How did you get here?
I really miss having google analytics. That’s the problem with switching to wordpress. Unless there’s someone out there that knows to make google analytics apply to wordpress. I would love you if you could tell me that.
I miss being able to see how people got to my blog, whether it was through someone else’s blog or from a search engine or just because they knew I blogged (although that is like, seriously 4 people). I also miss being able to look at that map and see where people are reading my blog. That was awesome. And slightly creepy.
Anyway.
Lots of people find this blog by googling the term hipsters. And why? Why are you looking up hipsters? You shouldn’t do that. Just walk outside and you will see them, lurking about with their Buddy Holly glasses and sweater vests and meta ways. I’m serious. Just go outside.
But here are some other terms that get people here…
- “Guy sent flowers and grey goose” – Who is this man? Does he want to date me? Because any guy that would send me vodka is kind of like my dream man. You should not let this guy go. He knows what is important in life and totes wants to get into your pants. Save him. Otherwise, I will take him off your hands for you.
- “”With some guy”" – In quotation marks? Are you confused? Who is with some guy?
- “Find me a winner” – Well, it’s not me. You are so in the wrong place. Also, there aren’t many winners out there. Unless you count people that say that they are winners but aren’t actually winners in any sense. Maybe in the special Olympic sense where everyone is a winner.
- “Pug dogs riding in corvette” – WHAAAAAAAT? Who are you?
- “Ungirlfriend girlfriend” – Do not be this girl. It is no fun at all. Unless you want to be the ungirlfriend. In that case, you go and have some fun.
- “I realized i’m part of the problem. not because i remind you. but because i couldn’t join you. so i left you alone. don’t give up, okay?” – What. The. Hell. Why are you typing full thoughts into a search engine? What did you exactly expect to find once you entered this in there. Is this a quote from someone? Why did it lead you here? I don’t think I’ve ever used those words in that order in this blog. I want you to not come back here. Although now that I’ve posted that, you will and I don’t like you.
There should be a test to use the internet. That person that entered the last search term would fail that test.
Parades on 3 day weekends
First of all, totally unrelated to this post – I have an insane amount of work to do this week and an insane amount of things to do outside of work this week. Good thing it’s a short week. That’s very exciting.
Monday was the Memorial Day parade in my hometown. Imagine that! A parade! For Memorial Day! ON MEMORIAL DAY.
Whoa, just settle down now.
Anyway, aside from the veterans and the school marching band and some other weird things, all the kids on all the baseball and softball and swimming and gymnastic teams walk in the parade. Which is cute, but it’s also like every kid in town marching in the parade. The kids marching in the parade isn’t where my problem lies. My problem is with the parents that march in the parade with the kids. I would understand if your kid is 5 years old. Or if you’re the coach.
When your child is 8 years old and can’t figure out how to walk in a friggin’ parade – you should let someone take them. J is autistic and he could figure that out. If your kid wanders away from the parade route and gets stolen by a creepy man in a van – well, they should learn to listen, shouldn’t they? I’m not saying that it’s okay to steal a child, but if they can’t stay in the areas where everyone else is…there is no helping them. How does a child (not me) learn to not touch something hot? They touch something hot. So if you get stolen, wee little kid, you better learn the next time to stay where you’re told.
The instructions on a parade are “follow the person in front of you down the street.” Is that hard or complicated? No, it’s really not. FAIL CHILD.
I was really bothered by the 500 kids and 1,000 parents in the parade. It’s a good thing I only go to one parade a year otherwise I might go crazy. I’m not really even sure why I make myself go to the parade, other than my parents make a float every year for Special Olympics. And every year, the Special Olympics float is the nicest, compared to the half assed other floats in the parade. Of course, my dad was making the float late on Sunday night and early Monday morning. Floats should probably be made ahead of time. And by ahead of time, I mean before the day that you need them.
Anyway.
And this is just one of the many reasons I shouldn’t have kids – I want them to be people and they’re not. I’ve been realizing that over the weekend. I couldn’t handle a child. They need things. They want things. A baby cries when it’s hungry or needs to be changed or needs to be burped or it can’t fall asleep or you know, a million other reasons. I know I would shake the baby and go “WHAT DO YOU WANTTTTTTT?!” and we know that you shouldn’t shake babies. They aren’t cans of soda. You also shouldn’t shout at them, I don’t think. That’s another story for another day.
