Mmmmmm Mmmmmmmm Good

I'm not sure if I have mentioned this before or not, but I am a terrible cook. Terrible. I probably would have starved to death long ago were it not for my rice cooker. Because I rely so heavily on it though, I end up eating the same thing all the time. I have been eating some variation of red beans and rice every day for the last several months. I have gotten to the point where I just don't think I can stand it anymore. So yesterday, when I went to the store, I decided that I was going to find something else to put in with my rice. My sister found me a recipe for a butternut squash stew and it sounded great, so I was really excited about trying it. I was just going to alter it a little to make it a rice dish instead of a stew. Guess what? They didn't have any butternut squash at the store, but by then I was too committed to the idea to give up on it. So, today I am going to put; rice, canned pumpkin, tomatoes, chickpeas, raisins, and possibly peas into my rice cooker and see what happens. Wish me luck.

I had such a great idea for an image for this post. I wanted to use that scene where Spike is talking about crunching up some kind of cereal in his blood and then Giles says something about never being able to eat again. I couldn't find it though, so I had to use this one. 

Beautiful vs. Hot

I have seen multiple different photos and graphics, circulating around the internet, with a quote advising girls to "Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot." I do see what they're getting at but I, for one, don't think that's especially good advice and here's why. At least in my mind, beauty is a physical characteristic. You're either beautiful or you're not. Being "hot" on the other hand (and this is, again, in my mind. I can't say for sure that it means this to anyone else.) is about choices. I consider people to be hot based on their style, attitude, and behavior, not on any particular physical attributes. If you have a beautiful face, you are beautiful; if you don't then you're not. However, as far as I'm concerned, you could have a horrifying facial deformity and it would not necessarily prevent you from being hot, if you so choose. Some of the hottest people are not those who would generally be considered to be beautiful. There is just something about them as people, the way they act, the way they handle themselves, that makes them appealing. I guess my point here is; I would much rather be called hot than beautiful, because I feel like it would be a reflection on me as a whole person, not just on the appearance of my face.

Take Aeryn, for example. She has a fairly unique look that many people might not consider "beautiful." However, I doubt that anyone would dispute the fact that she is hot as all fuck. 

Whatever Works I Guess

Remember how I said that I bought season 8 of Supernatural? Well, my mom watched the first seven seasons with me, but didn't get to see any of season 8. So I thought it would be nice if we could watch it together, now that I own it. The problem is, our schedules don't exactly line up very well. It seems that one of us is only free when the other is not. So what I've been doing the last few days is, getting ready for work an hour early and going to my mom's house while she is on lunch. That way we can fit in one episode, almost, every day. I thought it would be a huge pain in the ass trying to get ready early, since I can never even seem to get ready on time for work, but it has been working out really well for me. This way I can actually make myself get ready because I have something to look forward to instead of just dreading going to work.

                                      This pretty much sums up what Supernatural does for me.

So.....I Have a Punching Bad Now

Yesterday I mentioned that my dad bought me a punching bag. Did you guys know that most of those things don't come pre-filled? Apparently, you can fill them with anything from sand, which seems like a good way to rip your ceiling down, to saw dust, which doesn't seem like it would be much better than hitting a pillow. So my dad decided that we should fill it with corn. Like the dried kind that you feed to chickens, not like corn on the cob or creamed corn. I think it's going to work really well aside form the fact that we only bought one bag which was not nearly enough. So, for the time being, I have a saggy punching bag hanging from my ceiling. On Wednesday, I'm going to go get some more corn. Then I am going to have the most fun!

It's the next best thing to having my very own puffy Xander. 

Dumbass Decisions

Here are some of the goofiest decisions I've made recently. I regret none of them!

1- Paid $35 for season eight of Supernatural, simply because I missed four episodes somewhere in the middle. I mean, obviously I will watch all of the ones I've already seen as well, but basically I paid $9 per episode. Worth it!

2- Bought two Victoria's Secret bras for $50 a piece and then decided that I don't like them. That's not even the stupid part though. The stupid part is why I don't like them. You see, I have been doing push-ups every day for months now and I have actually gotten to the point where you can, sort of, see the muscle tone in my chest. When my tits are all pushed up, you can't see it and it makes me feel fat.

