I’m brilliant

3 Apr

in the car, me smacking on a huge gum ball

Me: I just had a thought – If I chewed gum all the time I could lose weight in my face. It would work the muscles and burn fat. I could get rid of these chubby cheeks. Face exercising. Oooo! I could have a workout video and my own brand of exercise gum. I’m telling you, this could be something.

BF: You’re adorable.

Take your peacock and shove it

27 Feb

My credit card number was stolen yesterday. I think it was at a gas pump. They can do that now apparently, put some device on the card reader or something. Seems like that kind of know-how you could go get a job doing something lucrative and NOT FUCKING ILLEGAL.

I was out when I got the text – “Withdrawal Alert: Your debit card has been charged $140.98 on some bullshit website that sells ugly formal dresses”. At first I was pissed. How dare they steal my hard earned dollars from me. Then I was more pissed because of how much I love shopping. Clothes were bought with MY money and they weren’t for me?! Sons of bitches.

I called my bank immediately. This was my debit card so I didn’t want the assholes getting all of my money and spending it on shit they didn’t need before I could spend it on shit I didn’t need. The woman was very nice and apologetic and I asked her, “Will you notify the merchant right away?”

“Well,” she said, “Our first concern is getting you your money back and then we’ll hand it over to the merchant and it will be their responsibility.”

“I only ask because I don’t want these people getting that dress.” She laughed. It wasn’t a joke.

I can’t help but wonder what the dress looks like. I’m assuming it’s tacky because no person with any taste or style would dream of stealing from an innocent stranger, right? In my head it’s sea foam green taffeta with ruffles, bows, and poofy shoulders. It’s probably has a sequined peacock down the side. Fuck you and your peacock, thief. I HOPE YOUR PARTY SUCKS!

Taste the Rainbow

26 Feb

I’ve never been very good with relationships. They don’t get to the “long term” part because one of us always shows our crazy too soon. Mostly my crazy. Sometimes immediately.

Now, however, I am dating the greatest guy in the whole wide world. (I was going to say universe but I don’t want him to get a big head.) We’re even Facebook Official which, from what I understand, is almost as serious as being married. Maybe more so. I think if we break up I actually can sue for half of his shit. “But we told Facebook, Your Honor.” “Oh, well in that case…”

I know I like this one because I’ve made a real effort to control my crazy. I’m not talking about the quirky crazy. He thinks it’s cute that I violently wave my hand and try to magically make cars in front of me in traffic disappear* and politely listens as I explain how all Honda CRVs are conspiring against me**. I’ve told him that I don’t poop or fart and the only thing that comes out of my butt are rainbows. This has made Skittles commercials both hilarious and incredibly disgusting, yet he sticks around. He’s actually joined in my red panda obsession and plots with me how we can steal a couple and keep them as pets.

cuddle

I’m talking about that crazy where I burst into tears for no reason or hide in the closet rocking back and forth wailing about how worthless I am. That crazy seems to be under control for the time being. I’d like to accredit it to him, that he makes me so happy he’s made it all disappear. To some degree that’s true – he’s made me so happy that I’ve actually started wanting to be better. I finally went to the doctor and changed one of my prescriptions. It’s made a world of difference.

For the first time in as long as I can remember I’m ridiculously happy. The only thing that could make it better are pet red pandas. And maybe some Skittles.

*This WILL happen one day.
**They are They really are.

Blank pages

12 Apr

notebooksWhile looking through my room last night I found, in various places, 4 beautiful blank notebooks differing in size and design. If I looked further I assure you I’d find many more.

It is a habit of mine when come across one of these in a store to snatch it up without so much as a second thought. I’m drawn to their hard covers and crisp, clean pages. The thought is always that one day I will fill those pages with stories and wisdom learned during the course of my ridiculous life.

But they remain blank. One was even still in it’s box, wrapped in tissue paper.

Every time I pick one up and think about putting pen to paper I stop myself. “My handwriting isn’t pretty enough,” I say. “The words aren’t good enough.” Because once in that book, it is permanent. These books are too perfect to ruin with sloppy penmanship and jumbled thoughts.

Sometimes I just stare at the lines hoping that any minute, like magic, “it” will come to me. Just one word. I just need to find that one word and the rest will follow but my mind is as blank as the page so I once again slide the notebook into a drawer or place it on a bookshelf vowing to try again another day.

The sad fact is, I’m a writer without a story. Can you think of anything worse?! Well, other than war…and famine…and dead puppies…and Republicans… Okay, so it’s not THE worst but it is very frustrating. Especially when people say, “You should write a book.”

