Pork for Jesus

All I want to do right now is go home and crawl into my bed and sleep for 2 whole days. This is going to be one of those days where I try to keep myself from nodding off on the ride home from work. It's a really good thing my new car has side curtain airbags.

And, of course I have shit I have to do being that I'm a grown up and all. Responsibility is stupid.

I was at some sort of pig roast festival over the weekend. One of the vendors was very obviously Christian. All the crosses and motivational slogans on their get-up gave it away. I asked one of the teenagers with the group why they didn't call themselves "Pork for Jesus". She looked at me blankly and for the rest of the day I got "knowing" stares as I walked by. Who would want to go to heaven with a bunch of people who have no sense of humor?

Oh, God, It's Love!

Have you ever been away from someone for so long that you had a feeling of dread at the thought of seeing them again for the first time in months? (I kind of want to smack myself for saying things like that, considering all the bitching I have done on this blog about how my boyfriend left me. Boofuckinghoo.) Maybe it's more of a nervous feeling rather than a dreadful feeling. Yeah, that's it, that's what I'm going with. I'm nervous.

We talk on the phone everyday but I haven't seen his real live face in 3 whole months (besides a random picture message every now and again). I'm giddy with excitement, but at the same time I want to puke. Yes, it's been decided, I'm nervous.

At least I'll be getting laid. Since I was 16 and lost the big V, I don't think I have ever gone this long without sex. At least I know that I can, in fact, survive without it.

Blogging sucks when you're happy. I'm a much better writer when I'm pissed off and unhappy with myself or someone else. Besides I'm pretty sure this blog has been infiltrated by people I know. Yeah, you're lurking. You know who you are. I don't have a statcounter, but I know you're there. Either my old coke addictions have made me paranoid or (and stop me if you talk to God, too) I'm becoming schitzo.

I'm going to continue rambling for the sake of not working. Seriously, who wants to work when you could blog? Or who wants to blog when you could be out driving your new car around? But, who wants to drive their car around with gas prices like they are? And with gas prices the way they are who wants to just give up and go live in a cardboard box? Dumpster diving anyone?

Speaking of dumpster diving...Everyday on my ride home from work I take a left at a major intersection where there is a new "homeless" person standing everyday. It's never the same guy. Always, someone different, but they all seem to have the same sign. Coincidence? Hmmmmm. I want to roll my window down one day and ask them if they work for some temp company that was hired by the city to keep homeless people at that corner. Not that there aren't homeless people in Virginia Beach, but it's not like it is in a lot of cities I've been to. And, they mostly stay near the oceanfront. There is more fresh meat down there.

And, speaking of homeless people...if the reason they are deemed "homeless" is because they do not have a home and they only way to make them not homeless is by getting them in a home...why don't we just do that? Why do we put parameters and guidelines on what a homeowner should and shouldn't look like? Who are we to say who should and shouldn't own a home or rent one? We spend (we being the nonprofit community and the government) a lot of money on homeless people a year. If you divided the number of homeless people by the resources that are allotted to them you would come up with a number much greater than $20,000 a year. Seriously. Just put the fuckers in a home and don't worry about the smack they are doing. And, yes, I am aware of the people that want to be homeless and the mental health issues, but that is a minority of the homeless. Don't let anybody tell you differently.

If I don't write tomorrow. Have yourself a lovely little weekend. I'll probably be finding reasons to walk out of my house and look at my car. I think I walked out to my car 20 times last night in an effort to just touch her. Oh, god, it's love.

A Story, By Pictures

I live about 30 minutes away from Suffolk, VA. We don't have tornados in southeastern Virginia. Well, apparently, we do. I just can't imagine how scary it must have been. I've sat through numerous hurricanes, but I've never seen anything like this.

Here are pictures galore. You can enlarge them by clicking one them.









































What's this you say? Oh, it's just my brand new Toyota Yaris. No biggie.

I'm Pre-Approved, Bitches!!

Oh, yeah, that's right. I get to spend a whole whooping $12,000 on a used car. It may not seem like much and it really won't get me far, but I can't wait to have a new (to me) car. The Plymouth Breeze has lived up to its usefulness and I can't wait to have a car that I can drive down the street and it:

a) not make a loud squealing noise.
b) not have smoke coming out from under the hood.
c) not be loosing its power steering.
d) not have a dented up front hood.
e) not have a dented up trunk.
f) have a/c that works.
g) have heat that works.
i) not sputter.
j) have windows that roll down properly.
k) the list is pretty effing endless.

I'm so happy that now I'm squealing. Sweet!!!!!

Oh, and Blogger can suck it for not being able to post pictures. Fucker!

Whooohooooo I'm Rich!

In unrelated news my $600 check from the guvment hits my account tomorrow. How ever will I spend it? Oh, yeah, on my $500 deductible from wrecking my fucking car, that's how.

It's nice to get this check and everything, but what is it really going to do. Feed a family and let them hang on for another month? Fill your gas tank up 10 times (for me anyway)? Buy a new wardrobe from Wally World?

At least I don't have to put that $500 on a credit card. Hallelujah and Amen and stuff.

Happy Administrative Professional's Week

Last week I posted this post about why my job sucks and this morning I was in a pissy mood and felt like quiting because of this:



and then this happened:















Awwww, shucks guys, thanks...but Danka can still rot in its new Konicka Minolta hell.

