The Blog has moved!!!
I am now over at http://www.smashleybug.com
The website is no where near finished. I'm still working on tons of stuff. I just can't post here any longer. The aggravation is slowly killing me.
So please visit me at http://www.smashleybug.com as this blog will no longer be updated.
Peace out, blogger. On to bigger and better things.
Everyone has had "one of those days" before. But this, my friends! This has been one of those weeks.
You know, the not fun kind. The kind where you do not under any circumstances want to get out of bed so you end up rolling your tired self onto the hardwood floor, hoping the freezing cold surface beneath you will force you to stand up and go brush your teeth. That kind of week.
There are two contributing factors to being so tired that I have to let my face hit the floor before my feet.
1 - There is no noise in my new house.
2 - I do not know how to behave like a normal human being.
Allow me to explain.
1 - When I say no noise, I mean no noise. It's always peaceful and quiet which is GREAT. I get so much stuff done! And no one is bugging me!
But, when I say no noise, I mean no noise. I have no speakers for my computer and there is NO TELEVISION IN THE NEW HOUSE. (I knew this prior to moving in, the house rules so much that it's still worth it.)
So the peace and quiet is great, until it's bedtime. I need noise (preferably TV but at the very least, a radio) to fall asleep AND to stay asleep. So even after I bludgeon myself over the head multiple times and finally fall asleep, I wake up every 10 minutes because it is TOO FUCKING QUIET.
2 - I really, really don't know what the shit is wrong with me. It's actually pretty hilarious if I take a step back and look at it.
I keep forgetting to bring my shampoo and conditioner home from my Mom's house (which is bad news because she uses my bath products and she uses them up very quickly) so I've been using travel sizes that I had. I finally ran out so I was supposed to go get some last night, along with milk (to make my chai drink, because I have the concentrate but no milk to mix it with) and perhaps some type of food.
I went to the store and bought hangers, razors, shampoo, and a couple of travel mugs for bringing drinks to work. Did I need hangers, razors, and mugs? Sure. Were they urgent necessities? No, no they were not. Did I need conditioner, milk, and some kinda food? Yes. Did I get them? NO. NO I DID NOT GET THE ONLY FREAKING THINGS I NEEDED FROM THE STORE.
So this morning, after deciding that "Yes, I have to go to work" and "Shit! I have to shower like, now!", I jumped up, ran to the shower, washed my hair with my brand new shampoo and realized... I forgot to buy conditioner.
If any of you were wondering exactly what it feels like to shampoo your hair and not put any conditioner in it, I can tell you. It feels sort of like straw, only straw with knots and split ends. Straw you can't even brush. The kind of straw that is so dry, it bursts into flames after being in direct sunlight for 4.3 seconds.
So I saturated my head post-shower with some leave-in conditioner stuff I had lying around. I was able to brush it, but my hair now looks like I never even washed it. Nice and greasy, only now it smells nice.
I frantically get dressed and realize that I'm actually kind of early. Then I think "Hey! I have chai mix! Awesome! I can bring chai to work!" I open the refrigerator and don't see any milk… because I suck and forgot to buy it. All I see is the chai mix, which is taunting me. It's taunting me because (being useless without the milk) the delicious flavor is so close, yet so unattainable. I can see the creamy goodness, I just can't partake of the creamy goodness. Fuck. No chai for me this morning.
Oh well! I'll just get a breakfast bar... which I also did not buy at the store last night. Double fuck.
And this is all because I go to the store and see shiny things and think "Oh! I need that right now!" when in reality I probably won't take it out of the package ever. Not even once. I ALWAYS make a list when I have to go to the grocery store for this very reason, but this time it felt silly. A list of four things? Shampoo, conditioner, milk, food. Only an asshole would need to make a list of four things. Yeah... that asshole is me. (And really people, who buys shampoo but forgets the conditioner?)
In short, I have forgotten how to act like a grown-up and am now the equivalent of a toddler with her own house and no conditioner.
Ok no seriously people. I don't think you quite understand the urgency that is going on right now.
I'm dying. Like, right now. Dying. Dead-ness.
I am in complete and total hate with Blogger right now.
I need to move my blog somewhere else.
