Monday, October 31, 2005

Let me preface this by saying: this is going to be a long post.

Well, I don't want to say it, but I'll just go out there on a limb and say it.


I hate living with my sister.

She has treated me like shit most of her life, and prior to my 20th birthday, I deserved not all, but some of it. No matter how much I've changed, no matter what kind thing I do for her, even OPENING UP MY OWN HOME TO HELP HER OUT IN HER TIME OF NEED, I will always be the horrible, opressive sister who is keeping her from having a good time.

Her definition of having a good time? Taking over our house. It's a 3 bedroom house. She is currently occupying 2 bedrooms with all of her assorted shit. And then she has the GALL to complain to me that she's not getting her fair THIRD of the apartment.

Uh, excuse me? When did this become something other than a YOU-ARE-A-GUEST-IN-MY-FUCKING-HOME situation???

This is all very typical sister behavior. She was indulged too much as a child and now, as a result, thinks that she is owed everything and anything, and that the world loves to pick on her. Her favorite activity is whining, with a close second of being incredibly defensive. Every time I try to approach her with a concern, she dissolves into histrionics- yelling, screaming, stomping off in a huff.

Normally I wouldn't deal with a person like this, because actions like that are bullshit. Her entire agenda is YOU WILL DO IT MY WAY OR I WILL FREAK OUT!!!!! There is no such thing as compromise in her brain. To her, compromising is akin to losing. She knows if she can just freak out long enough, she'll get her way. And normally, I would tell a person like this to fuck off, fuck you very much.

But blood is thicker than water, and I can't just shed my sister and get a new one. I wish that I could, and that's not something I've told very many people.


Anyhow, I could go on and on about the things that my sister has done to me that piss me off, but I'll stop with this one:

She seems to think that she can treat my husband like she treats me- with disrespect and with attitude.

That is where I lay down the law. My husband is NOT just another member of my old family. He is MY FAMILY. He is my HUSBAND. And I will be damned before I stand by and see her treat him like he's nothing.

So I told her if she did it again I'd kick her out. Her response to that? "I have a right to be snippy to anyone when I'm having a bad day!!!" Excuse me? You have a right to berate other people because YOU'RE feeling shitty? I don't think so.

So there it is. It's been two weeks, and she's already used up two strikes. I don't know if there's going to be a third. We'll see. Hopefully I don't have to post one day something along the lines of "kicked my sister out".

Happy Halloween

Over the last few days, I've been accosted by co-workers and schoolmates who want to know what I'm going to be for Halloween.

I respond: What am I going to be for Halloween, you ask? An adult. What, pray, are you going as?

Hell. There's no harm in going out and having a fun time, but holy SHIT, don't look at me like I up and killed the Tooth Fairy or some other monstrous thing just because I'm not dressing up for Halloween.


Oh, by the way- Santa doesn't exist.

I've got a theory! It could be bunnies!

Theory: If I play a song with heavy bass loud enough, the deer will hear my thumpity-thumpness and stay away. My current thump of choice? Bush: Speed Kills

I don't know if that's full of shit or what, but in all my years of driving through deer-infested Pennsylvania (they're seriously like rats out there) and now Utah (which is even worse because they're MULE DEER, which happen to be at least twice the size of our little cute eastern white-tail variety).... in all my years of that, I've never had a deer jump out in front of me.

I fear that now I've put that out in the open, I'm going to bullseye a Bambi on the way home. Damn deer.

Sunday, October 30, 2005

I admit: I'm an internet addict

Thank HEAVENS, we've finally gotten the computer moved over to our new place. This means a number of things, mostly being that:
a) I can finally post with regularity again (that sounded strangely as if I were describing the state of my bowels... hm. Anyways....);
b) Now that my computer is away from BYU, I can be a little less anonymous because the bitches can't track me down nearly as easily as they once could! I probably will stay pretty anonymous anyways, just cos I still have to graduate and whatnot;
c) We can look at porn if we want now

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Sorry!

Sorry for the lack of posts, we're still moving (yeah, that's what happens when you both work full time and go to school full time, moving takes like two weeks).

Anyhow, here's a little tidbit- I showed up for school over AN HOUR EARLY today and couldn't find a parking spot. Fucking BYU.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Frustrated

For some strange reason, I find it HUGELY aggravating that we're giving my sister a GIANT break on rent to live with us (ostensibly so she can save money) and we come home to find her strutting around in an UGLY ASS wool.... something.... it looks like the top of a women's business suit, but extremely thick, like something business women in Siberia would wear, if Siberia had business women. And in teal, because no one in Siberia cares about fashion, they just want to stay warm.

She declares "I got it for $50, it was on sale from $170!!!"

This simply means that no one was stupid enough to buy it for $170, and only she was stupid enough to buy it at $50.


As a side-note, this comes from the same sister who told me that I shouldn't ask dad for a Christmas present this year because he is slightly financially strapped, but she is going to ask him to buy a queen-sized bed for her single self as a Just-Because Present.