I want to treat children like little adults. I want them to be able to tell me what they need so that they can have it. But you know – children. Not adults. I also suggested that I should have a kid, give it to Pam to raise and then take it back. I’m not saying I want to have a kid now or maybe not even ever. But if I did? Oh you better believe Pam is going to raise it.
Sorry Pam, I should have told you sooner.
But basically, children really bother me with their unreasonable demands on your time and attention.
Which is what makes a child a child.
I don’t care. Don’t argue logic with me.
What we got here…is a failure to communicate
And by communicate, I mean for my brain to pull things from my memory that I did wrong and then apply them to my life in the present. Apparently, I can’t do this.
Remember that kid that kept on touching the hot stove because maybe it wasn’t hot this time? Or maybe kept forgetting that it would be hot? That was me. I was the hot stove toucher. FAIL.
The best part about what I’m going to tell you is the fact that I didn’t do each thing once, but twice. The first time I did it I clearly didn’t learn from the situation and then when it happened again, I screwed up again. These aren’t life changing screw-ups, but they make me feel dumb. And laugh. But still feel dumb.
The first story goes a little something like this….
When I was in college, I was the music director for the radio station on campus. I LOVED IT. I had so much fun, talked to some really great promoters and thought that my life in radio was secure. WRONG. But anyway…I worked with this girl, Irene, that was a sophmore at the time. She was in charge of the library and did a lot of work with me because I was all important and powerful and awesome like that. I would say things about bands or stickers or going to lunch or something and Irene would say “what?” or “can you say that again?” pretty often. Like, at least once a conversation.
One day, I was having a bad day (I know! Me? Having a bad day? I deal so well with stress and things) and Irene said “can you repeat that?” and I more or less shouted “WHAT THE HELL? CAN’T YOU HEAR?!”
Oops
Irene then pointed to her ear and said “actually, I had a tumor in my ear when I was younger and I can’t hear out of this ear. Which is why I keep on asking you to repeat things.”
I felt like an ass. Mostly because I was. We laughed it off, but I felt guilty after that. It wasn’t a smooth move.
Fast forward to a few years later when I’m visiting Pam up at her school and we’re out with some of her roommates. I’m telling this story to her roommates and at the end, one of them says “wait, what was Irene’s issue?” and I shouted “CAN’T YOU HEAR EITHER?”
And she couldn’t. I felt dumb. Dumber than the first time. I mean, really. I went through a situation where I asked that question and I got an answer that would make sense. When I’m in the same situation…I ask the same question and again…same answer. A person that could maybe think would not have perhaps shouted it at the half deaf person, but I’m a classy sort of girl, so shouting is the way to go.
Then there was another time when I was talking to Him. Yes. Him. Not any time recently, but back when we were dating. We were having a conversation about how He more or less hated society (which was probably every conversation we ever had) but it started when I said that I was upset because J was still at the high school and he was having a breakdown and it was in the hallway between classes and everyone could see it. I care for J on a very maternal level and to hear about that made me so incredibly sad and He basically told me that there was nothing I could do and to move on. At that moment, there wasn’t a damn thing that I could do, but it didn’t stop me from feeling like I wanted to change things.
The conversation went to Him hating society and how He doesn’t have emotions and so on and I basically told Him that if He hated everything, He should just end it. What was holding Him to this world if He didn’t care what anyone said or thought about Him and He didn’t love anyone. (Sidenote: Reading this conversation that I had with Him really makes me wonder why I put up with Him. He more or less told me that He would never really love or care about anyone, not even me. He said that He didn’t want to have kids, didn’t want to get married and didn’t have any emotions so to speak. He told me that He didn’t know how to feel, but He used to. I accepted all these things about Him and didn’t question them. I guess I had some serious issues at that point.) The conversation got a little awkward at that point because I told the guy I was dating to just go and kill himself and I felt terrible afterwards, considering what I’ve been through and how I would have felt if someone said those words to me. Now that I think about it, it seems pretty horrible that I told Him to do that. It wasn’t supposed to come off that way. It wasn’t like “hey, here’s a razor, have at it” but more a question of why He would continue to exist if He hated everything so much and didn’t want to be around anyone?