3- Started wearing some of my jewelry 24 hours a day, even though it's super uncomfortable. I have never been the kind of person who wears jewelry when I'm at home, because it irritates the shit out of me. Then I realized recently that I have this image of myself that only looks like me on the rare occasion that I actually go someplace on my days off. So I was like "I'm going to try to look the way I want to, even when I'm just sitting around my house." So now I have a bracelet and a necklace permanently tied onto my body and I feel like I'm being suffocated all the time. It looks pretty cool though.

4- Bought a punching bag. Well, actually my dad bought it, but still. I have no particular reason for getting it. I just thought it would be fun to punch something. You know, without it resulting in permanent damage to anything.

I don't care! I'm glad I bought it! 

It's All Fiction

I often think that fiction is the only thing that makes reality bearable. This is pretty obviously true for some of us, you know, the ones who base their entire existence around TV shows, books, and movies. I think it may also be true, in a less obvious way, for the average person as well though. To be honest, I'm not sure that there is anyone in the world who actually lives in the world. We all create these stories about what our lives could be, or should be, or will be someday, and that is where we live. We are all constantly working toward some goal that we think will make everything better and fueling ourselves on the thought of what life will be like when we achieve that goal. If we do manage to achieve the goal we've been working toward, we just find that things still aren't the way we want them to be. Then we have to choose a new goal and create a new fictional world, in which the new goal has been achieved and everything is the way we want it to be. So my question is, what would life be without the little stories we tell ourselves to make it seem worthwhile? Would there even be any point to it at all?

On a semi-related note, I have started listening to Welcome to Night Vale and it is quite possibly the weirdest thing ever. I love it!

What an Honor

I think I have mentioned several times that, on most nights, I close by myself at work. I mean, there is always a manager and usually someone in utility, but I'm the only cashier. It didn't used to be a big deal; for the most part, I still had time to get everything done. Well, recently, they hired one clothes hanger who comes in and works 5:30 to close. This kind of fucks me up, because now I have to try to find time to hang clothes, check out customers, and get the floor cleaned up by myself. Now, I know that since I always work nights and she always works nights that our schedules are likely to coincide frequently. However, it seems like we end up working the same nights even more often than we should just by chance. It's a bit stressful but I've pretty much gotten used to it. So the other day, the manager who was closing with me comes up to me and says "So I've got some bad news for you." In my head, I'm going "Oh fuck. What now?" Then she says "We have a hanger coming in at 5:30" (Big sigh of relief) I say "Yeah, she works most nights that I work." The manager kind of smiles and says "You know what that means?" I say "That I have really bad luck?" She says "It means that they know they can trust you to get those racks put out." and smiles at me like it was a huge compliment. I'm sure she did mean it as a compliment, but here's the thing; what it really means is, they know that I'm dumb enough to rush around like lunatic and end up doing twice as much work as everyone else for the same pay, despite the fact that it benefits me in no way whatsoever. So yeah, I'm really honored that they know they can count of me to be a dumbass.

As You May Have Noticed.......

There was no blog yesterday. Sorry about that. Fucking Hughesnet! It wasn't as bad as it could have been though; it did let me watch Supernatural and S.H.I.E.L.D. I think I mentioned this before, but Hughesnet has this rule where anything you do online between 2am and 7am doesn't count. So I got up at 5 so I would have time to get both in before 7. It was either that or wait until tomorrow and, well, fuck that! Anyway, by the time 7 rolled around I decided that the best thing to do was to go back to sleep for an hour (which, by the way, is NEVER the best thing to do). When I got back up at 8, it was raining and therefore our internet was on strike. By the time the connection was back up, I was running late and didn't have time to write a blog.

They were some great episodes though.

*SPOILERS* Cas had sex! and then got stabbed :(

Thoughts on Love Part 7: Implications

Okay, so this isn't so much Thought on Love as it is Thoughts Inspired by Thoughts on Love, but oh well. Thinking about all of this has made me realize a few things about my life and myself.

1- I am capable of Love. What I may or may not be capable of is trusting anyone to love me back. This does make me feel a bit better, though it likely won't make my life any better in the long run.

2- If I am ever going to find anyone who genuinely cares about me, I am going to have to stop trying to prove that I am worthwhile and wait to see who will believe that I am anyway.

