It has been OVER A MONTH! Man I suck. It's just because I feel SO BUSY all the time. Especially last week. But I have exhausted that story so many times, I don't feel like telling it again right now.
I kinda just came back to remind myself this was here, and that I should get my shit together and start posting again. I should get my shit together in life in general, actually. Maybe this will be the first step.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Less depressing news... Finally!
DISCLAIMER: I have felt very unfocused and off my game today. This may or may not make sense.
Anyway, so a lot of things have happened since I last posted. School started, which is exciting! This is supposed to be my final year, so I'm finally getting to take all sorts of fun classes and no fluff classes, like Natural Disasters (wtf?) or some shit like that. This semester, I am taking (list format helps me remember):
- LGBT Literature
- Adolescence in Literature
- Creative Drama (a theater class, not a study of drama or worse, WRITING dramatic works)
- English Grammar for Prospective Teachers
- Teaching Composition in Secondary School
- Fieldwork in Community Settings
It is sixteen units in total, with all of them being three except the last one, which is only one unit. I am the most excited about my LGBT lit class; we're reading all sorts of awesome authors like Shakespeare and Whitman and Oscar Wilde (The Picture of Dorian Gray, wheeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and whatnot. My first semester at SDSU, I took a writing class and we had to analyze a piece of literature from three different perspectives -- two little papers and then one fifteen-page main paper, and for my big paper I did a Lesbian, Gay, Queer perspective analysis of The Picture of Dorian Gray so I feel all knowledgeable about that piece, and it'll be really interesting to further discuss it. My Adolescence in Lit class seems fun too, and we aren't reading Catcher in the Rye so I am a happy girl, because I HATE THAT BOOK SO MUCH. I am petrified about my Creative Drama class -- we have to do like improv games and stuff, and I have crippling stage fright (I think I've discussed this before), and we also have to make a lesson plan at the end of the semester which is also scary to me. I'M NOT READY! The grammar class is eh; I love linguistics and it is interesting, but it is definitely on the bottom of my class list this semester, only because I am taking so many super awesome other classes! I've had the teacher before, though, so I know what to expect for the most part. The last two classes are linked; for the second, I mostly have to do 30 hours of volunteer work (well, only 12.5 for the class, but it's 30 for the credential program so I might as well get all 30 knocked out) and some online discussion/reflection things, but for the FIRST one, it is going to be intense. It's all about rhetoric, and I have never taken a rhetoric class before, so that is a new thing. I mean, the first day I was like MIND. BLOWN. because I have never thought about things like that before. Also we have to write things like our philosophy of teaching which is scary to me, because I don't really sit down and analyze what I think about things like teaching, so it will be a whole new experience for me. I am kind of scared, but I think after this semester is over, the Teaching Comp. class will be my favorite out of all of them.
Aside from school stuff, Boy has been upgraded to Boyfriend and I don't even know how. He took me out for my birthday on Friday and he called himself my boyfriend, so I guess that is how it is. I know I sound all unenthusiastic about it, but I am not unenthusiastic, I had just been confused about what our relationship was and now it has been clarified and that is it. He is still very sweet to me and he tolerates my craziness, like running down the stairs and jumping into his pool naked at 9:30pm, and then needing several towels because it is so effing cold.
Speaking of my birthday, I AM 21 FINALLY! That means I have unrestricted access to almost ALL THE THINGS! My birthday was on Wednesday and I had work and school (wooo, party!) but then I went to a local sports bar with my mom and Boyfriend and my mom's friend and we had drinks, and then my mom went off with her friend and Boyfriend and I went to a local Irish pub and had MOAR drinks and I was all impressive with my extensive* knowledge about tequila (*more extensive than his, anyway). And we stayed out WAY too late because I had school the next day, too. And I think I did something on Thursday but I don't remember because I am super tired right now. But then on Friday, he took me out and brought me flowers and stuff, and then we went and had wine and pizza by the beach, and then went to a Mexican restaurant and I had a giant margarita and a tequila sunrise and a shot of tequila and needless to say I got drunk even though I didn't mean to. So I had my first drunk experience ever. Wheeee. And then there was more celebrating but no drinking on Saturday and then last night we had more margaritas and some Mike's Hard lemonade and I watched Ghostbusters because I am behind the times.
Wow I am talking a lot. I wish I could make this more interesting or coherent but I am not functioning well today. It is a very blah day. Also it is raining ON LABOR DAY, which is practically a sin, but we barbecued anyway. Speaking of, it's time for dinner...
Friday, August 26, 2011
Sigh
I fail. At a lot of things, blogging being only one of them. Another one is life. I pretty much fail at it.
So what has happened in this past month? Gee, I'm glad you asked. Although you probably didn't and you probably are going to regret that I pretended you did.
Okay, so, let's see. Maybe mid-June, I got this phone call from a friend of mine, and when I answered, said friend was like "Oh, hey, so I realized I kind of like you and we should go on a date" and I was like "Uh" because I was completely floored and also convinced that it was a joke but I agreed to it anyway in my daze of confusion and then we tried to make plans and didn't end up being able to do anything until late-ish July because I was busy and he was traveling to Missouri to rebuild homes in Joplin after the tornado and then HE was busy and all sorts of stuff got in the way, but we finally went out and it felt more like hanging out with a friend instead of actually dating but it was fun anyway. Oh and I also really had to pee and I walked into like four businesses and NONE OF THEM HAD BATHROOMS WTF. That is not relevant to the story, I just don't understand these businesses and the lack of toilet facilities.
