Real World List

Hey Peeps!

Okay, so here goes.  The last two weeks have been the worst of my entire life... and I'm not joking, or emphasizing, or dramatizing, or exaggerating (all of which I usually do on a regular basis).  I have had to handle so many "adult" things this week, I feel like I'm 47, rather than 25.  No one wants to feel 47 at the age of 25.  Ever. EVER.

I want to go on record and call myself out on the fact that when bad things happen, I have the tendency to hibernate (my friend Thelma called me out on this last week while *the bad shit* was going down) so today at dinner, Thelma and I decided that I needed to get some things done in an attempt to make myself feel better and not go into hibernation mode.

Before we came up with this list, however, I STILL managed to get some things done... not a lot, but something more than just "wake up" (which I think I should get a gold star for... someone feel free to send one).*

The List goes as follows:

*Val's Real World To-Do List*
-Buy water bottle for Jasper (rabbit)
-Send out Job Applications/Resumes
-Look into Substitute Teaching Licence
-Buy Shorts/ Flip Flops
-Clean Squirt (car)
-Get Squirt fixed (so it stops overheating everyday)
-Fill out unemployment paperwork
-Pick up final paycheck from Rec
-Pick up check from BN
-Go to the Bank

I am going to attempt to do some of these list items tomorrow, but I'm pretty sure the only one I'm really going to enjoy is "Buy Shorts/ Flip Flops"...

Love stinks.

I wanted to submit this post to keep you Peeps entertained while I'm being forced to handle a lot of adult things that are really above my pay grade.

I was sparked with an idea to write about my experience with unrequited love after having stalked read Didactic Pirate's story of unrequited love.  He really inspired me to share my idiocy, no offense, Sir Pirate.

I was, and still am, a sucker for L'amour.  Any sort of door holding, flower giving, chivalry, white horse, fairytale shit, I love it.  Bring it on.  It will bring tears to my eye and add an extra size to my heart.

Now, when I was in high school, I really thought that I was in love with a boy named Steven.  He was a friend, a part of "the group".... and oh, yeah, he was interested in my cousin Kelli.  (This is after I had gotten over the fact that I was smitten with my sister's boyfriend, too.  I know, I need therapy.)

I suffered in silence, not one to interrupt Steven's attempt at love with Kelli.  I sat with it all summer until August, when it was time for Steven to go back to South Carolina... here is where my idealistic views of love and romance come in...

I wrote out my feelings.  I cried my heart out about why he should want to be with me, because we would be cute together, I would give him massages, we could hold hands, and watch movies, and things would be rainbows and butterflies!  (well, not butterflies, cuz they scare me.)  I really thought that my idea was going to be romantic, he'd get tears in his eyes, his heart would swell too, and we'd run off into the sunset together in my Chevy Corsica.

Did I mention that I wrote this all out on post-its, and stuffed it into his High School Jacket pocket while he was sleeping?

Yeah... I was that girl.  (Don't try to deny it, I know you all did some pathetic things, too... feel free to share)

Hey peeps.

Hey Peeps,

This isn't a real post, so apologies for any excitement I may have caused with my presence.  I just wanted to put it out there that my mom passed away two days ago and that I might not be around for a little while... but that does NOT mean that you are allowed to forget about me.  I will be very upset with you.

Just so that you don't think I bailed too much, I had a smidge of a rant to share with you:

Why is it that EVERYONE asks, once they hear that she passed, am I okay?  Yes, I'm so fucking okay that I'm pissing glitter and running with unicorns.  We're having a party and all are invited.  No, I'm not okay.  My mom was taken from me tragically and unexpectedly.  I am not okay.  What's worse is that I feel obligated to respond with "I'm okay" or "I'm fine" because I don't want to make the question-asker even more uncomfortable with my "No, I want to crawl in a hole and die, myself" response.  Grrr.

Be back soon, I hope.

Sunshine (w/ a chance of cloudyness for some future forecasts)

'Thanks again"

IndieInk challenge once again! This is my fourth post, and I was challenged by Karla V.  My buddy, Alyssa, answered my specific challenge on her blog. 