3- I have to learn to judge my own feelings by this same standard. I have a tendency to try to make my emotions make logical sense and that simply isn't how human emotions work. I need to remember that.

4- I feel infinitely better about things when I understand them, even if it makes no practical difference for me in real life. This is especially true of things about my own thought processes. I HATE not understanding exactly how I feel or why I feel that way. I think this was one of the last subjects that I still didn't have a good handle on, until now.

5- (I think) I am going to go back to school next fall. No matter how much I may hate so many aspects of college, Psychology really does fascinate me. I feel like maybe I actually could make some kind of difference in the world if I can manage to finish my degree.

Mayhap I will be a school counselor. It worked for Buffy.

Well, it sort of did. 

Thoughts on Love Part 6: Love Is a Word

When I spoke to my mom about my definition of Love, she didn't agree. She said "But that has nothing to do with the other person. I believe Love is a verb." Of course, at the time I couldn't think of a way to explain my position. So here it is now.

Love is a word. Like most words, it has many different meanings both by definition and by personal interpretations. It is an act (verb) and an emotion (noun). When I gave my definition of Love, I was referring to the noun form. Even when you think of Love as verb, it can mean completely different things to different people. I believe most people think of the verb form of love as meaning "To experience the emotion of love." What my mom was referring to is the way we behave toward the person we love. The problem with this definition is that, while it encourages us to treat the people we love in a more loving way, it is not an accurate gauge for our emotions. There are plenty of people in the world who can truly Love someone and still treat them like shit; simply because, for whatever reason, they are unable or unwilling to express their emotions in a healthy way. This does not indicate that they don't truly Love the person, simply that they are not conveying that emotion properly. Furthermore, there are plenty of people who are more than capable of acting lovingly toward people they have very little Love for. We all express Love differently. The way we act is a choice, the way we feel is not. What I was attempting to capture with my definition is the common ground we all share when it comes to Love; the one aspect of it that is the same for everyone. I don't know if I succeeded, but that was the goal.

There should be one more of these( should be) and then I'll stop. 

Thoughts on Love Part 5: The Crichton to My Aeryn

Sorry, I just couldn't get through this series of posts about Love without talking about my favorite fictional couple. Over the years, I have found so many characters that I have connected with, related to, rooted for, fallen for, and mourned over. I don't think I have ever  found a couple whose relationship I was more invested in than Crichton and Aeryn though. Normally, I just don't care all that much if Person A and Person B get together or not. Since we started season one of Farscape though, I have been dying to know if Crichton and Aeryn ever get their shit together. Obviously, one reason for this is that, as I mentioned before, Aeryn is basically me. If she can find Love then maybe there is hope for me yet. After I started thinking about my own definition of Love, I realized that the other reason I care so much what happens to them is that they fit so perfectly with what I believe Love to be. Throughout most of the series, Aeryn is cold, angry, lost, and emotionally-stunted (much like someone else we all know) but Crichton still always wants to be around her anyway. He never tries to change her; he never expects her to be anything other than what she is. The only thing he ever really demands of her is that she admit that she loves him back, and even when she won't he still wants to spend all of his time with her. The really beautiful part is that, over time, he does end up changing her. By accepting her and loving her for exactly what she is, he makes her better that she ever was before, without changing the root of who she is. I guess my point here is, I need my own Crichton.

Thoughts on Love Part 4: Perspective

Once I realized what it was about the way the animals behaved towards me that bothered me so much, I started to realize that this same issue has been my biggest problem in all of my relationships throughout my life. I have never really felt that I had anyone who I could count on to WANT to be around me no matter what. I have a few who I know would be there for me if I really needed them, but I hate feeling like it would be because they had to be. So I end up regarding most of my relationships as transactions. "As long as I have something to offer, they will want to be around me." I'm sure that in some cases this is all in my head, but I know for a fact that in some cases it is not. Back when I was at WVU, I used to do everything I possibly could to make myself useful to my group of friends, because I knew that it was what I did for them that made them want to spend time with me. Shockingly, I lost touch with them after I left school. Go figure. It's not that they were bad people or anything. None of them ever set out to use me. I just didn't have whatever it would have taken for them to want to be around me just for myself. Most of the time, I think even the people who care for me the most still wish that I could be something other than what I am. This is a large part of the reason I am always trying to tone down my emotions when I'm around other people. If they knew how I really felt, it would be more than they would want to deal with.