Which brings us to this week where I had more or less the same conversation with someone and I said “So why even play the game if you don’t want to be here?” and then I felt terrible again. It took an hour or two for me to remember the conversation with Him and how I panicked and worried and didn’t hear from Him when I normally did and I was pretty convinced He was dead. But I did it again. I don’t even think before I say hurtful things sometimes, I just blurt them out, realize it was a bad idea and then spend a lot of time backpedaling.
I don’t know why I can’t learn from my mistakes. I don’t know why I can’t recall these moments when I offended or hurt someone or just flat out told them to kill themselves. You would think that I would remember these sort of things. I don’t. I really hope I don’t go through these things. I really hope I don’t insult deaf people or tell others to just drop out of the human race, but considering I’m not yet 25 and I did all these things within a 4 year span, I would say that more times for me to make an ass of myself are coming.
ARGH.
Dear IT man that works for my company,
You must have gone to the School of Hard Knocks because no degree granting institution that I can think of would give you a degree in…whatever it is that you do. You say “axe” instead of “ask” which isn’t anything to say about your intelligence…but it does make me crazy.
When I look tired in the morning (which is brought on by you, walking in the door) you ask if I had a “late night partying and being crazy”. Listen IT man, we’re not friends. I don’t like you. Those questions, aside from being INAPPROPRIATE because you’re old enough to be my dad (ew) are things you just don’t need to know. And just for everyone’s information, I’m not out partying. I’m not out doing anything, unless going to the gym and being a sad sad person counts as something.
In most societies, doing your job badly for everyone to see would be a reason to get fired. But not where you are! You sit here at my computer, working on Outlook and you say things like “what does this mean?” and “I don’t know what to do about this”. If you don’t know…you’re an idiot. THIS IS YOUR JOB. THIS IS WHAT YOU GET PAID TO DO. They could pay me to sit at my computer and say things like that (oh wait, they already do. Nevermind). If you don’t know what’s going on, you fake it. You don’t tell everyone within earshot that you are a moron. We know. WE REALLY KNOW. You then call someone else at your company and get them to help you. Why doesn’t this person come out here and fix our stuff? Do you know how much more productive I could be if you weren’t on my computer every 5 minutes, FIXING NOTHING? You sit there and get pretzel crumbs on my desk and leave my mouse all warm (ewwwwwwwwwwwww) and I just can’t take it.
When you walk in, my blood pressure starts to rise. Your presence ANNOYS me. Just your existence is bothersome. I would really like it if you never came back. Since you don’t actually work in our office, but you’re contracted out, you don’t even have stuff here. So just leave and don’t return and we will all be happier for it. For reals.
XO
S
Hipsters
For some reason today, I’m thinking hipsters. You know exactly who I’m talking about.
Guys that are just too cool for themselves with their skinny jeans and black rimmed glasses and converse sneakers. Boys with hair that’s been made to look like they just woke up. They wear black and grey striped scarves and peacoats. Play on ibooks in Starbucks. Only like bands “before they got big”. Those boys. Those boys that I have a very strange attraction to, but I KNOW deep down those are not the sort of boys that I want to date. Boys that are prettier than me. I don’t want a pretty boy. That’s just…no.
And don’t even get me started on hipster girls. I can’t even take it.
Why is being a hipster so bad in my universe? I’m not even sure, honestly. I just have this image of hipsters being too cool for just about everything and everyone. I imagine hipsters and their fake sense of casual-ness and pretending to care about causes that aren’t so well known. Going to shows to see bands and then tearing the band apart. More or less being pretenious douchebags. Constantly wanting to “stick it to the man” in one way or another. Going green because everyone else is, not because they care what happens when they go green. Organic everything. Hipsters.
I don’t think I would classify myself as hipster. Let’s face it – I eat burgers, I drink beer that ISN’T a micro-brew, and I’m not skinny. Already I’m breaking the Hipster Code of Conduct.
But I wonder as I sit here in my Mountain Hardwear hoodie if that makes me a hipster. I own a product that’s made for someone doing outdoorsy things….and I’m wearing it in the office as I sit at my desk. That’s not to say that I won’t wear it outside at some point…but I didn’t buy it because it would be a functional item in my closet. I bought it because I liked it…and it has a hood…and it has thumb holes and really, what sort of hoodie doesn’t need thumb holes? I just hope I’m not a hipster.
