Monday, June 28, 2010

Potential Pet Names:

Psychologie (but pronounced like in German)(...puh-sick-oh-loh-gee)
Sypholis (nickname: The Syph)
Teddy Roosevelt
Ghengis Khan
Roy Mustang
Captain Forbes Thor Kiddoo
Emporer Norton (Protector of Mexico) <-- By the way, if I ever open a pub, it will be The Emporer Norton. It will have Skee-Ball, cider, and so much* delicious food. Yes. You saw correctly. I am going to open a pub that serves dim sum, sushi, donuts, and every other fried monstrosity imaginable. Don't tell me about the logistics of that kind of food service combined with a bar and arcade and possible bowling alley! I won't hear it!

There's going to be a velociraptor pen in the back.


Life will find a way.


I forget what I was talking about.

Also, I think this may be the right medication for me? It also may really, really not be. I'm having a hard time telling if I'm being way more ADD or way less. It's possible Prozac negatively affects maturity levels...I'm unclear on this...

Also,'s possible I am a boy on the inside. Badass historical figures, infectious diseases, dinosaurs, and Butts. I really don't know how this happened. At least I didn't put this one down. But I giggled. A lot. And I could have put down about twenty more diseases, like Tetanus or Hemorrhoid. Or Cancer. I think I'll name my bunny Cancer. Of the prostate. By the way, don't google image search "worst disease." I'm pretty morbid, but that was just a bad idea, and now I can't look away.

* Yes, you do see a flower made of salmon.

Things that are making me happy right this second

I'm probably going to change my mind about all of these things in two hours, BUT:

I've been contemplating and researching future unrealistic purchases, such as a kitten: Scottish Fold, or a bunny: Tan. Sabie needs a friend and the crazy pet lady within me is fighting violently to get out. Luckily, my lack of funds is preventing me from purchasing either of these. Potential reward of bunny/kitten is, however, a great motivator in my job search.

I am not becoming morbidly obese! While I am completely out of shape, every time I am bold enough to put on one of my smaller fitting outfits, this fear (okay, it's sort of a paranoia) is disproved. Then I go eat more Nutella. Because yes, that's right, I bought Nutella. I never buy Nutella. You know why? Because I eat ALL OF IT. It is the most delicious thing I have, and will ever in the entirety of my purportedly expected 70-80 year long life, experience. I pretty much had Nutella every single day of the four months I lived in London. It was a major contributor to my "HolyshitI'meatingNutellastraightoutofthejarI'msuchafatty" panic which was in turn a great contributor to my actually losing some weight and vowing never to let myself eat like a rabid gingerbread man zombie-cannibal again. After three years of refusing to buy it, I caved. It will be gone soon, and I will be able to be less concerned about my obesity-paranoia, but that Nutella has made me so happy every time I have put it on any of the following things this week: bread, brownies, chocolate chip cookies, tortilla chips (I ran out of everything else...) and, of course, straight. Guilty, but happy.

Yesterday Liesl and I made bacon wrapped asparagus, drank beer, watched Dr. Who, walked up to Fort Funston, and went hot tubbing yesterday. Not in that order. And that is how a girls' day should be done.

The only I've spent in the last week was on groceries. Granted, that's because my days have mostly been spent on Craigslist (I need a joooooooooob) and Reddit, but my social outings have consisted of girls day with Liesl, extremely drunk brother hangouts at Ocean Beach, and father's day cookout. Oh. Wait. I also bought two beers out with old coworkers. Totally acceptable, though, as I haven't seen those people in months. This also means I've been cooking a lot, which is awesome. It also, less awesomely, means my house guest has seen the extent of my cooking abilities, and the oddities of my eating habits. Spring roll wrappers are the new bread. Don't judge me.

Reddit is amazing, my cat is fucking cute and super snuggly, chocolate chip cookies and Nutella tastes like CHRISTMAS, Chatroulette is hilarious, the dress I wore to my brother's high school graduation when I was 14 still fits perfectly, I'm going to sushi with at least two of my favorite people in a few hours, and I HAVE ART MOTIVATIONS AGAIN!


