I think everyone knows one of these...

You're terribly spoiled. The worst part is that you don't even realize it, instead, you are cursed with a sense of entitlement. You air your problems with a great deal of exaggeration and when you overcome them (often at the aid of your family) you feel as if you have truly struggled and overcome... even if it is something trivial that the rest of us deal with on a daily basis. And you expect applause and praise. You have your moments of kindness towards others, but they are so overshadowed by your rudeness, abrasiveness and narcissism...

You've hurt my feelings many times and I don't like you. But you don't bother to pay attention anyway. There's no sense in rebuilding a friendship that never really existed.

I honestly hope that you have not been impaired by the low standards set for you. By praising your small accomplishments, you have a false sense that these same accomplishments are huge... when in reality they are simply stepping stones. I know that the behaviors you exhibit are a product of years of coddling. I wish everyone would have had higher expectations for you rather than the "well, we're just glad you made it this far" mentality.

I would love to talk to you, perhaps give you another perspective, and get you out of the ditch they've dug for you. But you cannot see past your own reflection at this point. Have you ever asked yourself why everyone seems to know you so well, but of those people, there are some you hardly even know?

I want you to strive for more, keep going on this path that you have so recently stalled upon. I want you to grow.

I want you to grow up.

My biggest college accomplishment so far...

So without going into great detail about how much I had been dreading this morning....
I ran 1.5 miles in 19:55 minutes. Before the run, he coach announced that the cutoff was 20 minutes, to which some people responded, "Isn't that just walking?"

No, it's not, bitch.

19:55 minutes. Yes, that's slow, and yes, I got lapped by almost everyone else on the rowing team, and yes, I made it very apparent that I was hating it by my loud sighs and "i'm too old for this shit!" mutterings, but dammit, I made it. I could barely run a 15 minute mile in high school, so this was a big thing for me. And I had to do this at 6:15 am, which makes this the earliest I've woken up since living in Davis.

I hope to never have to do it again. (the running part... well, maybe even the waking up early part too.)

I'm going back to bed.

Awkward...

Do you ever say things that sound completely different than what you were going for? I do this from time to time... and I was just thinking about it. It tends to happen when I'm meeting new people, especially when it's 1 on 1. Last week, I was chatting with my neighbor in her living room and she was telling me about the great price she got on her new sofa. This thing was so plush and delicious looking -- I could just imagine the amazing naps to be had on that thing. So how did I compliment her sofa?
"It looks really nappy."
Uh, what?
You know! Nap-y. As in nap like. Not dreadlocks nappy. I managed to explain what I meant and things were fine, but it did produce the need to slap my forehead after I left.

I also remember telling someone that I am a pain in the ass sometimes. Realizing that I just somewhat insulted myself and that no one likes negative people, I corrected by saying, "Well I'm a good pain in that ass." WHAT? Now I sound like an anal fiend. If I were a guy, that would have been borderline creepy sounding.

I hope I'm not the only one.

EZ Lube Sucks

New carpet today! So exciting. The house is going to look more normal and I get to take a break from sweeping concrete on a daily basis. And better yet, the ferrets will get to play and explore around in my room... something I avoided letting them do because of abundance of dust on the cement floors.

The carpet padding is placed only after exceeding a high rating on the "Diego Comfort Scale".

So the EZ Lube drama continues. I am now taking them to small claims court since they have repeatedly ignored me. They really just don't care. Also, when figuring out who exactly I was suing, I found some inconsistencies with the name of the business and how they were listed on the Bureau of Automotive repairs and their business license. Just some shady stuff. My original court date was Sept 4th, however this needed to be changed because the parties have not been able to be served; so the summons now have to be mailed, which requires a month notice. So we're looking at anytime after the 14th of next month. Let's keep in mind that my Davis move-in date is Sept 10th. School starts the 25th. This is really a thorn in my side. The last thing I want to do (but will have to do, apparently) is move up there and fly back here for a stupid court date. This is all going to be very interesting.

