Thursday, August 30, 2007

Raining in Reno

Jesse and I both had today off so we decided to go fishing this morning. We left around 8 or so. Fished the Truckee for a bit. Caught a trout, threw it back. Shortly later, we noticed the sky getting dark. It was maybe only 15 minutes till a full on storm looked like it was rolling in. Jesse and I decided to pack up because we didn't know of there would be any flash floods or anything. Just as we were putting the tackle away and getting the pug, it starts to drizzle. We started up the path to the railroad tracks, hoping to get up there before the rain poured down turning our soft ground into waterfalls of mud. Sure as shit, right after we get up the mountain side to the railroad tracks, the rain starts to pour. We're not really too concerned by this point as we're away from any potential flood lands some 40 feet higher up. But we still need to get up from the tracks to where we parked. Fortunately that area wasn't too mucky but the moisture could easily loose up rocks. On that note, I had seen a giant boulder on the side of the river that had fallen from the surface from the rain waters yesterday. There was a 12" gap between where the rock once sat and where it now slid into the water. Anyway, once we got back up to the area where we parked, we ran about a quarter mile to the truck and jumped inside. I was dripping sunblock and it was gross. The rain was really intense on the freeway back home. We stopped off to get some Wienershnitzel on the way home and there was thunder and lightning while we were in the drive thru. Some 2 hours later it's still cloudy. There might be more rain. It's a little chilly. It was a fun morning though. We came back home and ate our Wienershnitzel and watched a movie. We had family time. It was kinda cute cos Jesse sat on the couch, I laid on top of him, and Lulu somehow found a way to lay between us. We all stayed warm and watched a documentary on credit card debt we Netflixed, called Maxed Out. Anyway, I gotta clean the house and we're gonna do laundry shortly. Lori is due here in 9 hours give or take. I really hope it doesn't rain tomorrow when she's here because Saturday is gonna be our big day to go places and what not.

Rock you like a hurricane...or at least a Northern Nevada summer storm...

So I get off work a little earlier than 3 today. I called Jesse's work but they said he was at lunch. I figure I'll just walk down there and by the time I get there he'll be back and I can get our fishing stuff and say "hi". I get there and pick up the fishing stuff. I can't get Lori's license cos non-residents need to provide their ID, social, and signature. So I just get the rest of the crap instead. I asked if Jesse was back yet and the girl seemed kinda ditsy and not sure who Jesse was and I was like "Jesse in hunting?" and she still seemed confused but said she thought he was at lunch. When I get out it is slightly drizzling so I figure I'll just walk home instead of wait for him. I've already walked one of the 3.25 miles it is from my work to our apartment so what's another two and a quarter, eh? So I'm walking and it's drizzling. Then the thunder rolls in. Then the heavy ass downpour rain. I got soaked. I'm glad my bag didn't fall apart. It was pretty heavy. The weather is so nice right now. All the windows are open in the apartment. It's not sunny. It's very moist but not humid because it's not that hot. It really is nice weather right now. I rather enjoyed my walk in the pouring rain and thunder. I'm glad to be home though cos I got dehydrated whilst on foot.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

He can't die... he’s Clint Eastwood!!!

Ok, bar none, Chuck Norris, whilst amusing, is over rated. Chuck has iron fists, but Clint Eastwood can get shot multiple times and NOT die, kick multiple bandit asses, and get the girl... Top that one Chuck!!!!

Mark, the mystery neighbor

Ok, so I've posted numerous blogs about Crazy Lady and the Tweakers, but none yet about Mark. Reason being, I don't really know anything about Mark. I'd assume he was a Marine at one time. I think he likes the Dodgers. I only gather this based on paraphanelia he has on and in his truck. He scraped my Jeep one time when he was leaving for work cos Crazy Lady parked too close to him and in an attempt to go closer to my car to not scratch theirs, he scratched mine. He came over and told me and apologized about it but I told him it was no big deal, cos it was on the plastic part and barely even noticeable. I've seen him watering the lawn once or twice since Crazy Lady left. He has a lady friend. We don't know her name but she's kinda tall and drives one of those newer VW beetles in white. Any time we see it outside, we joke "Mark's lady friend is over." I think they started dating around teh time we moved in because she comes over a lot more frequently now-a-days. I think things are getting pretty serious between them. She's been known to spend the night once or twice. That's all we really know about him. Other than stuff Crazy Lady's told us and that's kinda questionable information, given the source it was coming from.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007


i want to be placed on that pedestal you have placed others on. i keep telling you i want validation and you ask me if living together isn't good enough. ok, i love living with you. in fact, i don't think i could see myself living with anyone else. i knew you were the one i wanted to live with the day i left my parent's house. but, i just always have this little grey cloud looming in the back of my mind that wonders why you never treated me the way you treated others. i suppose i'm low maintenance? maybe you thought you didn't have to go to those extents to make me happy, that i was fortunate enough just to be with you? and it is true to some extent. all i want is for someone to love me as much as i love them. to be proud of being with me. to climb the top of the highest mountain and scream at the top of their lungs they love me. ok, metaphor. but you get the point. i don't want someone to be with me and feel that things are content and that they're ok and fine. even from the get-go, it's always been we were together, we're happy, leave it at that. but it was taboo for us to be together. we weren't allowed to talk about it for a while. like in doing so we might upset some people. in the end, did any of that even matter? i feel real hurt that i do so much and yet i don't get placed on that pedestal the others were put upon for the world to see. it's days like that i wake up, reluctant to do anything. i wonder why i do it. what's the point. why should i clean the house? why should i cook dinner? why should i do the laundry? what's the point? i do all that are in my powers to keep you happy and sometimes i feel as if i am taken for granted. like these things are just expected of me. that it is my job to take care of you. it is not my job to do any of this. i do it because i love you. because i think you appreciate it. i suppose if you read this, i'd like to ask you, what do you want for dinner tonight? and follow that question up with, you'll probably have to defrost something depending on what you choose. this morning when you took me to work, neither of us said anything. when i left, i gave you a kiss, you kissed back. i told you i love you and instead of your usual i love you back, you simply said "see you". i don't know about you, but that certainly put a damper on my day. you see, even though you make me feel sad sometimes, i still love you. a lot in fact. and no matter how bad i feel about not being on the magical pedestal, i try to look past that at the fact i love you as much as i do. and i try to dust those feelings under the rug. but eventually the pile gets to big it begins to spill out. and therefore, once every so many months, the issue arrises again: why are you not proud of me? why do you not want the world to know you are with me? and again you reply we live together. what's done is done, what's past is past, get over it and move on. i know i dwell on things i shouldn't. i'll try not to. i'll dwell on things like the fact i love you more. i need a hug. i need to be held. i need to be told i am loved. i just need these things sometimes. all i want is someone who loves me as much as i love them. is that too much to ask for?