Anyway, I had been feeling like crap about myself, I mean more than normal, and the date was nice at least because it made me feel special and cared about which was cool. But then I came back home and reality hit and my mom was like "Why do you smell like alcohol" and I said "I don't know because all I drank was water" and she was like "Well you smell like alcohol. What did you do?" and I said "Nothing?" and she said "I can tell you're hiding something from me" and I was like "WTF" so yeah. And then I started arguing with a friend of mine because we have issues to say the least, and my fun night was RUINED.
So then, that friend who I have been complaining about because he would go to a forum I am a part of and check if I was online and that skeeved me out but I don't want to say too much about him because I am pretty sure he found this blog and I don't want to cause MORE drama because I am sick of drama -- HIM, we are not talking really anymore. I mean, occasionally, but he was making me feel bad about myself and acting like he was blaming me for things that were happening in his life like his friends arguing amongst themselves and his air conditioner breaking and even though I knew it was not my fault, I am very susceptible to guilt-tripping because of my previous relationship history in which I was conditioned to believe everything was my fault, so it made me upset and I mostly stopped talking to him. Especially since he is still not "over me" and that is always kind of awkward. SIGH.
SO THEN. My mom and I have been fighting kind of more often lately. See, here's the problem. She knows how to push my buttons. And I am notoriously bad at articulating myself ANYWAY, but when I get upset, my ability to explain things plummets and I am left floundering and crying and then my mom calls me a drama queen and says I need counseling which makes me cry harder because I know that if I could just explain myself, she would understand, but I just CAN'T, and then that makes me sound like an emo kid and then I wonder if I really DO need counseling, especially since it has been two years since I've gotten out of an abusive relationship and I STILL act the same way, so clearly I am fucked up in the head.
The drama really exploded a few days ago when I got this email that I was going to be getting my financial aid within the next two days. I decided to check my bank account because sometimes SDSU sends out emails about things they are going to do after they've actually done it. In doing this, I noticed there was a charge on my bank account which I hadn't made. So that was exciting, but it was late at night so I couldn't do anything about it until the following morning. Well, I woke up the next day and told my mom EVERY DETAIL, starting with the financial aid email (this is important) and the charge and whatnot. I guess I should have already said that my mom had been asking me when the tuition is due, and I kept telling her that I didn't know, and that there's no date posted for when it's due (I have deferred tuition payments, so I don't have to pay when I register like everyone else), but it's probably due sometime before the semester starts. Well, I checked my bank account later that day and noticed I miraculously had like 500 more dollars than I had the previous night. When I checked it out, I noticed it was a financial aid deposit from SDSU. Which really confused me, because the smallest of my deposits should have been 1100 dollars. Then I had a lightbulb moment, and I went and added up the financial aid I was due, and subtracted my tuition, and BAM. That was the 547 bucks that had been deposited into my account. This irritated my quite a bit, because I could probably get my loan money back but not the 1100 dollar Pell grant because that is government money, so I basically lost 600 bucks because my mom hadn't paid my tuition. So I texted her and told her she didn't have to pay tuition because SDSU already took it from my financial aid (probably not the best way to handle it, in hindsight). She calls me later, and starts out with "You never told me when it was due" and I was like "That's because I DON'T KNOW WHEN IT IS DUE. WHAT PART OF THAT IS DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND" and she says "Well, I'm not taking responsibility for this" and I said "FINE" and hung up because I am mature like that. But I was pissed! I had set up an account specifically for her so she could log in and pay the tuition, but I guess she had forgotten about it, and she was blaming me for all this and leaving me with less money than I was counting on for paying my car payments and my books and parking permit because, did I mention? I'm only working seven hours a week this semester, which is two hours more a week than last semester, which equates to about fifteen dollars more that I am making over my car payment. And since I only work FOUR FULL MONTHS, that means I make a grand total surplus of SIXTY DOLLARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So I was really counting on that three thousand plus dollars to help me with my expenses. But instead, I only got a fraction of it, and was still expected to pay my loan money back even though I didn't get it. See, another thing that aggravates me is that my mom told me she's paying for four years of tuition only. Which means this is the last year, which means I was expecting her to pay this semester's tuition. So that was irritating. BUT. She's really only paying for two years, because when I was in community college, which BY THE WAY I went to to help save her money, I got free tuition, so it was extra frustrating that I was left with this burden because I already feel kind of gypped even though I would never tell her that, but I felt totally screwed for this semester.
