Monday, November 30, 2009

nano

I'm 1438 words away from hitting 50,000 exactly.

I'm slightly panicked, having only 22 hours, 58 minutes left to finish. It's kinda freaking me out.

However, in 1500 words I will be able to say goodbye to "I Lost My Mind Month" and hello to "Catch Up On Life Month"

Mother of all that is holy! I can't type anymore tonight because I tried to give my rats their daily treat. And one of them latched onto my index finger and I flung her across the room. She is safely back in her cage and the bleeding has stopped. BUT DAMN that is painful.

Friday, November 27, 2009

I like when people tell me that they will do things and then one of these things happens:

1. They don't

2. They assume something that is wrong

3. I get pissed

4. All of the above

That would be why I didn't sleep last night. I was up ALL NIGHT after getting home at 10:30 pm. Because I thought I was going somewhere. And then I get a text saying that they left already and figured we'd meet up later because they didn't know I was home.

I was under the impression that MY CAR in the driveway was a good indicator. Or maybe the "Yes, I want to go with you. Let me know when you are leaving," wasn't specific enough.

I have no gas. Or gas money. I have the worst road rage in the world. I don't want to meet you anywhere unless it is your house. Which happens to be next door to mine...
4:00 am exactly.

I may or may not be going to Hell Erie for Black Friday shopping. (never got a call back or text on ETD...)
People come from other states because PA doesn't tax clothes. This makes me unhappy.
I just want a pair of jeans or something.
I'm taking my camera to document any craziness that ensues.

Also, Twitter alerted me that 2 hours ago one of my friend's was in line for something...what.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Sigh, I have so much to do. I have to finish my novel (two more chapters!). I have to clean my room. I have to eat so much turkey tomorrow and then again on Saturday. Also, working on the Xanadu drinking game.

Monday, November 23, 2009

NaNoWriMo

Ok, I'm about to hit 40,000 words in my novel. Which means I am about to accomplish something! Normally I give up on things quickly, but I don't know if its the whole "unemployment depression" or the encouragement from nearly everyone who knows I'm doing it...I am not giving up. Especially not this close to the end. And if I finish before hitting my word count, I'm simply changing all the contractions to not contractions and then changing them back for the proof they're sending me.

Did you see what I did right there? I was optimistic! That never happens. And tomorrow I'm going to start getting ready for Thanksgiving! AND my mom is getting her passport/green card updated on Wednesday. ONE STEP CLOSER TO GERMANY!! Oh man.

Also, if anyone knows where I can get Quark in Erie or surrounding cities (in PA), please let me know. I want to make "cheesecake" deliciousness, but it seems the US doesn't really carry Quark everywhere. Huh. :)

I (literally) was just handed a postcard from Timmi in Japan! Yay! Meinen Timmi, hab dich Lieb!
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Now playing: The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus - Face Down
via FoxyTunes
Dry skin is the worst.

Also, new nose ring! Woot woot!

Sunday, November 22, 2009

I Wanna Cool Rider, Too

Here's an idea, and it's way out there too:

How about someone in this family make a decision. I currently have 13 emails in my inbox about Thanksgiving.
Do we have a location? no
Do we have a day? no
Do we have a time? no
Do we have a turkey? 2
Who's cooking it? WHO KNOWS

This is the current situation:
About two weeks ago the email started "So, what does everyone think?" Everyone's reply was "not Thanksgiving day, but free otherwise." Yesterday, I was like "Ok, well its in a week, so perhaps we should pick a day for next weekend to do this." Every reply was "Saturday is good, but Sunday works too. What should I make?" To be completely honest, I couldn't give two shits about what food you make. How about we decide whose house, what time, and then we go on planning the menu? GAH!

I'm so effing close to just saying "Look, as Event Planner for an organization that I helped to start at Knox, I'm going to plan every Holiday gathering. Unless it is your child's birthday, let me do it. Because I want to get things done and on my Google Calendar. And I don't want to be sitting around at a friend's house when I get a call saying "Ok, time for Christmas!" because you guys couldn't decide whether or not to go to Grandma's or not."

