It Just Happens to be One of the Worst Feelings in the World...

So it’s pay day. You have free tickets to a show your boyfriend is going to love, but because it’s pay day, you have to pay your bills first…leaving you with, what you think is, a fair budgeted amount for the remaining two weeks until pay day rolls around again. “Great,” you think to yourself. “Since we’re going to this hilarious show…I’m going to make a date out of it and take him out to dinner too.” Fabulous. Then you go to dinner…pay…only to leave broke…your budgeted amount you have to spend for the next two weeks…gone.

Yep…depressing…can’t even treat my boyfriend for an evening without having to mooch off him for the next 13 days. Awesome. How discouraging is that?!

The woes of Frustration.

$100,000 was within my grasps…and how would I win this $100,000 you ask? Well through McDonald’s Monopoly Game of course. They even gave you double chances for winning this year by not just collecting the physical game pieces, but by taking the codes on these game pieces and playing virtually online. After collecting well over 100 game pieces…we’re talking two large coffees and two hash browns every morning for the entire month of October…I won diddly squat. That’s right…not a penny. I collected every game piece with the exception of the most important ones… Boardwalk (dark blue), Mediterranean Avenue (purple), Vermont Avenue (light blue), Tennessee Avenue (orange), Kentucky Avenue (red), Ventnor Avenue (yellow), Pennsylvania Avenue (green), and Shortline Railroad…yes...I missed one from every property.

And can you believe these were the exact same pieces I couldn’t manage to land on online? What are the chances? Apparently very high for McDonald’s, and non-existent for those looking to win. So now the all important question…..how rigged is the McDonald’s Monopoly Game? I mean literally…what are the chances to receive all those pieces except for the specific few…manipulation is clearly the first word that comes to mind. Undoubtedly the only person who wins here is McDonald’s….bringing in suckers like me to buy more…making this fast food nightmare financially stronger…and pushing the chump more towards frustration and broke-dom.

And p.s…..out of those 100+ game pieces I collected…I won 2 medium fries, 2 breakfast sandwiches, a cheese burger, and a mcflurry….6 instant win game pieces out of 100…even the chances of winning food is slim-to-none. They could have at least given us that. After all…how much is this monster money maker going to miss out on by giving out a few fries here and there? Not nearly enough to even feel a bump.

the walk of shame.

there's nothing more embarrassing than the walk of shame....you meet that special someone and think going home with him or her is luscious....only to walk home the following morning alone, hair a mess, cloths in shambles, with the stench of booze covering every inch of your body. but there's one time a year that the walk of shame is worse than any other....halloween. having to put your costume on one last time with makeup smeared across your face, and passing sunday morning church goers on your way...now that's an embarrassment. hope it was worth it.

sights to be unseen

How about this for a view…while waiting patiently for my boyfriend’s squirt hockey team to get out on the ice, I turn my head to see a mother changing her 2 year old’s diaper on a bench. It was quite thoughtful of her to place a blanket under her daughter’s bum so no public germs were to infest her ‘sensitive’ areas…but not so thoughtful to place the dirty diaper directly onto the bench…not concerning herself with her daughter’s germs distributing themselves onto a public seating area, where public people sit.

Now the fact that she laid a dirty diaper on a public bench isn’t my problem, although it is down right disgusting…my problem was that she changed her daugther’s diaper in a very public place…in fact, she did so while two other mother’s and their children looked on…not including myself, or the two families sitting next to me, or the group of high school boys behind us. For the record…I wasn’t the only one who found this a bit strange, as a little boy (I’d place him at 5) with the family next to me turned to his mommy and asked, “why is that lady changing her diaper there?” And his mother responded with “well where else is she supposed to change it?” Hmmm…I found this comment out of the ordinary considering a “restrooms” sign hung right above her head….which hung 6 feet in front of the diaper changing mother’s head…which pointed to a bathroom less than 20 feet away. Where indeed do you change a diaper? Cause clearly a bathroom doesn’t seem like the perfect location.

For me…this is on the same lines of a mother breast feeding her child in public…go to the car! And in this case…go to the restroom! It’s revolting.

just gel'n man.

yesterday i had the pleasure to hear two gel'n comments. the first...a female co-worker who i complimented her heeled boots. the second...a male friend who made a stellar catch during his softball game. to make it an even three...if three can be considered even...i, myself, made a gel'n comment. mine was made while kicking my shoeless feet up and chowing on a slice of mac n cheese pizza....how could i not be gel'n?!

What should I do to marry a rich guy?

although i wish i could claim this post as my own....i can't, but posted anyway for the enjoyment of all.

A young and pretty lady posted this on a popular forum:


Title: What should I do to marry a rich guy?


I'm going to be honest of what I'm going to say here. I'm 25 this year. I'm very pretty, have style and good taste. I wish to marry a guy with $500k annual salary or above. You might say that I'm greedy, but an annual salary of $1M is considered only as middle class in New York . My requirement is not high. Is there anyone in this forum who has an income of $500k annual salary? Are you all married? I wanted to ask: what should I do to marry rich persons like you? Among those I've dated, the richest is $250k annual income, and it seems that this is my upper limit. If someone is going to move into high cost residential area on the west of New York City Garden ( ? ) , $250k annual income is not enough.

I'm here humbly to ask a few questions:

1) Where do most rich bachelors hang out? (Please list down the names and addresses of bars, restaurant, gym)

2) Which age group should I target?