My brother and his fiance are going to be so excited when they see their wedding present next month:

I even framed it.

It's red white and blue because love is made of red. And she's Jewish. I was going to write something about pigs and Yamakas, but I would like to meet my hopeful future nieces and/or nephews (no pressure, really, I'm cool with the hairless cat, too) at some point, so maybe I won't.

And oh holy Jesus, my life will not be complete without this shirt.

I have never been less worried about what people who read my blog will think of me when they see this post. Bizarre, random, anxiety ridden self-deprecation is life. :)

EDIT: I may just settle for a fish named Calamity Jane. She will have googly eyes.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Common Innapropriate Behavior

[I'm supposed to be writing down my anxieties so that I can think straight (and sleep). I was going to make a mildly humorous quiz about acceptable behavior as a human being (to deflect, and sound less whiny), and then I started adding old stuff that people did that, let's face it, I am still pretty pissed about when it does come up. And then I still felt whiny so I stopped listing things and just started analyzing myself again. ...which is kind of the opposite of the point.]

Like Meg McBlogger, I have a problem with grudges. I'm not proud of the fact, but it will probably never change. However, also like Meg, who follows her own patented Make it Right Theory, if some form of recompense occurs (in the form of an apology), the grudge will fade. I can continue to be upset about the events that transpired, but as long as I know you understand why I was upset, I will get over it.*

Unfortunately, it can be difficult to tell what "angry" is with me until you've actually seen it. There's tired, frustrated, stressed, irritated, just generally pissy, and then there is legitimate, directed anger. They're all basically the same in that I want to be left alone. If I'm actually angry with someone, I have to be completely sure that whatever happened was not okay by conventional standards.

It's hard to tell the difference in a lot of my moods, especially who or what they are directed at or caused by, I know. But rest assured, if I am really, really pissed, you will know. About one (resolved) incident, my brother said, "I hope you were cold, because when you're cold, you're cold."

I felt like a badass.

PS Except mostly it just means I pretend you don't exist.
It's like being demoted below stranger status.
Dishonorably discharged from mah life. BAM.
That's what I'm going to call it from now on. A dishonorable discharge.

PPS I put too much vanilla in my cookie dough and now it smells like booze.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

In an attempt to be positive I've started a few creative projects to either 1. make people smile, or 2. help/encourage people. I've been brainstorming on things that do either of those.

The thing is, what prompted me to do this was the thought that I never do anything for anyone else (implied: because I'm a horrid selfish narcissistic bitch of a girl who never follows through and ruins everything for everyone with my bad attitude and worse life skills).

I started thinking more about that.
And then I realized it was B.S.

I do lots of things for people!
I do also tend to complain about a lot, and get upset and confused about things in general, which sometimes spoils the good things I do, but that initial intention is there, and is usually followed through on (which is the thing that surprised me when I realized it). The afterward is where the niceness tends to go away, but that is another issue (called disillusionment)(...and debatably "too high" moral and civil standards...very debatably).

Point being, I need to give myself more credit. I also need to learn to do the right/nice things without necessarily expecting the reward of other people doing the same in return, or having the same idea of what "nice" or "right" is. Or a thank you.

So I'm giving myself credit for all the good things I did today, and for being the me I want to be (which happens far less than I'd like to admit). I'm trying to forget the things I did or thought today that made me less than proud, and I'm trying to convince myself that "not being amazingly perfect, amiable, and entertaining at all times" does not fall under the category of "things I'm allowed to beat myself up over." To be honest, I'm still not convinced of that, but the list is pretty long, so maybe I can just pretend I don't see it on there for a while.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Can't sleep.

Again. Or ever.

I just want sleepies. Why can't I have the sleepies? At a normal hour, that is. Because I've got the 6 am-2 pm shift DOWN. And then I am sleepy all afternoon and evening. And then I finally get in my bed, exhausted, and no. 4 hours later (with prescription assistance, I might add); nothing. NOTHING. Relaxation videos: nothing. All manner of tossing and turning. And it's not that I'm not tired. I am really, really, really tired. So very, very many yawns.