That's right, there are still more of these. I think I may have gone a bit overboard. 

Thoughts on Love Part 3: Inspiration

Just in case you were wondering what precipitated this idea about the true meaning of Love, it was Impala (my cat, not Dean's car). The thing is, I've been having a really hard time getting along with all of the animals lately. I find myself getting extremely frustrated with them all the time. Yet, despite the fact that he is probably more of a pain in the ass than any of the others, I never seem to get as mad at Impala as I do everyone else. I could never really figure out why I wasn't as bothered by his bad behavior as I was by the other animals' slightly less bad behavior. Then it suddenly hit me that it was because, pain in the ass or not, he actually acts like he loves me. I know this probably sounds stupid as hell to most people, but I feel like the others are always judging me, or demanding things of me. They are always wanting something from me, and they are always disappointed when I don't quite deliver. Impala makes me feel like he genuinely enjoys being around me, even when I'm in a pissy mood. Around here, someone is constantly barking at me, or tripping me, or yelling, or trying to grab something out of my hand, or slamming into me. Impala doesn't do that. He just stands near me (but not quite near enough to trip me) and when I look at him he puts his front feet up of the wall and stretches up toward my hand. It's fucking adorable and it makes me feel like he actually likes me as a person.

I pretty much get this look from everyone, all day. I interpret it as "Just look at yourself. Look at what you've become." 

Thoughts on Love Part 2: I've Got It!

Okay, so here it is. My newly-discovered, personal definition of Love.

Love is a genuine desire to be near someone, even when they are at their worst, without any judgements or expectations. That's it. If someone is being kind of shitty and you still want to be around them, without thinking less of them for it, or expecting anything from them in return, that's love. There are lots of other things that go along with Love. Like all the things I mentioned yesterday; putting their happiness on the same level as (and sometimes above) your own, getting enjoyment from seeing them happy, etc. But if you ask me, the difference between love and Love is just simply wanting to be with the other person no matter what. I'm not saying this necessarily has to be romantic love either. I think this could just as easily apply to a best friend or family member. It is that feeling of deep connection and comfort that makes you feel better when you are with a person, than you do when you are not with them.  

Look for part 3 tomorrow.

*I know I used a LOT of plural pronouns in place of singular pronouns, but I hate saying his/her, he/she, whatever. This is one instance where I will knowingly be grammatically incorrect.

Thoughts on Love Part 1: What Is the Meaning of This?

So, I had sort of an epiphany yesterday about the meaning of Love. Maybe it's really stupid, but it felt sort of profound to me. I have more to say about it than I feel anyone would care to read in one post, so I'm splitting it up into a series of posts.

I have often wondered, as I'm sure many people have, about what the true meaning of the word "Love" is. I think most would agree that there are a multitude of different types, and different levels, of love. But there is that one type that we are all always searching for. That's the kind that I could never really seem to define for myself. My mom always says that love is "putting the other person's happiness on the same level as your's." This may be a type of love but, as far as I'm concerned, this is the type that we should feel for all other beings, and the world around us. I don't believe that is nearly enough to satisfy the average person's need for Love. So I thought "Maybe it's putting the other person's happiness above your own." but I tend to do that for everyone as well (which I'm sure is super unhealthy). So, maybe it's getting happiness from their happiness? Not quite, that can happen with any random person, from time to time. So what is it then? Well, I think I've finally figured that out (at least for myself). And I'm going to tell you tomorrow.

Just to Reiterate

My brain is such an asshole! Last night, I set three clocks! THREE! And they still didn't wake me up! I set my CD player alarm for 6:30, my brand new alarm clock for 6:35, and my alarm on my phone for 6:40. I thought "There's no way I can sleep through all that." Wrong! I didn't wake up until 7:30, when my dad came in and shook my foot. By then all the clocks had given up, except my phone which was till desperately buzzing away under my pillow. Poor little bastard tried so hard; I felt kind of sorry for him. How is this physically possible? More importantly, how am I ever going to get my shit together if I can't even manage to wake up in the mornings?