HOWEVER (Rae, back me up), I know that if I said, "OK, I say we shoot for eating at 5 on Saturday at Grandma's. But we just bring everything so she doesn't have to work so hard." Half the people will get pissed because of the time I chose for eating (whether too early or too late). And at least one (a specific one) will get upset that someone like me chose, because I'm not an adult. (I'm sorry, I thought that voting, graduating college, entering the job market, and attempting to live on my own for the past 4 years was being an adult...I didn't catch the memo that you have to be married to be an adult).

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Now playing: Michelle Pfeiffer - Cool Rider
via FoxyTunes

Friday, November 20, 2009

Ich will nicht denken. Ich schlafe die ganze Tag, aber nicht während der Nacht. Das gefällt mir nicht.

Ich möchte etwas machen.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

So frustrated.

Car Crashing

I was up until about 5:45 a.m. working on NaNo...I didn't quite hit the goal, but I hit yesterday's so I think that counts. I was kinda upset about going to sleep because I was really feeling it. But I just couldn't. :(

However, I just woke up because of a terrifying dream. Normally I hate waking up from dreams without it having a definite ending, because that means I don't know how it ends: what is the answer to the puzzle, will that bear eat me, or am I going to die. With this particular dream, though, THANK GOD I did not stick around for the answer to any questions, not even "Did Melissa get that check to her mechanic?"

Melissa and I were driving down the main stretch of road between the next town over and our town, when she pulled into a parking lot to pay her mechanic for tires (something I knew she had to do in real life) but the only place to park was on this tiny little hill. Nothing new, this area is full of them. She drove over and parked, but as we were about to get out, I said, "I think this might not be safe," because the car was at a really extreme angle. So neither of us got out so she could move it.

But, before we could do anything, the car starting lifting up from the nose and tilting backwards. The small hill had transformed into a huge cliff and we were plummeting slowly down. As it was falling to land on its roof (I knew it would) I closed my eyes and thought, "Dear God, please let us be ok." We were falling really really slowly, and I looked out the window and could see the trees and rocks float slowly past and said, "Melissa?" I didn't turn to look at her and she just whispered, "I'm sorry."

Then I woke up.

Monday, November 16, 2009

stress...

I have a job interview in an hour. I'm freaking bored as hell. I need to get gas, so I have to leave in the 15 minutes. But I REALLY REALLY don't want to sit around thinking about how I'm going to screw this one up.

I wish I could just know if it was going to be worth my last $10 that was supposed to be used for my Top Chef night muffin on gas to drive the half hour to Staples.

Bloody Noses

Oh hey, Stef is posting a dream...WHAT? That never happens.
This one's short though.

I was sitting at my computer and blowing my nose. Which happens about 700 times a day with these rats living six feet away from my desk...And then I went out to the kitchen to ask my dad a question, but felt the need to blow my nose again. This time, blood started pouring out of it. And then it bled for like twenty minutes, while I had to read a note from someone telling me that I didn't deserve anything higher than an 87% on my review of a movie because "it was kind of bitchy" of me to be so harsh...the person who graded me's words, not mine.

The end.

Actually, the worst part of this dream is that when I woke up I thought it had really happened. Not the grade part, but the bloody nose.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

dream of death

Ok, this dream is going to be just bits and pieces in the second half cause I can't really remember it all.

I was with two other people, walking through the woods and came onto a field. (This would make much more sense if you knew the first house I lived in.) And then we walked past a garden, and there was a tiny little bear cub sleeping. Instead of stopping, cause I knew the mom would flip a shit, I just ran past and I was really sad that I couldn't take a picture. We went into the front yard (which is the front yard of my current house) and saw the golf cart was now across the street. We looked into the small group of trees and saw some witchdoctors standing around the mom. One of them spotted us and started chasing us. She had really long dreads, and when I turned to see where she was, she was only a few feet away and morphed into a bear. We got into the golf cart and tried to drive away, but she somehow died. I think she got shot.

