My complete goal list is to come but I have been mulling over some ones that MUST happen:
1. Pay off debt!!!!
2. Stop being so f-ing sensitive!!
3. NEVER contact a dude with the exception of it being boss/relative. Period.
4. GET NEW JOB!!!!!!!
5. Stop wearing pants with holes in the crotch!
6. Become ABLAZZZZZIIIIINGGGGG dancer! what what!
7. Quit eating stuff that totally f-s with my stomach!!!
8. Get laid.
9. Go on a date. Ever.
10. Spread cheer!
11. REGULATE.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Trees, what what!!!
Pink tree up in the living room, goes glorious with the hot pink rug!!!
The Roc!!!
Too bad he came out dark. This little critter light up and sings "Jingle Bells". He shimmys and is a true gem. Every once in a while he takes shimmying breaks. The roommate and I have spent countless hours trying to get the timing down so we stop when he does.Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Work, who does that?!
My productivity level and motivation at work is at an all-time low. Well, maybe not quite as bad as last year around this time when I was in fear of getting arrested from letting a kid make a copy of a dollar bill in my office. That was ROUGH. Police interrogations, not so fun.
Anyway. Sunday, did not sleep well aka AT ALL. Tossing and turning, thinking and blah, blah, blah.
Monday, I show up to work at 7:22 am, 38 minutes early. I cannot handle being there. AT ALL. I call my boss and leave a most ridiculous message. Something along the lines of: "Hey Rob, really tired. Blah blah. Got to work early, blah. May have breakdown. Blah. Cannot handle being here. Blah. Must go sleep. Blah. Aaaah, sorry."
My co-worker whom I have not seen in over a week (she was off preaching in Kentucky last week...what?!) came in. All of a sudden I think maybe I am overreacting and should stay. I'm back on with Rob's voice messaging system, when W (co-worker) makes some sort comment portraying her disgust in the Christmas music I'm playing. It's the only thing keeping me alive! I hang up on my boss' messaging system and peace the fudge out.
I obviously fall up the stairs leaving the train. I then park myself down on a random bench for 10 minutes. The reason, I am not sure. Then I go to bed for four hours.
Anyway. Sunday, did not sleep well aka AT ALL. Tossing and turning, thinking and blah, blah, blah.
Monday, I show up to work at 7:22 am, 38 minutes early. I cannot handle being there. AT ALL. I call my boss and leave a most ridiculous message. Something along the lines of: "Hey Rob, really tired. Blah blah. Got to work early, blah. May have breakdown. Blah. Cannot handle being here. Blah. Must go sleep. Blah. Aaaah, sorry."
My co-worker whom I have not seen in over a week (she was off preaching in Kentucky last week...what?!) came in. All of a sudden I think maybe I am overreacting and should stay. I'm back on with Rob's voice messaging system, when W (co-worker) makes some sort comment portraying her disgust in the Christmas music I'm playing. It's the only thing keeping me alive! I hang up on my boss' messaging system and peace the fudge out.
I obviously fall up the stairs leaving the train. I then park myself down on a random bench for 10 minutes. The reason, I am not sure. Then I go to bed for four hours.
Taco Boy
September 10th...or not. Does it matter?!
Note to Taco Boy:
Dear Taco Dude,
Please give me a ring if you ever want to get Mexican (food/not people) sometime.
*my number*
You're welcome,
Kristen
He has never called. At first, I was convinced I somehow wrote "your" instead of "you're" and that it turned him off. I'll never know.
Note to Taco Boy:
Dear Taco Dude,
Please give me a ring if you ever want to get Mexican (food/not people) sometime.
*my number*
You're welcome,
Kristen
He has never called. At first, I was convinced I somehow wrote "your" instead of "you're" and that it turned him off. I'll never know.
Cat's Dead, Gotta Move.
I'm pretty Terrible Town at keeping up with this Bad Larry. Must improve with my diligency ASAP! Playing catch-up is NEVER fun!!
Of course, having a computer that is not on the verge of death would help in this matter....
Anyway, since the last entry, way back in the fall, much has gone down.
For instance, September 8th-DEAD CAT!!!!!!!! This sucked hardcore to say the least. This is how it went down: Come home from work circa 5 pm, Slash greets me at the door. His collar is missing. This disappoints me so for it took me months to get it. Damn peeps at the pet place, not so reliable. The collar was pretty badass too, fish bones, etc. Anyway, collar missing. Cats are notorious for ripping those guys off so I didn't think too much about it.