Sunday, August 26, 2007

The Bastard Pot Holder

I have the gnarliest, most wickedest craving for a dill pickle right now. I have had it since late last night. I thought it would die down this morning, but much to my dismay, it has not. So I will have to do something about this soon. On pickles, that reminds me of this time we were somewhere where Jesse's teacher Andy was (I almost typo'd Nady and think of nads.) Anyway, he was telling us about this dude who had a German shephard and it was trained to attack whenever you said the word pickles... I dunno. That popped into my mind. Whatever. I want a fucking pickle.

Sad Girl

I woke up early to clean. Instead I find myself hopping on myspace. Then I decide to untangle the strings on the blinds so they don't go up and down all crooked. I attempted at cleaning more but then find myself distracted by other "tasks". Watching tv. Laying down sleeping. Trying to get the dog to take a shit. Finding missing dog toys. Hopping from room to room as if the start of one job triggers an immediate must-do of another. Eventually I wind up realizing there is so much to do I don't know where to start and wind up flustered. It's housework, not rocket science, why then, the frustration? I just need to find a spot and start there and STAY there till it's done. I don't get it. The cars need to be straightened. The wires on the floor need to be arranged. I should dust but I don't have anything to dust with. There's hair behind the toilet. Kitchen. Right. I'm on it...

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Casino Dinner

Today when Jesse picked me up from work he was like "Hey, I have this crazy idea... what if later on tonight we walk down to Harrah's and get some French onion soup at the Napa Cafe again?" (we went last Thursday after Sun Trash.) I said that sounded like a good idea. So alas, we are home after having dinner at Harrah's. It was just as good as I think I remembered it being last week. I am a happy camper. I'm going to bed. Damn that's a good soup...

A new generation of sluts

Today Jesse took me to lunch at Port of Subs. For those of you who can't figure out what that is, or are too lame to google it, it's a sub shop based out of Reno and has spread through out the north west. Anyway, I love them because they sell salami sandwiches, but I should probably devote a blog to them later.

While at lunch, we were sort of in awe at how full the place was. Naturally we pay attention to all the people in there, and the ones who come in. Then they come in: slut mom and her two slut-in-training kids.

Slut mom looks like she's probably in her late 20s, maybe almost 30. Probably met some frat boy jock type in school, had a $80,000 wedding, popped out some ultimate accessories and now is trying to mold them into little versions of her: miniature money grubbing whores. The kids look like they are maybe 8 and 10. Both are clad in miniskirts and flip flops to show off their juvenile legs a pedophile would beat off to in his car if he saw them, tight little tank tops, and make up. Not like kiddie Bonne Belle light colored lip gloss, but like full on make up. We're talking the heavy ass eyeliner and mascera, lipstick, and god knows what. It was creepy, like how those little pageant kids wear make up to make them look older. They weren't even like 10 and yet they looked like what 16 year olds who try to dress older so they can get into clubs or something. You know, how they equate skankiness to maturity?

Jesse and I were rather appalled. We couldn't imagine what kind of mom would let their kids dress like that. Or how schools would let parents dress their kids that way. Or how people design kids clothes to make kids look like miniature sluts. It's just shocking. I remember being that age and wearing like skorts and t-shirts and running around the playground. These kids are dressing like porn stars and talking about boys. It's like, you're 10, what do you know about boys?! And these parents wonder why their kids have like 8 abortions by the time they're 18!? I so wanted to say something to that woman. Jesse was like, "You'd get the 'you can't tell me how to raise my kids!' shpeel." Whatever. Child social services should be called on that shit. That's like asking for your kids to get raped or something. Definitely poor parenting at its finest.

I'd like to take a moment to aknowldge Jesse...

Sometimes, the finer things in life don't get the recognition they deserve. One of those things happens to be Jesse and his genitalia of a rather large caliber. Jesse is of a finer species of white males, blessed with a ginormous penis. However, you could have the tools God gives you and not know how to use them. This is where Jesse prevails. Not only has he been granted a fine piece, he is more than skilled at using it. I am writing this in a state of post-phenominal-sex euphoria. Ok, so I've had sex before. It wasn't always pretty. It wasn't always good. But with Jesse, it's not only amazing, it is, well, I can't even explain how amazing it is. He is bar-none the best sex I have ever had, and I'm not saying this because I want to get into his pants, because I can do that anytime. Jesse is a total stud. And he's my stud. I look forward to a long life of ridiculously hot sex. Jesse, I raise my glass to you, you hot piece of Teague, you!!!

Tuesday, August 21, 2007


I have this baby doll pajama I got from Victoria's Secret last week. It's a really comfy slinky cotton/spandex/polyester type material in light blue paisley with navy lace. My boobs aren't super big, so whenever I wear it, it sits really low. I have this tendency to wake up in the morning and find one of my boobs hanging out to greet me. Upon which, I just throw it back under the material again and get ready for work. :P

Friday, August 17, 2007

Thursday Night Adventures Posted Date: August 17 - 5:54 AM

Saturday I was to reschedule my hair coloring for sometime on Wednesday or Thursday. So I went with Thursday. I had a show that night too. I have a boquet of drinks, an orange and cream martini, some glasses of cabernet. I also get the most awesomest bleaching job. So with all that in mind, I come out a very happy camper with big fabulous hair. It looks good.

After that, I get a ride to the Satellite to see if I can get advanced tickets to the show, which they do not sell. So I wind up having a few drinks there and just hanging out. Finally it becomes 7:30 and I get a ride back to ye old apartment.

I have some more beers whilst doing my make up and changing. At that point it is time to go because I have this feeling if we get there early we'll have no cover charge. Wrong. We pay $6 to get in. No biggie. We're starved too. Jesse worked through lunch and didn't have any food and the pizza place next door was closed. There were pizzas on the counter and I joked he should pretend to be part of the band to get free food hahah.

Well the band shows up in spurts but by the time the singer gets there they're all hanging out near where our table is. Jesse was like "Do you realize we're sitting like 2 feet away from the singer of Throw Rag?" Yes, yes I do. For whatever reason he turns around and says hi to us and Jesse greets him back. There was a brief conversation of the fact we were drinking good beer and having a good time. The singer asks how we're doing and I said "We're starving" jokingly. He then offers us a piece of pizza but says he only has one and we say we can share and he brings it over to us. What a nice guy, huh? I told Jesse he did that cos I was cute and convincing but he says its just cos he's a nice down to earth guy, but assured me I still did look cute.

We then have some more drinks and enjoy the show and it was all good fun. After we decide on walking to the casinos for dinner. We decide to go to Harrah's. We wind up in some place the Napa Cafe. I don't know what Jesse ate but I recall having french onion soup and a quesadilla. Thinking back it sounds rather disgusting but man that soup was great and the cheeze and quesadillaness just totally aided in the possibilities of spending the night trying to fight off vomiting.

