17 posts from 2006

I am 21 today.

What do you get when you mix the Christmas Spirit with sheer boredom? 

Simple, Baby Jesus MySpace.

Seeing as MySpace has been crapping out lately, that link may not work for a few days.  It's switching between "User Does Not Exist" and "Error! This website totally sucks." Just try refreshing the page a couple times.

On the topic of ShitSpace, why does that site have so many problems?  Everyday they're doing "maintenance" on something.  Bulletins are down.  Friends pages are down.  Users do not exist.  What the hell, Tom & Co?  Why can't you get this website functioning properly?  You're making those of us addicted very angry.  Do you really want to make an addict angry?  Better watch yourself before I wreck your face.

In other, more sexual news - I saw Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins Monday night in Long Beach.  Can I just say that Ms. Lewis is by far the cutest thing ever made?  It's true.  Never have I been that excited to sit 21 rows from someone.  One day, I'll meet her and she'll fall madly in love with me.  Actually, I'll probably wet myself and lose my ability to speak and she'll think I'm a total lame.  This is ridiculous.

How was Death Cab?  Horrible.  Sean fell asleep and I got a headache.  We left only four songs into their show.  Sorry dudes... maybe if you were wearing dresses and not forcing us to stand during you show, I might consider staying.  But I don't like demanding bands and I don't like bad sounds... both of which you mastered that night.

But in all fairness, you were pretty good at Street Scene the year before last.  Work on being more like that in the future.  Hugs and kisses.

I'm out of words.  Go add Jesus, he is an awesome commenter.

I don't know how people blog daily.  I don't know how there was ever a time that I blogged daily.  I don't know why blog is an annoying word to me.  Blog.  Sounds more like a feeling than an activity.  The cold weather and my stuffy nose are making me feel a bit bloggy.  Maybe it sounds like a sound, along the lines of tah, bah, bleh, and pfft.  Blooog.  Ohhh bloooog!

School is a little over a month away.  It's so close, but so far.  I want to start tomorrow. Lies.  When it's actually time to start, I'm going to crap myself.  This isn't any lame community college.  This is something I actually want.  This is what I've wanted since I was in high school.  This is that big step to get on with the rest of my life.  This is the step that sets me apart from a majority of my family.  This is it! 

I feel like leaving town again.  I feel like moving out of California and starting all over.  So fresh and so clean.  It probably won't happen, as I have school.  And friends. And some family.  But! It will happen one day.  A day when I decide I can't resist the urge any longer.  Maybe when I finish school.

It's December. I can't believe it's already here.  This year went speeding by and I'm thinking this is how life will be until I'm 60.  I hope to have a giant plantation style house in the south by the time I retire.  I'll be like Paula Dean, minus the obsession with butter and the insane personality. 

Three days until Death Cab and Jenny Lewis.
Twenty five days until Christmas.
Thirty days until I'm 21.
Thirty two days until next year.
Forty days until school starts.
Fifty two days until Incubus.
Forty five years until my retirement.

My dearest friend Jamie is turning 20 this Saturday.  We're all headed to the casino for a purple and gold bash.  Meaning, she wants us all to dress in purple and gold. She doesn't want us looking cute, though.  She wants something silly, something... FUN.  In Jamie language this means tacky.  Wonderful.

I was dreading the whole idea of looking tacky in purple and gold.  I had such a hard time finding something to wear.  I went to 7 different stores before I got an outfit together.  I'll be wearing a purple dress, a gold belt, purple leg warmers, gold glittery heels, a purple bead necklace, a gold fish necklace, and a gold chain.  All together it looks pretty cute.  I'm thinking twice about whether or not I'm going to wear the gold sparkly mullet wig that I picked up at party city. 

In short, I'm pretty excited about this trip. 

A few posts back I mentioned my mother trying to hook me up with the "perfect boy."  The only thing we had in common was being vegetarians, but even that isn't completely true since I still eat sea creatures.  Anyway, back to my story.  When I met him he was living at my cousin's house... sleeping on their couch.  About a month ago he was kicked off of my cousin's couch and moved to my mother's.  My mom tried to help the poor kid out by getting him a job.  After two days on the job he was too sick to go back and refused to help my mom pay for stuff around the house.  My mom had had enough and kicked him to the curb.  For about a week or two now he's been couch surfing.  A real winner, right?

Well, the other day when I posted my psycho neighbor story in a MySpace bulletine, he responded.  His solution?  Are you ready for this?  He suggested I drive to town to pick him up and.  And!  He'd crash on my couch. 

...

You serious, boy?  Here, let me share with you his actual response.

"If you're actually scared of the guy, come to fallbrook and get me, I'll stay up there and crash on your couch or something, if I even see the guy I'll just kick the shit out of him.

I don't like seeing girls scared, because usually they come to me scared after something bad's already happened so think about it."

My favorite part was the ending.  The whole, "so think about it," thing. 

Honey, I might be scared but not enough to have you sponge off of me.  If I'm going to pay for something to keep me safe, I'll buy a dog or install an alarm. Nice try, kid.  I have to give you credit for having such large balls.