So, anyway, I get home from dance around 10:00 pm to DEAD FUCKING CAT!!! That's right, DEAD CAT!!! Slash is laying infront of my window, tail poofed out, eyes open, DEAD. I am DEVASTATED, in SHOCK!, sad!!!!! The first people I think to call are my parents. Naturally, they are on vacation in damn mountains and have no phone reception whatsoever. I did not realize this and just thought they had turned off their phones. I left messages such as: "It'd be really great if you turned on your phone because my cat is DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDD!!!", etc.
Charlie ended up coming over. Since I was devastated in one of those we could die at any moment moods, I made her come with me to see if Taco Boy was working so I could hit on him. He was not. That's a whole nother story. Nother?? Is that a word?! Anyway, we then went to Matchless and I got bent. I bonded big time with the bouncer, Lou (?), and yelled "my cats dead" as boys walked by. They ran over to me.
Jane and her boy Carl/Karl burried Slash in the yard next to mine. I burried him with a note and one of his favorite toys and made a tombstone. A couple of weekends later, I came out of my apartment to find random people digging up the yard. WTF.
Wednesday, September 9th-new landlord informed me that my rent would be going up "slightly", from $700 to $1000. No big deal.
Hate life.
RIP Slash
Of course, having a computer that is not on the verge of death would help in this matter....
Anyway, since the last entry, way back in the fall, much has gone down.
For instance, September 8th-DEAD CAT!!!!!!!! This sucked hardcore to say the least. This is how it went down: Come home from work circa 5 pm, Slash greets me at the door. His collar is missing. This disappoints me so for it took me months to get it. Damn peeps at the pet place, not so reliable. The collar was pretty badass too, fish bones, etc. Anyway, collar missing. Cats are notorious for ripping those guys off so I didn't think too much about it.
So, anyway, I get home from dance around 10:00 pm to DEAD FUCKING CAT!!! That's right, DEAD CAT!!! Slash is laying infront of my window, tail poofed out, eyes open, DEAD. I am DEVASTATED, in SHOCK!, sad!!!!! The first people I think to call are my parents. Naturally, they are on vacation in damn mountains and have no phone reception whatsoever. I did not realize this and just thought they had turned off their phones. I left messages such as: "It'd be really great if you turned on your phone because my cat is DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDD!!!", etc.
Charlie ended up coming over. Since I was devastated in one of those we could die at any moment moods, I made her come with me to see if Taco Boy was working so I could hit on him. He was not. That's a whole nother story. Nother?? Is that a word?! Anyway, we then went to Matchless and I got bent. I bonded big time with the bouncer, Lou (?), and yelled "my cats dead" as boys walked by. They ran over to me.
Jane and her boy Carl/Karl burried Slash in the yard next to mine. I burried him with a note and one of his favorite toys and made a tombstone. A couple of weekends later, I came out of my apartment to find random people digging up the yard. WTF.
Wednesday, September 9th-new landlord informed me that my rent would be going up "slightly", from $700 to $1000. No big deal.
RIP Slash
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Aaah, yeah....
September 2, 2009!
I got back from my SEN/SUN-sational trip to Cali yesterday circa 2 am. I hadn't worked in DAYS. I'm not a lazy person-I have two jobs and though I complain, I do it with flair. But I needed a BREAK. So, in order for me to hit up the left coast to visit my best friend, Ca$h Bird, and westside crew, I had to borrow 28 hours of vacation time. Also known as, I borrowed 4 days of vacation that I didn't have plus took off another day off with the few hours of vaca time that I actually did have. So, I get back yesterday. I could technically have worked considering I got back in the way early am. But instead, I decided to call out. The thought of going back THERE causes me high level of anxieties and I am not into it. I honestly always thought I ENJOYED working but during vacation, I came to the conclusion that I cannot picture myself working...at all...
Ugh.
In my defense however, I was quite tired from the hellish plane ride, change of time and having a solo dance party to Pitbull's ever catchy (and terrible) "Hotel Room Service" when I got home instead of going to bed.
Anyway, day off=success. Really a good time. I'm telling you, not working is definitely the way to go. My amigo Charlie and I rendezvoused without purpose all over NYC per usual, took in the super amazing "Inglorious Basterds" and went to hip hop you don't stop (dance class=0bsessed) and then walked home from dance because really, what's another 4 miles?! Ridiculous. After the walk we decided to hit up the local grocery shop where I purchased my weekly goods circa 12 am. Nuts.