Somewhere in the drunkeness I lost one of my new earings. I was sad. I also called a coworker around 1 AM leaving a very obnoxious voicemail threatening to pick us up because I was falling asleep at the table and knew I wouldn't make it home. At dinner, Jesse and I had a totally drinking-inspired philosophical discussion that we should get a marriage license and be married on paper for now so he can reap the benefits of my health insurance and dental and vision and life and all that good stuff and then when tax time comes we could get a sweet ass tax break. Personally I'm in my sober state all for it, I think I'll have to talk to him about this more later, but it would just be a paper thing for now and then when he finishes school and what not we would have a real wedding later for our family and friends so they don't bitch about the fact we didn't have one. In all honesty, I have this feeling if I get married, it will be like my relationships. It won't happen in the traditional sense of proposing and doing all the fun whatever crap . It will be something that just happens, like we fall into it because it seems to be the natural flow, ie the paper marriage for benefits etc and we'll just stay together and be married from then on in etc. Who knows.

Somewhere between getting dropped off and us going to bed, I think we had sex. I mean, it was very Rosemary's Babyish like when she gets raped by the devil and impregnated with his kid and she's not really too sure it happened but then like later on she realizes it did? Well, I have this feeling we had some really crazy sex last night. I think there was some moments of pawing at each other. But it's weird because the same thing happened the night before and I'm thinking it's like some sort of dejavu or something. I don't know what to think... so if we did have sex last night, it was amazing, I just wish I was more sober to remember it better.

And apparently I don't think I turned my alarm clock on. I woke up and peed and went on the computer and look at the clock on my computer and it says its 8:37!!! Then I'm like "FUCK!!! I'M LATE!!!" I'm not too panicked because I can say I was going to come in at 8:30 that day or something. None the less, I roll in around 9 but no one really seems to care. I get some Carl's Jr. so I can get some grease in me.

After that, I just feel totally non-functional at work and want to go to the gun show. I called Jesse to see if he wanted to have lunch and god bless him he's such a sweetheart, he told me he drove back to Harrah's to see if I left my earring at the casino somewhere but had no luck. So I went to the mall to see if there was another pair and there were! So I got it and then I found those yellow shoes I wanted at Aldo that were $80 on sale for $19.99!!!!! Anyway, it was a good day. I'm waiting for Jesse to get me soon and the two of us to go to the gun show.

And I am so lucky to have a man like Jesse who is such a sweetheart that he does the things he does for me. I love him! We should get married.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

I'm so excited... and I just can't hide it...

So ok I'm put off $230. I can't get anything at the gun show now. But no biggie. There will be more. I'm flying my sister up here for Labor Day weekend. Yay! That'll be fun. I foresee a shooting party on Saturday, a trip to Mogul Sunday before she leaves, some walks to the Strip and whatever else might happen. Oh and I will make her one of the steaks from the Meat Man so she can taste how delicious they are, seeing as she will be a guest in our house, sleeping on the .... waaaahhhh.... COUCH. Anyway, you know how I say I don't really miss anyone back home. Well, I do miss my weekend breakfasts at Millies with my sister, and quite frankly, I'm disappointed in the fact she's so busy with this and that, that we rarely talk on the phone. So I'm pretty much stealing her away from whatever it is she does back home for a weekend to hang out like old times, only up in Reno. It should be fun. :) Yay! 2.5 weeks! I can't wait! Seeing a familiar face is always a good thing. Plus, unlike the majority of sisters I know, we are one of the few who actually get along, so when the two of us get going, it's rather amusing. We have a tendency to come up with stupid crap that we find funny... finger finger snake, finger finger snake, snake snake penis. You don't get it. We don't get it. But damn, it sounds funny, don't it???

Contemplation Nation

You know, I feel like my mind is in a bit of a cluster fuck right now.

I suppose it started with the coupon. Maybe it goes back further but it is rehashed thanks to the coupon.

I feel a bit uneasy, odd even. Jesse and I were in the bath tonight talking about random stuff in between making songs about Crazy Lady's dog. We were talking about kids. The whole flip-flopping between we want kids, we don't want kids. Jesse suggested adoption but then after about a few seconds we both agreed that's not really the route we want to take. And he was talking about if we get a house he would like a big bath tub so he could rest in it underwater like I do in ours. I told him if he wants a big tub of water to just get one of those outdoor freestanding hot tubs and we could line the edges with tea candles and go in it when there's snow outside. He agreed that would be cool. Unfortunately we have all these grand ideas of what-if's but no plans of when or how to get there.

I know we're doing things step by step. Jesse needs to finish school first, I need to pay off debts, etc. etc. But it's kind of depressing. I just feel like all we do is talk about these ideas but there's really no proof that it might one day happen. Jesse tells me its ok to dream because it motivates me to do things. I see it more as a setting myself up for disappointment.

I remember once wanting to marry a man because I thought that was what I was supposed to be with and that was the hand I was being dealt and to just deal with it, for lack of better explanation. Then I woke up. Now I'm with a man I want to marry because I actually love him and enjoy his company and could see myself growing old with and having a family with (shit, we already have a pug child, right?) yet I wonder what his thoughts are. I wonder when is the right time. The best explanation from anyone was from my old coworker Matt who said "If you really want to be with someone, there is no such thing as a 'right time'. You either want to be with them, or you don't." This theory was obvious with dip shit, whom I thought I was supposed to be with yet he clearly didn't want to be with me, and only showed some signs of interest once he realized it was too late.

I don't want to force anything on anyone though. I want to know that should any decision be made it be made upon one's own free will, and that they share my feelings and dreams of a long life together. I realize that maybe for whatever reasons in life they don't feel ready and I suppose that's understandable, but I can't help but revert back to Matt's "right time" theory.

I know I haven't been with a lot of people, but I also know when something feels right. I know when something feels fun. I know when something feels wrong. I realized I was in a bad situation for 5 years, all 5 years I was in it, yet I didn't want to leave it for fears that this was my one shot and if I ruined it, that was it. But then, I had got to the point I didn't even care and I did things that seemed out of my character and fell into a horrible depression and didn't want to do anything. By that time, I had been fortunate enough to realize that life is rather funny and tricky. Sometimes you might get dealt shitty cards, but you can turn them in for another hand. At this point in my life, I feel like I have a full house. Sure, it's not the highest hand you can be dealt, but it is a winning hand, and it's a pretty good one to have at that. At this point in my life, I can say things feel right. I am happy. I like where things are at.

