok and then jumped the fence. We all had to at this point to follow him. We crossed the very scary park and saw one bench lit by one street lamp. There was a guy standing up in front of another man on his knees. It looked like he was holding a gun to his head. They were arguing. So, we decided to run the rest of the way across the park. We finally got out and sat on the steps of my apartment discussing what we saw. I decided to call 911 and let them know. When I called, they said “Hello, Ms. *****, how can I help you?”. I was PISSED. I don’t want 911 to know my name. I don’t want to call them in a personal emergency and have them say “What is it now Erin?”. I told them the situation and hung up.

There may have been one more time that I called, but I don’t remember. On CNN today, there is a link to a 911 call where a guy called 911 asking them to please pick him up and take him to the store to buy beer. When they said they don’t do that, he asked ok can you please go the store and bring beer back to him. That’s pretty funny if you ask me. Interestingly enough though, the 911 operator didn’t know his name. Why do they only know me?

Wash Your Face Or You WILL Die

Readers, if you are touching your face right now…STOP..immediately. Apparently a man died in South Carolina by the flesh eating disease necrotizing fasciitis, most likely because the bacteria entered his body through a pimple. That is a really really shitty way to die. Not only do you go through the embarrassment of having a pimple at age 55 to begin with, your flesh all of your body then gets eaten by it. This, my friends, is what nightmares are made of. Any teenagers reading? Get ProActive today.

Another terrible death:

My cat murdered my frogs. For about a year I had 2 of those controversial water frogs that you can buy at Hallmark. They lived in a plastic case with a bamboo plant, rocks and water. We fed them once a week. Fry and Leela, the frogs, lived happily in their confined cube for almost two years until we got a kitten. Oh man, this is where it gets bad. We have a loft apartment, so there are no doors on our bedrooms and everything is open air, so basically the cat had access upstairs and downstairs. Neither of us, me and the bf, had ever seen the cat go upstairs since she was a small kitten with a broken leg. Just in case, we put the frogs on the highest dresser on the top floor. (We couldn’t lock them in the bathrooms as the frogs needed sunlight to survive). Please, imagine being the frogs in this situation. All of a sudden and enormous alien-looking creature starts staring at you through the fish-eye type glass. The creature is massive in comparison to your size. She probably hisses bad kitten breath on you. Then slowly starts pushing your living space little by little causing your water to shake. The frogs are probably looking at each other scared at this point. Then finally, the kitten makes her last push and the frogs watch each other and their home fall about 7 feet to a crash landing on the floor. They are no longer in water. Their tree and rocks are all over the place. They are both suffocating from lack of water. Then the alien monster cat returns and eats one of the frogs, right in front of the other one. Hopefully, the frogs are dead on impact but doubtful. Then the kitten goes to eat the last frog. How terrifying. It was hard to love my cat that day. We came home and went upstairs only to find a tragic murder scene. All the evidence of the crash landing was there, but not the bodies. Only one drop of blood around the corner in the apartment was all we could find. It could be the frog’s but most likely the cat cut itself on a piece of plastic. She was upstairs lying by the crime scene taking a nap. Sociopath.

Yearbooks

I went to my parent's house yesterday to gather some of my old artwork and things I may need to apply to school. (I'll tell you all about it if I get in.) Among many lost treasures, I found my freshman and senior year high school yearbooks. I must admit, it is a bit strange reading them 10 years after the fact. I wish I could go back to high school and have some people change things in their messages to me. Mentioning the fights we got in or how often I skipped school and went to Starbucks, were things I would rather not remember now. However, there were a lot of really funny messages that I thought I would share:

"Damn, it's been since the 3rd grade. That's a really long time. Have a great summer."

"I'm so glad you had Ms. F with me this year so I didn't kill the shiny-headed bitch!"

"I want you to have lots of fun, drink lots of beer, and kiss lots of boys."

"I had a lot of fun talking to you in Spanish class...WHEN YOU WERE THERE! I guess Starbucks is just more appealing than me. Thank you for always telling me you thought I was smart, even if you didn't mean it."

"You're a cool girl, and it's always refreshing to see someone who's different and not another fucking conformist". (One of 3 people who appreciated me for not being a conformist...thought that was funny in itself)

"When you go to New York and are in a coffee shop listening to jazz, picture me laughing at you and calling you a fag."

"I hate yearbooks. Love, B"

"Use condoms in sex and oral sex. Love, V"

"You've been a really cool "deep" person. I mean you are are not that stupid girl that hangs out w/ all the lesbians. Make sure your shits clean. Don't die."

"Waz up? Even though Ben says you're wierd. I think you're cool. Lets gang up on the people who took my scissors. Call me when you want to give me a B.J."