So I was at my attorney's office and he mentioned that a friend of his had called -- the exact same thing happened to him! Same place, same song and dance -- EVERYTHING. Except he's a locksmith, and they ruined his van. When he mentioned his name, it sounded familiar. So I looked him up and called him. I introduced myself, then added, "I think you may have known my father..." and before I finished my sentence, he exclaimed, "You bet I DID! I watched you grow up and..." What a small world it can be sometimes. We're having dinner tonight to catch up and reminisce. My father was quite the character, the amount of people that knew him never fails to amaze me. Couple that with his love of talking about the daughter he ws raising on his own... there are a ton of people that have watched me grow up. It's a nice feeling.

So now that there's two of us, there's more proof that this isn't just some crazy random mistake. Who knows how many other people have had mechanical failures or had their cars downright ruined due to a simple, yet costly mistake.

Don't go to EZ-Lube.

Primitive living in a modern world

It's a hearty broth of anger, frustration and confusion, with a dash of worry, a few pieces of hopelessness, served in a dread bowl. Cause dread rhymes with bread. And that's funny to me at this point. That's how bad things are.

Here's the scene: My home looks like a construction site, things are either in storage or in a mysterious pile in the kitchen that no map could ever define. So my belongings are either limited or their location unknown. (Imagine spending more time trying to find a pen than it would have taken to craft such a useful tool.)
My refrigerator is no more. I really should clean it out, as this procrastination is not a worthy opponent to the disintegration that is occurring in there. My only method of cooking is a microwave. So that limits my diet to non perishables that are simply reheated in their own container, since I don't have any dishes.
I also have no means of transportation. A few months ago, I took my truck to EZ Lube to have the oil changed, and they somehow interpreted it as taking the oil out and sending me on my merry way -- until my car sounded like a washing machine. The dealership confirmed that they had ruined my engine, so for the past two months it's been this back and forth of them trying to take my vehicle to "their" mechanic, assuring me that I'd get a great replacement, then later finding out with the help of my glorious attorney that they were just going to put a junk engine in it all along. My truck is sitting at the dealership, untouched. EZ Lube has been paying for my rental for the past 2 months, which I know has cost them over $3,000 so far -- and they are now not so keen on paying it for another month, which means I need to take the car back until an agreement is reached. I'm taking it back on an empty tank, because there is no way in hell that I am going to spend the last money I have on a tank of gas. They can bill me later when things are not so tight.
So I'm relying on public transportation, which isn't too bad -- just time consuming. The stops are usually a good distance from my destination, which added to the 100+ degree weather, makes me need to be extremely motivated to be going wherever I'm going.

I still don't think I have it that bad, I just wonder how all this happens so quickly.
I don't like that it puts me in this terrible state of mind, especially when I am trying to figure out my future -- September is approaching very quickly. Will my house sell? Will I be able to afford a place? Do I need to find homes for my kids?
I'm hoping that I'm standing too close and that I cannot see the whole picture.

My last day at work is on Friday, thankfully. I'm taking Mrs. Socks in at some point to have some growths removed and her tail worked on, all with my last minute employee discount. I'm excited about that, but also trying to figure out how I'll get her there to have it all done.

AAAAAAAND my deaf male ferret has started becoming aggressive with my two older females, one who is blind and the other who is bald. I'm not sure if he's trying to be aggressive; he just gets on them and starts grooming them very vigorously, then chomps into them. They scream and he can't hear them, so he keeps doing it -- resulting in injured ears and terrified ladies. So now I've got him locked up in a spare bedroom. MEN.

So those are all the outside factors that are making my life just a tad bit less convenient than usual.