So, second half: The three of us get to this building that resembles a museum. Some things happen and a baby T-Rex gets loose and starts chasing us around. Other stuff happens, we lock him in a room. He sees us running away and breaks through a window in that room. More chasing. In the end, I get eaten. (Kind of like a pathetic Jurassic Park)
I feel nothing.
I feel everything.
I don't like this feeling.

I have been trying to not be critical of NaNoWriMo, and how I sometimes feel that it is stupid for a bunch of non-writers (and I'm sure writers) to get together and write some arbitrary number of words with no editing. Who chose 50,000 words? Couldn't a novel be shorter? And heaven knows they can be longer...just ask Stephen King. And it's not that I can't do it. But I don't like this feeling of not meeting goals that other people have set for me. I could write everyday, but it wouldn't be the best I can do. I get into writing moods, and in these moods I can crank out 3000 - 7000 words. But I can't write 1,667 everyday.

This is why I wasn't a creative writing anything in college. How can someone say, "You have to be creative this week and write a twenty page short story," without feeling like a dick? I'm sure Stephen King isn't always creative. And I'm sure Hemingway took time out of his writing to do things other than be creative...(actually I'm positive he did, because I wrote a paper on him). What if I'm not feeling creative? And what if I'm having a bad week? And then how can they give me a useless and subjective grade on something that they forced me to write, without thinking about whether it was my week to shine? What if they had waited til the next week? Also, what if what this person thinks is a C short story, is an A short story to someone else?

What I'm trying to say is that NaNo shouldn't tell me that I didn't "win" because I only made it to 49,000 words.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Quarter Life Crises

Not five minutes ago, I was peeing. And while I was peeing I came across a mahvelous idea. I now have four options for my life (cause my cousin keeps backing out of the whole Stef becomes the live-in nanny deal...you know, by not getting pregnant.)

1. Kill myself because I am sitting around wasting gas to go apply at every place of business in Meadville, Guys Mills, Saegertown, and all the other cities/towns within twenty miles of my house. I also killing trees with every application that gets the overqualified stamp of disapproval. Also, I'm being kind of dick to my bank by making them pay off my debts with my overdraft protection. Because I have $6 in there.

2. Run away to Germany to live with my Grandparents who will love me and get me fresh poppy seed buns every morning to eat with the delicious mixed berry jam. I can then also use my free time to take pictures of beautiful cityscapes and the country side, and become an expert in beer drinking. Also, I can get some sweet job making the aforementioned poppy seed buns of pure joy. Seriously, the buns at the bakery down the street from their apartment are like mouth orgasms. Ok, this option is looking so much better with every passing second. Or! I could work in Legoland. OR! OMG, the zoo in Munich. God, please let this one be the one that happens, k?

3. Get off my high horse and work in a factory. Factories are below me ever since I got my TWO degrees. I have moral issues with the fact that this town prides itself in its plastics...cause plastics might make it possible (whatever the hell that means), but they also make it possible for poor little sea turtles to choke to death. And I'm all about sea turtles. My nickname iused to be CrushDude...well, not really. (Yeah, Finding Nemo reference, I'm that awesome.) But seriously, if I read over #1 enough times, I will get over the fact that I am way overqualified, and that they will pay me to cut the excess off some stupid, useless piece of plastic, while I burn the shit out of my fingers.

4. I'm just going to sit in my room/the pub library studying for the MAT and then get into Edinboro's Masters in Counseling program. And then I will dedicate the rest of my life (for two years) to researching bullying and either its relationship with adoption or this other one that is hard to explain, so I will use examples. Ex. 1: A girl is picked on because she would rather play sports than with barbies. Ex. 2: A boy is picked on because he would rather color than play football. Basically gender role "rebels" who get bullied. (I'm totally basing this off my childhood and my cousins.) The only holds I see with this one are: it costs money to go to grad school, some parents don't tell their children they are adopted, and how do I operationalize gender stereotypes/roles and bullying. (And I'll just send a shout-out to Tim Kasser, Ph.D. for making me think that last one.)