Wow, that is a long and probably incoherent paragraph. But the story is not done yet. So she comes home later that day, and we get into this HUGE argument. I mean, huge. She is screaming and I am screaming and she is like 'I KNOW YOU THINK I'M A TERRIBLE MOTHER" and I'm like "WHAT THE FUCK, WHEN DID I SAY THAT. ALL I SAID WAS THAT I THINK THIS IS MOSTLY YOUR FAULT" and she was all "FINE, IT'S ALL MY FAULT. HERE, TAKE ALL MY MONEY. ALL THE MONEY. BECAUSE I AM A SHITTY MOTHER AND I FUCK UP EVERYTHING" and I'm like "*sobs* I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS ANYMORE. PLEASE STOP" and dramatic stuff like that. And then she calls me a drama queen and says I need counseling as usual and then goes down the hall and doesn't come back out, also as usual. And then I find out that she has deposited $8000 into my account for no reason. So we start fighting the next day, and she's like "I don't want you to be inconvenienced in any way" and I keep telling her she is ridiculous and that I was just frustrated and I am sorry I thought it was mostly her fault and then she starts being mean and I start crying and she makes fun of me for crying and it is ugly and unpleasant.
So all that happened yesterday and the day before. Needless to say I wake up today and I am just feeling completely emotionally and physically drained, so I lay in bed all day and accomplish nothing but feeling worthless. Well, I also had a massage scheduled today for my birthday as a gift from my mother so I'm feeling all guilty as I go in, because I know she is all angry and hate-y towards me. Anyway, long story short, I don't feel good after the massage because my back is super tight and knotty because I am stressed ALL THE TIME, and for some reason I have a headache afterwards, too. When I got home, I just kind of sat down and drank some water because whoa, it was like 99 degrees and HUMID outside which did not help. And when my mom got home, she was decidedly not talking to me. Which is not good. It means she is angry, maybe not at me but just at life in general. So eventually she asks me how my massage was, and I very carefully answer it so as to make it seem like I enjoyed the massage more than I actually did without lying, because I don't want her to think I'm a complainer, ungrateful, or a liar. Well she eventually pries it out of me that I am sore and I have a headache from the massage, and she goes "Well you should have TOLD HER that it hurt you. And you probably haven't been drinking enough which is why you have a headache" in a totally unpleasant tone of voice, but I just let it go and tell her that the massage itself didn't actually hurt, it was just afterwards that it started to hurt. Anyway, we get in another argument because I didn't get any meat out for dinner, because she always yells at me when I mess the cupboards or freezer up when I'm looking through them, and I didn't want to make her angry so I just figured since I couldn't find chicken easily, that I would just buy dinner and she could help me find chicken for next week. Apparently that was the WRONG decision, because she was irritated and was like "I don't WANT to go out for dinner, so here is some money so you can get yourself dinner and I'll just have something here," which makes NO SENSE why she would be giving me money, so I refuse it and eventually have to stuff it back in her purse because she left it sitting out for me. And I told her she was ridiculous, which ended in an argument of course because everything ends in arguments. Anyway, around 6 pm, she went down the hall and hasn't come out since, and the lights are all off and I don't know whether or not I should go to bed because she might consider me being a drama queen by going to bed super early or she also might be getting irritated because maybe she is trying to sleep and my being awake down the hall with the light and TV on is making her angry. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
Also my birthday is in a few days and I am totally not looking forward to it because all the bad things happen on my birthday and seeing how these past few days have been, I am just dreading what's going to happen on my birthday. And my mom asked me where I wanted to go eat out for dinner, but I don't know if that applies anymore since she seems to pretty much be repulsed by/unable to stand my presence and she gave me $8000 that I can't give back to her. And I don't know if I want to go anyway, because I don't know how much money she has. And if she even wants to be around me. And I don't know where to go anyway. And I have a night class that night, so I won't get home until late. So I guess I'll have to see what happens when I get home from class and try to judge the water from there.
Some good news, though. That boy, from the beginning of this post? Well, we went out on a few more dates, and we're actually dating regularly now, and he's like "I told you I liked you, and I'm not going anywhere" and he HASN'T and I met his parents and they like me and he is really super sweet to me and makes me feel good when I am around him, except for the panicky part of myself but that will have to be explained another time, because I think I've talked your ears off enough, for Christ's sake. But I guess the point is, it's not ALL horribly awful. Only most of it.
So what has happened in this past month? Gee, I'm glad you asked. Although you probably didn't and you probably are going to regret that I pretended you did.
Okay, so, let's see. Maybe mid-June, I got this phone call from a friend of mine, and when I answered, said friend was like "Oh, hey, so I realized I kind of like you and we should go on a date" and I was like "Uh" because I was completely floored and also convinced that it was a joke but I agreed to it anyway in my daze of confusion and then we tried to make plans and didn't end up being able to do anything until late-ish July because I was busy and he was traveling to Missouri to rebuild homes in Joplin after the tornado and then HE was busy and all sorts of stuff got in the way, but we finally went out and it felt more like hanging out with a friend instead of actually dating but it was fun anyway. Oh and I also really had to pee and I walked into like four businesses and NONE OF THEM HAD BATHROOMS WTF. That is not relevant to the story, I just don't understand these businesses and the lack of toilet facilities.
Anyway, I had been feeling like crap about myself, I mean more than normal, and the date was nice at least because it made me feel special and cared about which was cool. But then I came back home and reality hit and my mom was like "Why do you smell like alcohol" and I said "I don't know because all I drank was water" and she was like "Well you smell like alcohol. What did you do?" and I said "Nothing?" and she said "I can tell you're hiding something from me" and I was like "WTF" so yeah. And then I started arguing with a friend of mine because we have issues to say the least, and my fun night was RUINED.
