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Archive for February, 2012

Moving

It’s ten. My mom is asleep on the couch while I play chest and try not to focus on the Mentalist. I had a great game last night where my father didn’t slaughter me but won after a hard fought battle. It’s not that the Mentalist is distracting but that I hate it. I love Simon Baker, or I know nothing about Simon Baker but I think he is very attractive. And his partner is from Empire Records, but really what else does that show have going for it? Besides being a highly successful crime procedural, of course.

We all had a busy week. My parents are putting their house on the market in March. It wasn’t until this Saturday that I actually realized how soon March was. Selling the house in March was the plan from November, it’s just what we said. And now it’s happening. I’m not actually that sentimental about the house. It kinda sucks that now it’s as close to brand new as it was since twenty years ago when it was brand new and we don’t get to enjoy it. But I’m most disappointed that my dogs will be moving an hour away once the house sells.

I was going to move when the house sold. And by move I mean I was going to find other family members to mooch off, many who have already offered. I don’t know how to illustrate how cheap I am because there isn’t really a list of set things I do. I just don’t spend money whenever possible. And I find it’s possible a lot. But now I’m at a point where I saying fuck it. I’m always saving up for some point in the future, whether it’s an emergency or my current plans to move to LA. Except it’s not really saving, it’s hoarding. I don’t have a good relationship with money. It causes me too much stress and anxiety. And I’m finding that save for money I really do want to move into my own apartment. So yes I will have to spend money. Once I’m done cringing over that I’m telling myself that this will be a positive experience for me or other happy mantras I can repeat when I freak out over money. But it will be. And I can still save money for LA. And my roommate wants to get a cat and name it Princess Sparkle. So there’s that too.

A tabby cat stretching(Domestic cat, Felis sil...

A cute cat picture cures all worries.

Technology Deprived

I turned into an old woman for a week. More specifically my mother. She stretches out on the couch, gets all set to watch her favorite shows, and then she’s asleep before the first commercial break. I’d come home around eight or nine this week and promptly doze on the couch for a couple hours. I think I was out by 10:00 every night. I didn’t know what else to do since my computer was broken.  I guess I can’t really understand that logic now but it made sense at the time. I like watching TV but it’s not something I can sit still for unless I’m doing something else. So this may have been first clue that I rely on my computer too much.

Or maybe that came as soon as I drove home from dropping it off and my first thought upon entering was that I should look up the song I just heard on the radio. And it continued like that. I’d want to check facebook then I’d remember, go to write then I’d remember. I don’t know at which point it become normal for me to write using the computer. Maybe its the three bags full of papers and notebooks that are in no discernible order.

I’m usually always on my computer. Sometimes I’m even doing something productive on it. Something went wrong with it (determined to not be my fault, yay).  The picture would freeze or turn gray and I had to move the screen to adjust it and get it to work again. This started out fine but when I was shaking it like an Etch-A-Sketch to get it to return to normal I figured it was probably time to just send it in.

The computer is back now and I’m happy. I did manage to get a few things accomplished without it. I got some cleaning done, I washed and folded a huge amount of laundry, I watched all of Party Down while washing said laundry. When I didn’t have anything else to do during TV I tried doing stomach crunches. I resorted to exercise and cleaning. I’m so glad my computer is back.

Truck

I wonder if there is a secret truck hierarchy I know nothing about. I thought about this today as a truck bigger than mine, working for some company, drove by me. I was behind another car going slowly but was content enough not to pass it and my exit was coming up.

When the truck passed me the driver didn’t give me a look like he was mad at the slow pokes in the right lane. He looked disappointed in me. I wondered if I had some responsibility to him as a fellow truck driver. And since my truck is always the smallest on the road, I’d  always be at the bottom of the totem pole.

I don’t really like driving a truck. Mine is 15 years old and instead of power steering it has power assisted steering.  I hate backing up and I am not the type of person that should drive a white car, or I should start caring about cleaning it. The trucks name is Louise because at one point my father had a label maker for his job and I labeled everything. I didn’t even notice it was still there until I gave a friend a ride and she asked who Louise was.

I do like the looks I get from other truck drivers, or any drivers, who spot a girl that looks like she could have just got her learners permit driving a small, but I guess still manly, truck. Some people try to hit on me when they see me driving, which is not very effective but they wink or roll down the window. I drive faster in those cases. But the shocked faces, I like those.

 

Today’s aspiration: I’ve been wanting to learn how to salsa dance for a while, so I’m going to look into that further today.

I am not a poem person, nor am I very religious, but this is probably one of my favorites. I’ve been slacking a lot lately, so I just wanted to post something.

 

God Says Yes To Me

Kaylin Haught

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
I asked her if it was okay to be short
and she said it sure is
I asked her if I could wear nail polish
or not wear nail polish
and she said honey
she calls me that sometimes
she said you can do just exactly
what you want to
Thanks God I said
And is it even okay if I don’t paragraph
my letters
Sweetcakes God said
who knows where she picked that up
what I’m telling you is
Yes Yes Yes

 

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