Goddamn
What is it with me and last minute Mardi Gras trips?
My friend IM'd me just now and asked if I was still going. I said no, that the people I knew who were still going weren't people I wanted to stay with, and that the people I'd been planning to stay with couldn't make the trip. He said "You're welcome to stay with us. We're leaving at 9 AM on Friday and driving back Sunday morning."
This means I'd have to get myself to College Station on Thursday night, meaning I'd have to convince work to let me have Friday off. I'm going to volunteer to stay late all week to get the projects done, and hopefully they'll let me have it off as a PTO day. Cross your fingers...
Why I never had a fake ID.
I can't get away with anything "bad". It's just my luck, I guess. I don't speed (well, not any more than what the flow of traffic is doing), I don't steal (even when we were 10, and everyone was taking a candy bar for fun), I don't drink and drive (even if I'm feeling perfectly fine)... I get caught when I do anything that isn't kosher.
Case in point:
Over the summer, I got a job at a restaurant near the UT campus. I only intended to work there for a month or two, and then get another on-campus job and quit. This place was open REALLY late (3 AM) and had a notoriously high turnover rate. I wasn't expecting it to be anything great, but I figured it was money, and I could live with it for two months.
Right.
I'd been there about a week, and turned in a schedule request. I asked to have Friday night off, explaining that my best friend was moving to Cincinatti that Saturday, and it was her going away party. If it had been any other job, I could've just gone over after work, but by 3:30 AM, the party would be long over and I would be ready to die from exhaustion. I figured that they'd take pity on me and let me have the night off, right?
Wrong.
They scheduled me. I tried to find a replacement--NO ONE wanted to take the shift.
You're probably thinking "So call in sick." Well, that wouldn't work either--you weren't allowed to call in sick. You had to actually show up, and then they had to send you home sick--physical proof of your illness, I suppose--it's pretty easy to fake sick over the phone. In-person faking requires a talent I don't posess.
I carefully weighed my options.
No, that's a lie. I took ten seconds and thought "What's more important? A job I'm going to quit in 2 months anyway, or saying goodbye to my friend who I'll rarely see anymore? Gee..."
I didn't show up for work that Friday night, and never went back. I didnt' regret it a damn bit, either. I did avoid the restaurant until I left Austin, however, but you would think that was the end of it, right?
Fast forward to now. They also have a Dallas location near my place of residence. I've called them once before to have dinner delivered, so my information (address, phone number, name, etc.) is already in their Dallas computer system. I called last night to order delivery, and had this conversation:
"What's your phone number?"
"My phone number (like I'm giving it out on here)"
"What's your first name?"
"Kelly"
"Kelly, are you from Austin?" (note: my phone's area code is still the Austin code)
"Yeah"
"Did you ever work at Pluckers?"
Mentally: Fuck! FUCK! "Nope"
"Oh, OK. We used to have an employee there with the same name. I'm from Austin too"
"How weird."
I ordered my food, gave him my credit card number, and hung up.
THAT is why I didn't have a fake ID. That shit only happens to me.
I teeter between tired
and really really tired
I'm wiped out and I'm wired
but I guess it's just as well.
Karma's a bitch
I did something to piss someone in power off.
I'm not entirely sure what, but they've exacted their revenge via two avenues: Dallas traffic and the United States Postal Service.
I left a little bit late for work this morning, at 8:20. I don't *have* to be there until 9, so I was still on track to be there in plenty of time. I was up until 2 AM working at home, so I figured that being a few minutes late wouldn't be the end of the world.
My commute is in the opposite direction of what MOST Dallas commuters are doing. There's still traffic, and it can be heavy, but 90% of the time it's moving along steadily, particularly the 75N stretch of the commute. I have to go about 4 miles on 75 before I switch to 635, which is generally the problem child of the 13 mile trip.
This morning, I got onto 75 at 8:21.
I merged onto 635 at 9:23.
I finally got to work at 9:47, and I had a 10:00 meeting to haul ass to.
An hour to travel 4 miles. Oh. My. God.
Gah. Gah! GAH!
While I was at work, hating my life as usual, I checked the status of my package from Amazon.com.
This package already had a saga. They attempted to deliver it on January 15 to the 75208 zip code.
