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.