So then, that friend who I have been complaining about because he would go to a forum I am a part of and check if I was online and that skeeved me out but I don't want to say too much about him because I am pretty sure he found this blog and I don't want to cause MORE drama because I am sick of drama -- HIM, we are not talking really anymore. I mean, occasionally, but he was making me feel bad about myself and acting like he was blaming me for things that were happening in his life like his friends arguing amongst themselves and his air conditioner breaking and even though I knew it was not my fault, I am very susceptible to guilt-tripping because of my previous relationship history in which I was conditioned to believe everything was my fault, so it made me upset and I mostly stopped talking to him. Especially since he is still not "over me" and that is always kind of awkward. SIGH.
SO THEN. My mom and I have been fighting kind of more often lately. See, here's the problem. She knows how to push my buttons. And I am notoriously bad at articulating myself ANYWAY, but when I get upset, my ability to explain things plummets and I am left floundering and crying and then my mom calls me a drama queen and says I need counseling which makes me cry harder because I know that if I could just explain myself, she would understand, but I just CAN'T, and then that makes me sound like an emo kid and then I wonder if I really DO need counseling, especially since it has been two years since I've gotten out of an abusive relationship and I STILL act the same way, so clearly I am fucked up in the head.
The drama really exploded a few days ago when I got this email that I was going to be getting my financial aid within the next two days. I decided to check my bank account because sometimes SDSU sends out emails about things they are going to do after they've actually done it. In doing this, I noticed there was a charge on my bank account which I hadn't made. So that was exciting, but it was late at night so I couldn't do anything about it until the following morning. Well, I woke up the next day and told my mom EVERY DETAIL, starting with the financial aid email (this is important) and the charge and whatnot. I guess I should have already said that my mom had been asking me when the tuition is due, and I kept telling her that I didn't know, and that there's no date posted for when it's due (I have deferred tuition payments, so I don't have to pay when I register like everyone else), but it's probably due sometime before the semester starts. Well, I checked my bank account later that day and noticed I miraculously had like 500 more dollars than I had the previous night. When I checked it out, I noticed it was a financial aid deposit from SDSU. Which really confused me, because the smallest of my deposits should have been 1100 dollars. Then I had a lightbulb moment, and I went and added up the financial aid I was due, and subtracted my tuition, and BAM. That was the 547 bucks that had been deposited into my account. This irritated my quite a bit, because I could probably get my loan money back but not the 1100 dollar Pell grant because that is government money, so I basically lost 600 bucks because my mom hadn't paid my tuition. So I texted her and told her she didn't have to pay tuition because SDSU already took it from my financial aid (probably not the best way to handle it, in hindsight). She calls me later, and starts out with "You never told me when it was due" and I was like "That's because I DON'T KNOW WHEN IT IS DUE. WHAT PART OF THAT IS DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND" and she says "Well, I'm not taking responsibility for this" and I said "FINE" and hung up because I am mature like that. But I was pissed! I had set up an account specifically for her so she could log in and pay the tuition, but I guess she had forgotten about it, and she was blaming me for all this and leaving me with less money than I was counting on for paying my car payments and my books and parking permit because, did I mention? I'm only working seven hours a week this semester, which is two hours more a week than last semester, which equates to about fifteen dollars more that I am making over my car payment. And since I only work FOUR FULL MONTHS, that means I make a grand total surplus of SIXTY DOLLARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So I was really counting on that three thousand plus dollars to help me with my expenses. But instead, I only got a fraction of it, and was still expected to pay my loan money back even though I didn't get it. See, another thing that aggravates me is that my mom told me she's paying for four years of tuition only. Which means this is the last year, which means I was expecting her to pay this semester's tuition. So that was irritating. BUT. She's really only paying for two years, because when I was in community college, which BY THE WAY I went to to help save her money, I got free tuition, so it was extra frustrating that I was left with this burden because I already feel kind of gypped even though I would never tell her that, but I felt totally screwed for this semester.
Wow, that is a long and probably incoherent paragraph. But the story is not done yet. So she comes home later that day, and we get into this HUGE argument. I mean, huge. She is screaming and I am screaming and she is like 'I KNOW YOU THINK I'M A TERRIBLE MOTHER" and I'm like "WHAT THE FUCK, WHEN DID I SAY THAT. ALL I SAID WAS THAT I THINK THIS IS MOSTLY YOUR FAULT" and she was all "FINE, IT'S ALL MY FAULT. HERE, TAKE ALL MY MONEY. ALL THE MONEY. BECAUSE I AM A SHITTY MOTHER AND I FUCK UP EVERYTHING" and I'm like "*sobs* I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS ANYMORE. PLEASE STOP" and dramatic stuff like that. And then she calls me a drama queen and says I need counseling as usual and then goes down the hall and doesn't come back out, also as usual. And then I find out that she has deposited $8000 into my account for no reason. So we start fighting the next day, and she's like "I don't want you to be inconvenienced in any way" and I keep telling her she is ridiculous and that I was just frustrated and I am sorry I thought it was mostly her fault and then she starts being mean and I start crying and she makes fun of me for crying and it is ugly and unpleasant.