However, I just wish I had that reassurance. I know he loves me. He tells me so every day. Several times, at that. And in all honesty, as much as I love him, I don't want this to be another thing where I spend 5 years of my life in a relationship on the road to nowhere. I don't plan on being a professional dater or living some common-law married life. I don't date for sport and everyone and their mother knows this.

Sometimes I don't know what he's waiting for. I don't need a ring. My parents didn't have one. A lot of people don't get them. It's not like some seal-the-deal object. Sure, I love shiny things, but when push comes to shove, that's not gonna make or break it. I love you for who you are, not what you can buy me. I mean, if you absolutely feel you must get me a ring, I guess that's fine. Just don't get something outlandishly expensive because you know it and I know it, we're not those kind of people.

Basically, all I'm saying is talk is cheap. We can sweet talk about the what-if's all we want, but I want some confirmation that those what-if's are gonna happen one day. Come December it'll be a year and a half. According to Dr. Laura, that's an appropriate time. We'll see how much he follows her teachings then...

City Truck is a Shitty Truck

Just my luck, I get rid of Jeepie and get a little truck to avoid car payments and lo and behold my truck craps out on me. Piece of shit. So I walk from work after spending 30 minutes in the sauna I call the inside of the truck trying to get it to start. I just leave it at work and walk down to Jesse's work. My shoes hurt like hell. They're those pointy toed shoes. They're new. They hurt. By the time I get to Jesse's work I have blisters the size of quarters on the back of my feet and I'm hobbling around dripping in sweat. I want to cry. I'm cranky. I want to go home. I wait for him to get off and hobble back to his truck. I decide its in my best interest to just sell Shitty Truck for whatever I can get out of him. I don't know if I'll get another car yet. I don't really see the need for one while Jesse is still living here as he usually drives me places, so yea. We'll see what happens. I'm pretty pissed off right now and in pain. I don't want to be bothered right now so I'm just going to go back to my pizza and eat and maybe take a bath and go to bed.

Monday, August 13, 2007

******** UPDATE: Crazy Lady Gone??? *******

First things first, Crazy Lady was supposed to be out yesterday. This morning I see her get into a grey car and leave while I was waiting for Jesse to take me to work. I kinda have a sigh of relief at the thought of knowing I won't have to see her when we leave. Anyway, like every morning Jesse takes me to work, our pug child goes with us. Oddly enough, Dodger was downstairs, so I kinda move in front of him so Lulu can get out without him trying to eat her. That big dummy dog runs behind my legs and Lulu goes to pee in the grass and he goes around me to the right to chase her, nearly knocking me on my ass. Granted, I'm wearing high heels and I'm in a dress. My night in a Sportsman's Warehouse shirt shows up and gets Dodge off my back. I go to work and all is well.

We get home together and see a note on Crazy Lady's door. It says something like "Do not change the locks. The judge says I'm allowed to stay here till the 21" or something along those lines and her name signed in chicken scratch. We shake our heads in disgust and go home.

Not too long after, we see, you guessed it, Crazy Lady, walking Dodger down the street. She the heads off to some other apartment and has a talk fest with Tweaker Lady and some other scumbags. Then, the guy on the bike takes Dodger with him. Jesse said "I like how Crazy Lady acts like Dodger is her kid but lets him go off with some scumbag on the bike."

(L -> R: Twyla "Tweaker Lady", Judy "Crazy Lady", Scumbag on bike, Dirty Scumbag broad, Dodger)

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Why are men so dense?

Ok, this isn't a feminist rant but more just a frustration venting. The other day Alisha and I were talking about gifts we got from guys in the past. Her gift boners included a $50 gift card to best buy for her birthday and a glass lobster for Valentine's day. Mine included an unwrapped dvd player with price tag still on it that didn't work the first time I used it, records I could care less about owning, a ring that meant nothing, cash because he didn't know what to get me and I could go on and on about the horribly lame gifts I got from dipshit. I'm not sure as to what Jesse's gift giving skills are as he didn't have any money to get me anything for Christmas, my birthday or Valentine's Day because he was in school and broke as hell. He did allude to the possibility of getting me a gun for Christmas, which, ok as much as I want a gun, I most likely do not want him to get me a gun. I want something that shows you actually pay attention to me as a person, what I like, shit I'm into, etc. etc. Granted, I already know what I'm getting Jesse for Christmas, but it will take a lot of creativity for me to get it. None the less, I'll find a way...and I have a backup idea in case the previous thought fails.

But then, yesterday Alisha tells me her boyfriend totally redeems himself. For their year anniversary, he is taking her to San Francisco for a day trip to see the Marie Antoinette exhibit because he knows she is so into her (and in my humble opinion, I think she was like the first fashion icon... more on that later though.) So ok, he gets a doofy present for her birthday and Valentine's Day but he's taking her on this romantic day trip spending it on something she is interested in. She was totally smitten. It was so cute to hear her talk about it because she was soooo excited about it and you can totally get from her explaining it that this is something that means a lot to her and that he put a lot of thought into it. Well goddammit, why can't someone do something like that for me? I've never had anyone take me on some sort of day trip or anywhere romantic. I had dinner with Jesse the other night. It was like a date I guess. But it just didn't feel like a date, you know? I mean, we walked there wearing our street clothes. He was wearing shorts. I'm not even going to get into how much I hate shorts at this point, but like we had gift certificates for the place. So it didn't really feel like a we're going out kinda thing but more like a we're just going to get dinner because we don't feel like cooking tonight kind of thing. It breaks my heart whenever we go to the strip and he'll talk about how when he was dating this girl or that girl they went to this show or this place or whatever and it's like I've never done any of that shit with him. I just feel like left out in the storm sometimes. Granted, we're broke still and don't really have money to do anything, and he tells me that when he gets on his feet he'll take me out. But like I wanted to go to 60's prom. He knew this for quit some time. I even had a print out of it on the fridge with the info on ticket prices and where to get them. It rested right next to his work schedule. Granted, he gets paid, and Thursday comes along. I get out of work at a reasonable time yet we do not go to prom. We do not have tickets. They were never purchased. Instead, Jesse delights in gun socks, a new gun case, and books on concealed carries. Plus he got his Stoger, which broke on him like the night he got it and he was pissed off to the point of stabbing our living room wall. All I wanted was one thing. One measly little thing. One thing I had been talking about wanting to do all fucking summer and he kept saying we would do it if we had the money. We had the money. We didn't go. And I can't help but think that like if I were one of those other girls he dated, maybe, just maybe, we would have gone. I just feel like shit sometimes. We spent all of the summer watching Dirty Dancing and I love that movie and thought maybe 60's prom would be like Dirty Dancing and we'd go there dressed to the 9's and maybe the cover band would play Hey Baby or Stay and we'd dance and it would be magical. But it didn't happen. Every guy I ever dated has never ever taken me out on a date in the traditional sense of dating. I shit you not, I would hang out at their house and watch movies or watch them do shit online and they'd make something to eat or pick up fast food. I know it's not true or the case, but I just feel like people see me and don't think I'm worthy of being treated the way they treat others. Like they place other people on these pedestals and I get treated like some sort of half-ass thing they could care less about.

