Across the street from my house lives a school for the wee children of the city. I attended there, as did all my brothers and a couple of cousins. Not to mention a plethora of other people. This evening there was a meeting to discuss an upcoming remodel, and I was going to attend. Because you know, reasons. I was running a bit late; my dad had already been there for a while. I approached the cafeteria, it was obviously full. I peeked in looking for my dad, and I couldn’t find him. And so, I did what a normal person would do, and left.
Okay, so they opened the meeting up for the public, because the remodel is going to effect the neighborhood. So, I had every reason to be there. But there were so many people, some of them not in their hoodies. I thought maybe because I now have a grown up job, that perhaps I’d be more suited to deal with other adults. But no. In fact, being around people all day just makes me want to build a blanket fort and hide. I suppose it’s good to know for sure that I’m not fit for being out in public. Or maybe the public at large isn’t ready for me and I’m just more socially evolved than most.
Yeah… I couldn’t even write that last line without giggling. I’m pretty sure I’m socially inept. Here’s the thing, I think I’ve been this way my whole life. Even at a young age, I was introverted and had a few close friends rather than a bunch of friends. And for the most part, 99% of the time, I’m all right with the way things are. The way I interact with my surroundings doesn’t usually bother me. Occasionally, there are times when I think just maybe I should try a little harder to get out of my shell. But it’s comfortable and stuff.
Posted in Soapbox, Life, Magic, Reality for the win, Dating, Language, Mornings, Awkward, Work, Musings, Ramblings, Reading, Politics, Culture, Spinsterhood, Geek, love, Adulting
I want a tattoo. I want a tattoo so bad. (Okay, so I typed those first two sentences and wandered off for like a half hour.) So, back to the topic at hand. Tattoos, I want at least two more. It has gotten to the point where my big nephew got some fake tattoos today, and he shared with me. As I type this with my sleeves rolled up, I admire the dark black against my pale skin. That’s right. I’m at the point where a child’s fake tattoo is something to be admired. What the hell has become of my life?
There is a reason why I have been at my job for almost three months now and haven’t got one yet. In fact, there are many reasons why I have yet to get some ink done. (You know, to sound hip and cool.) Things like wanting to pay for an eye exam and contacts. Because even though I have insurance with my fucked up eyes, I have to pay out of pocket. And it’s also a pretty penny, because you know it’s not enough that my corneas are misshapen. NO! I have to pay for contacts so I can actually get close to 20/20 vision.
Another reason why I haven’t got another tattoo yet, is that I need a new computer. Mine is slowly dying. Two years ago I had the memory expanded? Enlarged? Added? Whatever it is one does to have more memory capacity as well as have the battery replaced and some other things. Even with all the repairs and upgrades, I probably should get a new one before this one explodes and I lose all the things on it. Because backing up isn’t my thing. Okay, it isn’t my thing, but every now and then I remember to do it. Usually when I add more photos. But I really should start doing it when I write more.
Sorry about the technological rabbit trail. Back to the reasons why I haven’t been able to get a tattoo yet. Christmas is coming up and so are a ton of birthdays, which I’m saving up for so it isn’t a major blow in December. Plus I’m going away the day after Thanksgiving for a couple of days and I want to have money to spend on drinking. I plan on locking myself away for the weekend at the beach and write. And of course, drinking is a given on such a weekend. And all that costs money. I’ve also been buying work clothes and things like pillows and books. And lets not forget my now regular monthly bills or my bi monthly bills because my dad doesn’t mind getting paid for the phone twice in one month. He’s only human.
But really I just want to run out and get a tattoo. I know who I want to go to even. I know what I want. Everything is set except for the money. Stupid money always foiling my plans. I remember before, when I wasn’t working, I thought being a grown-up would be amazing. But no! It’s paying for things like contacts and computers. Perhaps I ought to stop my bitching and just be grateful that I have a job in my field. Still though, somedays (like days ending in y) I just want to be irresponsible and get tattoos and/or stay in bed the entire day.