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

My Dreams Are Epic (and long)

I think my unconscious read my blog post. Cause I had a dream that I remembered! Another long one, but after I die, it gets really effed up)
Some things that may help this dream flow and make a little bit of sense:
  • Ochocinco is a player for the Bengals
  • Seth has one sister, we have never met, and she is the oldest
  • I read a "feminist" blog post last night that did nothing but bash men (sexism goes both ways)
  • Nick was not my favorite Backstreet Boy, just sayin'
Ok, so I do believe this dream starts out in my high school and I'm walking down the hall to my class with, yeah you guessed it, Sonja (cause what other teacher has ever made an appearance?) Class lets out and I pull my jacket on and put my bag on my shoulder (seems not important, but just...calm yourself). I begin to walk away, but she stops me and says, "So, I just wanted to point out that Nick is here and he's giving out candy. And since it's your birthday, you might want to get a piece." She smiled and then leaned in really close, "I don't hate all men."

Cut to me walking down the hall and get to my locker just in time for Nick to be walking past and he hands me a stick of gum and says, "Happy Birthday" and kisses me on the cheek. There's no foil left on it, just this flimsy little wrapper that says "Pink." Well, I get pissed because everyone else got suckers, but I should feel special because mine is different. But after he walks away, I take a bag of blowpops out of the locker next to mine and shove the gum in. Now it's time for me to go to lunch. But I exit the science wing and scurry past the cafeteria so the teachers can't see me.

I end up in this room that is similar to the area just inside Knox's library, with the soft chairs around a table. And there are two professors sitting there and I take off my coat and bag. We started talking about shit and before you know it, it's time for me to go home, cause it's 3:58. But while I'm pulling on my jacket and putting my bag onto my shoulder (see) the exact same way as before, a CD labeled "mom" falls out of my pocket. I keep trying to hide it before I they see it, but they do and start making snide comments about Sonja, who BTW is not my mom in this dream. And then I said, "Why is it so bad to have a role model? And she's not like other feminists that just bash men. She told me she loves some men. And that not all men are dicks."

So I button up my coat and take my CD and start walking home. I meet up with a bunch of people and we get to the edge of this forest thing. I don't remember why, but I ended up walking into the woods and got attacked by these giant spiders. And I don't just mean giant for a spider, we're talking like grizzly sized spiders. My friends started yelling, "Ochocinco! Watch out!" and one of the spiders bites me in the back of the leg. From the ground I can see the white stuff gather on their lips and then they morphed into aliens and hatcheted me to death. (end of dream? HECK NO!)

Ok, so while I'm dying, I go on what can closely be described as an acid trip. I could hear my friends yelling for me, that they didn't want me to die, and that they were going to miss me, but it started being drown (is that the word/tense) out by white noise, accompanied by rainbow colors and these little white blobs with faces dancing. After floating through this, I end up back on Knox campus, but covered in blood and surrounded by other students covered in blood.

Well, it's Flunk Day and all us dead students are pissed that we can't go, so we make our own and invite the live people. (Something about dying before we finished something...I don't know, think Casper.) So, while people are setting up the slip & slide bowling alley, I start walking around looking for Sonja to say good-bye (because that is my unfinished business, and if you know me in any way or have read my blog ever, this is what I would do in real life... or real death?) However, I get side-swiped by Seth's family and his dad is like "OH HEY!" and I'm like "Yeah, Hi. Look I gotta go find someone" and he's like "Why don't you play with Emily?!!" "Um, who?" "Seth's little sister Emily. We've been hiding her."

So I take her into this abandoned house (naturally) and I do this tarot-like thing with the letters of her name and she starts freaking when I get to the E, so I end up stopping. They disappear and I see all the dead people having lots of fun out the window, so I get on Facebook to find out why the hell I haven't seen Sonja. I search her name and I can read her status and it says, "Sonja ___ has gone back to her old teaching school in Greenville, Pa." "WHAT!?!" Oh wait, that's not her, because she doesn't even have a Facebook. And so I go back outside and one of the friends that was in the woods with me, puts a purple tiara on me. And tells me I have to play with the slip & slide bowling. So while they're hooking her up, I run like hell away and I'm looking at everyone in the crowds, just wanting to get my unfinished business out of the way because I want to cross-over. And then I finally spot her, walk up and say, "Hey, I just needed to say..."