Didn't really sleep too soundly. Working out late equals drinking liquids late which equals me peeing nonstop. At one point I got up and spied a huge-ass centipede gracing my walls. I killed that mother fucker so quick it is seriously unbelievable. Last year it would have taken me literally hours to kill it. I'd spray and freak out and then spray and then freak out and then spray and then feel sick inside, etc. This year, not so much. My killing skills have improved drastically. So good! I got up in the middle of the night and with one fatal SHWOOOP of my winter boots=DEAD. Score! So proud.
After the killing, I checked on my the status of my dying Ipod. Water damage, so lame. Especially considering I had just bought the most adorable Ipod case ever and they stopped selling the Nano 3rd Generation, totally lame. I bought the 4th Generation yesterday because I know that without my music I will seriously put a stye in someone's eye. Still, I had hope for my old guy...Plus, I really wanted to return the new one so as to save some dough. Eh, c'est la vie. Whoa, off subject shocker....
I pep talked myself all the way to work. My could-care-less attitude that stems from just being on vacation and also, really not caring, helped me bear the heat semi-well. My super religious (think: cult!) co-worker and I get to chatting. I tell her how I just got into grad school for counseling but I'm not sure what it is I exactly want to do anymore.
The conversation goes down as followed:
Me: I got into Fordham for counseling but I'm not really sure what I want to do anymore. I sort of want to interior decorate, have my own variety show, teach and event plan. Maybe I should just waitress full time? Ah, I don't know...
SRC: Have you ever wondered why you have so many questions?
Me: Well, I'm very indecisive.
SRC: But will you ever be satisfied, happy?!
Me: I am happy! I am always happy. I just have a lot of random interests. I'm a Gemini afterall.
SRC: You're obviously missing something or else you wouldn't have so many questions. I used to be like you until I found the way.
Me: I'm good, seriously.
SRC: Do you ever think about why we are here on Earth?
Me: Uuugh...
SRC: I'll have to bring you one Saturday (*referencing her church in NEW JERSEY), but only when you're ready. It may not be time for you yet, but don't worry, it'll always be there. One day, one day.
Me: I'm not so sure about that.
SRC: What do you have to lose?
Me: I'm very happy and content with my life. I'm not interested!!!!!
*CHANGE THE SUBJECT*
That whole scene actually went on for a bit longer but I can't remember EVERYTHING. A few moments later I talked about how I love doing crafts with the students especially around the holidays and she said that she is not into the holidays, that's all up to me. Of course she isn't. Also, a few weeks ago, I asked her on a Monday how her weekend was. She lit up, talked about her Saturday aka religious gathering all day and then how she preached on the streets Sunday..."So many people are living lies," she said. "Oh, um, not you though. I don't mean you."
Later on today...I'm at work and one of the school safety shows my co-worker and I an image on her phone of a dog dogging (if you catch my drift...sick) a woman, totally disturbing and I'm so not into this. I'm thinking that it's one of those digital doings but she goes off talking about how women (especially white women in Manhattan) are into crazy shit involving dogs. "Don't you see how all those women have big dogs, no men?!" And then she proceeds to tell me that a woman in Manhattan had been impregnated by a dog some 20 years ago.
Just another day.
I got back from my SEN/SUN-sational trip to Cali yesterday circa 2 am. I hadn't worked in DAYS. I'm not a lazy person-I have two jobs and though I complain, I do it with flair. But I needed a BREAK. So, in order for me to hit up the left coast to visit my best friend, Ca$h Bird, and westside crew, I had to borrow 28 hours of vacation time. Also known as, I borrowed 4 days of vacation that I didn't have plus took off another day off with the few hours of vaca time that I actually did have. So, I get back yesterday. I could technically have worked considering I got back in the way early am. But instead, I decided to call out. The thought of going back THERE causes me high level of anxieties and I am not into it. I honestly always thought I ENJOYED working but during vacation, I came to the conclusion that I cannot picture myself working...at all...
Ugh.
In my defense however, I was quite tired from the hellish plane ride, change of time and having a solo dance party to Pitbull's ever catchy (and terrible) "Hotel Room Service" when I got home instead of going to bed.
Anyway, day off=success. Really a good time. I'm telling you, not working is definitely the way to go. My amigo Charlie and I rendezvoused without purpose all over NYC per usual, took in the super amazing "Inglorious Basterds" and went to hip hop you don't stop (dance class=0bsessed) and then walked home from dance because really, what's another 4 miles?! Ridiculous. After the walk we decided to hit up the local grocery shop where I purchased my weekly goods circa 12 am. Nuts.