And I'm my normal mess, father's day is coming up and with all the decisions that are being made, I'm needing him more than ever before. It's been a lonely time for me. I'm a creature of affection, and right now I lack an emotional or physical closeness to anyone, and it's slowly tearing me down inside. I'm just walking through this maze with no real desire to find the end. It's great that I got accepted to school -- but as of right now, I'm content with that accomplishment. If I go, then great, but quite honestly, I am so tired of life.
It's interesting, because I can remember my grandmother telling me that my mother used to feel the same way -- She said she didn't want to live to be old, because it was something she didn't look forward to. She lived to be 35. It's not a suicidal thought, but something else... what can we call it? Danielle could come up with a term for it, I'm sure. Sometimes I think that I carry a degree of that; I just don't want to be around anymore, but it's not up to me to make that happen. It's upsetting because there are people fighting to live -- and I'd give them my life in a second if it were transferable.
It's not as dark as it sounds, really... I just feel like a spectator to everything that is happening. If it works out, that's great, and if it doesn't -- I'll make due.

And I re-read this and it doesn't even sound like the person I was, or the person I'd like to be. I don't know what to do about this. It just doesn't seem like a way to live.

What's Wrong?

Mark left yesterday morning.

Someone needs to write a manual for me, entitled, How to survive a long distance relationship without wanting to stay in bed all day clutching a shirt that your love accidentally left behind that still retains their smell.

I know that i'll get through this, again, and that Mark will be back soon.
This knowledge does nothing for me. I'm really bummed out.

I spend a month falling even more in love with him, and then he has to go. So now I have to package away these feelings for another month or so; I have to get out of my in love state of mind and just grit my teeth and get through the time that he's not here.

I haven't talked to him since he left... a few text messages here and there, but no actual conversation on the phone. I just can't do it. Every time I think about him, my eyes well up with these pesky tears and I feel this obnoxious wrenching in my heart and in less than 30 seconds, I end up looking like a tomato. It's a terrible mess.

But in all seriousness, I'm tired. It's hard to ride this roller coaster of extreme emotions. I don't want to be sad anymore. I just want him to be here.... or anywhere with me. I don't like spending all my energy on myself; I don't like making dinner just for me or shopping for groceries that are just going to be consumed by me... or sleeping in a bed that only contains me. I can do it, but I just don't like it. ESPECIALLY because I'm lucky enough to have found someone that I'd like to do these things with for the rest of my life. I'm very fortunate... but why does it have to feel so terrible?

keep busy keep busy

I think I'll go on a Mother/Son hike with Diego tomorrow. I could definitely use the exercise.

As for now... I've got a shirt to sniff.

"Vanity keeps persons in favor with themselves who are out of favor with all others"

Someone who is more a business acquaintance than a friend asked me if I could drop her off at the hospital and pick up her up later because she was having surgery. The way she described it made it sound like she was fixing some medical condition, so I happily agreed. She didn't really want anyone else to know that she was having surgery, not even her son. RED FLAG. Whatever. Then she mentions that she is also having a laser peel at the same time... she's taking a week off of work so she might as well have a peel, right?
So of course, I googled "laser peel" so that I'd have an idea of what she was about to put herself through, and when I started telling her what to expect, she told me she didn't want to know. RED FLAG. And when I questioned her about the original procedure, she said she didn't really know and didn't really want to know. RED FLAG.

On the way to her appointment, she told me that upon picking her up, the nurses would probably insist that I stay with her for the first 24 hours... and just to tell them that I would. But not to worry, "just drop me off at home." umm... okay. Say it with me, folks: RED FLAG.

So four hours pass and I get the call from the nurse -- she's ready. I sit out front in the car and wait.

And there she is, this tiny framed woman with the largest head I have ever seen. She's wrapped up and her face looks like she spent the day with a boxing kangaroo. Pink and swollen and shiny from multiple layers of vaseline, she's dazed and she looks like hell. She's so puffy that she can't blink or move her face at all. She looks like an alien in a wheelchair.

I get her home and into bed, do all the things for her that she can't do for herself, help her take her pills and then go fetch more water from the kitchen. I come back to the room and she's snoring. Her eyes are open and she's snoring. Mrs. Tomato Head is sleeping with her eyes open. Later I find out from the pleasant woman on the phone that this is completely normal and that she's loaded with goop so that her eyes won't dry out. Lovely.