"Well its been simply raw chillin with you this year. Man I really wanted some head. Remember, the black stallion will always be here for you as a friend or for someone when you are extremely wet." (Gross, but funny)

My Favorite Yearbook Message of ALL TIME:

"Dear E-
     I really loved getting to know you good this year. It all started with a simple "sup" with a nod. Since then we've grown to become almost-lovers. You are a really cool white chick. I really like your style. I like your big coffee cups. J/K. You are cool-ass. That means cool. Moreover, you are smarter than you look. Don't worry that is not an insult. I like your great attitude and your not-stuck-up-ness. But most of all, I like your little black man. Thank you. P.S.- I hate Ms. F"

*Just a side note about this message. I found a tiny little black man in the crack of a sidewalk one day around school. The guy was less than an inch tall and was wearing a white shirt and overalls and had one hand raised up. I assume he was used in a small scale model of some sort and came off...but I loved him and carried him around in the change purse in my wallet for years.

More Olympics Commentary

Old man talking to his grandson:

30 years from now-

Grandson (GS): Grandpa, what did you do when you were my age?
Grandpa (GP): Well back in my day young men spent their time becoming athletes instead of sitting in front of the computer all day. We spent 10 years of our lives devoted to our sports to be in the Olympics.
GS: Were you in the Olympics Grandpa?
GP: Well yes son, I was. I walked 2 hours every day in the snow to get to my gym to train. I won a medal you know.
GS: Really???? In what?
GP: Trampoline
GS: Trampoline? Like the one at Timmy's house? Which medal did you win?
GP: Well, I won the bronze medal in Trampoline Artistry back in 2012.
GS: So you spent 10 years of your life practicing jumping on a trampoline and you were only 3rd best?
GP: Yes, it was an honor in those days. And it was 3rd best in the WORLD.
GS: That's sad.

Advice from your co-workers...

So imagine you work for this company- Company X for the purpose of this post.

You find out that the leadership of Company X has been involved in a fraud scandal. You recieve an email from the person in charge of Company X telling the staff about the situation and how the people responsible have been terminated and there may be more terminations moving forward.

This email goes out to the whole staff.

No big deal, a bit surprising of course but otherwise, you as an individual are fine.

Then one of the low-level staff members at Company X sends an email to the entire staff encouraging them to be strong and keep the faith etc...

What do you do? What would I hypothetically do if I recieved this type of email from someone I've never even met, you ask? I throw up in my mouth.

This is the type of email I am referring to in my hypothetical scenario:

In All Honesty...

My weaknesses:

- J Lo movies
- Jennifer Aniston movies
- The Notebook
- PS I love you
- Beer
- Most shows on primetime TV
- Having cash in my wallet
- Any TV show relating to pregnancy (I didn't know I was pregnant in particular)
- Any TV show relating to medicine (Untold Stories of the ER)
- Any TV show relating to human weakness (Hoarders, My secret addiction, Doomsday Preppers, Intervention)
- Any TV show related to weddings
- Reality shows involving black people
- Accents
- Subway musicians
- Homeless people with pets
- Macaroni and Cheese (Kraft)
- Blue eyes and dark hair
- People that think bad jokes are funny
- Assholes
- Guys that like me
- Musicians
- Obama's inauguration speech
- Stone Crab
- Romantic Comedies
- Vince Vaughn
- Huge Nerds
- Ghosts
- My secret vices
- Yellow X-Terras
- Anything I like but can't afford
- Little People
- Short story books that are funny
- Farts and Fart Jokes (Poop jokes as well)
- Challenges
- Space Ice Crean

I'm sure there is more but that's all for now.

Olympics/ Reunion Finale

Regarding my family reunion, it was really fun. The last day was the family Olympics. Each sector of the family has a different color and we compete against eachother in games like slip and slide, hula hoop snakes, water balloon tosses, egg diving relay races etc (if you don't know what any of those games are... Too bad).

After the games we have one big family goodbye dinner. This part is always special as you don't think you would, but you actually get sad to say goodbye. The kids cry, the adults hug and everyone goes thier seperate ways. We are now a family of 153 and growing. Basically, the general consensus among each member of the family is that breeding is mandatory. It's not something you do for yourself, it's a sacrifice you make to build the strength of your team for the reunion olympics. Angelina Jolie would be a god in our family.

Speaking of the Olympics, the real one, I'm struggling to understand what I find is so fascinating about them. I rarely to never watch sports on tv. If I was channel surfing and landed on beach volleyball, synchronized diving, swimming meats, track etc I would definitely without question change the channel... Unless its women's gymnastics which is like my crack.

Every night I have channel surfed through the Olympic games I have stayed stuck watching the entire night, usually past midnight. (my bed time is around 10).

Someone made the obvious comment to me today explaining my obsession with the games. "You watch because they are the best in the world".

No, that isn't it. If told me that the best beach volleyball player in the world was playing tonight at 8, I wouldn't watch it or waste my space on the DVR even to fast forward to the end. But when I caught the volleyball and men's gymnastics on Monday I was hooked. I cared about all of them in the same way I care and get concerned about the cast of Grey's Anatomy.

I recently downloaded the CNN app that sends me notifications of daily news headlines. CNN told me yesterday, before I watched the games, who won and I still watched every second. I feel like I am not alone in this obsession.

A good comparison would probably be the movie Titanic- we all knew what would happen. I saw it anyway, not once, but at least 4 times in the theater. I just don't get myself sometimes.