***

Being in her house is a sad and punishing affair. I knew it would be hard, to get on without her, but I wasn't prepared for the struggle that was before me.

I walked through the door and into the hallway, carefully closing the door behind me. I made sure to double check all the locks, knowing that she’d remind me to do so if she were here. She’s always had confidence in me, but treated me with kid gloves anyway. I laughed as I glanced at the alarm pad, remembering the time I brought her home drunk and was petrified that I’d set the alarm off in the middle of the night and alert her father to our reckless abandon. I asked her for the code, but she gave me the pin to her Debit Card instead.

I stopped in the kitchen to fill the bowls of food for the kids, the three felines that she rescued from homelessness during a thunderstorm years ago. They were good kids, rarely getting into fights, but they made messes with their food. She was always cleaning up after one of their spills. I can still hear her yelling, “Mario!” as he’d step in his food bowl and knock the yellow pellets onto the carpet. She’d pretend to be mad, but then just laugh as he gave her a look, one that meant he knew what he was doing, but was too cute to get in trouble. It’s true, though; he was too cute to ever get in trouble.

I did the dishes in the sink, the one chore that she really hated. I couldn’t leave them, knowing how much it irked her to see them pile up, so I took the five minutes necessary and made sure everything was neat and tidy. I knew she would have appreciated it, had she known I’d done it.

I walked up the stairs, holding onto the banister and looking at the pictures of her family, the same ones that I’ve been looking at for six months. I feel like they are a part of my family, and yet, I stare at them again, like I’ve never seen them before. I take a minute to memorize the pictures of her grandparents, on their wedding day, in the ugly brass frame that comes from another time. The picture of her mom’s favorite dog. The people that I feel like I know, but don’t.

I opened the door to her room, like I’ve done a hundred times, and it hits me again that she’s gone. I miss her more than words can say. I’ve cried everyday for a week. I don’t want to be in here without her.

Something on the bed catches my eye; I’ve got the room memorized, I know when something is amiss.
I sit on the bed, knowing that what I find here will not be very pleasant. There is a letter addressed to me:

Hey Val,
Thanks for coming to feed the kids while I’m away. Don’t forget to water the plants, too, okay?
Also, do you think you can pick up and deposit my paycheck on Thursday? I’m going to need the money in my account while I’m in California. Stay at the house as much as you want, but make sure you lock the door when you leave. I’ve left you a key so you don’t have to go searching for the spare.
Also, don’t set off the alarm, or my dad will have a fit.  I’ll be home on the 18th.
Thanks again,
Lisa


I shake my head as I re-read the letter, already knowing that I've got to get to the bank before it closes.  She owes me, I think to myself as I close the door and head down the stairs.


***
Prompt:  Being the tool of somebody else's bidding can be a sad and punishing affair. For your challenge, write a piece (fiction or not) about a situation in which you are the one doing someone else's bidding. What are the circumstances? Why are you doing this? How do you feel? What is next?

Guest Blogger on Jumble Mash!

Hey there, peeps.  FYI - I was a guest blogger at Jumble Mash!  Go find her, stalk her, love her as I do, and follow her =)

Slacker

{What if you were going to lose your job tomorrow?}

I feel pretty slacker-ish as of late.

I'm not a slacker (for the most part) but I am facing some difficult times ahead.  Tomorrow is my last day at the job I've held for almost seven years and, although it's a Friday and I'll be going home for the weekend, I'm pretty terrified about what I'm going to do come Monday morning.  I've never faced unemployment before.  What if I never find a decent* job?

I have a lot of people in my life that are trying to keep me "Glass is half-full" lately, and I really do appreciate it.  I really am trying to convince myself remind myself of all the good things I've got going for me (like my car hasn't puffed it's last puff of black smoke, or that I'm relatively healthy, or that I am not Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas), but it has a way of sneaking up on me when I least expect it. 

I'm not going to lie - I sort-of, maybe, kind of, have been making a list of the things that I am going to do come Monday (not really Monday as in the day after Sunday, but as in the first day that I don't have to get up at 6:30 a.m. to get ready for work).