Didn't really sleep too soundly. Working out late equals drinking liquids late which equals me peeing nonstop. At one point I got up and spied a huge-ass centipede gracing my walls. I killed that mother fucker so quick it is seriously unbelievable. Last year it would have taken me literally hours to kill it. I'd spray and freak out and then spray and then freak out and then spray and then feel sick inside, etc. This year, not so much. My killing skills have improved drastically. So good! I got up in the middle of the night and with one fatal SHWOOOP of my winter boots=DEAD. Score! So proud.
After the killing, I checked on my the status of my dying Ipod. Water damage, so lame. Especially considering I had just bought the most adorable Ipod case ever and they stopped selling the Nano 3rd Generation, totally lame. I bought the 4th Generation yesterday because I know that without my music I will seriously put a stye in someone's eye. Still, I had hope for my old guy...Plus, I really wanted to return the new one so as to save some dough. Eh, c'est la vie. Whoa, off subject shocker....
I pep talked myself all the way to work. My could-care-less attitude that stems from just being on vacation and also, really not caring, helped me bear the heat semi-well. My super religious (think: cult!) co-worker and I get to chatting. I tell her how I just got into grad school for counseling but I'm not sure what it is I exactly want to do anymore.
The conversation goes down as followed:
Me: I got into Fordham for counseling but I'm not really sure what I want to do anymore. I sort of want to interior decorate, have my own variety show, teach and event plan. Maybe I should just waitress full time? Ah, I don't know...
SRC: Have you ever wondered why you have so many questions?
Me: Well, I'm very indecisive.
SRC: But will you ever be satisfied, happy?!
Me: I am happy! I am always happy. I just have a lot of random interests. I'm a Gemini afterall.
SRC: You're obviously missing something or else you wouldn't have so many questions. I used to be like you until I found the way.
Me: I'm good, seriously.
SRC: Do you ever think about why we are here on Earth?
Me: Uuugh...
SRC: I'll have to bring you one Saturday (*referencing her church in NEW JERSEY), but only when you're ready. It may not be time for you yet, but don't worry, it'll always be there. One day, one day.
Me: I'm not so sure about that.
SRC: What do you have to lose?
Me: I'm very happy and content with my life. I'm not interested!!!!!
*CHANGE THE SUBJECT*
That whole scene actually went on for a bit longer but I can't remember EVERYTHING. A few moments later I talked about how I love doing crafts with the students especially around the holidays and she said that she is not into the holidays, that's all up to me. Of course she isn't. Also, a few weeks ago, I asked her on a Monday how her weekend was. She lit up, talked about her Saturday aka religious gathering all day and then how she preached on the streets Sunday..."So many people are living lies," she said. "Oh, um, not you though. I don't mean you."
Later on today...I'm at work and one of the school safety shows my co-worker and I an image on her phone of a dog dogging (if you catch my drift...sick) a woman, totally disturbing and I'm so not into this. I'm thinking that it's one of those digital doings but she goes off talking about how women (especially white women in Manhattan) are into crazy shit involving dogs. "Don't you see how all those women have big dogs, no men?!" And then she proceeds to tell me that a woman in Manhattan had been impregnated by a dog some 20 years ago.
Just another day.
Random Cat
August 13, 2009!
I got home from work today and am greeted by Slash who is waiting for me at the door of my apartment. I pet the little fellow and open the door. A RANDOM cat walks out of the bathroom. I roll my eyes. Figures. I look at Slash. His expression was very-are you dead serious meets this is not surprising at all, much like how I felt. I look at Random Cat and go: "Hey man. Can you please go back out through the window?" And he does.
Since then, I have started to SHUT MY WINDOW.
Why was I leaving my window open before? The doorknob to my front door fell off so I had been climbing in and out of my window every day. True story. Also conveniently serves as a Slash door.
I got home from work today and am greeted by Slash who is waiting for me at the door of my apartment. I pet the little fellow and open the door. A RANDOM cat walks out of the bathroom. I roll my eyes. Figures. I look at Slash. His expression was very-are you dead serious meets this is not surprising at all, much like how I felt. I look at Random Cat and go: "Hey man. Can you please go back out through the window?" And he does.
Since then, I have started to SHUT MY WINDOW.
Why was I leaving my window open before? The doorknob to my front door fell off so I had been climbing in and out of my window every day. True story. Also conveniently serves as a Slash door.
Baby Bear
August 6, 2009!