I cannot spend a single dime on it, which means there will be no purchasing of the webspace involved.
Any suggestions? Please? Because I think I might die if I can't blog.
About 2.374 seconds ago, I was quietly freaking out.
You see, I'm having a couple of friends help me move furniture to my new house tonight.
I talked to my new landlord/roommate today and he said I had to be there by 6:30pm because he has a date that he has to leave for at 7:00pm.
I usually get out of work at 5:30 and I get home at 6:00. The house is about 15 mins away from my house. So that would give my two friends only 15 minutes to move 3 pieces of furniture and a few other misc. things that have yet to be cleared off or taken apart.
Yeah.
Plus, for the past few days I haven't been able to sit at my normal desk because they painted that area. It made me light headed and head-achey. Because I'm the receptionist, if they move me from that area I pretty much have nothing to do. I'm useless. I can't answer the phones or greet visitors, and there isn't much use for me back in the real office with the real grown-up workers.
So right now, I'm sitting in a cube with a really awesome co-worker on a laptop, and I'm serving no purpose whatsoever. I was quietly freaking out because I was sitting here doing NOTHING while a TON of stuff needed to be finished at home. I didn't want to outright ask to go home because I was sick a few days a couple weeks ago and I hate not working.
So, because my Boss is the best man to ever exist as a boss ever in the universe (he doesn't even know about this blog, so I'm not even sucking up. He's just that cool.) he just called me and told me to leave at 3:00.
Too bad you can't see the huge smile on my face right now. Just sayin'. (credit: RSM)
{{Side Note: You know, my life has been so steady for so long now, and that's never happened before. I find myself saying "This isn't my life." on a regular basis. I'm just so happy that my hard work is paying off, and that I'm starting to attain the things I've wanted for so long. It's a really good feeling when you prepare for the worst, hope for the best, but reality lands somewhere in the middle. I'm just super content with my life right now. A little nervous, but really really happy.}}
Things about me that you may not know:
I am absolutely horrible with stress. The slightest bit of deviation from normal routine sends me into a complete and total tailspin.
Responsibility does the same thing. If anyone is counting on me for even the tiniest little thing, I flip out. (Really people, you should have noticed this yesterday, with the great Expense Report Induced Meltdown 2k6 edition.)
I get sick ALL THE TIME. I'd say I'm healthy for about 10% of the time. The other 90%, I'm ill. I barf A LOT. I'm nauseous every morning when I wake up, and also right before I go to bed at night. Certain smells (chicken soup) make me gag. I'm always tired, generally moody, achey, and I cry a lot. I also lose my voice a lot, and my throat hurts pretty often. I've been like this since I was born.
I am an absolute animal lover. I watch that Animal Cops show way too often. I like to torture myself, apparently.
I'm afraid of dogs. This is a recent development. 2 years ago, I watched my friend Ivette's Chow-Chow rip my friend Rachel's leg apart.
I know a stupid amount about reproductive and sexual health. Got a question? Feel free to email me (PuttanaEva at gmail dot com). It's just something I've always been interested in.
People always try to lie to me to seem smarter than I am. Most of the time they're lying about something I know something about, so I know they're lying. I don't say anything because I feel like maybe they need to feel better than someone. It only bothers me sometimes.
That being said, I have a weird complex that people who went to college feel like they're better than me simply because they went and I didn't. Because of this, I spend most of my free time learning about anything and everything I can. I always ask 3298237423 gazillion questions. I'm sure it gets annoying. If I haven't learned (and retained) 3 or 4 new things every single day, I feel the day wasn't productive.
This is boring, no? If you'd like me to elaborate on anything, feel free to email me.
It's freezing in here. The hand I use to move the mouse is freezing cold. The other hand is toasty because I've been sitting on it for the past hour. You know, while I stare at receipts and drool.
It's freezing in here. Oh, I said that already?
I wish there were bagels left from the bagel breakfast this morning but there aren't. There are three tubs of delicious veggie cream cheese left over, but no bagels. I missed the bagel breakfast because of receipts.