And I don’t want to write about what I write about. I want to show you Gatsby’s world. I want to introduce you to Heathcliff. I want to make you fall in love with Mr. Darcy. I don’t want to write about poop, beer, and…more poop. I want to make you feel the sadness of Ophelia going mad and mourn her death. I want to create characters that stay with you forever.

One day. Maybe. Until then I continue to stare at the pages waiting for an epiphany.

10 reasons why I’m not an adult

3 Apr

1.) I get my groceries from the gas station. In my defense, it is a nice gas station. They have hotdogs on that rolly thing and flavored coffee.

2.) The other day I thought, “If I had a kid I could name it None of Your Business so when people asked what his name was he could say it and everyone would think he’s rude!!” I might have been intoxicated at the time. I still think it’s a good idea.

3.) I like Ke$ha. A lot. For real.

4.) I have sucked my thumb since I was born and will continue to do so until the day I die.

5.) A good majority of my underwear are covered in cartoon characters: Oscar the Grouch, Sesame Street, Cookie Monster, Animal, Angry Birds, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Superman.

6.) If I don’t have clean underwear sometimes I wear bathing suit bottoms.

7.) Last weekend was considered productive because I got my hair re-toned in the pink and red and sent an email requesting a consultation for my new tattoo. I didn’t get a tattoo. I didn’t get a consultation. I just sent an email and I put that in the win column.

8.) Renewing my passport has been on top of my priority list since it expired…in 1999.

9.) Tupperware doesn’t last around here because, instead of washing them, I just throw them away.

10.) I have Disney’s 1951 version of Alice in Wonderland on my phone and watch it all the time. My ringtone is The Walrus and the Carpenter. I really wish they made Alice in Wonderland underwear.

They say a picture is worth a 1000 words

14 Mar

This one almost leaves me speechless:

What ISN'T wrong with this picture?

What ISN’T wrong here?

Let’s discuss, shall we?

This was taken in 1990, right before I started 7th grade. As you can see, I have always been up on modern technology trends. I was quite fond of my very cool camera with it’s 110 film. If you look through my assortment of photographs from that timeframe you will realize that I am indeed part Asian. I have a ton of pictures of absolutely nothing…including pictures of people taking pictures of me taking pictures of them.

Next you will notice that I am rocking the braces. I actually wore those things 2 years longer than I should have because the orthodontist I had been going to just wanted more money. When I moved and found a new orthodontist they informed us I shouldn’t have been wearing them anymore and we sued the first orthodontist who was a jackhole for making me go through that shit. There’s a special place in hell for that guy.

Don’t ask about my hair. I don’t know what that is or why it’s nappy on one side. This was just before I permed my bangs. Because, you know, if you perm them then you don’t have to curl them with a curling iron in the morning before you tease them up. You can just go straight to the teasing. Or someone would have thought. Needless to say, that didn’t work out so well.

Lastly, let us explore my completely health, totally normal, obsession with Joey McIntyre. I’m just kind of glad you can’t see the rest of the room. I think at that point I probably had posters on the ceiling. The Big Bopper and Tiger Beat were my crack. I am fairly certain I still have posters somewhere. For real.

After seeing all this I bet you will find it hard to believe that I was not very popular in Jr High.

Crazy talk

12 Mar

Sorry I haven’t posted recently. I’ve been so busy…and by busy I mean drunk. You don’t want to read drunk posts by me. They’d either be totally sloppy sobby or completely incoherent. Although, now that I think about it, it might not be a bad idea. Plus it gives me another excuse to drink.

Anywho, I woke up this morning with a brilliant idea. Stay with me here because it’s so off the wall I’m not sure you’re going to be able to handle it. I mean, it’s really crazy. Like SO out there I might be carted off to the insane asylum. Are you ready? Are you really ready? I’ve decided that from now on. I’m going to start living. My life. For me.

Bam! How do you like that?!

No more worrying whether or not so-and-so is going to be okay or needs anything. No more going out of my way to help. No more wasting my time. You need something? Do it yourself, get it yourself, or go fuck yourself.

I am fully aware that I am to blame for people taking advantage of me. I let it happen and I encouraged it because I like the feeling I get when I make someone else happy. I had money saved up for something that I really wanted but instead of just getting it, I talked myself out of it saying it would be better off spent on others. That’s on me, but now it’s getting to the point where it’s expected and that ain’t cool.

I can not even tell you the weight that was lifted when I came to this epiphany. Of course! How silly of me! Do things for myself? What a novel idea. It only took 35 years to come up with it.

Well, I can’t take full credit for it. A very dear friend, who is my confidant and keeps me as sane as possible, said to me one day, “Do it for you,” and I was all, “Do what? Masturbate?” then he said yes and the conversation took weird turn but eventually came back around. “Fuck everyone else.” After I clarified that he wasn’t being literal, I realized that I might be happy if I let just myself be.