I intend on:
-keeping my room ridiculously neat/organized
-going to the doctor, now that I don't have to take off of work to do it
-cleaning out my car
-running errands that don't seem to be able to happen after 5pm
-trying to find a better, more satisfying job

There is more, but the deprression-monster is rearing it's ugly head again.

Does anyone have any advice?

*meaning not at the Drive-Thru at McDonalds.

An Awkward Moment

It is IndieInk Writing Challenge time again!

This week, week #3 for me, I was challenged by Transplantedx3: "You seem to have very eclectic taste in books - take 1 character each from your top 3 favorite books - put them in an elevator - write the scene." I found this pretty challenging due to the fact that most of my favorite characters are actually superheroes/magic/uberstrong/extremely sci-fi and could bust out of an elevator in about 30 seconds. Also, my challenge was expertly answered by Fina, which can be found here.

An Awkward Moment

Meet me in New York City, she says!  As if coming half way across the world is so easy.  Okay, so it might be a little easy, seeing as how I can Apparate when and where I want, for the most part.  Still, I’d really rather have had her come to me, but she’d just tell you that it’s because I’m lazy.  I’m not lazy, just a bit underhanded; I blame my brothers.  Thanks a lot, Hermione.  Now I’m trapped here in the yelly-vator in the dark, without my wand, in a building that looks like a steel pencil, with two strange muggles.

Okay, one doesn’t look that strange, but the other one is frightening.  Seriously, she’s got a spiked collar around her neck that I thought only dogs used.  I want to say she’s a female muggle, but she kind of looks like a teenage boy with “issues”.  There is black eye makeup that Hermione would shudder from and her hair is sticking up in straight points.  She’s got more leather than Hagrid’s winter coat, but she’s about the size of Ginny’s pigmy puff, Arnold.

The pretty girl seems as nervous as I am.  Maybe I should attempt to be a gentleman and introduce myself.  I wish Harry were here.  He’s much better at manners than I am.  It’s not that I don’t want to be polite; I just don’t seem to have the ability.  If Harry were here, he’d just open his mouth and charm the pants right off her with his “Chosen One” routine. 

Here goes nothing.

“So… Uhh… Whatsyername?” I mumbled.  Of course I mumbled! Leave it to me to ruin even the most basic question.

 “My name is Sookie Stackhouse, pleasure to meet you.  What’s your name?”

“I’m Ron.  Ron Weasley.”

She smiles a little, but doesn’t make much eye contact with me.   I think she’s waiting for the other person to introduce themselves, and I want to tell her not to hold her breath.  We both turned to look at the creepy one, wondering if we were going to get a name from… is it a boy or a girl?  I really don’t know, and that’s not just my rudeness coming out.  I’m going to have to ask Hermione again why muggle girls think it’s fashionable to put holes in their face.  Honestly, it’s very unnecessary.  And Ugly.

I am still waiting for Freaky to acknowledge us. 

She refuses to make eye contact with either one of us.  I don’t really care, because she’s more frightening than You-Know-Who, but I think Sookie expects to get an answer.  Sookie seems really innocent.  She keeps shifting her eyes from me to freaky girl, expecting us to say more.  I think I’ll wait.

Sookie turns back to me, in what I can only assume is an attempt at distraction, and says “You doin’ okay there, Ron?”  I just stare at her for a moment before I nod my head.  I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll say something like, “No, I’m not okay. I’m stuck in a metal box, hanging seventeen floors in the air, only hanging on by a cable that is probably old and fraying and we’re going to die here, whether we either fall to our death, or Freaky Freakerson over here will kill us while we blink!”

I wonder if Sookie can tell I’m a wizard?  She keeps looking at me, trying to see ‘past’ me, if that makes any sense.  I try to give myself the once over, to make sure my shirt’s not on backward or something, but I think everything is in order.  How embarrassing would it be if I’m sitting here trying to play it cool but my zipper’s undone?  They’d take the Mickey for sure.

I feel like we’ve been in this box for days.  This is ridiculous.

Wait.  Freaky’s getting up.  “What are you going to do?” Sookie asks her.

Freaky doesn’t answer, but continues staring at the ceiling.  She’s being rude.  I know rude, and she’s definitely being rude.  “Oye,” I say, “You’re acting very rude.”