I live in 75206, and yes, I gave Amazon the correct shipping address.
So, the package is recorded as being missent and then returned to the facility on the 15th. I'm sure you can understand why I was getting concerned when the website said it went out again for delivery on the 16th, and I had seen no sign of it by the 19th. Upon calling the post office's 1-800 number, I was told to just wait for the next status update to the online tracking system.
Today, it said that the package was delivered at 6:50 PM last night. Great, right?
Well, not quite.
I did get a package last night. However, it wasn't from Amazon.com. The idiot postal workers scanned the wrong package as having been delivered, and now I have NO idea where my books and DVD are. And I'm getting pissed. I called the post office again, and this time they're submitting an inquiry to the local post office to find out what the hell the deal is. I should hear from them tomorrow.
It seems only appropriate to use some Postal Service lyrics now, huh?
The district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn out their lights
and send the autos swerving into the lonliest evening
And I am finally seeing
why I was the one worth leaving
Insomniac Theatre
I really need to work on my conceptual skills.
See, I have this horrible habit of constantly daydreaming. When I'm driving, when I'm at work, when I'm at lunch, when I'm on the phone, when I'm cooking, when I'm eating... you get the picture.
Now, I've moved on to daydreaming when I'm trying to go to sleep.
Yeah, it doesn't make sense to me, either.
I think it started because someone told me that if you think about something right before you go to sleep, the chances that you'll dream about it increase.
Of course, I probably should have taken into account the fact that I rarely dream about anything. So instead, this method of trying to control my dreams has morphed into this warped bedtime routine.
I take out my contacts, set my alarms (yes, plural), turn on the ceiling fan, shut the door, turn off the light, crawl into bed, snuggle under the covers, and start daydreaming. Except it's really not limited to daydreaming.
Sometimes I review the day. Sometimes I rewrite the past in my mind... sometimes I try to plan the future.
One thing I've learned from all of this has to do with the times that I try to rewrite the past... imagine how things would have gone if I had done this or that differently.
Truth?
I wouldn't change a thing.
There's not a single rewrite I can concoct that would put me in a place where I'd be as happy as I am today. I like my life. A lot. I like my family, I like my friends, I like my age, I like most everything about it.
I like who I am, who I've turned out to be. And as I mentally change Step A of sophomore year, or alter who I kissed on this night, I realize that without taking the path that I have, there are no guarantees as to who I would be right now.
And I'm not willing to take the risk.
Sure, I might be a better person than I am. But really--why do I need to be? I'm as lucky as they come. I've got a family that loves me and that is there for me. I have friends who make me laugh and make me feel content. I have a job. I have an employer who thinks the world of me and who was excited that I chose them. Yes, that I CHOSE them, because they thought I would choose someone else. I have a kickass grad school application. I have a good GRE score. I have the ability to move wherever I want, whenever I want, because the only person I have to answer to at the end of the day is me.
So while this whole daydreaming-turned-thoughtful thing might be bad for my sleep habits, it's been a wonderful thing for my outlook on life. Sure, I'll still fantasize about the future (and they change daily--everything from me meeting Mr. Right to me never meeting him and being happy about it to moving to Chicago to moving to England to being famous to being in a Presidential Cabinet--my personal favorite), but the past is something I wouldn't touch if I could.
Never have been one to write it down
Now I think I can
I know I'm stronger now
Who's looking south
Not me
I'm not looking back
So moved on.
It's weird when feelings change after being static for a long time.
I'm not really certain of what caused the change. It could have been one of a few, or a combination of them.
Maybe it was time, maybe it was moving on to someone else, maybe it was distance, maybe it was decreased communication... whatever it was, it happened.
And I'm glad.
I've had one thing or another going on with this person for almost 3 years. And now, while he's still one of the most important friends that I have, it's not anything more than friendship. And that isn't going to change. But the feelings of it being anything else? Gone.
And I'm really good with that one. It feels good. I'm ready for this.
Bring it on, life.
I used to lose floating memories, found myself wishing I'd remember old times.
But I woke today,
felt another way,
felt free in the sky to fly.
Nick the Great
It has been brought to my attention that I failed to give Nick credit for coming up with the idea that the yellow line is a very cool invention. My most sincere apologies to Nick, and I will even feature him in this entry as a way to make it up to him.