HELL, I can't ask for a $300 something for Christmas, but she can ask for a $1000 something because she wants it? She consistently fails to mention that we have a spare twin mattress that is heavenly, mostly because it would only cost $80 to get a boxspring and a frame for that.


Aargh.

Friday, October 21, 2005

What if?

Tonight was a scary night at DreamJob. Needless to say, I don't say much about my job or where I work. That all has a purpose, namely the purpose of I Don't Want To Get Fired For My Blog. DreamJob is a fairly sensitive place, one where the axe would fall if I publicly acknowledged where I work, blah blah blah.

Anyhow, one of the down-sides to DreamJob is that, rarely, someone psycho will show up. Not psycho as in I'm Being Over-dramatic And Call Everyone Psycho... no, psycho as in these people really ought to be locked up and never let out again.

I hate it when these people show up. They show up out of nowhere, and I ALWAYS know that they're psycho before they even open their mouths. See, it's in the eyes. I look in their eyes and I can actually see that something there is not right, and it's very disturbing.

Tonight we had a couple of these, and one actually had to be physically escorted off the premesis. Thankfully, I've always had others near when these people show up. But I started thinking tonight- what if no one else is around? What if I'm there all by myself and things get nasty?

I'm fairly strong, and I don't get scared or intimidated very easily. But tonight... tonight just felt wrong. Tonight left me unsettled.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Neighbors?

New neighbors come hand-in-hand with moving. While I was positive that our new ones would be an improvement on the old thumpy-on-the-ceiling ones, now I'm not so sure.

So here's the story:

Husband came home from work early, and seeing as I was also home, and my sister was not, we decided it was sex time. So we're having this fantastic middle-of-the-weekday sex, which we have very rarely seeing as we both work and school.

Suddenly, there's a pounding at our front door. We ignore it, of course, and keep on at it. But the pounding doesn't stop. Nor does the doorbell-ringing. Finally, after about 5 minutes of this bullshit, we cut our sex short and I go answer the door (thinking that maybe my sister had locked herself out).

No one is at our doorstep. I lean out a bit and, at our neighbor's door, there is some woman I hadn't met talking to some korean kid. She looks over at me and nonchalantly says, "Oh, that was me." And then continues talking to the korean kid. I look at her like, "WTF???" and go back inside and close the door. I make it back upstairs and am in the middle of telling Husband about the weirdo when, lo and behold, the bitch starts knocking AGAIN.

IF YOU WANTED TO FUCKING TALK TO ME, MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE TALKED TO ME WHEN I OPENED THE DOOR!!!

So I tell Husband he can go downstairs and talk to the weirdo, because I'm done. He answers the door, and she says, "Did I wake you guys up?"


It turns out that she's our neighbor. And the point of all her knocking? She wanted to talk about getting WIRELESS INTERNET together. Holy shit, bitch. Two pointers for you:

1) You're not *that* fucking important.
2) When someone doesn't answer after the first knock, maybe you should stop knocking.


Sorry for all the cursing, but I'm really pissed off- she totally interrupted fabulous sex!

New Things!

YAY!! YAY for NEW THINGS!!!

We don't have very many new things, but here are our latest:

-KING-SIZED SUPER COMFORTABLE BED COMPLETE WITH REALLY FANCY BEDDING (YAY 1000 THREAD-COUNT SHEETS!!)

-SUPER FANCY WASHER/DRYER SET


Sorry for my love affair with capital letters, but really. I love our new stuff. I feel like we're finally becoming established- we live in a house with all our own furniture. Funny, I know, to be excited about something like that... but we will never again have to go to a laundromat. Never have to rent furniture. I love it.

But on the other hand....

Obviously, we're still moving. Our schedules don't really allow for much concentrated moving time, so it's all one-load-here, another-load-there. Which sucks. I would really rather just get it all over with and organized, but oh well. I'm also feeling quite guilty because my back has been hurting me, so I haven't been as helpful as I'd like. Blah.

Boggles the mind.

There's nothing like seeing a van full of hispanics on oxygen where most of them are smoking.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Someting funny

Since I've been rather melodramatic as of late, I thought I'd give y'all something funny:

Husband and I were sitting at a fast food place the other day when we saw a flock of four ducks crossing the parking lot. Being herded by a rooster.

That was one of the last things I ever thought I'd see in the middle of PROVO.

*sigh*

One of the things that struck me when I was interviewing for DreamJob was when my (then future) boss mentioned that she'd been working there for five years and never once had dreaded going to work. I'd just come from a string of really lousy jobs, and that sentiment appealed to me.

Just imagine: not ever dreading going to work.

And for the first six weeks, I reveled in it. I *loved* going to work. I was so happy- finally I'd found a place I wanted to be. A place where I was happy to go.

Then I learned just enough about the system to recognize my Dishonest Coworker for what he really was- Dishonest. My opinion of him was set in concrete after he tried to steal $300 from me (in commissions).

Here's the rub- My boss has made it clear that she wants to know any time a coworker doesn't do their job (apparently in the past there was a guy who was doing all sorts of shady things and no one told the boss because they all assumed she knew). And I tell her when people aren't doing their job. But my complaints primarily involve Dishonest Coworker because he is, for the most part, the only one not doing his job.