I had a dream last night that I went somewhere with Carlton and Tom and Matt Boehm. We were in a bad neighborhood standing outside of some guy's house. Guy was a friend of Carlton's and a friend of Matt's. We were all standing outside when Guy lets his vicious dog out of the house. It proceeds to be a vicious dog and growl at me. Then it bites my arm. I am telling Guy to get his dog off of me. Everyone is standing around looking at me. Guy is laughing at me. I look at Carlton and he shrugs, smiles, and tells me "There's nothin I can do, hun." in that way he does. No one else will look at me. Think it means something?
I have to go to the bathroom.
I really have to go to the bathroom.
I'm going to finish this post, then go to bathroom.
I think I'm finished with this post.
I find that when I ask a follow-up question, I prefer the word "yes" to the word "sure" as an answer.
Example 1:
"Can you help me move on Wednesday?"
"Sure."
This exchange is completely fine. It means, yes, I can help you. I'm sure of it!
Example 2:
"Can you still help me move on Wednesday?"
"Sure"
I find this exchange to be slightly unnerving. It makes it sound like this is the first time the person is hearing the question. In this particular situation, the word "sure" seems to say "By sure I mean I have no recollection of what you're talking about, but I'll pretend I do. Then, when you call me 40 times tomorrow to ask where the hell I am, I won't answer. Then later we'll pretend it's your fault."
Do you think maybe I think things over a teeeny eeeny weeeny bit too much?
Alright, homies.
I'm having a problem. I'm not positive as to whether or not my laptop is broken or not. It's quite possible it's just the power supply that's effed.
(When plugged in, the power supply has a light that lights up. The light still lights up, however the power supply used to get really warm when plugged in, and now it doesn't get that warm at all. A little, but not nearly like what it used to. So perhaps that's the problem?)
I can rescue everything off of the computer if it IS screwed, however, because I have friends. Good ones. You see, ATO is not only my only consistent commenter, he's also a genius AND an awesome conversationalist. Oh yeah, and he's willing to ghetto rig my computer so I can transfer all of the important data to my working desktop.
Ok, here comes the dilemma part. If the laptop is dead, I want to replace it. I like having a portable computer. PLUS the new house has wireless so it would be nice to be able to use the computer in a place other than my bedroom.
I just need your help because I know absolutely nothing about laptops really, and I have no idea what kind I should get.
I have limited funds to spend right now. I don't, however, want to sacrifice quality and buy a shitty computer because it costs less.
Can anyone out there in Internetlandworld recommend a nice, middle-of-the-road laptop, well-priced laptop? I don't have a price range. I'm just looking for something well-rounded and decent. I'll wait and save up more funds if necessary.
So, people. Nice, middle-of-the-road, nothing special, well-rounded laptop that isn't going to break the bank but isn't going to fall apart tomorrow?
Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?
It amazes me that this is something that still exists today. Shows how far we've come as a society, eh?
I'm just going to paste an excerpt from the ALA website, because they explain it much better than I can:
"Banned Books Week: Celebrating the Freedom to Read is observed during the last week of September each year. Observed since 1982, the annual event reminds Americans not to take this precious democratic freedom for granted.
Banned Books Week (BBW) celebrates the freedom to choose or the freedom to express one’s opinion even if that opinion might be considered unorthodox or unpopular and stresses the importance of ensuring the availability of those unorthodox or unpopular viewpoints to all who wish to read them. After all, intellectual freedom can exist only where these two essential conditions are met."
"Each year, the American Library Association (ALA) is asked why the week is called “Banned Books Week” instead of “Challenged Books Week,” since the majority of the books featured during the week are not banned, but “merely” challenged. There are two reasons. One, ALA does not “own” the name Banned Books Week, but is just one of several cosponsors of BBW; therefore, ALA cannot change the name without all the cosponsors agreeing to a change. Two, none want to do so, primarily because a challenge is an attempt to ban or restrict materials, based upon the objections of a person or group. A successful challenge would result in materials being banned or restricted.
Although they were the targets of attempted bannings, most of the books featured during BBW were not banned, thanks to the efforts of librarians to maintain them in their collections. (See also Censorship and Challenges and Notable First Amendment Cases.) Imagine how many more books might be challenged—and possibly banned or restricted—if librarians, teachers, and booksellers across the country did not use Banned Books Week each year to teach the importance of our First Amendment rights and the power of literature, and to draw attention to the danger that exists when restraints are imposed on the availability of information in a free society."