Just once I'd like to be treated like all the other girls. I'm not super materialistic. I'll still love you whether or not you do something for me, but I would feel special if you did do something for me. I just want to be swept off my feet, just once, so I could die knowing what it's like to experience stupid romance. I never had a guy buy me flowers while we were dating. I never had a guy buy me something I actually wanted or was interested in. I never had a guy take me somewhere nice. I've never had a fucking date for Christ sake. And I know Jesse says we're beyond dating as we've been together over a year now, but Jesus, you could still take me out. Who cares! Call it making up for lost time! Take me places you would take those other girls who didn't deserve that shit. Its like I do so much for him yet I get treated like some sort of second class citizen and these bitches who fucking used him and treated him like crap got the world handed to them on a fucking silver platter. It's just really REALLY frustrating. I mean, maybe in terms of gift giving, ok that could be pretty difficult. I'm really picky as to what I like and I don't like a lot of things. But there are sometimes things I do love and would never buy for myself because I just don't think it would be appropriate for me to do so, like in buying myself such an outlandish thing would just be tacky because people would ask me if my boyfriend got it for me and I'd be like "no, I got it for myself because I liked it" and then they give you this face and are like "oh...." like the reaction people always give me when they see my ring. i bought myself that because dipshit got me that beautiful ring cos my sister told him i wanted it and made note that it meant nothing and when we broke up i got rid of it, but because i loved how diamonds looked on my fingers i got myself a ring and got so much shit from other people about it because people don't just buy themselves diamond rings. who cares!? and then its like when i explain that i bought it for me and, no, my boyfriend did not buy it for me, they give me this look like my boyfriend is some kind of bum because he didn't buy it for me. ok, i know he's not a bum. i don't care. i know he's going to school and trying to make a decent living for himself, but they don't. i forgive him for not buying me things. i didn't have any objections to him buying himself new boots instead of getting me anything for valentines day or my birthday last year because he was out in the fucking snow with broken shoes and needed them more than i would need whatever the hell he would have bought me. i was happy he at least called me to tell me happy birthday instead of leaving me some sort of email or myspace message. i would have been happy with just a card even if he could have afforded one but he was broke then and didn't even have money for school supplies.

i know he means well but somewhere along the lines of him trying to do his thing i feel like i somehow get neglected. in all honesty i don't equate super expensive things with love. i mean, he brought me home a dr pepper one day when i had been in tears and that made me happy. he nearly made me cry when he said he couldn't wait to finish school so he could properly provide for me. i know he wants to do well. i guess i'm just asking for too much in too little time. i need to be told to be patient. its just hard to be patient and not feel like crap when you hear about all the things he's done in the past. its like why can't we do those things? and then you realize oh yes thats right because we're broke. even still, i'm sure there are things even broke people can do. so we didn't go to prom. what's not to say i can't come home from work one day and he have prom here for me, if even for just one dance? i don't know. i'm not a genius with that type of stuff. i just want him to plan out something special just for me. maybe i'm being greedy. i think i'm being greedy. i'm asking for too much here, aren't i?


I was finishing up my last blog and holding my bladder. I got up and ran to the bathroom and took off my pants and did a start-to-pee and then managed to get to full sit. It is upon my sit that I realize the toilet lid is down! I then lift it up and immediately finish to pee whilst cursing profusely and wondering who the fuck put the seat down. Then after two seconds I realize, oh wait, I did to reach the dog's shampoo. D'oh. I finish and clean the toilet lid and tell Jesse who looks at me with this look of you are a frazzle brained goofball but I still love you kinda look and then he went back to his book. Further proof I am still and asshole.

Thursday, August 9, 2007

The Meat Man A Cometh

Today when Jesse and I were coming home this big ass truck is slowing down near us. Then the guy in the truck stops and was like, "You guys like meat?" and we look at his truck and realize its some sort of door-to-door meat vendor. So we're like, "Yea!" and he's like "Would you be interested in buying meat for $3 to $4 a cut?" and we're like "YEA!" So he parks and puts his steak box on the back of Jesse's truck and proceeds to show off his meat. He wants like $300 for a years worth of meat. I told him we don't have that kind of money. So he says he'll sell us half a case for $170. We still tell him that's too much. Jesse then finnagles him into buying 2 boxes of steak for $60. He says that's cool. We take his card and tell him when we get more money we'd be interested in buying a years worth of meat from him. So now we have like 12 steaks in our freezer and they're all big ass fat juicy thick nice cuts of meat! And after doing the math, ok so it's not $3 or $4 a cut but more like $5 but even still, a good New York usually runs you like $9 in the store and the cuts we got are like 10 times better than store bought cuts. They're like straight up butcher cut style! So yea, that's our meat man story. We'll probably be calling him back.


When I moved up here I learned of a 60's themed prom. After spending all summer watching Dirty Dancing, I wanted nothing more than to go to the prom. I was looking forward to it all summer. Alas, tonight is the night of the event and Jesse and I will not be going. We never got tickets to go. It's probably sold out. Jesse wasn't too into the idea of going anyway. I'm just sad because I was looking forward to this all summer and I feel like I never get to do things I want to do. I'll probably just spend the night sulking and Jesse will ask me what's wrong and I'll say nothing even though I'm just sad that I didn't get to go to prom. And being totally irrational I have this voice in the back of my head that says if I were one of his other girlfriends, we probably would have gone, but it's like I'm not good enough.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007


Underwear suck. I really like living with Jesse because I can run around without any underwear on and he doesn't complain... in fact, I think he rather enjoys it... hahahah!!!!

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

The glass is not half empty, it's broken...

I come home today and see a red note on the door. Maintenance was here. I didn't know they were coming. They caulked our shower's soap dish holder which has no dish. The note also says "do not use shower until tomorrow". Great. I was really looking forward to taking a nice hot shower tonight seeing as it'll make my period induced self feel a world of better, plus my hair is all oily and my legs need a-shaving. So much for that thought.

When I get inside, I see glass on the floor. It's from one of our cups. I don't know who or what broke the glass but the cup was placed on the coffee table. I'm still trying to find any residual shards so I don't get cut, but my concern is with Lulu. I'm guessing as the glass was on the floor, she has been chewing it. I'm worried she might have eaten glass. I'm scared if she did do so there is internal bleeding going on. I checked her over and didn't notice any cuts or anything in her mouth or on her body, but I still worry.