So all that happened yesterday and the day before. Needless to say I wake up today and I am just feeling completely emotionally and physically drained, so I lay in bed all day and accomplish nothing but feeling worthless. Well, I also had a massage scheduled today for my birthday as a gift from my mother so I'm feeling all guilty as I go in, because I know she is all angry and hate-y towards me. Anyway, long story short, I don't feel good after the massage because my back is super tight and knotty because I am stressed ALL THE TIME, and for some reason I have a headache afterwards, too. When I got home, I just kind of sat down and drank some water because whoa, it was like 99 degrees and HUMID outside which did not help. And when my mom got home, she was decidedly not talking to me. Which is not good. It means she is angry, maybe not at me but just at life in general. So eventually she asks me how my massage was, and I very carefully answer it so as to make it seem like I enjoyed the massage more than I actually did without lying, because I don't want her to think I'm a complainer, ungrateful, or a liar. Well she eventually pries it out of me that I am sore and I have a headache from the massage, and she goes "Well you should have TOLD HER that it hurt you. And you probably haven't been drinking enough which is why you have a headache" in a totally unpleasant tone of voice, but I just let it go and tell her that the massage itself didn't actually hurt, it was just afterwards that it started to hurt. Anyway, we get in another argument because I didn't get any meat out for dinner, because she always yells at me when I mess the cupboards or freezer up when I'm looking through them, and I didn't want to make her angry so I just figured since I couldn't find chicken easily, that I would just buy dinner and she could help me find chicken for next week. Apparently that was the WRONG decision, because she was irritated and was like "I don't WANT to go out for dinner, so here is some money so you can get yourself dinner and I'll just have something here," which makes NO SENSE why she would be giving me money, so I refuse it and eventually have to stuff it back in her purse because she left it sitting out for me. And I told her she was ridiculous, which ended in an argument of course because everything ends in arguments. Anyway, around 6 pm, she went down the hall and hasn't come out since, and the lights are all off and I don't know whether or not I should go to bed because she might consider me being a drama queen by going to bed super early or she also might be getting irritated because maybe she is trying to sleep and my being awake down the hall with the light and TV on is making her angry. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
Also my birthday is in a few days and I am totally not looking forward to it because all the bad things happen on my birthday and seeing how these past few days have been, I am just dreading what's going to happen on my birthday. And my mom asked me where I wanted to go eat out for dinner, but I don't know if that applies anymore since she seems to pretty much be repulsed by/unable to stand my presence and she gave me $8000 that I can't give back to her. And I don't know if I want to go anyway, because I don't know how much money she has. And if she even wants to be around me. And I don't know where to go anyway. And I have a night class that night, so I won't get home until late. So I guess I'll have to see what happens when I get home from class and try to judge the water from there.
Some good news, though. That boy, from the beginning of this post? Well, we went out on a few more dates, and we're actually dating regularly now, and he's like "I told you I liked you, and I'm not going anywhere" and he HASN'T and I met his parents and they like me and he is really super sweet to me and makes me feel good when I am around him, except for the panicky part of myself but that will have to be explained another time, because I think I've talked your ears off enough, for Christ's sake. But I guess the point is, it's not ALL horribly awful. Only most of it.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Friday Failure
So I totally failed at reading this week. Which explains why Friday went by and there was no post about books. I really intended to finish my book, and at first, I was like "YAY BOOK I LOVE THIS BOOK" and then "YAY ANOTHER BOOK! I LOVE THIS BOOK TOO!" and then "MAYBE I SHOULD FINISH HARRY POTTER INSTEAD OF STARTING TWO NEW BOOKS" combined with "INTERNET FOREVER!!" and needless to say I am like 30 pages into the book I was going to talk about. So no dice for this week. And now I'm getting yelled at so I can't even finish this. SIGH.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Adventures with Spike - Bath Time
This post is brought to you by allergies.
So I gave my dog a bath today because he was itchy as hell. Now, Spike LOVES baths. Bath time with Spike consists of him trying to escape while wondering why I'm being so mean to him.
So I gave my dog a bath today because he was itchy as hell. Now, Spike LOVES baths. Bath time with Spike consists of him trying to escape while wondering why I'm being so mean to him.
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| Why are you doing this to me? I thought you loved me! |
Now, I always try to make things exciting by talking in a high pitched voice like this is the most fun thing I have ever done, ever as I'm pouring the warm water over him. "WHEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! BATH TIIIIIIIIIIIIME!!!!!!!!!! BAAAAAAAAAATH TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WE LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE BATH TIME, YES WE DO, YES WE DO!!!! WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Normally that would cause Spike to go into a wiggly, flaily mess, except I'm pretty sure that makes it worse in the tub, because he'll look up at me like he's going to die the more excited I get.
Then comes time for the soap. To me, this would be the best time of bath time, because it's like a massage, right? And dogs love being patted. Petted? Pat? Whatever. So I get the soap in my hand (with a little exclamation like "Ooooooo, it's sooooap tiiiiiiiiiiiime!!!!!!1") and I start scrubbing and scratching my dog, paying special attention to the places I know he loves being scratched. I've stopped with the excited voice by this point, but I still talk to him because they say your voice soothes your dog. Not during bath time.