Nick is a very cool guy who has provided many hours of entertainment on AIM. He also provides me with an outlet for my Scrubs love, and agrees that Zach Braff is just that awesome. Other cool points about Nick:
- he likes Jimmy Eat World, and is my concert buddy for the show next Saturday
- he likes Something Corporate, and even sings along to it in the car
- he is a very cool person and recommended the Blue Hawaiian Boones to me at OU weekend
- he gives into peer pressure easily, especially when you're convincing him to take shots
But he's still going down in the drinking contest next Friday.
Alcohol, my permanent accessory
Alcohol, a party time necessity
Alcohol, alternative to feeling like yourself
Oh alcohol I still drink to your health
I don't like this at all.
I nearly hit a curb on my way to work today. My car skidded on a patch of ice.
Yes folks, a patch of ice. In Texas. In early January. This is absurd.
The wind chill right now is 11. ELEVEN. The actual temperature is 24.
I live in Texas. Therefore, I should not be subjected to such harsh conditions. Yes, I know that there are people in North Dakota who are dealing with wind chills of -50 and their cars not starting, but my God--I'm so much better equipped to deal with ridiculous amounts of heat than ridiculous amounts of cold.
To top that off, I'm sick. Of course, it's kind of nice to have it be freezing cold out when you're sick. When you have a nasty cold in the summer, ever notice how absurd it is for you to be inside under ten blankets, going through kleenex boxes at the rate of one an hour? It's much more acceptable to be sick when it's cold out.
But then, I'm sick and I'm at work, so it's not like I really get to enjoy the whole buried under ten blankets watching a movie and eating soup thing. Instead, I get to sit in my chair at my computer, breathing through my mouth (because my nose is stopped up), and feeling as though my eyes are swollen partially shut.
I want to go home.
I would have called in sick, but I'm at the helm of a big project that needs to be done by today. Granted, the majority of the it is finished and it just needs a little tweaking. If my boss would get here, we could finish the tweaks, and then I could look into going home early.
I have such a great "I got to go home early" afternoon planned, too. It starts with a hot shower. After that, I've scheduled a nice long nap and movie watching session. I'll probably eat some soup somewhere in there--yay for comfort food. After that, I'll wake up around 6 feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the tedious task of unpacking my apartment.
So, let's get this show on the road.
I'm feeling pretty good, and that's the truth
It's neither drink nor drug induced
No, I'm just doin' alright
Danger Zone
A few months ago, Target placed a Dollar Section near the entrance of the store.
The Dollar Section will be my financial downfall.
I went to Super Target tonight, as I was in need of groceries and a microwave, and I only wanted to make one stop. The microwave is quite nice, and is now sitting on my kitchen counter.
Of course, the first thing I did was walk through the Dollar Section with the intent of browsing.
Ten minutes later, the following items were in my cart:
- 4 martini glasses
- 4 of the old-style Coke glasses
- 1 set of 4 glass coasters
- 1 "Mozart and Martinis" CD
- 1 plastic basket
For those of you not keeping score at home, that's $11 worth of crap acquired in ten minutes.
My total bill tonight? $202. TWO HUNDRED AND TWO DOLLARS.
And the microwave, unfortunately, only accounts for $60 of that. What did I buy, you might ask? Everything.
The problem with moving is that you have to purchase the annoying, rather expensive items when you arrive at your new home. For me, that meant I was out of toilet paper ($7), Kleenex ($5), a razor (Don't ask--$7), soap ($5 for the giant liquid soap container), chicken ($10), contact solution ($6), and shaving gel ($3).
In all, that's another $43.
That means I only spent about $100 on food, which isn't bad. A large portion of that was to restock my pantry and freezer with items that won't go bad anytime soon--mac & cheese, soup, frozen pizza, frozen veggies (mmm, lima beans and green beans), stir fry, etc.
But between the Target run tonight and the fact that I have to pay my rent tomorrow, my nice, healthy $1200 bank account will now dwindle to... $660... then take out another $30 I spent on towels... $630... and another $100 spent on a birthday/christmas present for someone and a new down comforter for me... $530... $15 for gas... $515... then there are credit card bills to pay.