But since Dishonest Coworker isn't popular with the rest of the staff, the boss gets lots of complaints about him. She doesn't see it when she works with him (because of COURSE he'll do his job when the boss is standing right there)... so anyone whose complaints routinely center around Dishonest Coworker.... she labels that person as a Sensitive Complainer.

Apparently, I am a Sensitive Complainer.

In my last talk with my boss (the one where I got the bullshit write-up for Dishonest Coworker's actions), she again reiterated that she wants me to come to her with any problems I find involving other coworkers.

How am I supposed to do that when she brushes off everything I say? Argh.


Anyways. I have a shift at work tonight. I haven't had to work since Saturday. And here I am, desperately not wanting to go to work. So much for the dream, eh?

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Moving Time!

Well, that's it. It's a done deal, our house. This weekend is officially moving time, and I am mostly excited with a smattering of not-wanting-to-pack-all-our-shit-up-husband-can't-we-just-throw-it-all-away-and-buy-new-shit-AFTER-we-move-in?

Naw, as lazy as I am, I do like moving. It's actually my laziness that motivates me. For those who have lived with me before, I have an inner pack rat. It's not a very big pack rat per se, but it's a pack rat nonetheless. And moving motivates me to de-pack rat.


Excuse me for a moment while I, once again, freak out about the awesomeness of our new digs.


Guys, there is so much room in our house that we're going to be able to have an office, a music room, a room for our sports shit, AND a game room. All while having a big ol' room for my little sister, who is moving in with us so she can have cheaper rent, thus making it possible for her to go to school more and go to work less.

And the yard- ahh. It almost sucks that we're going into winter (ALMOST, but not really because it means I get to snowboard every single day if I so desire), because I want to garden and grow things and eat them.

The kitchen- MASSIVE. Room for all my cooking and baking needs. And the bonus is my sister. Because it's much easier to make big meals if you're cooking for three, and also it's much easier to make big meals if there's someone there to help. (Note: husband helps tremendously, but considering he's gone from 6am to 10pm four days out of the week, there's not much he can do.) It's also much easier to clean up if there's someone there to help.

We also now have a spare bed AND a sleeper sofa. So anyone passing through who needs a place to crash, just call!


BTW- Zannah, we need to hang out! It's been far too long!! I'm totally free Wednesday after 1pm. So call me and let me know, I need to see your new place too!

Monday, October 10, 2005

labrea

AARRGH!

I have today OFF. Off, after a week of hell, and I have no idea what to do. Unfortunately, I still go to school, and I'm sitting around, waiting for my research group to contact me as to when/where we're researching. Sadly, BYU has no idea what the HELL it is doing in respect to student parking. Basically, that translates as: Since it takes me an hour to get anywhere on campus even though I live five minutes away, I am stuck here until I hear from them.

I could go get my hair done. I could go to the gym. I could go visit any number of dear friends. I could go grocery shopping.

But NO. I can't go do any of those things because they'll transform my response time from one hour to two hours. And if my research group randomly calls and asks me to haul my ass to campus NOW, I wouldn't be able to do it.

Blah. Maybe I'll go nap.

Saturday, October 08, 2005

MOVING TIME!!

Ah, FINALLY. We've found a place.

A HOUSE. An honest-to-goodness HOUSE!!!

With an upstairs and a downstairs. With three GIANT bedrooms. A HUGE kitchen. A BACKYARD!!! A PLACE TO GARDEN!!!!!!!!! A PLACE TO HOST OUR FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STORAGE FOR ALL THE SHIT WE OWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(can you tell that I'm excited?)


And the kicker... it costs $100 more than the crap apartment we're currently staying in. That's right. We're going from 600 square feet to 1500 square feet. For $100.

Monday, October 03, 2005

NOTE TO MOTHERS OF TODDLERS

Your toddlers DO NOT belong in sit-down restaurants. Especially if you've trained your toddler to be a whiny piece of SHIT that can only be placated by playing your cellphone's ringtone again and again for the little bastard.

HELL, people. When will parents realize that fulfilling their whiny little bastard's every command and wish will only result in MORE whiny demands?


Sorry for all you Nature over Nurture people.... unless your infant is colicky, you really CAN train them to be whiny/not whiny by how you respond to them. If you're a calm parent, the chances are pretty high that your child will also be calm. If you're high-strung and freak out a lot, or are just incompetent in general, your kid will be a hellion. I've seen it dozens of times on both sides. It's interesting how ridiculously easy it is to predict how an infant will turn out as a toddler and as a child just by watching their parents.

*sneeze*

Happy October, Everyone!


Two thoughts: Yay for a 4-wheel drive, manual transmission vehicle. I love it.

Also, dammit, I am tired of being sick. At least I got someone to cover my shift yesterday. See, I like overtime, but I really don't need to work 60 hours in one week while I'm trying to go to school full time. That doesn't give this yucky cold I'm currently sporting a chance to go away... and I'd hate to be sporting yucky pneumonia instead.