The 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990–2000 (I've bolded the ones I've read): Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz Daddy's Roommate by Michael Willhoite I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (I didn't read the whole thing. Woops!) Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling Forever by Judy Blume Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger The Giver by Lois Lowry It's Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck The Color Purple by Alice Walker Sex by Madonna Earth's Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle Go Ask Alice by Anonymous Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard The Witches by Roald Dahl The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry The Goats by Brock Cole Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane Blubber by Judy Blume Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier Final Exit by Derek Humphry The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison What's Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee Beloved by Toni Morrison The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton The Pigman by Paul Zindel Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard Deenie by Judy Blume Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein Brave New World by Aldous Huxley Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice) Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole Cujo by Stephen King James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy Ordinary People by Judith Guest American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis What's Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume Crazy Lady by Jane Conly Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher Fade by Robert Cormier Guess What? by Mem Fox The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut Lord of the Flies by William Golding Native Son by Richard Wright Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women's Fantasies by Nancy Friday Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen Jack by A.M. Homes Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle Carrie by Stephen King Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge Family Secrets by Norma Klein Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole The Dead Zone by Stephen King The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison Always Running by Luis Rodriguez Private Parts by Howard Stern Where's Waldo? by Martin Hanford Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett Running Loose by Chris Crutcher Sex Education by Jenny Davis The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier I plan on reading every single book on that list. I'm rebellious like that. I hope that everyone at least visits the website. The button above is linked, as well as two images in my sidebar. (Coming soon because Blogger sucks asshole. For now just use the plain old ugly text link. Thanks!) Once you're at the website, be sure to click on the link to the left that says "Book Burning". (I KNOW! That still goes on today, too. Amazing, isn't it?)
There are about 70 bo-jillion things going on in my brain today, give or take a couple. It's making me go a little... well... completely fucking batshit insane. I'm starting to feel like the guy who walks around in front of WaWa* wearing an orange traffic safety vest, flicking an imaginary cigarrette and talking to himself about how the government killed God and now we're all just hurtling through the atmosphere with reckless abandon. Only, when he says it, it sounds something like "huminahooyeah GOD *cough*cough*yeah CHAOS huhuh THEGOVERMENT yesyupincoherentmumbles YEAH blahblah WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!" So yeah. I'm starting to feel like that guy, only minus the orange traffic safety vest. Orange just isn't my color.
I really hate it when this happens because it makes it nearly impossible for me to accomplish anything. Thinking about all of my problems at once makes it difficult to focus on one long enough to find a solution. Finding an immediate solution to my problems is a big deal with me. I can't stand when people let their problems just pile up and they expect them to just vanish without actively trying to solve the problem. And seriously? My biggest pet peeve is when people complain about a problem they haven't even attempted to solve.
So here you go, since I know you're all curious. (Shut up, you are.) A peek into what my brain looks like today:
There were school busses everywhere on my way to work this morning. There weren't school busses before. School started while ago, so why am I just seeing school busses now? They made me late for work this morning with all of their "Wah we're school busses and we pick up little elementary school kids and you have to stop in both directions until the little 6 year old slowly makes their way out of the house, dramatically dragging their backpack on the ground and whining that it's too early, and takes an hour to decide where in the hell he's going to sit because everyone is telling him "this seat is saved." Stupid busses. Then when they're done sitting on the side of the road for 3 hours holding up traffic, they drive like maniacs. Tailgating everyone and taking turns at 50 miles an hour, not stopping their vehicle until it is literally 2 centimeters from your bumper and you are positive there's no way they're going to stop in time and that a bus full of 6 year olds will ulitmately lead to your demise. Damn school busses. (Technically "busses" can be spelled two ways. Buses and Busses. I REFUSE to spell it as 'buses'. My brain tells me the way to pronounce that word is 'byooses'. Not cool! Busses is technically correct as well, however used much less often due to busses also being the plural of 'buss' which is apparently some word in some dialect of something. I'm still using it. It's technically correct and when I look at it my brain says "Ah yes, busses. That's right.")