You Can Only Go Up From Here

I asked blogger to give me a new question in my profile. This is what it gave me:
What would you name your ballet inspired by the sight of children leaping through a garden sprinkler?

R. Kelly

Tuesday morning on my way to work a big ass rock hit my windshield and put a chip in it. Then, at work I decide to check my credit report through an agency that I hadn't checked before, and low and behold there is an account in collection from 8 years ago for $308. On my ride home from work I rear end this kid who in turn rear ends the old lady in front of him. I get home and I open the mail and I owe $268 to the Commonwealth of Virginia because in 2004 my employer decided to take my taxes out of my checks, but not pay them. I would spend more money in lawyers fees fighting it than I would just paying it. To top it all off I dropped a can of diet coke on a large vase and it broke into tiny pieces on the floor and I stepped on one and had to dig it out of my foot.

The rest of the week has been all uphill from there.

The end.

I Dig It

For a lack of anything interesting or better to write about I am going to bore the pants (hopefully) off of you by telling you the things that I have been digging lately. I am not a creature of habit, so this stuff will all change tomorrow or next month or something.

1. Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum novels. I'm working on number 5 right now. I like how Evanovich's character, Stephanie, is funny and real AND a bounty hunter. It's my candy novella du jour.

2. American Cheese. There is something about an individually wrapped slice of cheese that just screams "CLASS."

3. Todd taking his stupid, ugly lip ring out. I know getting out of the military was important and now he no longer has anyone telling him how long his hair should be or what he can and can't attach to his face, but I hated that ugly thing and am glad it's gone.

4. Replacing french fries with, get this, salads.

5. Coffee. Cream and Splenda, please.

6. Not buying plastic bottles. Plastics make it possible, forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever...you get the idea.

7. Allergy shots. Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallleeeeeluuuuuaaaahhhhh.

8. Coco. The little puppy that could....shit everywhere. She looks like an Ewok, so I forgive her.

9. Not sweating the small stuff like I was a couple of weeks ago. But, if you actually correlate my craziness to to my menstrual cycle, the moon, and the fact that I fucked up my birth control you would totally understand where I was coming from. For reals!

10. Crocs. Yes, those ugly shoes with the holes. They are so comfortable and they don't make my feet sweat. I will NEVER walk, for exercise, in tennis shoes again. They have flipper flops that are the shit, too! They are kinda expensive, but I think you will find the price is worth the joy your feet will feel.

Assistant Hell

I am the creative director of assistant hell. I run this mother. I know what it's like for your boss to call you her "receptionist" on her voicemail. Bitch, I am NOT your receptionist. I know what it's like for every piece of god damned equipment in your office to break down including the COFFEE MAKER and fridge. I know what it's like for the same employee to come to you day in and day out asking the same question about the same shit you were just asked yesterday. I know what it's like for people "over" you to not know how to use any of the software that any job anywhere would require you to know how to use. I know what it's like to have never been trained, EVER, and then be asked to come up with a training manual for your position. I know what it's like to be hung up on by your largest client, because she doesn't like voice mail. I know what it's like to bleed all over files, because nothing gives a paper cut like a manila folder. I know what it's like to buy brand new shiny office equipment and have everyone bitch about it like you put in no effort what so ever in its purchase. I know what it's like to clean out a storage closet and then have someone just throw things in it willy nilly like you didn't just spend an eternity cleaning it only for them to turn around and tell you it's messy a month later. I know what it's like for some rat bastard to use the last of some office supply and then not tell me and then get pissed when it hasn't magically been replaced like I have nothing better to do all day than sit around keeping an inventory of office supplies. I know what it's like for vendors to treat you like shit and not fix what you asked. I know what it's like for the cleaning crew to steal your lunch for the next day when you are fucking dead broke. I just know what it's like to be your bitch.

I Do Have Regrets

My early twenties were not all that I think they should have been. A lot of shit I remember I don't want to remember and a lot of things I wish I could remember are lost. For a long time I was a stupid, vapid, blonde party girl. My mind was blank and the only care in the world I had was going to the bar only to end up with a hangover and an empty pocket in the morning. Not to mention the addictions and unplanned pregnancies. I was a fucking moron.

I didn't epically fail at life, I just wasn't focused on the important things. I did receive a bachelor's degree and managed to hold down a full time job, even with a hangover. I managed to not get in any trouble with the law, and I somehow managed to stay alive. I barely stumbled into the job I have now which, thankfully, has shaped me into the person I've become.

I feel like I'm finally in a good place in my life. I won't see Todd until my birthday which will make a total of 3 months since I've seen his face, but even all of this will be over soon. He should be in Chicago by December and depending on when I can get job I will be following. I may even get there before him.

I just don't want to look back at my life anymore with regret for the things I should have been doing and the things I should not have been doing. For a long time I did what everyone expected of me. I went to the bars my friends wanted to go to and I did the things my parents expected of me, but none of those things have made me happy or even defined who I was. I'm done with that life. I have learned that by standing up for myself and doing what is right for me I won't have to look back and regret. I only have to look over the horizon and see that, no matter what, tomorrow will come and know that the future has nothing but empty canvass.