I need that $500 AMEX gift card now, please.
At least I get paid again on the 16th or so. And I should be getting my last paycheck from UT sometime soon.
Welcome to reality.
Well I've been working five days, full time
Ain't got no money
Everything is goin' fine.
That's it!
The greatest invention ever:
The yellow line they put on the screen during football games to mark the first down.
I love that damn line, and I can't wait til they figure out how to make it appear to those of us actually AT the game ;)
So there.
That's what I want
I want to be rich.
I'm not talking about having enough money to do things like to go to Linens n' Things last night and drop $28.06 on towels without first figuring out what bills I wasn't going to pay in order to afford that trip. I'm not talking about a $300/month car payment being a non-issue. I'm not even talking about living in the city and having a cute little cabin on the lake to escape to on summer weekends.
I'm talking filthy, stinking rich.
I want to be able to walk into Nordstrom with my limitless platinum American Express (ever notice that AMEX is really the snottiest credit card?) and throw 10 pairs of $150 jeans on the counter without a second thought. I want to breeze through Target and buy whatever I want. I want the Pottery Barn red couch that costs $1500, and I want the matching loveseat and armchair, too. I want my own private plane (even though I hate flying), a chauffer, and vacation houses in the following locales:
Austin (on a lake)
Possum Kingdom Lake
Destin
Nassau
Santa Monica
New York
Chicago
Seattle
Munich
Interlaken
London
Dublin
You get the idea.
I want to have so much money that it's obscene. I want a luxury box for every UT home football game, and for their bowl games. I want to go to every UT away game. I want boxes for Mavs games, Rangers games, and Stars games. I also want one for Red Sox games, as well as a residence in Boston where I can stay.
The funny thing is that I'm really not all that materialistic. I just occasionally have these moments where I think "Goddamn, I want to be a rich bastard".
I want money (that's what I want).
And it starts.
Seeing as this is my third or fourth attempt at actually keeping up with one of these, you would think I'd have some idea of what to put in my first entry.
I have no idea.
I think I'll start with a bit of background information. Not about myself, mind you--I'm really not that interesting, and most of you know me already. No, this will be about the small creature that my blog is named after.
Jumbles the Rhinocerous.
I obtained Jumbles from FAO Schwarz in New York City during my senior year of high school. My orchestra took a trip there over spring break, and it included the requisite stop at FAO Schwarz. I had already decided I would be purchasing a stuffed animal of some sort, so it was only a matter of which one to take with me when I left.
If you've never been to FAO Schwarz, you should note that their stuff is rather pricey. I had picked out a decently cute $30 bear when I stumbled across a display of wild animals. They apparently were being sold to benefit the World Widelife Federation, and they were only $10 each.
Buy one bear that I'm not terribly excited about for $30, or buy 3 really cute, soft, cuddly animals for the same price and help a good cause?
Gee.
I chose Swizzle the Giraffe, CrissCross the Alligator, and... Jumbles the Rhino.
Jumbles quickly became my favorite, but he didn't come into his own until later that year. One afternoon, as I whiled away the hours sitting at my computer in my dorm, attempting to write a paper, my suitemate (Gayla) walked into my room.
Gayla and I had established a good repoire, but nothing terribly close at that point.
However, that day, she walked in, and stood in the doorway for a few seconds, not saying anything. I looked up at her, and said "What's wrong?"
And the floodgates unleashed. She'd been very stressed, and she'd finally reached her breaking point. As she sat on my bed, flipping out, crying, and snotting all over herself, I managed to grab 2 things: Kleenex, and Jumbles.
Jumbles is magic. I handed him to her, instructed her to hug him tightly, and she began to calm down. Since then, 4 years ago, Jumbles has been the mainstay for all crisis situations. He has been through breakupts, deaths, papers, tests, finals, projects, computer viruses, roommate issues, injuries, hangovers, and God knows what else.
Thus, this blog's title shall be an ode to my friend, the stuffed Rhino. It should be noted that, after purchasing a female Jumbles for Gayla for Christmas, they have produced 2 baby Jumbles (really 2 rhino Beanie Babies that Gayla and her mom found in Kansas on vacation, but whatever). The family is doing well.
And in closing, a song lyric for the day:
Josie's on a vacation far away.