I wonder if anyone is going to email me to say that I'm a heartless bitch because kids need busses to get to school, and by complaining about it I'm sending the message that not only do I hate busses, but I hate bus drivers and 6 year olds and I'm the reason God is trying to destroy the world with Natural Diasters and AIDS.
It's cold out. I'm sick of hearing people on the radio say that the weather is going to be "just beautiful" and then they tell me the high for day is going to be 65 degrees (which for me, translates to about 23 below freezing.) I love fall, I really do. I'm just really not ready for it yet.
I get to start wearing brown and burgundy. And tights! And boots! And hats! Maybe I am ready for it.
Wait, no. No I'm not. Or maybe... no. Not yet.
I'm moving out of my house in one week. I still don't have a single thing packed. I can't imagine what it must be like to move a whole house full of stuff. I only have a room to move but I'm still going insane. I'm scared of moving. What if it sucks? What if the house was only clean because I was coming to look at it and it's really dirty all the time? What if the bathroom is always really dirty? What if Guy That I Haven't Met Yet Who Lives In The Basement starts stealing my underoos out of the dryer and suddenly I find that he's been wearing them and pretending to be me?? What if I go completely broke? God I hate not having enough money.
Money. Money. Money. I hate money, I hate thinking about money but it's really all I ever think about, and I hate that I'm always worried about it. I need a second job but no one will hire someone to start an evening shift at 6:00pm. I need an extra source of income. I'm going to be completely broke after a month of living on my own, I know it. Even though I budgeted everything out, I know I'm going to go broke and end up living in a box. Imaginary cigarette guy and I will become best buddies, and I'll start to really believe that the goverment killed God. I will totally lose my mind and I'll be homeless and unable to shower so not only will I be crazy but I'll be crazy AND smelly. People will laugh, only they'll laugh from really far away because I'm so stinky. I won't be able to beg for change because no one will come near me.
My office is totally freezing and my hands are going sort of numb. Skin is also very dry. Not cool. Oh hey look! Lotion! I forgot about the lotion I keep on my desk for this exact thing. Neat.
This lotion smells exceptionally wonderful. Mmm.
I get to see J tonight! Oh man I'm excited! It's been like, 8 days since we've hung out. That's almost a record. I think the longest I've gone without seeing him in the past 5 years has been 2 1/2 or 3 weeks. Damn we've been buds for 5 years! J is the best. Oh and the pup!! I get to see my puppy!! And my comfy blanket is at J's house. Sweet!! Blanket weather!!
Shit, I have to start working on J's quilt.
Here is a sketch. A blurry, small picture of a sketch. The sketch took exactly 1 minute and 20 seconds. I timed it.
It says Jeep because I bought Jeep fabric. He has a Jeep which he is in love with. I should really start making that quilt ASAP. Really. It's not going to be easy, I've never made a quilt before. Guess what?
Making quilts is expensive!!! Unless you use a whole bunch of scrap material you have lying around... hey!!! I can use fleece from old fleece blankets I have!!! Unnecessary amount of exclamation points!
</insanity>
Ok guys. That's all. There is so much more going on in there, but I'll spare you.
*WaWa, for those of you who don't know, is a convenience store. It's sort of like 7-11, only cooler and bigger. And cooler.
And there were two other crazy cats in the house. I only got a picture of one of them:
The cats really are crazy. However, not nearly as crazy as me.
I'm about to show ya'll the ugliest picture of me EVER.
I want to explain that picture but there really is no explanation. I went outside at night with my hood on, came back inside, and Andrew thought I looked funny. So I made him take a picture.
Oh!
We also ate spoonfuls of peanut butter.
We're a dangerous bunch, Andrew and I. Renegades, living on the edge. Stop laughing!
(Can you tell I'm suffering from a serious lack of blogging material?)
It's an entirely useless habit. I mean, I understand that it's just giving me something to focus my eyes on while I'm listening to someone speak, but wouldn't it be slightly more useful if I could at least write down what the other person is saying? Having an entire page of my own half of the conversation is just plain strange. I don't even realize I'm doing it.