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| Is this what Chinese Water Torture is like? |
Poor dog. Of course I had to pile the suds on his head, too.
When it's finally rinsing suds time, Spike has already tried to surreptitiously escape whenever I am not looking directly at him about 20 times, without fail. He moves really slowly, like I can't see him out of the corner of my eye if he moves slow enough. First, he inches to the corner of the tub. The corner is the place where he can squeeze out the easiest, you see. Then, ever so carefully, he lifts one foot and places it on the edge of the tub, all the while sneaking glances at me to make sure I'm not watching. Usually I stop him at this point, but if I don't, he'll put the second paw up there on the edge, preparing to jump. Note that he does this even if my back is turned and I am not looking at him at all.
After he's been rinsed and dried, he'll bounce out of the tub as quickly as possible, only to shake and drench the entire bathroom. He looks to damp and pathetic and miserable at this point.
But once he gets let out, he turns into a flailing, flopping, blurry mess.
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| The other blurry thing in the back there is my puppy. He's really excited. |
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| Drying off? |
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| Or perhaps attempting to create a rift in the space-time continuum? |
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| Note that this was taken ten minutes after the previous ones. Yeah, he was still going. |
He tears around the house like that for a good 30 minutes with a manic look I was unable to capture in the flailiness, rubbing himself on the floor, towel, and anything you don't want him to, such as your clothes, your dry-clean only blanket, and your bedsheets. Once you've laughed yourself to tears and screamed at him to get off your bed, he finally settles down with a bone or some other toy to take his aggression over the whole bath betrayal out.
But every once and a while, I catch him walking by a low mirror after he's gotten a bath, only to pause and take a second glance, like "Damn, that's a FINE lookin dog right there."
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Warning: Rambling Ahead (but there is a point!)
So I promised myself I wouldn't blog until there was something positive in my life for me to talk about. Well... there isn't really much. Nothing of note anyway. I mean I have electricity and a roof over my head but those who have those things aren't interested in hearing about that and those who don't wouldn't want to hear about it, so I can't talk about that.
Instead of continuing to complain like the whiny bitch I have apparently turned into lately, I decided I would go to my old stand-by -- books.
When I was a kid, I didn't have very many friends. Not because I wasn't a social child, but because I went to school in one city and lived in another, thereby making it pretty difficult to hang out at people's houses or go to parties or whatever. And where I lived, in a mobile home park, my neighbors were an old woman, an old man, a gay couple and a lesbian woman. Oh, and an old man who liked to wear women's panties but we didn't talk to him. All adults. And, let's face it, normal adults don't want to hang out with kids. Panty guy might have wanted to -- his penchant for wearing women's underwear was the smallest of his quirks -- but for all intents and purposes, I didn't have companions when I was growing up. None, that is, except my dog and my books.
I started reading at an early age; my mom doesn't remember how old I was, but she loves to tell the story of me hanging over her shoulder, reading her grown-up book out loud, speaking words I had never seen or heard in my life. And once I started reading, I never stopped. I always was advanced in the literature department, reading at a twelfth grade level by the end of elementary school. In kindergarten, when the teachers and volunteer parents would be reading to the students, I would be up there reading to my own group of kids right along with the adults.
Needless to say, reading offered an escape from boredom, loneliness, family troubles, money troubles, etc. when I was a child. One particular notable example comes in the form of seven little books that compose the Harry Potter series. Perhaps you've heard of it. I felt I could really relate to Harry -- we were both ten-going-on-eleven, both lonely, both not in the happiest of families (a bit of an understatement when referring to the Dursleys, but the comparison still stands), and so on. Left alone with my thoughts, I was able to escape into the magical world of Hogwarts. As Harry and the rest of the clan grew up, I grew up right along with them, year after year. When I graduated high school, Harry left Hogwarts and went on his final adventure. Even if I was just a mere Muggle, the Harry Potter characters and storyline were relatable, offering me a distraction from my daily life.
And it still does to this day, even though nowadays I'm more likely to reach for my phone to text my best friend when I need a restoration of sanity. I won't tell you how many times I've reread the series or the individual books (I'm rereading the seventh one right now), mostly because I have no idea myself. Probably somewhere in the hundreds. Yes, hundredS. But I hadn't revisited them in a long time. I had forgotten what it was like to read for pleasure, as I never get a chance during the semester due to the sheer amount of workload I have from all my classes. I can't keep up with my assigned reading, much less additional reading. Occasionally over the summer, I'd read a book or two, but I've literally read every single book in my house except maybe one or two which don't hold my attention (Bill Clinton's "My Life," I will conquer you someday) or which I'm not interested in, so when given the choice between INTERNET FOREVER! and reread Clan of the Cave Bear for the umpteenth time, I'd go for the internet.
Recently, though, I had the pleasure of being able to purchase four books (which I totally never should have bought and can't afford but oh well, I've already read three of them and most of the fourth so why return them now, right?) by Stephen King, who, by the way, is my favorite author ever. Now, King isn't the best writer in the whole world -- I doubt he's going to be winning any Pulitzer prizes or anything -- but he can weave together a story like very few can. He walks the line perfectly between the natural and the supernatural, grounding his stories in reality but allowing enough imagination to seep in that it almost seems plausible. I'm a skeptic by nature, so this balance is essential for me; for a novel to be implausible and grounded mostly in the supernatural, it has to be well-written. The Shack by William P. Young comes to mind. Wholly supernatural, horridly written. I hated it.