Rock Bottom

Lately I have been in a just fucking terrible mood. By that I mean that I have been in a terrible mood that has been getting progressively worse over the last several months. I have not wanted to do anything, or see anyone, or even think about anything, and I have been absolutely pissed about it! I have been sleeping too much, doing too little, and generally making poor decisions. Yesterday, I overslept by three hours, got no housework done, didn't go grocery shopping, bought stuff online that I couldn't afford, and then actually skipped working out for the first time in at least a year. I say enough! I am going to get my shit together if it fucking kills me!

The Good Old Days

I think I have mentioned here before how I tend to have an overly romanticized vision on my own past. Everything that has ever happened to me looks infinitely better in retrospect than it did at the time that it happened. Furthermore, it always looks better than whatever is currently happening in my life. I always find myself thinking that I just didn't appreciate how good I had it back then. The problem is, when I find myself looking back longingly on my previous experiences, how do I ever know how accurate my ideas about them are? How do I know if I should try to get back to that point or not? How do I ever know if things were really better then, or if I'm just forgetting all the bad stuff?

Introvert-ish

I've always heard that people are basically born either introverts or extroverts, that it's just something that's built right into each of our personalities. I'm not entirely sure that's always the case. I think there may be natural introverts and extroverts, and manufactured introverts and extroverts. I, for one, am definitely an introvert. The very thought of having to deal with people is, at times, just too much for me to handle. However, I think the avoidance of contact with other humans is a learned behavior for me.

There are three reasons I believe this; 1-I have heard that introverts enjoy being alone. I do not. I just don't happen to enjoy being with people either. 2- Supposedly, introverts feel drained after any type of social interaction. I feel drained after the WRONG type of social interaction. If I actually spend time around people I like, I feel better afterwards. 3- I do not believe that I was born with an aversion to social interaction. When I was a kid, I used to love talking to people. I think it was when I went to school and realized that I was not like the other kids that I began to pull back from them.

I don't know that this information will be of any help to me, in my life. It's just something I've been thinking about.

That's What I Call a Good Day

I finally got to watch the season premier of Supernatural yesterday and it was amazing! I love that show more than anyone should ever love a work of fiction. I'm not going to say anything else about it; you should just watch it, because it looks like this season is going to be great. You know, just like the other 8 seasons were. I also watched the new episode of S.H.I.E.L.D. I think it's going to be really good too. I've found that, at least in my opinion, Joss Whedon shows tend to start out good and then get to be fantastic later on. This is of course with the exception of Firefly, which started out fantastic and then got cancelled! Fox will never be forgiven for this outrage! Not that I'm bitter about it or anything. Then last night we watched the most ridiculous and hilarious episode of Farscape. I am now thoroughly convinced that everyone who was involved with that show was stoned ALL THE TIME. In this episode, Crichton and Chiana got stuck in a video game which fed off of Crichton's memories and featured Zhaan as a fat guy who milked himself, and Aeryn as a horny princess who talked like the mother from The Waterboy. Also, there is a truly weird scene, with an elevator who wishes he could go sideways, that had me cracking up.

I Almost Forgot

If you're wondering why this post is so late, it's because Hughsnet is terrible! Anyway, I just realized that I almost forgot to tell you all what happened with that guy I was talking to from Vegan Passions. Remember, first I said he was kind of a dick? Then I said maybe he wasn't so bad? Well, I was right the first time.

Any of you who have ever exchanged emails with me probably know that sometimes I don't get back to you right away. In fact, sometimes it take me for-fucking-ever to return emails. It's nothing personal; sometimes I get busy, sometimes my internet sucks, sometimes I actually forget, mostly I just get stressed out. I don't know why returning emails stresses me out, but it does. Anyway, apparently this guy just could not handle that. I took two days to write back to him and he wrote me an exceptionally snotty email "thanking" me for wasting his time. So yeah, that was fun.

It turns out I should have used this picture when I talked about him before. Because Ruby was way more evil than Meg. 

I Missed It!

I don't know if you guys are aware or not, but last night was the new episode of Supernatural, and I didn't get to watch it because I had to work! I have been waiting all this time to find out what happens to Sam, Dean, and Cas and now everyone else knows and I don't! Arrrrgh! It was also a new episode of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. which I have started watching because it's a Joss Whedon show and Joss Whedon is amazing. You know, it's a damn good thing that most of the networks now post their shows online after they air, because otherwise Goodwill would have been cashierless last night. The shitty thing is that we have Hughsnet so I have to wait until my day off and go watch them at my mom's house! Arrrrgh again! You know, I used to avoid watching TV altogether because I didn't want to be one of those people who plans their life around when their show is one. Then I realized that I don't have a life anyway, so what the fuck am I planning? The way I see it, since I've got nothing else going on anyway, I might as well let myself slip into a fantasy world as often as possible. However, if I ever EVER start watching reality shows, I ask that someone please humanely euthanize me.