It's not just a weird habit, though. It's actually quite detrimental. I'm so used to writing down what I say that when I have to take a message for someone at work, it's really difficult for me. I kind of pause and get flustered. Granted, this is also because I absolutely despise talking on the phone, especially to people I don't know, and especially in a professional situation.
Also - The 9/11 post that everyone is doing today? Not going to happen here. Why? I will have no friends left after they hear my opinions.
Or some of this:
And I can't wait to go to this place, for some coffee and good company:
One of the waitresses took that ^^ picture. I <3 My Diner.
I think the real problem is that I seriously miss this guy:
Yes, I'm licking his face. Don't look so shocked!
This was me after I went home and discovered that my laptop, the computer I use most often, the computer that holds nearly ALL of my music, stopped working:
This was me, having gone completely insane after realizing that plugging and unplugging the laptop was not going to turn it on. Also, realizing that I have no money to purchase a new laptop. Also, after realizing that I spent a TON OF MONEY on the music on that computer, and that there is a ton of stuff other than music on that computer that I can't get back. Also, bra straps:
This was me at work this morning, exhausted from obsessing over laptop all damn night. Also, right before my cell phone decided to be a bitch and shut off for no reason, which it has never done before.
This is me after I almost started crying because I thought my laptop AND my cellphone were going to die, and also after I screamed at my cellphone and banged it on the desk and begged it not to leave me, and doesn't it know that I HAVE NO MONEY AND I CANNOT AFFORD THIS?! Also, after the cell phone turned on. And it seems to be behaving well. And it let me take a picture:
Yes, my jaw is visibly clenched.
It really was no miracle. What happened was just this:
The wind began to switch - the house to pitch
And suddenly the hinges started to unhitch.
Just then, the witch - to satisfy an itch -
Went flying on her broomstick thumbing for a hitch.
And oh, what happened then was rich!
The house began to pitch
The kitchen took a slitch
It landed on the Wicked Witch
In the middle of a ditch
Which was not a healthy situation
For the Wicked Witch.
The house began to pitch
The kitchen took a slitch
It landed on the Wicked Witch in the middle of a ditch
Which
Was not a healthy sitch-
-Uation for
The Wicked Witch
Who
Began to twitch
And was reduced
To just a stitch
Of what was once the Wicked Witch!
This has come up a few times in recent weeks, so I'm going to clarify.
I have posted on here a few times about how ridiculous I think the Catholic church is. My opinion is an informed one. I was Catholic for a great deal of time, I made my Communion and my Confirmation. I wanted to be a nun. I went to Confession. I have a collection of expensive rosaries for various occasions, and I still have about 10 bibles.
I decided at some point that I didn't want to be Catholic. I started thinking back to when I was younger and I tried to put coins into the donation basket. They were my coins that I had saved by myself, and I wanted to give them to the church. Then the donation basket dude told me we didn't need "any jingle bells" in the basket. At the time I felt like a horrible Catholic and thus went to Confession as often as possible and prayed like it was my job. At some point years later I remembered the incident and it got the ball rolling. I'm not sure when I decided that the Catholic Church wasn't cool for me, but it was probably when I was a rebellious teen and I thought safety pins were a really hot fashion accessory.
HOWEVER
Just because I rejected the Catholic belief system does not mean that I have rejected all belief systems. If I had to classify myself now, I'd classify myself as Christian. If I HAD to classify. I still hold Christian beliefs. I still enjoy church every once in awhile. (Non-denominational Christian church.) I know, it's insane. What can I say?
I have very specific beliefs. I'm not fanatical about them, or extreme about them, nor do I argue with people about them. Religion is something not to be messed with, and while I'll express my distaste for Catholicism here on my personal blog, I would never ever ever tell someone their belief system is wrong. If that's what you believe, who am I to say that you are wrong? I cannot say that with any authority.
For me, it felt very very wrong to partake in some of the Catholic traditions and beliefs. Confessing my sins to a priest. Judging others based on their lifestyle choices. Having people tell me my coins are not good enough to donate to the church. I feel these things have nothing to do with belief and more to do with power. I'm not into power, nor am I ok with people holding things over my head to make me feel bad or guilty. I think that's where a church turns into a cult, and where a benevolent system becomes a malicious one. Those are just things that I feel. I feel that in my gut, and anytime I've gone against my gut feeling things have gone all squirrelly.