The other fear is that there are broken pieces of dog cookies on the floor. The cookies, however, are not cookies I've bought her. They're some other cookie I've never seen before. So maybe Jesse got her something from his work? I'm hoping that's the case. I don't like these fears I'm getting, and being a catastrophic thinker, right now the two thoughts going through my mind are that 1. she ate glass and is bleeding inside and 2. someone is giving her cookies and trying to poison her and I immediately think of Crazy Lady. I am so freaked out I can't wait till Jesse gets home because I need some answers!

***** UPDATE : CRAZY LADY *****

Ok, so maybe some of you know, some of you don't, but Crazy Lady is being evicted.

Around the time I moved in she told me Mark made her get rid of two of her other dogs. Then maybe a month ago she got a notice from the property managers saying if she didn't get rid of Dodger she would be evicted. She called them and gave them some sob story about how he's her protection and she's this lone widow, etc. etc. They told her she can keep the dog.

Well two weeks later, she gets an official eviction notice served to her. Apparently, Mark is having serious Dodger issues. Dodger jumped on his mom and got mud all over her white pants. The pizza guy wouldn't deliver to his apartment because Dodge wouldn't let him get into the door to the stairs. Legit complaints. But then there's also the noise complaint, the he gets off his leash and runs around the neighborhood complaint, and the new thing, the insurers of our apartment will not renew the insurance because they did research on the breeds of dogs living in the building and one of them has pitbull in it. In case I haven't mentioned it in the past, Dodger is a 60 lb. pit mix, but according to Crazy Lady he's a border collie-lab mix. Anyway, to futher aid Crazy Lady's theory of the world-is-out-to-get-her, all this stuff pretty much is evidence that her theory is true.

Crazy Lady hates Mark. She acts nice to him but talks a lot of shit about him. I guess he used to work for our property management company and because of this she claims he has a lot of pull with the property managers. Ironically enough, they seem pretty cool to us, the property managers. She said she has Dodger for security because they won't fix her windows or door. Yet I called them to fix our mini blinds, kitchen outlet, front door, etc. and they always come out for us so I have this theory she's not calling them for whatever reasons. Maybe she's doing something illegal and doesn't want them to see, who knows.

Anyway, basically she is being evicted now due to the dog situation. She started to pack her things and move some stuff over the weekend. Her butch friend "Cassie" has been helping her, however, is now refusing to help anymore because of Dodger. Basically they went somewhere and he was in the car, managed to get out of the car and hang by his choke chain, thus scratching up her car, which apparently had just got out of the shop from an accident that happened earlier.

Yesterday Jesse took me to work and came home for a bit before he went to work. When he was leaving, Crazy Lady asks him if he can help her move because "Cassie" won't help her anymore. (Read: I fucked up her car, now I'd like to fuck up yours.) Jesse was late to work because of her rambling. He even did one of those walking to his car hoping she would take a hint but she followed him, still rambling.

This morning Jesse took me to work again because he had to go pick up his check. While he was getting ready he was like "Crazy Lady is getting into it with someone." and we hear her, but don't exactly see her. It sounds almost like she's in one of the neighbor's apartments yelling at them, but we can't quite figure out which one she's in. I hear yelling but a lot of it isn't audible. I did pick up a few random lines like "well what has he ever done for you?" and something about her going to "beat the shit" out of someone. It sounded like a threat to possibly the person she was talking to? At this point, Jesse and myself agree we need to be very sly and sneak out so she doesn't notice us leaving and try to get us into her debate.

We walk out the door and hear her getting louder. Lulu runs to the bottom of the stairs. Then we see her. She see us waiting at the top of the stairs hiding from her. We've been spotted. Now the only thing to do is to walk down and hope she doesn't talk to us. This argument she's having, it's occuring over the phone. I'm talking full on yelling as if there were some serious face-to-face conflict type yelling. It's pretty intense. Anyway, we make it to the gate and I get to Jesse's truck and then it happens.

"Jesse! Can I count on you tomorrow to help me move later today?"

Crap. She's on the phone arguing and now talking to Jesse about helping her move.

"Actually, I can't. I have to get to work early today."

"Oh, shoot!" to us, and then to the phone "I'll call you back later."

Then the stalk-talk happens. Jesse tries to get to the truck "I gotta take Jen to work."

"Well Cassie was going to help with this and she has this deadbeat son who she just bought a truck for and pays his insurance and I need to get my washer out of storage and Cassie wants her air conditioner back and it doesn't even work its a worthless piece of crap...." and so it goes on and on, a bunch of irrelevant facts we don't have time to know about because at this point, I need to get to work.

Somehow, Jesse manages to get away from her and we go to my work. I know he has to pick up his check, cash it, and then doesn't go in till later. I'm just curious as to whether Crazy Lady is going to sucker him into helping her move. It sounded like if she doesn't get him to help today, she'd like him to help tomorrow. Basically the realtors are going to have the sherrif put a lock on her door soon if she's not out and do a forced eviction. I told Jesse I hope her new place is like a driving distance away because I would hate for her to be walking down the street and "visit". She's already made implications that she wants our phone number when she leaves as if she's going to be calling us regularly. She claims she wanted it so she can see if Mark still leaves for work early because she's going to try to get him fired.

Mark goes to work early and goes to sleep early. According to Crazy Lady he works for the City of Sparks doing some sort of heavy machinery operations. And according to Crazy Lady he comes home and "Drinks a 6 pack of imported beer and takes his mother's muscle relaxers and knocks out and falls asleep and operates heavy machinery the next day while on those medications." Ok, I'm no pharmaceutical expert, but I do know things of those sorts only last a few hours, hence the perscriptions tell you to take them every so many hours for best results. Even still, the guy operates heavy machinery. Who's to say he's not actually in pain from doing strenuous labor to where he needs them? Who's to say those are his mom's meds and not his? None the less, what the hell does she care? Mark comes home goes in his apartment and minds his own business. Mondays and Tuesdays his lady friend comes over. He doesn't bitch about things. He seems like a cool guy. He's the only decent person in that building aside from Jesse and myself. I don't think he's as nuts as Crazy Lady makes him out to be. Basically the woman is a nut. She thinks everyone is out to get her. Jesse was nice to her once and she latched on to him. She can sense I'm not really too thrilled with her. She'll talk to me out of desperation but not go all out like she does with Jesse.

I'm curious to see what kind of losers they get in there after she's gone.

******* BLOG UPDATE ********

Jesse left this comment on my myspace shortly after I finished writing this blog:

"So i get home and head up stairs with the pug dog.
i'm here for about 10 minutes and realize i need to go shave.
i'm in the bathroom when i here crazy lady tromping up the stairs and knock.
She then asks me if we can "switch cars"
What the fuck is she thinking!!!!!!!"

And the cool points for the day go to...