My love for Stephen King is evident in the number of books I own and have read of his. I own about sixteen books of his, which is more than twice the number of books that I own from any other author (well, technically I own fifteen, but my friend let me read one of his books and then called me a slut and stopped talking to me so I think that means it's mine now, right?), and I've read probably... well, less than that. Probably like fifteen, because I haven't read the two Dark Tower books I own yet but I read Carrie and I don't own that. But, again, that is way more books than any other author. OH and if you want to count short stories, then you subtract one book (because it is a short story collection) and add *counts* fourteen stories. So almost THIRTY THINGS! That is a lot of things. I've also seen four of his movies because usually his movies really suck, but The Shining, Misery (which I haven't read), The Green Mile and The Shawshank Redemption which is the greatest movie of all time but I totally haven't read the short story and it makes me a sad panda, those are all good movies.
Anyway, the point of this is, I have a huge stack of books in my to-read pile, ranging from re-reads to "I need to finish this damn book already" to books my best friend's mom gave me which I have no idea if I'll enjoy or not. And if there's one thing I get excited talking about, it's books. So to motivate myself to post, and to give myself something to look forward to, which I think I really need right now, I'm going to try, at least once a week, to write a book post. I have enough to keep me going for a while, and I can generally finish a book in a week at most. Even The Stand, once I finally got going with it, took me less than a week (it's about a 1200 page book). I polished off every single Harry Potter book in one day, and reread it a second time in about three. The only time I have difficulty finishing a book is if I'm busy, like during the semester, or if I hate it, like with Pride and Prejudice or something like that. So we'll see how well this works out. I'm hoping to get one done on Friday, and I think if I start rereading my book (One Hundred Years of Solitude, one of my favorites) tonight, I should be able to finish it by then even though it's complex and you have to pay attention. Or maybe I'll reread Pet Sematary because that book is astounding. Or maybe... actually this post is long enough so I'll just stop now.
/awkward
Instead of continuing to complain like the whiny bitch I have apparently turned into lately, I decided I would go to my old stand-by -- books.
When I was a kid, I didn't have very many friends. Not because I wasn't a social child, but because I went to school in one city and lived in another, thereby making it pretty difficult to hang out at people's houses or go to parties or whatever. And where I lived, in a mobile home park, my neighbors were an old woman, an old man, a gay couple and a lesbian woman. Oh, and an old man who liked to wear women's panties but we didn't talk to him. All adults. And, let's face it, normal adults don't want to hang out with kids. Panty guy might have wanted to -- his penchant for wearing women's underwear was the smallest of his quirks -- but for all intents and purposes, I didn't have companions when I was growing up. None, that is, except my dog and my books.
I started reading at an early age; my mom doesn't remember how old I was, but she loves to tell the story of me hanging over her shoulder, reading her grown-up book out loud, speaking words I had never seen or heard in my life. And once I started reading, I never stopped. I always was advanced in the literature department, reading at a twelfth grade level by the end of elementary school. In kindergarten, when the teachers and volunteer parents would be reading to the students, I would be up there reading to my own group of kids right along with the adults.
Needless to say, reading offered an escape from boredom, loneliness, family troubles, money troubles, etc. when I was a child. One particular notable example comes in the form of seven little books that compose the Harry Potter series. Perhaps you've heard of it. I felt I could really relate to Harry -- we were both ten-going-on-eleven, both lonely, both not in the happiest of families (a bit of an understatement when referring to the Dursleys, but the comparison still stands), and so on. Left alone with my thoughts, I was able to escape into the magical world of Hogwarts. As Harry and the rest of the clan grew up, I grew up right along with them, year after year. When I graduated high school, Harry left Hogwarts and went on his final adventure. Even if I was just a mere Muggle, the Harry Potter characters and storyline were relatable, offering me a distraction from my daily life.
And it still does to this day, even though nowadays I'm more likely to reach for my phone to text my best friend when I need a restoration of sanity. I won't tell you how many times I've reread the series or the individual books (I'm rereading the seventh one right now), mostly because I have no idea myself. Probably somewhere in the hundreds. Yes, hundredS. But I hadn't revisited them in a long time. I had forgotten what it was like to read for pleasure, as I never get a chance during the semester due to the sheer amount of workload I have from all my classes. I can't keep up with my assigned reading, much less additional reading. Occasionally over the summer, I'd read a book or two, but I've literally read every single book in my house except maybe one or two which don't hold my attention (Bill Clinton's "My Life," I will conquer you someday) or which I'm not interested in, so when given the choice between INTERNET FOREVER! and reread Clan of the Cave Bear for the umpteenth time, I'd go for the internet.