And, apparently, if I got laid.

Things I irrationally hate

1 Mar

Coexist bumper stickers. Keep in mind, this is coming from the girl that asks for World Peace for Christmas. I know these things are supposed to be all about love and harmony and all that bullshit but I really hate that your car, if you can call a Prius a car, is telling me what to do. Go fuck yourself, car. I’m going to hate people just because you told me not to. AND THE STAR OF DAVID LOOKS NOTHING LIKE AN X!!

coexist

People who back in to parking spots. I don’t get it. It takes you longer to back into a parking space than it does to back out of one so you’re not saving any time. What you’re saying is you have all the time in the world when you first get to a place but need that extra 2 seconds to make a quick getaway when you leave? That’s suspicious. People who back into parking spaces should be investigated for illegal activity.

Talking on the phone. Do you know why they invented the text message? So we wouldn’t have to speak to each other. I don’t even text words anymore. If it’s not a Someecard relaying a message close to what I want to say to you then it’s a gif of a cat waving. This is how I communicate now. Get used to it and stop insisting we talk. Talking is SO 2009.

Who needs words when you have this?

Who needs words when you have this?

That guy. You know, the one that everyone loves? I hate that guy. He’s nice, he’s sweet, he’s handsome. He compliments and notices when you’ve bought something new. There’s something wrong that guy and chances are we’re all going to find out what it is when it’s too late. Just remember, everyone thought Ted Bundy was charming, too.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

27 Feb

I’m taking a few steps back on that whole growing up things. Being adult-like isn’t all that fun so I chopped off all my hair, dyed it black, and threw in some pink and red while I was at it.

This was a good idea, right?

This was a good idea, right?

When people comment on my new ‘do, I tell them it’s call “The Midlife Crisis”. Those that know me, smirk and nod. Those that don’t, scoff. “How can you have a midlife crisis at 35?” I tell them that I’ve come to the depressing realization that there’s no way that I will live to see 70. I may already be well past midlife because my lifestyle is far from healthy and liver takes a beating. I drink more than a stripper’s stepdad on bowling league night. I will be shocked if I make it to retirement. So, I’ve decided that I’m going to continue regressing maturity wise.

My new hair makes me feel good though so mission accomplished. It’s short and fun. I haven’t been this giddy in awhile. Even my boss likes it. He admitted that after he told me that it looks like a fishing lure he uses to catch swordfish or wahoo. He has suggested I stay away from the ocean for awhile.

This whole adult thing is hard

22 Feb

Where exactly does one go to buy a mattress? I’m asking for a friend. A friend named Me.

The only major purchase I’ve ever made is my last car and I’m not sure I even did that right. I signed a bunch of papers and they let me leave with it so I’m guessing I didn’t fuck it up. But if someone shows up to take it, I won’t be completely surprised.

How, you’re probably wondering, do I have anything? Well, when something dies, like let’s say my washing machine, I just ask for a new one from my dad as a Christmas/Birthday present. Unfortunately, both holidays (yes, my birthday is a holiday) have passed and as spoiled as I am I’m not sure I can get Daddy to buy me a belated President’s day or Yay! It’s Almost March present.

The other night I explained this to my date and asked him how someone would go about making such a purchase, because, you know, I like to be up front about how clueless and spoiled I am with a person I could possibly have a relationship with. What you see is what you get. I’m not going to pretend to be normal to get you in my grasp and then spring the crazy on you later. I lead with the crazy…and that is probably why I’m single.

But I digress.

Floyd, an alias for him we’ve mutually agreed on, to his credit did not outwardly react to the ridiculousness of my inquiry. He simply said, “Google it, Agatha.”* And I did. And there are actual articles!

Did you know that there are different types of mattresses? Apparently all these years my mom has been buying me ones consumers refer to as “harder than caveman beds” but I could have been sleeping on something called “plush”. In my head I imagine those ones are made of clouds and kittens. I wanna sleep on clouds and kittens.

Did you also know that if you buy a mattress most places will deliver it AND take away your old one? I cannot even begin to explain how long and hard I’ve thought about how I was going to get a queen sized mattress home with my little VW Beetle convertible. As for the old one, it would probably have become the new dog bed because I have no idea what you do with oversized trash like that. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have just dragged it into the trash room and I think the nearest dump is in West Virginia.

So, this weekend I have blocked off time to go shopping for new bed. This sounds pretty much like heaven. Shopping and spending hours on my back? Yes, please. I get to go bed hopping and this time it’s not going to end in a pregnancy scare. Win.

*Okay, so he didn’t call me Agatha but that’s the alias that we gave me even though I don’t need one because this is my blog and my real name is in the title. I just wanted to bring it up because I like it a lot.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 935 other followers