Luxan Hyper-Rage

There was this one episode of Farscape that we watched recently during which D'Argo was so pissed off at the general state of his life that he got into a fight with Crichton and ended up putting him into a coma. Then he throws his Qualta blade down into the bowels of the ship and they all have to go look for it. It's a whole big thing. Anyway, most people would probably think that his behavior was completely ridiculous and out-of-line. However, I know what it's like to have your whole life go to shit and feel like there's absolutely nothing you can to about it and, frankly, I think it's a bit of a miracle that I haven't put anyone into a coma yet. Instead I just yell a lot and sometimes punch various structures when no one is looking.

This image is from Crichton's crazy, cartoon, coma-dream. It's a weird show. 

My Brain Is an Asshole

I swear there is some little piece of my brain that thinks the most fun thing in the world is to sabotage me, in every possible way. Yesterday was my day off, and I had all these things I was planning to get done. As usual, my plans didn't quite pan out. I thought "That's okay. I'll just get up early tomorrow and do it." So I set my clock for 6:00. I woke up at 8:56, which is about two hours later than I get up when I don't have shit-tons of housework to do. Fucking awesome! Thanks brain!

There's a chance it may be Scorpius. 

My People!

For anyone who doesn't know, I have a tattoo that takes up a large part of my forearm. It has pictures of various animals and says "Vegan" underneath. People at work ask me about it all the time. Usually they say "What does your tattoo say?" or "Can I see your tattoo?" When they realize what it says they either say something like "What does veg-un mean?", make a bad joke, or just look all awkward and say "I like it." obviously hoping that will be the end of the conversation.

So last night, this guy comes up to check out with four kids; his wife was still walking around in the store somewhere. As I'm ringing up their stuff, the guys says to the kids "Look at the lady's tattoo." I turned my arm so the kids could see it, thinking he just wanted them to see the pictures of the animals. Then he asks them "Do you know what that says?" One of the kids, who was probably six or seven says "Vegan". I was totally shocked. Not only did this little kid know how to pronounce it, but he said it like he knew exactly what it meant. Then the guy tells me that he and his wife have been vegetarian for years and that none of the kids have ever had meat. YES! They do exist! 

I'm Under Attack

Yesterday, as I was on my way to work, I had the windows down, and the radio blasting, and was just trying desperately to ignore the fact that I was running late for work, and the fact that I didn't want to be going in the first place. Suddenly, I feel something tickling the side of my neck. I didn't really think anything of it, a fallen hair? a fly who had come in through the window? my imagination? So I reach up to brush whatever it is off, and I feel it fall down onto my chest. Okay, so not my imagination, too heavy to be a hair, flies don't usually fall. I look down and there, sitting on chest, just staring at me is this angry looking spider. At first I thought "I'll just pick him up and toss him back out the window, that he apparently just came swinging in through." However 1-I couldn't catch him, 2-The harder I tried to catch him, the angrier he got and the more concerned I became that he might bite me, and 3- I wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't just land in the road and get run over. As I'm looking for a good place to pull over where I can quickly get him out of my car, get back on the road, and maybe maybe make it to work on time, he continues to run all over my body. At one point, I lost track of him for a second and then realized that he was hiding under the edge of my leg. I finally find a good place to pull over, push myself up so I'm sort of hovering above him and try to quickly pick him up and throw him out. He was too fast for me. He dove onto the floor before I could grab him. So I picked up a piece of paper off the floor and tried to flick him out. Apparently in the two seconds between when he hit the floor and when I picked up the paper, he had managed to tie himself down, because when I flicked him out he just bounced right back in. It took me four tries to finally get him to stay out.

Okay, so he looked nothing like the Racnoss and he was actually kind of cute, but that doesn't negate the fact that he was a talented and dedicated little warrior.

P.S. I made it to work with 7 seconds to spare.