I’m pretty sure at one point in time my space wasn’t as cluttered. I mean, it’s always cluttered as I’m a 35 year old person living in the room I was put in when I was a baby. Still though, I remember being able to actually navigate the room without cursing from banging my toe into something. That was a thing, I’m almost positive. Of course, I could be totally hallucinating or having false memories of something that never was. I could be in the middle of decompensation involving thinking I’ve been more on the whole getting rid of stuff ball than I am now. But that is a very specific way to decompensate, and as far as I know I’ve never had a mental breakdown involving false memories and/or hallucinations before. Regardless, it feels like I suddenly have a lot more stuff than I used to.
Okay, admittedly, since I’ve been getting regular paychecks, I’ve been more able to buy books and DVDs. So, yes, my book and DVD possession has increased significantly in the last threeish months. But that not the only aspect of the clutter. I have two chairs in my room in the middle of my floor, and I know for a fact I didn’t buy either of those. One is from the set that used to go around the kitchen table but gives me a rash if comes into contact with my bare skin. The other was a high seated chair my brother had when he lived alone. That one has clothes on it, and I prop open my curtain on it so I’m not in complete and utter darkness when I get dressed in the morning.
Then there are the boxes. I suppose many of the boxes came from the aforementioned books and DVDs. And because I’m my mother’s daughter, I can’t just get rid of a perfectly good box. No! I could put stuff in it or use it at Christmastime. For a while, I was thinking I could actually afford to live on my own in the greater Seattle area (a delusion that was quickly squashed looking at rent prices), but I hung onto some boxes just in case. Oh and also when the sheds got cleaned out, I found some things that I felt should come inside, like my cardboard, life-size, Legolas cut-outs. That is correct. I have more than one life-size cut-out of the elf. Don’t judge me.
I suppose I’ve answered my own question. The crap from the title came from myself and spending money. Obviously, I could get rid of at least one of the chairs. And I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to break down a few of the boxes and put them in the recycle bin. Also, if I actually put my clothes away, I think that may help. But I hate putting my clothes away. I know it’s super weird to have such a distaste. It’s like the third household chore I hate. #1 is doing dishes. Fucking hate that. #2 is putting them away. Right, it’s obvious I have issues, but I’m working on them. That’s the important thing, correct?
Posted in Awkward, Culture, Depression, Dreams, Family, Geek, Language, Life, Lore, Musings, Ramblings, Reading, Reality for the win, Words, Work
Good advice comes in various packages for various circumstances. Sometimes it comes in the form of a passage of a classic novel. Other times it comes in the form of a line of play. And then there are times when you catch yourself quoting the most heinous villain in Sci-Fi history. (Khan? Shut the hell up. I don’t watch that shit.) That’s right, I’m talking about the mother fucking Emperor from Return of the Jedi.
I’ll give you just a moment to let that sink in. Now stop your judging me. I’m not actually a monster. I don’t have horns nor a spiky tail; in fact I don’t have a tail at all. No. Really, it’s true. No tail in the slightest. But yes, I quoted Emperor Palpatine. So let me lay out the scene… Friend was recently hosed over by a potential gentleman caller. Friend is currently dealing with emotional shit involved when one is hosed over by potential gentleman callers. Friend is sad right now and doesn’t hate potential gentleman caller who hosed her over. That’s when I stepped in with imperial advice about encouraging the haterade. It culminated in me saying let your hatred flow.
Then I caught myself. Luckily I’m not wearing a dark blue cloak, and I have some pigment to my skin. So, you know, I was able to separate myself that way. Also Friend was kind enough to point out, I’m not nearly as ugly as the emperor. (When you’ve been friends with someone forever, you can give them back-handed compliments like that.) I’m glad I’m not as ugly as the emperor; I was worried for just a sec. I feel there’s nothing wrong though with encouraging Friend to go through the entire run of emotions when one is getting over a potential gentleman caller. I didn’t encourage her to stay angry and hating forever… just for now.