I hardly slept last night. Too much excitement from the circus I suppose (sarcasm...maybe?). Anyway, I wake up after like 2.3 hours of sleep, a legit hot mess, so very out of it. Somehow I make it to the train. Mind you, I have to walk a mile to get there. I keep thinking that this is the longest train ride ever...is this the same train ride?! Is this JUST one day? What day is it?! Sometimes I seriously feel as though someone has drugged me and left my in strange places (aka every day I go to my ridiculous place of employment). Anyhoo, the train stops at Myrtle-Avenue and I get my hustle on, dodging the mother fuckers that simultaneously serve as slugs. In my head I am congratulating myself for being able to function at all. My confidence get the better of me and I am Rocky-style running on a semi-large flight of stairs. Of course I fall UP the stairs. Usually my running up large flights when tired coordination is pretty par, but whatevs, not gonna sweat it. Keep going. I figure that if I keep trucking and don't look behind me it's as if it never happened. Get to work. Sit in a chair, stand up. The chair is wet. What the fuck?! Then I realize that my dress is wet. I am so out of it that I ask my co-worker: "Hey, I'd know it if I peed myself, right?" I mean, I WOULD know and I obviously did NOT pee myself, but then again, what is this??!! And also, how is it that my bag/everything is ALWAYS wet?! Day is typical; semi-boring/semi-terrible. Get home, so excited to have survived. I'm determined to straight chill tonight. I hear this sound coming from my trashcan. Are you kidding?! I have a mouse?! I look at Slash (my cat) and tell him he's fired. Totally unacceptable. I get a random dude off the street to come and take the trash out. I am in no position to do this myself, pretty delirious as is. He kindly obliges, yet there is no mouse in the garbage. The strange sound continues from where the trashcan once was. I am losing it. I ask the gentle soul to please take a look back there and he does. He emerges with something in his hand. I squint, unable to bring myself to fully look head-on. Gleefully, he goes: "It's just a baby bird!" But with his Polish accent I kept thinking he said "baby bear". Thoughts going through my mind: A. Do Polish people refer to mice as baby bears? B. Is there some sort of miniature species of bears that has somehow made it into my home? So, to sum it up, no mice, no bear, live bird, straight chillen out in the corner of my kitchen. Seriously?!
I hardly slept last night. Too much excitement from the circus I suppose (sarcasm...maybe?). Anyway, I wake up after like 2.3 hours of sleep, a legit hot mess, so very out of it. Somehow I make it to the train. Mind you, I have to walk a mile to get there. I keep thinking that this is the longest train ride ever...is this the same train ride?! Is this JUST one day? What day is it?! Sometimes I seriously feel as though someone has drugged me and left my in strange places (aka every day I go to my ridiculous place of employment). Anyhoo, the train stops at Myrtle-Avenue and I get my hustle on, dodging the mother fuckers that simultaneously serve as slugs. In my head I am congratulating myself for being able to function at all. My confidence get the better of me and I am Rocky-style running on a semi-large flight of stairs. Of course I fall UP the stairs. Usually my running up large flights when tired coordination is pretty par, but whatevs, not gonna sweat it. Keep going. I figure that if I keep trucking and don't look behind me it's as if it never happened. Get to work. Sit in a chair, stand up. The chair is wet. What the fuck?! Then I realize that my dress is wet. I am so out of it that I ask my co-worker: "Hey, I'd know it if I peed myself, right?" I mean, I WOULD know and I obviously did NOT pee myself, but then again, what is this??!! And also, how is it that my bag/everything is ALWAYS wet?! Day is typical; semi-boring/semi-terrible. Get home, so excited to have survived. I'm determined to straight chill tonight. I hear this sound coming from my trashcan. Are you kidding?! I have a mouse?! I look at Slash (my cat) and tell him he's fired. Totally unacceptable. I get a random dude off the street to come and take the trash out. I am in no position to do this myself, pretty delirious as is. He kindly obliges, yet there is no mouse in the garbage. The strange sound continues from where the trashcan once was. I am losing it. I ask the gentle soul to please take a look back there and he does. He emerges with something in his hand. I squint, unable to bring myself to fully look head-on. Gleefully, he goes: "It's just a baby bird!" But with his Polish accent I kept thinking he said "baby bear". Thoughts going through my mind: A. Do Polish people refer to mice as baby bears? B. Is there some sort of miniature species of bears that has somehow made it into my home? So, to sum it up, no mice, no bear, live bird, straight chillen out in the corner of my kitchen. Seriously?!
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