I own a pair of black pumas and I LUB them. But they aren’t suede, they are leather. That’s breaking the hipster rules. I might have black rimmed glasses, but they are pink on the inside. I wear pink! That’s breaking a hipster rule. I went to a liberal arts college, got a degree in communications and then went on to work at Barnes and Noble. All sort of hipster-ish, right? Then I started “working for the man” and hating my job…also hipster-ish. And THEN I got a job at a company I like with co-workers I like and it’s a job that I (mostly) don’t bitch about. I think that makes me more of a not-hipster.
Did I really just post about this? Yes, I did. Lilo and Karen both aren’t at work and I have nothing else to do. The idiot IT man keeps on kicking me off my computer…but not getting anything accomplished. Awesome. Today is shaping up to be just such a lovely day.
And just because it’s amusing…you should watch this
In the words of a dear friend…
…”I hate all of these people.”
The IT guy is here. We contract out an IT guy because there are so few of us and it just doesn’t make sense for us to have one. I DISLIKE HIM. SO MUCH. He was on my computer for 20 minutes earlier this morning, crunching loudly on pretzels and NOT FIXING MY COMPUTER. He was just…I don’t even know what he was doing. Aside from making me mad. I’ve never been so irrationally angry at someone for their existance. There’s something about him that just bothers me to no end. He comes just about everyday and everytime he walks in the door, I get a little mad on the inside.
Then the phone rang which caused me to write the following note…
DEAR EVERYONE,
There is this thing. It’s called THE INTERNET. When you are looking for INFORMATION, you go to the INTERNET and you go to GOOGLE. Then in the little window, you type in “SHIT I NEED TO KNOW” and google will give you this shit. I AM NOT GOOGLE. I DO NOT KNOW IF THERE IS A MEDIA COMPANY IN KNOXVILLE TENNESSE. I AM NOT THE INTERNETS.
Not fondly,
S
Additionally, I’ve decided I’m going to start posting the things that the president of my company does. Why? Because sometimes I don’t even believe him. This morning, I was putting milk in my coffee and he just shouts at me “WHAT’S UP?!?!” and I get so startled, I almost dump all the milk out. Mr. Bork Bork Bork was looking for something and crouching on the floor and Big Scott the President (as he is called) shoves him over. Sometimes It’s hard to believe that he actually exists. But he does. And he’s insane. And I work here.
And in totally unrelated news – my lovely love Karen passed her big CPA exam and I am SO EXCITED for her. Congrats darling. Love you muchly.
Mature adult relationship – total win
I touched base on this a little before. I’m still kind of in shock about it which is why I’m posting again. Through this entire possible fall-out of my relationship with A, I didn’t get angry at him once. I didn’t yell or shout or insult him or lash out verbally. I was calm and patient and above all, nice. I can’t even begin to explain how important that is for me.
To be honest, sometimes I’m a total spaz. Sometimes my emotions get the best of me and I get so twisted around that I can’t think straight. I’ll say whatever comes to my head without any thought to how hurtful it might be. In fact, I might even be trying to find hurtful things to say. Basically, if someone is hurting me in some way, I try to hurt them back. I know that’s not right and it’s a very childish thing to do. But it’s what I do. Secretly I’m 5 years old or something.
Point being, this is the first relationship that I’ve been in that I feel like we’re both being mostly adults. There were no insults flung at each other while we discussed what A brought up. I didn’t cry until he told me that thing about my mom. I didn’t stomp out of the burger place when he told me he wanted to end things. I’m proud of myself. This is a very big step. Maybe I’m growing up in some way?
Maybe because there’s an age difference between A and I, I feel like I have to act a certian way around him. Not in our everyday lives. Then I’m just my normal cynical, nasty, snarky, sarcastic, charming self. I laugh at the most inappropriate things and he does too. I don’t feel like I have to be an adult when we’re alone or with my friends or with my parents. But when stuff starts to get serious, another side of me kicks in. I become much more cool-headed, much more logical. I don’t know if it was because in that moment SOMEONE had to be the sane one and I just stepped up or what exactly happened. But I hope in the future when something like this happens again, I’m able to keep control of myself.