Well, that Makes 300

I've been trying to use every hundredth post as sort of a recap of everything that has happened in my life since the last hundredth post. Unfortunately, very little has happened since post number 200. So, I decided to sort of look back on my life as a whole. Probably a big, big, fucking mistake. But whatever.

Anyway, if I look back on any particular period in my life, I find that I am a completely different person than I was during any other time in my life. If I think about who I was just a couple of years ago, I barely even recognize myself. I look different, act different, feel different. I have different interests, different goals, different desires. Here's the funny thing though, if I look back on myself from ten years ago, I'm nothing like I was two years ago. However, I'm not sure I'm any further from who I am now. Is it really possible for someone to become an entirely different person every couple of years without ever actually getting any closer to being the person they want to be? It seems the answer is yes. I just keep changing and hoping that someday I'll change into something better, but it seems like the only parts of me that stay the same are the parts that continually fuck me over in my life. Happy 300th post! 

Why Don't You Just Let Us Carry It?

Yesterday, my dad and I had to go pick up a couch that my grandma had bought. It was one of the ones that has recliners built in to it. These two guys were carrying it out of the store for us; and to be fair the thing was fairly heavy, but holy fuck did these guy complain a lot. At one point, one of the guys asked my dad if he could pull the trailer closer because "This thing is really heavy!" My dad, who gets a real kick out of screwing with guys like this, says "Oh! Is it?" The guy replies "Just imagine, two recliners and a couch all at once!" I had a really hard time not laughing at the guy. "Picture if you will....TWO recliners!" HAH! I restrained myself though. My dad, not so much.

Anyway, after we left, my dad said something to the effect of "If I was doing that job, I would never complain to the customers about how heavy something was." Well, I have done that job, and I can tell you that I have never complained to the customers, or anyone else for that matter, about how heavy something was. I just don't do that. Unless it's actually too heavy for me to physically be able to pick it up, I will pretend that it's not heavy. Even if I feel like I'm going to fall over trying to carry it, I will act like it's no big deal. Apparently, this is not a common trait.

"Two recliners" 

Unnecessary Things

I'm not one for buying lots of unnecessary stuff. I mean, we have people who come into Goodwill multiple times a week and buy carts full of knickknacks. I really don't buy very much shit that I don't need. I spend the majority of my money on food for myself, and food for the animals, and things like hand-soap, conditioner, toothpaste etc. If I do buy clothes, I almost invariably buy them at Goodwill.

All that being said. Every once in a while I find something that I just WANT. Many times it's something that I can't even explain exactly why it is that I want it; something that doesn't seem like something I would like. When this happens, these things tend to be expensive. I mean expensive for me, not expensive for most people, people who are okay with paying retail prices for clothes, let alone for people who buy designer names. I always try to talk myself out of these things. I say "No, you don't need that. Why do you even want it? It's not that great. It's too expensive, you can't afford it." None of these are very effective. The part of my brain that desires random things seems to be completely impervious to logic. It just sticks its fingers in its ears and yells "WANT!"

On a completely unrelated note. There is this jacket......... in Lithuania.....

But I Don't Want to!

Do you ever have days when you just simply do not feel capable of dealing with other humans? Well I do. Yesterday was one of those days. I had a three day weekend, and I had all this shit that I wanted to get done. Well, I didn't do it Saturday because we went to the Palace of Gold; I didn't do it Sunday because I overslept, and then I did my tarot cards, and then I don't really know what happened. The point is, nothing got accomplished. So yesterday I was all prepared to spend the entire day catching up on laundry and dishes and whatever else that needed to be done; and I was okay with this, pleased about it even. Then (duhn! duhn! duhn!) I realized I was out of pig food and spent pretty much the entire rest of the day trying to figure out how I could possibly acquire some without having to leave the house and interact with society. Needless to say, I didn't come up with anything. So I spent a few more hours flipping out about it and then at 7:00 I finally managed to force myself out of the house, looking just lovely too. I was wearing just enough makeup to make me look human and a huge hoodie because "it was cold" but really because I just couldn't handle to idea of putting on a bra. I made it to Tractor Supply about fifteen minutes before they closed and sprinted through the store like a fucking lunatic, because I hate it when people go into stores right at closing. Some days, acting like a person is just too much for me. You know?