Dondero was talking about how his brother is a parole officer or what not and he has all these handguns and then he makes a gun w/ his hand (you know, index finger muzzle, rest of hand holding the imaginary hand grip?) Anyway, just as he motions this, his cell phone goes off. But that's the best part. His ring tone is The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly theme. So imagine that! His hands pointed a la gun, with that song playing in the background just as he does it. Talk about impeccable timing! It was too cool. I told him he gets all the cool points for the day and that I'd blog about it. So there it is, I kept my word, he's still the cool kid on campus. It'll be hard for anyone to top that one...

Monday, August 6, 2007


So I got into this debate, for lack of better words, about movies. I said I don't understand how so many people think certain movies are so great, and granted, I'm no film critic, this is just my personal opinion. For instance, I don't understand what so many people see in the movies Fight Club and Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas. Fight Club. I saw it. It was alright. I don't remember it word for word. I saw it like once. Fear & Loathing. I guess you can say I loathe it. It seems totally drug-induced and, being someone who has never used hard drugs or halucinogens, well, it makes no sense to me. Jesse says there's all these little "nuances" I need to pick up in order to enjoy it. I saw that movie a few times, actually. None of the times I watched it did I ever enjoy it. It was almost like I was being forced to watch it. And sometimes I feel like I have ADD when watching movies like that; I become restless, get up, get down, go pee, get a snack, look at my watch, try to find something interesting in the room I'm in, look at my watch again, etc. etc. It's just like how much longer till this is over? If I'm lucky I fall asleep. Point in being, I don't like movies where I hafta see like 20 other movies in order to pick up on your hipster references. Ok, so you can name drop things and throw in some sub-culture references, good for you. Here's a medal, stick it up your ass.

But ok, that's not my huge gripe. My gripe is that everyone I know or knew is a fucking buff at something or other. You're a movie buff. A music buff. A book buff. A fucking buff of all trades. I don't give a shit. What's wrong with just liking something and leaving it at that? At what point did everyone hafta get all psycho-in-depth about everything? Yea, it's cool to know about stuff. But this is fucking entertainment. You might as well fucking spend your time reading fucking People and Entertainment Weekly to catch up on everything else while you're at it. As far as I'm concerned, being THAT into movies or music or books puts you up there on the pedestal of tabloid-infatuists. Entertainment is not meant to be taken seriously.

According to

en·ter·tain·ment –noun
1. the act of entertaining; agreeable occupation for the mind; diversion; amusement: Solving the daily crossword puzzle is an entertainment for many.
2. something affording pleasure, diversion, or amusement, esp. a performance of some kind: The highlight of the ball was an elaborate entertainment.
3. hospitable provision for the needs and wants of guests.
4. a divertingly adventurous, comic, or picaresque novel.
5. Obsolete. maintenance in service.

All these art forms are simply diversions from reality to stimulate the mind into amusement. It's like junk food for the brain. Comic relief to the harshness of the world. For people to become so wrapped up in entertainment medias, well, that's basically like some form of denying reality.

I can understand if you like things like cars, sports, whatever, but to become so engulfed in movies, music, books, etc. it's just, I don't know. It's like these people take on these attitudes that because they know so much about something that somehow makes them better than others. Like you're not good enough because you can't catch the little references or that you don't find something enjoyable. Maybe I'm henpecking here, but I just don't see the point. I like movies. I like music. I even occasionally like a book or two. But I don't sit around fucking spewing out line for line of shit as if I've dedicated my life to it. Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I'm just jealous these people have such a dedication to entertainment that I lack and don't understand. I just don't like the feeling I get that I'm somehow uncultured for not knowing about something or the looks I get like I had bad parenting or something that I didn't see this or like I've been living under a rock for 25 years because I didn't have cable and don't remember whatever shows. I just don't care about things that much. I watch a movie and leave it at that. I don't remember lines. Fuck, I'm lucky if I can even remember a plot after a month. There's so much shit in my mind anyway that simple things others would find enjoyable I find as cloggers that take up space in my mental hard drive for other important stuff. It's like my brain is running Windows 95 while everyone else is on XP or even being brave and venturing enough to upgrade to Vista. Geekiness aside, my mind is a mind of moderation. Lots and lots and lots of moderation. A jack of all trades, master of none type mind. I know little bits of lots of stuff. Unfortunately most of the stuff I know little bits of are things a lot of people don't give two shits about. I could tell you all about how paper gets graded for weight, the stylistic traits of Sumerian reliefs, how to conjugate verbs in Spanish, how to build a HTML site from scratch code for code, or all the many uses of lemons, but in actuality, who really gives a shit about that? No one. People want to talk about what they know and are familiar with. They like those common bonds that they can use to connect with other people. People watch movies and listen to music. Unfortunately I have a case of fucked up priorities when it comes to inter-personal skills. So perhaps this isn't even so much about me not being able to stand the fact everyone I know is cultured more than they know what to do with in terms of entertainment, but that I don't know how to interact with others. Granted, I could tell you I don't know how to interact with others a long time ago. I mean, I pretty much knew this up till the time I started school. I had a hard time meeting other kids and I still do have hard times meeting people. If it weren't for the fact I had a job, I wouldn't know anyone out here! I know my brain doesn't work the way it should. I don't need people to point that out to me. But I also don't need people treating me like I'm shit just cos I don't know dick when it comes to entertainment.

All tv, movies, music, and books are ... well... they're lowest common denominators. They're the tie that binds. Whether you're rich or poor, black or white, all people enjoy those things. It's like they'll talk about movies, bands, whatever for lack of anything else interesting to talk about. Not a day goes by that someone doesn't make some sort of lame ass pop culture reference to something. And it's everywhere. TV, radio, news, friends, work, everywhere. You can't avoid it. It's no wonder fucking actors make so much money when people have allowed them to become so goddamn popular and for what? So they can feel like they live vicariously on screen through some overpaid douchebag who's probably an asshole in real life? I feel like I'm getting abstract and I probably am. It's late. I'm cranky. I fucking hate that people can't just enjoy shit for the sake of enjoying it, they hafta make a "thing" out of it. It's like it's not good enough as is, it has to be more. Why can't people just be happy with what they've got? Is that too much to ask for?

Somebody get me a drink!!!

Today was a bad day that started off yesterday:

1. Prelude to a Burning Man.

Some local nuts thought they'd celebrate Hot August Nights, a month long festival in Reno dedicated to classic cars and trucks, by hosting a Burning Man night downtown. A group of maybe 30 weirdos hosted it. There were these random silver tin stack things, a dj who played like bad Pink Floyd remixes, and they were all trying to get the crowd of 100 something confused spectators to dance with them. Not surprisingly enough, no one wanted to dance with them. Reason being they were all freaks.