YEAH. I FUCKING WOKE UP.
I opened this tab to blog about twenty minutes ago. And then I got distracted and have no idea what I was going to blog about.

I do know, however that I was in a good mood, read something of a friend's, and then was in a bad mood.

Or maybe its because God hates me today.

Monday, November 09, 2009

I haven't been remembering my dreams lately. It's really upsetting me.

Apparently they haven't been significant. But I want to remember them.

Maybe its because I've been drugging myself up with caffeine.

Saturday, November 07, 2009

I think my writing is best done between 11 pm and 6 am. I can't seem to even bust out 1oo words at any other time. But I sit down and start typing that late, and next thing you know, I've gotten 2000 words out.

I think it's because out here in the country, there is no noise after roughly 10 pm. No one drives down this road except the people who live here. And since the average age of those people is probably 65, no one is awake that late. The only real distraction I have is Facebook, which I find impossible to just close. It really makes no sense.

Anyway, I just broke 14,000 words and I still have a ton of outline left to cover, so I'm gonna get back to that. Maybe someday I will get to the 2000 things I have in Google Reader that I intend to read "tomorrow," but they are from 2008...

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Now playing: Spice Girls - Never Give Up On The Good Times
via FoxyTunes

Friday, November 06, 2009

I have quite an odd obsession with pepperoni.

I want it on my sandwich. My pizza. My cheese. My tongue.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

I plan to make it through my next period without spending a cent on products. And no, this does not mean I'll be using things left over from before.

I am all about free stuff, so the fact that I've gotten about 12 tampons/pads in the last couple days is just amazing. That shit is expensive. And the $3 I get every 10 days from doing surveys is not going to support my biology.

I also started collecting coupons. Because I'm a 35-year-old housewife?

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Now playing: Olivia Newton-John - Gaia
via FoxyTunes
There was an ancestry.com commercial just on. And this guy says, "We were told my (great? I don't know he was old) grandfather fought for Germany in WWI. But when they released the draft card, we discovered he had actually fought for America. It makes me even prouder to be an American."

Um, I don't know why. But I found this offensive. Even if he hadn't picked Germany...like, so what if your grandpa fought for a different country? A lot of the people in America (coughnearlyeveryonecough) has ancestry from another country. Get over yourself.

I'm fine with the fact that my grandpa fought in WWII for Germany. He did what he had to do.
I just put my headphones in, in an attempt to drown out all the other noises around me. The large scary animal that keeps walking on my front porch, the rats, and, ironically, the soft clicking of my keyboard.

It is 3:33 am and I am wired. I took an Excedrin Tension Headache pill around like 7 and the caffeine has me buzzed as hell.

I think I got bit by the creative insomniac bug, because my NaNoWriMo is up to just over 5,700 words. And I've got more. The magic is pouring forth from my fingertips. The only regret I have is not being able to type as fast as I can think.

Update on my saline solution game: The palm tree sculpture from my 11th grade ceramics class - yes!

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Now playing: The Cardigans - No Sleep
via FoxyTunes

Monday, November 02, 2009

My New Game

I have this spray can of saline solution that Nikki gave me for my piercings. Ever since I started NaNoWriMo (you know, yesterday...), I started getting really frustrated at my extreme obsession with grammar. Because I am not supposed to edit things, just write. Anyway, every couple hours I find something in my room that won't be ruined and then see if I can hit it with my spray can. I realize that sounds like I throw my can at it...I meant that I "pull the trigger" and see if I can spritz shit.

My results thus far:
Rat Cage - no
TV - yes
tote of fabric scraps - yes

update:
Aardvark statue - no, but the tv underneath it...still a yes
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Now playing: The Cardigans - My Favourite Game
via FoxyTunes