The 6-2 sleep schedule is not a good one. It's not deep sleep, because there is tons of light and I'm constantly waking up to make sure I'm on time to whatever it is that I have probably already missed, and every part of my body has definitely voted unanimously that it doesn't count.

I need a massage desperately. But I also don't want anyone to touch me, at all. Either way I can't relax, which means I can't get any sleep. SAD FACE AND AGGRAVATION.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Self chastisement + goose!

Velociraptor-goose tale!

In an effort to lessen my hermit tendencies by actually being able to have people over, I WILL be cleaning my apartment tomorrow. FOR REAL. Now I must do it because IT IS WRITTEN.

Note to self, when you start dicking around on the internet at appointed cleaning time:
YOU! Stop it. Your apartment is gross, like woah. The only acceptable alternative to cleaning is FINDING A DAMN JOB. Which does not mean looking at hilarious Craigslist personal ads or postings for free things. If you are not actively sending out or editing resumes, it does not count.


Oh, astrology.

Do I believe in astrology? No.
Do I still find it a fascinating subject, especially at 2:30 in the morning when I can't sleep because I already did that...all day long? Yes!

Do I find it absolutely hilarious just how much I coincidentally fit under my own sign? For reals, yo.

I think it's pretty safe to say that I hold a grudge. Rull bad. Make a comment about my personal life that I find less than flattering, especially when I didn't ask your damn opinion? We're probably not friends anymore. Actually do something that in some way offends me (ya'll know what I'm talking about)? Oh, you will rue the day. And how.

Until I realize I'm WAY overreacting and get over it, that is. Several months later. Usually.

But yeah, that's pretty much what I understand to be the definition of a scorpio lady: totally sweet until you do something she doesn't like, in which case she becomes a heinous bitch.

So, my favorite astrological research is sign compatibility. I had a friend who's mother did horoscopes for a living and took this stuff very seriously. So seriously that star charts had to be done for her and her boyfriend to make sure it was an acceptable match. Ridic. I know.

These are my favorite bits about scorpio compatibility with various signs, according to this site:

"When It’s Over: There will be Brinkmanship. There will be hell to pay. There will be a pound of flesh extracted revenge, grudge f****** and paybacks galore. This pair does everything to excess and breaking up is no exception. It’s too bad about their children and other innocent bystanders."

"Progression of Relationship: Balls to the wall."

"This couple is full of surprises, some of them scary, and some of them really scary."

"Can you imagine the circumlocution and posturing necessary to accomplish anything? Each one of them is like a double agent trying to figure out what kind of double agent the other one is."

"Degree of Passion: Unfortunately the passion in this relationship may be the tumultuous emotions of Scorpio when she feels betrayed or slighted. Ms. Scorpio is famous for her rage and vindictiveness. Do not mess with her, Monkey Man. You're likely to lose your tail. And another thing, Gemini, we know how much you love to mess around, but you have no idea the dark forces that will be unleashed if you mess around on this lady. At the very least, she will personally key your brand new Lexus. What happens after that will make that look good. No really."

"Degree of Friendship: Are you kidding? Friends don't key friends' cars."

"Gemini, whatever little tricks you have up your sleeve, you might find your arm in the alley back behind your house."

"Progression of Relationship: Gemini, do not mess around with her on any level. If you prize your kneecaps, get down on them and stay there. It is best to give this woman what she wants -- and act like you like it. By the way, there is no place for your Evil Twin in this relationship. And why is that? Because your Evil Twin is unbelievably naïve (I hate to be the one to tell you)."

"What happens when the Mad Scientist meets Dr. Frankenstein?"

"When It’s Over: Scorpio has a reputation for bad endings, like the 3rd act of a Verdi opera."

Apparently I really shouldn't date a gemini. And no one should date me. I should just wrap myself in caution tape next time I go out.