So yeah, I'm Christian I guess. I believe certain things very strongly. I do not believe it is wrong to be homosexual or to sleep with someone out of wedlock. I do not believe it is ok to impose my views on other people, nor do I think it's ok for them to try to impose their views on me. I believe a lot of things. I don't know why, it just feels right. There was a time when I believed there was an imaginary penguin sitting in my ear. Who knows what's right? All I can do is go with what is comfortable for me.
What really made me look at things again was something really tiny that happened last night.
I was at the diner with my friend Levi. Levi is awesome. Levi and I were sitting at the counter discussing some rather inflammatory subjects (none of which had to do with religion) that were probably really inappropriate for public discussion. We laughed our asses off, and after we were done laughing there was a quiet moment.
In that quiet moment, two women who had been sitting in a booth behind us ask us if we have a church that we go to. The one woman talking to us was really kind and unobtrusive. Her friend just smiled and ate her food. Levi said the name of his church, and I said that I don't go too often but if I feel the urge I go to church in Pennington.
She then told us that we should stop by her church on Mulberry Street some time. She said it would be a lovely experience and that we'd have a very good time. Then she asked our names and we chatted for a bit. Then she and her friend got up, paid for their meal and left.
It kind of struck me. She was so kind and sweet. She obviously thought Levi and I are sinners and she was trying to save us from the fiery depths of Hell. I'm sure she noticed it was a lost cause, but hey, she gave it a shot. You know what though? The way she did it was so nice. She wasn't obtrusive, she didn't force anything down our throats, the words "Jesus Christ" never came up. She was just gently letting us know that should we ever feel the need to be church-goers, we were certainly welcome at her church.
And I think while it may have been a little presumptuous and a little unnecessary, at least it was done with good intentions. I think that those 'good intentions' are forgotten way way too often. People do things and say they have the best of intentions, but they are liars. Big fat dummy liars.
I guess that woman's disposition really made me think of the positive aspects of having a belief system. A lot of people assume because I'm not Catholic that I'm not anything, which couldn't be further from the truth. I just keep it to myself.
Anyway, this was pretty unorganized, and that story really doesn't tie in with the theme of this entry, but I'm grumpy and crampy and tired and hungry, so um, oh well.
Peace out, homies.
The scene: Playground before Lunch.
The players: Myself and 3 year old Lucy*. Lucy* is eeeeny weeeny teeeeny tiiiiiny. Have you ever heard that horrible, inaccurate, stereotypical Indian accent people do when they imitate gas staion attendants? That is the way Lucy* talks exactly. That is the WHOLE reason this story is amusing, so you have to imagine her saying these things with that accent.
I'm playing with a few kids in the sandbox when I hear Lucy's* voice from behind me. She's sort of, wimpering. I turn around and see her holding her butt for dear life with one hand. She's walking in circles. I ask her "Lucy*, what's up? Do you have to go potty?" to which she replies "My butt! My butt!" I assume that's a yes, so I take her inside to go potty.
She goes into the bathroom and does whatever is that she has to do. She then comes out of the bathroom with her pants around her ankles, and looks at me with big, confused eyes.
"Miss Ashley! We have no paper toilet!"
"Excuse me Lucy*? What was that?"
"We have no paper toilet! Oh my goodness!"
"Oh! Toilet paper! Sorry, I'll get you some more."
"Oh thank you so much. Oh goodness. That was a little scary."
She finishes what she has to finish and we go back outside. She tells all the teachers on the playground of her recent adventure and my GAWD the HORROR and Holy Crap! Whew! We were really scared there for a minute. Having no paper toilet can really rattle a person's nerves, you know.
I'm feeling like this is one of those "you had to be there" kind of stories. It was really funny though, I swear!
*As always, name has been changed.
Brain = still dead. All I can really think right now is:
Dear Balenciaga,
The riding cap and Herman Munster boots are HORRIBLE. HORRIBLE.
And it's not even off-the-wall enough to classify it as some crazy experiment. It's just ugly.
You suck,
Ashley