So really… It’s not as bad as all that. I mean I wasn’t telling Friend to forsake her friends and kill her half robot father. No, I was just encouraging her to get through the grieving process. Sadly though, I can’t make electricity flow through my fingers. Thus if I’m going to electrocute someone to do my bidding, I have to do it the old-fashioned way. (Insert sad face here). I mean its not that I’ve actually tried. But you know, I’m just assuming I don’t harbor villainous powers like that.
Posted in Awkward, Dating, Family, Geek, Language, Life, Lore, Musings, Politics, Ramblings, Reality for the win, Spinsterhood, Star Wars, Words
I have a Yoda dry erase board on my wall at work. I finally found a quotation to put on it…
I always pass on good advice; it’s the only sensible thing to do with it.
Thank you Oscar Wilde. At one point in time I thought it’d be nice to fill my cork board at work with many different quotations. However, as it turns out, the majority, if not all, the quotations I’m drawn to are inappropriate (to say the very least). Evidently,not everyone finds quotations about suicide or mocking other peoples’ intelligence as hilarious as I do. And Lord help me if there is a quotation combining both.
If I wanted to kill myself, I’d climb your ego and jump to your IQ.
How can you not find that hilarious? I wish I knew who penned such a saying, because I’d shake her/his hand. That’s pretty brilliant. BUT… like I said, it’s probably not conducive to a therapeutic environment. Sorry. I spaced out there for just a sec, imagining what sort of horrors would ensue if I were to post that quotation. I mean there are other quotations I also like, but they’re no better, most of the time involving wine or liquor in general. Probably not the best for people in recovery.
One cannot eat muffins in an agitated manner
That’d be Oscar Wilde again. I totally appreciate this quotation. But it seems really random without context. Not to mention the evil reputation of carbs and sugar as of late. And we all know the good muffins are loads with sugar and carbs. One could also be accused of encouraging my clients to bury their feelings by eating muffins. I personally think muffin therapy could be the next big trend in post-modern psychology, but I digress.
Posted in Awkward, Culture, Dreams, Geek, Language, Life, Musings, Politics, Ramblings, Reading, Reality for the win, Words, Work
All but one of my clients no showed today. Good ness all but one of those called to say they weren’t going to make it. However, that did leave me with a lot of time on my hands today. This morning it was easy to keep busy. Catching up on paperwork and checking to see if I was the only one who didn’t choose diagnostic formats when giving my clients diagnosis. Good news I’m not! But shhh don’t tell the data entry woman that lest she lose her shit and start WRITING EMAILS LIKE THIS!!! Right so, the little stuff. But then, the afternoon came with all its boring non-business.
There was nothing to do. Okay, had I known what to do with the 180 day treatment plan reviews, I’d have perhaps had some work to do. However, if I knew how to do them, I most definitely would have done them by now. Why? Because my co-worker is a warning to me about getting behind on the paperwork, and it’s a scary scary place. Like I said, there was nothing happening in the afternoon. I checked my personal email while making up excuses why I was using the company computer for personal use. (I was checking to see if I had an article saved.) When I logged out and the MSN homepage popped up, my blood pressure rose when I spotted the word octopuses. Suddenly (instead of seeing red), I remembered my Friday night about a year ago when I discovered the random article link on Wiki.
I spent my afternoon reading random Wiki articles. I don’t perhaps remember exactly all the article I read, or any of them. But that’s not the point. The point is, I was forced to spend the afternoon on the internet. I “may have” also continued working on a story that restarted on Friday. My two favorite things… writing and random facts. I must admit the afternoon went by faster than had I been actually doing my job. It was a nice change of pace. However, I didn’t want to spend my entire afternoon goofing around, so I watched my co-worker clean out her fish tank as well. Exhilarating stuff lemme tell you. Hopefully, tomorrow more than one client will actually show.
Posted in Awkward, Culture, Geek, Language, Life, Mornings, Musings, Politics, Ramblings, Reading, Reality for the win, Words, Work