She turns sharply towards me to glare, but goes right back to examining the ceiling.  Finally, she says, “I’ve had enough of this,” and no kidding, wedges herself against the door walls, pops open a hatch on the roof, and hoists herself out.

She leans her head through the hatch and, in an accent belonging to another continent, she says, “Lisbeth Salander”. 

Then, she is gone.



Saturday Night Epidemic

I recently witnessed an epidemic.

Two of my friends and I met up for dinner last night, and afterwards we decided to have a night on the town!!

Now, I know what you're thinking... dancing, drinks, wine'n'dine, shmoozing, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous, that is the kind of glamorous lady I portray... 

... but you'd be wrong.

Last night, I went to Bingo.

(No jokes.)

Bingo is a great time.  I, myself, have been known to attend bingo a time or two in the past, but for reasons unknown, I'd strayed away.  It's cheap, relatively simple and something different from the usual movies or bowling, but if you're not used to it, you could find yourself in "culture shock".  You see, normal as these people might be by day, when the magic bingo hour falls upon them, the locals become wild, ruthless, and savage.

The hall was packed; seats were hard to come by, especially three next to each other.  None of the regulars, who are already in their *zone* appreciate being bothered.  They will not move to help you find a seat.  They will not adjust their things to give you more space.  However, we managed to make it work.  (Lisa and I got two seats together, but Dani had to try and squeeze past a large man (who had long hair like a woman), whose stomach hung over the table, by taking a running leap!)

The lady that I sat next to was not a pleasant woman.  She had all her boards and blotters set out in front of her, but she had more than enough room, so I put my stuff down next to her to get situated.  About half way through the game she turns to me and says, "Don't move over any closer, baby".  I turned to look at her, held my tongue, and said, "Uh.. oh... okay" because I didn't want to turn into a savage like the rest of them.

Later on, though, this lady had her hand resting over MY boards, to the point where I had to dot around her hand!  Well, let me tell you, I got the last laugh* on that one because I dotted her hand... OH YES, I DID. (And Dani was there to protect me)

Here is where the epidemic comes in.

The not-nice-lady sitting next to me had some interesting artifacts placed in front of her that I didn't notice when I sat down...

Elephant Statues

Um.  What? 

This isn't the worst of it.  The lady (whose mustache rivaled the previously mentioned 'man whose belly hung over the table') on the other side of Dani had full-bodied elephant statues!!!!  

Full-Bodied Elephant Statues = Epidemic

I know that elephants are supposed to represent knowledge... but what are they gonna do for you at bingo?

*****

*I did get the last laugh... I won (sans elephants) and she didn't!  

Bite me, lady.

Silver Mind Control

Yesterday, while eavesdropping minding my own business, I overheard possibly the best conversation ever in the entire world.  I don't think I could make this up if I tried.

I'm going to set the stage for you.

I am sitting at my desk, chatting and conversing on the computer while successfully avoiding paperwork.  Henry, my "custodial engineer" is sitting at the desk in front of me.  Debbie (whose name has been changed to protect the dim-witted) is standing on the other side of the desk from Henry.

They are chatting about the movie "Limitless" w/ Bradley Cooper.

aaaand "Action!"

Henry:  That movie was really somethin'.  He got so smart!
Debbie:  I know, it was a very good movie.
Henry:  You know, it's really somethin' how he uses 100% of his brain like that... you think that it's possible?
Debbie:  Oh, sure! You don't need a pill for that.
Henry:  How would someone do something like that?
Debbie:  You need to learn Silver Mind Control.
Henry:  Do they sell that at the grocery store?

(I'll hold while you digest that)


..........................


(okay, let's resume)

As if that weren't bad enough, the end of their conversation went like this:

Henry:  Where's your puppy?  You haven't brought him in a while...
Debbie:  Oh, he's so vocal!
Henry:  Vocal?
Debbie:  He's too loud... I think he's a human being, reincarnated... he has been so vocal lately, I just know he's trying to tell me something, but I don't speak his language yet.

Unbelievable.  Doesn't get much better than that.