Recently, though, I had the pleasure of being able to purchase four books (which I totally never should have bought and can't afford but oh well, I've already read three of them and most of the fourth so why return them now, right?) by Stephen King, who, by the way, is my favorite author ever. Now, King isn't the best writer in the whole world -- I doubt he's going to be winning any Pulitzer prizes or anything -- but he can weave together a story like very few can. He walks the line perfectly between the natural and the supernatural, grounding his stories in reality but allowing enough imagination to seep in that it almost seems plausible. I'm a skeptic by nature, so this balance is essential for me; for a novel to be implausible and grounded mostly in the supernatural, it has to be well-written. The Shack by William P. Young comes to mind. Wholly supernatural, horridly written. I hated it.
My love for Stephen King is evident in the number of books I own and have read of his. I own about sixteen books of his, which is more than twice the number of books that I own from any other author (well, technically I own fifteen, but my friend let me read one of his books and then called me a slut and stopped talking to me so I think that means it's mine now, right?), and I've read probably... well, less than that. Probably like fifteen, because I haven't read the two Dark Tower books I own yet but I read Carrie and I don't own that. But, again, that is way more books than any other author. OH and if you want to count short stories, then you subtract one book (because it is a short story collection) and add *counts* fourteen stories. So almost THIRTY THINGS! That is a lot of things. I've also seen four of his movies because usually his movies really suck, but The Shining, Misery (which I haven't read), The Green Mile and The Shawshank Redemption which is the greatest movie of all time but I totally haven't read the short story and it makes me a sad panda, those are all good movies.
Anyway, the point of this is, I have a huge stack of books in my to-read pile, ranging from re-reads to "I need to finish this damn book already" to books my best friend's mom gave me which I have no idea if I'll enjoy or not. And if there's one thing I get excited talking about, it's books. So to motivate myself to post, and to give myself something to look forward to, which I think I really need right now, I'm going to try, at least once a week, to write a book post. I have enough to keep me going for a while, and I can generally finish a book in a week at most. Even The Stand, once I finally got going with it, took me less than a week (it's about a 1200 page book). I polished off every single Harry Potter book in one day, and reread it a second time in about three. The only time I have difficulty finishing a book is if I'm busy, like during the semester, or if I hate it, like with Pride and Prejudice or something like that. So we'll see how well this works out. I'm hoping to get one done on Friday, and I think if I start rereading my book (One Hundred Years of Solitude, one of my favorites) tonight, I should be able to finish it by then even though it's complex and you have to pay attention. Or maybe I'll reread Pet Sematary because that book is astounding. Or maybe... actually this post is long enough so I'll just stop now.
/awkward
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Humidity
What the fuck, San Diego?
Judging by my phone's weather app, it's currently 86 degrees (at 11 in the morning) and 51% humidity. FIFTY-ONE PERCENT. WHAT IS THIS.
"This" is abnormally high humidity, in case you couldn't tell. It is miserable. Last night it even started raining. RAINING. In the summer. IN THE DESERT. This is just not right. I mean, it was cool because we got that half-sun half-rain thing that almost never happens in winter so there was a rainbow, and rainbows are pretty and awesome, and it was one of those really well-formed and clear ones, but the point stands that walking outside in that rain to see the rainbow was totally almost not worth it because it felt like I walked outside into a sticky, asphalt-smelling swamp. I think summer rain smells terrible normally, like a humid nasty mess, but they recently paved my street so that strong, asphalt-y smell came up too and it was just awful. Plus, like I said, I felt like I was walking into a wall of warm water.
But, see, warm water doesn't bother me. I cannot take cold showers. I last about two minutes in them before I am like GET ME OUT NOW and then I never get clean and that's just not fun. I can handle lukewarm showers but I am pretty miserable the whole time. I have to have at least a warm shower, preferably a hot shower. Yes, even if it's 113 outside. Yes, I have taken a hot shower in these conditions. Twice. Something about humidity though, it's not anything like just plain old warm water. It's like sweat. It's exactly like some fat old hairy man sweated up in the sky and now it's all up in my atmosphere. And I do NOT find that okay.
Judging by my phone's weather app, it's currently 86 degrees (at 11 in the morning) and 51% humidity. FIFTY-ONE PERCENT. WHAT IS THIS.
"This" is abnormally high humidity, in case you couldn't tell. It is miserable. Last night it even started raining. RAINING. In the summer. IN THE DESERT. This is just not right. I mean, it was cool because we got that half-sun half-rain thing that almost never happens in winter so there was a rainbow, and rainbows are pretty and awesome, and it was one of those really well-formed and clear ones, but the point stands that walking outside in that rain to see the rainbow was totally almost not worth it because it felt like I walked outside into a sticky, asphalt-smelling swamp. I think summer rain smells terrible normally, like a humid nasty mess, but they recently paved my street so that strong, asphalt-y smell came up too and it was just awful. Plus, like I said, I felt like I was walking into a wall of warm water.
But, see, warm water doesn't bother me. I cannot take cold showers. I last about two minutes in them before I am like GET ME OUT NOW and then I never get clean and that's just not fun. I can handle lukewarm showers but I am pretty miserable the whole time. I have to have at least a warm shower, preferably a hot shower. Yes, even if it's 113 outside. Yes, I have taken a hot shower in these conditions. Twice. Something about humidity though, it's not anything like just plain old warm water. It's like sweat. It's exactly like some fat old hairy man sweated up in the sky and now it's all up in my atmosphere. And I do NOT find that okay.
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