Maybe I'm being a little sensitive, but who says a girl needs a man to feel safe?  I've been living alone for almost three years without any problems.  I haven't been all that scared, either.  The only thing I have to worry about in my situation right now is pissing off that guy again. WHICH I PLAN ON NOT DOING.  I know how to be safe.  I know not to work down dark alleys, how to lock my doors, who to call, and how to react. 

I don't live in the best area, but it doesn't really worry me.  Since I work graveshifts, it's important for me to keep a parking space near my apartments.  The street I live on has doesn't have any street lights.  When I parked the way I did the other morning, I thought it might be a problem but I figured I'd be dealing with a somewhat sane person.  (Really, who gets that angry about the way someone parks?)  But the only reason I parked there was to be safe later, when I'd be leaving my house that night.  Had I known that trying to safe was going to put me in danger, I probably would've parked somewhere else.

Oh well, I kind of lost my train of thought.  Top Chef is on and even though I've already seen this episode, I'm having trouble looking away.  I love everything about food.  (Maybe that's the reason I'm curvilicious.)

This is an e-mail I sent the parentals about an incident that happened an hour ago.  Do you think I'm overreacting?  Because really, from the responses I got from management AND the SDPD, I'm not so sure anymore.

This morning when I got home from work, I parked in one of the visitor spots behind the complex.  There was a van in one of the spots parked all the way into my spot, so I had to park a little into the one next to mine.  I thought there'd be enough room for this other dude to get into his garage so I left it how it was and went to bed.

Around 1:30, the dude that owns the garage comes banging on my door.  Since I'm in my bedroom and the AC is on, his banging doesn't wake me up for awhile.  When I'm finally on my way to the door, I notice that he's turning my nob.  I open the door ask him what he wants and he starts screaming.  He's saying shit like, "Move your fucking car!" And so I just stood there telling him I wasn't going to do anything for someone talking to me the way he was and for turning my goddamn door nob.  He's still screaming, "Move your fucking car! Do you really want to make enemies with me?  You better move that fucking car or else I'll get it towed."

So I'm pissed off and scared because this dude was trying to open my door and was screaming at me.  I call the management company and they pretty much blow me off by saying they'll talk to him but I need to move my car.  I tell them that I don't feel comfortable going outside when the guy was just screaming at me.  I understand that I need to move my car, but I'm AFRAID of this dude.

I get frustrated with them because I don't think they're handling this as seriously as it should be.  I'm obviously upset and scared because the entire conversation with them is with me in tears.  I called Jeff and he told me to call the cops... soo that's what I do. 

Basically, I get the same shit from the cop.  He tells me I need to move my car.  It has already been moved, but I'm afraid I tell.  I give him the whole story of the door nob turning and the screaming and he tells me that the dude was just handling the situation wrong.  He says that some people don't know how to confront other people and this guy was just mad.  He says that the dude was just turning my nob to get my attention, there's nothing he can do.

WHAT?  I'm 20 years old living alone in North Park.  I'm obviously upset but there's nothing they can do?  He was just handling it wrong?  Can you just pass off every angry action as handling it wrong and move on?  I'm sure those kids were handling the situation wrong when they shot up a school, right? Shame on them.

So, is there a part of this that I'm not understanding?  Am I this upset over nothing?  I don't feel safe living with this crazy and no one seems to give a shit.  I'm so frustrated I don't know what to do.

You guys know me.  You know I don't get upset to the point of crying for no reason.  Especially when it's dealing with an asshole.  But I really don't feel safe.  I don't know this guy and I don't know what he's capable of doing... and I really don't want to find out.

Starting January 8th, I'll be attending the Art Institute of California - San Diego.

I'll be going after a bachelors in culinary management.

I'm excited.

It was awesome!  And for the first time, I'm not being sarcastic.

I got everything done in 15 minutes. 

FIFTEEN MINUTES

How often does that happen?  Like never!  Really.  Never!

When I showed up, the door said appointments only.  I didn't have one, but I went in anyway.  AND THEY ACTUALLY LET ME STAY.  It was so amazing.  I wanted to hug everyone in that office.

Thank you, Department of Motor Vehicles!

Have you ever been so angry and so frustrated that you just started crying?

I hate fights.  Especially fights with people who won't allow you to talk. I hate when people assume something that's totally not something you would normally do.  I hate that no matter what you say, they're not going to believe you. 

I made a mistake. It wasn't anything that can't be fixed in under five minutes.  Not a big deal!

But this person, this insane person, acts like I just lost the company $50,000. (When in reality, I didn't lose the company anything!) She attacks me, doesn't let me defend myself, and assumes that these mistakes mean I don't care about coworkers.  She assumes that I'm suddenly so irresponsible.  Instead of listening to what I have to say, she spends 20 minutes talking over me.  Yelling at me.  Giving me a hard time because I left an hour early on a day I wasn't feeling well.

This woman, she's the same person that comes into work 10-15 minutes late.  Every. Single. Day!  I never give her a hard time about it.  I never say anything. 

It really makes me want to quit my job.  I don't understand how one person can be cool to you one day and treat you like complete shit another.