So now what? What do I do? I had no idea it would be so bad, I felt compelled to stay just in case she were to wake up disoriented and heaven forbid she trip and fall and land on her ballooning face... but I didn't sign up for this. I was her ride, not her nurse, and I'm not THAT close to this woman. I couldn't call anyone to stay with her because I couldn't think of anyone that would. It was... sad.

I went home, fought with myself for a while because even though she didn't inform me that I'd need to be her nurse, I'm still a human being and I help when I can. But she's an adult. She should have known what she was getting herself into. It was unfair to hold myself responsible for her well being.. right?

I didn't go back until this morning to take her to her post operative appointment, and she was fine. A little less swollen, but still unrecognizable. While she was in getting bandages changed, I asked a few questions and came to find out that she had just had herself a facelift.

A FACELIFT! And a very expensive one, at that.

I could have taken her out back and beat the living hell out of her and she'd look exactly the same, all for free.

So what bothers me is that she really didn't need it in the first place. She put herself in such a terrible condition for this cosmetic procedure that she really didn't need, just to have a slight difference afterwards? And I understand that she didn't want anyone to know about it, but at least be honest with the person that does know.


***Note to self: Do not pair a large bank account with low self esteem.

So i'll be doing the best I can to help her. I don't mind it as long as it isn't at my expense.. I'm using her car to run her errands and I am not going to stress myself out like I did yesterday.

Ah, to be beautiful.

Back to School

I've registered for a math class this semester. As much as I would love to sign up for a full schedule, I just can't. I've come to accept that I cannot be a full time student at this point in my life, and it isn't due to lack of commitment or motivation... it's because of a lot of little things that frankly irritate me beyond belief. Thinking about it just evokes this overwhelming feeling of hopelessness... yes, i am dramatic... but it's only because I really want and need to go to school, and I can feel my brain shrinking due to inactivity. I sleep on my back because I'm afraid to wake up to pieces of unused cerebral matter on my pillow.

I can't go to school full time because I have to make money. I have responsibilities that I didn't really ask for, but will be fortunate to have in the long term. Right now, they hinder things. And by "they", I mean my mortgage and the costs associated with owning a home.

My cost of living is high. I have to get a well paying job to survive. I have to work full time. I can't get a better job without education. I cannot go to school full time because I am working full time. I cannot get financial aid to compensate for the money I'd be out if I went to school full-time. I get less aid for going half-time. So my only choice is to hardly go to school at all, which is fine with me because I need to do something. So at this point, I hardly qualify for aid at all... just a waiver for my school fees. I'm thankful for this, but there's a lot of running around in order to get this waiver. Nothing in life is free. My class will not cost me money, but it will cost a lot of effort and time. I have to resubmit papers that I have already submitted, namely my parents' death certificates.
Now I know this is how the world works, sometimes you just have to be repetitive to be part of the system, the bureaucracy, etc etc deal with it already my darling this is the way it goes...
But I am bit tired of schlepping my parents' death certificates back and forth to the financial aid office, I'm tired of the hardly audible "aww" when I hand them to the clerk, and the way they look at my date of birth to try and make sense of the situation. I wouldn't mind all of this if their sympathy resulted in more financial aid... hell, I'll bring in a photo album and shed some tears if the could just help me go to school full time. I have no problem playing the orphan card because frankly, my father would encourage me to do it. It's not something that I can change, so I might as well get the best use out of it.

Before I go through all of this fee waiver stuff, I have to fill out the FAFSA. This is the federal aid application which I have memorized by now and gotten absolutely nothing from. It specifically asks if I am an orphan so that my parents' finances are omitted. It also qualifies me as an independent student... which works against me. In a nutshell, it basically tells me : "We have determined that you can spend 20% of your yearly income on school, and since your tuition is less than that, we aren't going to help you. You are a big girl now, roll with it and make it on your own, my dear."

So tonight I will go home, dig up the necessary paperwork, hopefully get my classes for free and ravenously start school again. In the end, I still feel fortunate that I have these facilities available to me, that I can become educated, even if getting there requires a melodramatic blog post and a bit of paper shuffling.

But the most important question remains:
What will I wear for my first day night of school??? omg omg