I can spend an entire blog classifying these freaks, but I won't delve too much into this simply because I'm trying to make dinner and I'm in a bad mood, but some of the delectable freaks included the scantily clad slutty art chicks, the scantily clad 40 something fat chicks, the scantily clad androginous mystery sex, and the scantily clad homo dudes. Basically it seemed like a lot of failed artists who never really amounted to anything more than racking up mommy and daddy's money going to art school or like weekend warrior business people who cut loose and go all out. Basically it was further proof as to why I have 1. never gone to Burning Man, and 2. never want to go to Burning Man.

Anyway with those weirdos aside, we did get a few people to dance. They were all creepy weirdos just like their dancing hosts. There was the guy who was trying to get laid by the scantily clad art chicks, the fat tourist ladies who thought that by wobbling on the dance floor they would either somehow be cooler or cause some action on the richter scale, then there were the stoner kids who walked out there as if they thought they were going to score drugs and then walked back off in disappointment upon realizing they couldn't score drugs.

Jesse and I could only stomach watching like 15 minutes of that bullshit before having to leave.

2. Things that go BUMP in the night

Well, wouldn't you know it, the tweakers came home last night after being gone since Friday. They returned with kids. I'm not sure but I think the tweaker lady has kids with someone somewhere and brings them home with her every now and then a la split custody. Anyway, last night Jesse and I were watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and it was maybe 10:30 at night. I kept hearing all this bumping and thumping around downstairs that sounded like someone was building furniture and moving it around on the ceiling. It was very disruptive to no only our movie but when we wanted to go to sleep.

3. Stalemate

I correct myself. My bad day today started off Saturday night. I had a really bad stomach ache followed by diarrhea then. Last night whilst watching the movie, I had this horrible horrible craving for sweets. The night before was the same. Saturday night at night I was eating muffins like they were going out of style. Last night I was eating stale cake and lemonade. It was a horrible combo but it did the job.

4. Blood In, Blood Out

I get to work today and I'm doing my thing. I go to the bathroom in the morning and lo and behold, I have my period. Ok, so it's not that bad. It means I'm not going to have any babies any time soon, but it is bad because I don't have a tampon. I thought I did but I didn't. I go up to one of my coworkers and they're like "Do you need some help?" and I was like "Yes, I need a tampon. That's kinda like needing help, right?" And I get hooked up with a tampon and life is peachy again.

5. Hell Bent For Leather

I didn't drive to work today. Jesse drove me. I walked to his work to get a ride home, after looking at guns for a bit. I like the Taurus ultralight revolvers. I kinda want to get one but Jesse says they're kinda goofy because of the lightweight, but it can be cured with special ammo. Anyway, he drives me home on his late lunch break, and we come home to a bunch of my crap chewed up on the floor. My glasses case is on the floor, broken, chewed up. Ray Ray is on the floor, out of the bedroom, chewed on no doubt. And one of my favorite shoes which I wear to work religiously with the exception of today because my feet were cold. It was chewed. It was destroyed. Jesse's shoes, which reside right next to mine, were left unharmed. It's as if Lulu has a personal vendetta against me and my possessions. I was pissed. I gave her a whuppin' so she'd know not to mess with Mama's stuff. She was all sad afterwards and didn't want to spend any time with us, but that's over now. She got over it quickly. Anyway I was pissed because she's destroyed like $200 worth of Mommy's shoes. Daddy gives Mommy crap for wanting to buy shoes and this is exactly why.

I'm just really frustrated right now. I'm crampy. I'm bleeding out the crotch. My shoes are destroyed. I don't know if Jesse's gonna loan me money to get my hair done Saturday, so I might need to reschedule that. I just feel so frustrated right now. I want a night where I don't hafta cook or do dishes and just have someone pamper me or something. I want to lay on a bed of fluffy clouds in a 72 degree room with big fluffy blankets and soft lighting and snuggle up with Jesse or something. I just feel gross and I almost barfed today because I forgot how painful my periods were when I'm not on the pill.

Sunday, August 5, 2007

No patience for the closet

I just spent God only knows how long fighting with the closet to work. It's always the same side, my side, that chooses to not want to be on the rail or whatever the hell it's supposed to follow to function properly. I get one part on but the other doesn't want to follow. Finally I get it to work right after nearly kicking the whole goddamn door in. I have zero patience for that closet. It's not fair either! I always go into the closet every day! Jesse usually goes in there once in a blue moon because most of his stuff he keeps in the drawer. It frustrates me that I deal with this on a daily basis. I was pretty convinced for a while there that I had totally broken the closet. Luckily, after chipping much paint and working up a sweat, I got it to go back to where it should go. I'm mad at the closet now. I'm ignoring him.


Yesterday Jesse and I had to go to the used food store (the Grocery outlet, also aka, the G.O.) I had to get some green onions for our pork fried rice. Anyway since we were in that general area, I thought I'd introduce him to Savers. They have high end and top quality used stuff. Anyway, we were looking at suits for Jesse. We found a skinny black tie for him, but didn't have the $4 for it (we're sans-cash till Tuesday.) Anyway, I saw this mint green love seat and chair set I'd like to get for our apartment as well as an organ. The organ is the size of my computer desk and has the double row keyboard. It's $130 and includes the bench. I told Jesse if it's still there by September 15th, I will buy it. Anyway, that's not why I decided to write this blog. The point of this blog is to tell about the Mexican kid who was inside Savers when we got in there. He was maybe like 10? He had one of those boring buzz cuts that was maybe like an inch long all over. At the top of his head in the back was a long strand ponytail type thing that grew down to his shoulder blades. I can't imagine why anyone would allow their child to have hair like that but to help show what it looked like I've done some random photoshop work. Personally, if I were feeling more up to saving the world I would have called child services for child abuse because no one in their right mind would allow that to happen to their kid.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Taco flavored kisses???

It's kinda sad how small things in life excite me. Yesterday I made Jesse a chicken stir fry for dinner but didn't use all the chicken because there was a lot of chicken. We had this theory we would just use the rest of the chicken to make something tomorrow. Yesterday Jesse really wanted super burrito chicken tacos for dinner. Anyway, tonight I walked to the store to get some taco fixin's. I also scored a deal on a watermelon. I don't really think about things when I do them, so I was stuck walking home with a 12 pound watermelon in one hand and a bag of taco fixin's in the other. I'm starting to regret the fact I didn't get refried beans... Dammit. I wonder if they sell those at the Sev??? I'll just call Jesse to pick some up or something...

Anyway, I get home and I start cutting up the lettuce and tomatoes. Boil the chicken etc. etc. I guess I'm just excited about having tacos for dinner. I don't know why either. I mean it's just tacos. And I'm not even gonna eat them, I'm just gonna have a chicken taco salad. I think I'm just happy cos I know Jesse wanted tacos and I'm making them for him.