3) Why most wives of the riches is only average-looking? I've met a few girls who doesn't have looks and are not interesting, but they are able to marry rich guys

4) How do you decide who can be your wife, and who can only be your girlfriend? (my target now is to get married)


Ms. Pretty


Awesome reply:

Dear Ms.. Pretty,

I have read your post with great interest. Guess there are lots of girls out there who have similar questions like yours. Please allow me to analyse your situation as a professional investor. My annual income is more than $500k, which meets your requirement, so I hope everyone believes that I'm not wasting time here. From the standpoint of a business person, it is a bad decision to marry you.. The answer is very simple, so let me explain.

Put the details aside, what you're trying to do is an exchange of 'beauty' and 'money': Person A provides beauty, and Person B pays for it, fair and square. However, there's a deadly problem here, your beauty will fade, but my money will not be gone without any good reason. The fact is, my income might increase from year to year, but you can't be prettier year after year. Hence from the viewpoint of economics, I am an appreciation asset, and you are a depreciation asset. It's not just normal depreciation, but exponential depreciation. If that is your only asset, your value will be much worried 10 years later.

By the terms we use in Wall Street, every trading has a position, dating with you is also a 'trading position'. If the trade value dropped we will sell it and it is not a good idea to keep it for long term - same goes with the marriage that you wanted. It might be cruel to say this, but in order to make a wiser decision any assets with great depreciation value will be sold or 'leased'. Anyone with over $500k annual income is not a fool; we would only date you, but will not marry you. I would advice that you forget looking for any clues to marry a rich guy. And by the way, you could make yourself to become a rich person with $500k annual income. This has better chance than finding a rich fool.

Hope this reply helps. If you are interested in 'leasing' services, do contact me...

signed,
CEO J.P.. Morgan :-)

???

i don't get it...why do people think mullets are still cool? i saw one yesterday that reached her ass...and then her top mullet had terrible yellow highlights in her very dark brown straggly mane.

yet another mystery to me.

Turn of the Tables

I was very proactive about my meals this week. Sunday I slaved over rice and broccoli stuffed chicken breasts with mashed potatoes and gravy, Monday I dedicated myself to a baked mac n cheese casserole, and Tuesday I poured my heart into a pinto bean, ham and cilantro soup. Now...the proactive part of these three banquets was that I made such large quantities that it was enough to cover my meals through the following weekend. And the soup...I planned to freeze the other half into single containers so I can grab one while running frantically out the door as a tantalizing lunch during my fun filled work day. Yes, I felt very domestic earlier this week.

Now if you can believe it...the absolute unthinkable happened. Wednesday evening...I became ill....violently ill. I spent HOURS in the bathroom, my body desperately removing those meals from within me. Hell…for a minute there I thought my body was trying to remove my stomach lining. Now I am fully aware that everyone hates being sick…especially when bodily fluids are involved…but what really makes my sickness just gut wrenchingly horrible…….it destroyed my proactive approach. I will not be able to eat any of my dinners I prepped so very hard for the last few nights…feasting not only on tasty goodness but satisfaction…but thanks to my latest situation, turning back to the normal starvation I encounter on a daily basis.

So much for a proactive attitude. So much for the wasted money I spent on the groceries for my meals…I was better off eating out. Ha…and I thought I was saving in the end. Oh how the tables turned.

baffling.

Commercials are strange, and the decisions made to air them at a particular time and channel make them even more insanely intriguing. Let’s take for example a recent commercial encounter of mine. Although I truly hate admitting this, around midnight a few evenings back, I was watching Moulin Rouge (don’t judge) on some cable network channel. While I only caught the tail end of this film, I did see at least three commercial breaks…as they do occur often enough. And can you believe the most prominent commercial shown was….natural male enhancements?!!

Let me repeat this so we’re all on the same page…Saturday…midnight…Moulin Rouge….men’s penis enlargement commercial. I guess I get the Saturday at midnight part of the equation…but Moulin Rouge is geared towards women. Seriously, what’s the likelihood a self-conscious man is watching this film, therefore making it difficult to see these commercials and purchase the product. Some kind of Sci-Fi or heroic action flick I understand, but to me this is just baffling.

Now this brings me to the next question, clearly Moulin Rouge is a chic flick…so is that commercial being aimed at women who find their man a little less than well-endowed? I mean, what woman is ballsy enough to do this? Are they calling for the 30 day free trial and slipping it in their significant other’s morning orange juice? And if they aren’t the risky manipulative type, how do they ask them to take such a pill….can you imagine the conversation, “Ummm honey, I saw this commercial and thought of you. What a great idea right?” The only outcome I envision from this situation is divorce or separation. Besides…it’s not about the size, it’s how it’s used……..at least that’s what I’ve been told.

Well now that this option has been explored, this brings us back to the original point….how many males were watching Moulin Rouge so late on Saturday night that the company found it lucrative enough to advertise. And the answer clearly must be…enough. And I’m sure these male watchers would never admit to neither Moulin Rouge OR natural male enhancements…but then again, who can blame them? I wish I could say I knew at least one though.

Just baffling.

Cindy Lauper....

yes, at the ripe age of 56, this cougar still has it...the voice, the body, the energy. amazing.

Only Human

People love to send out emails involving dumb newspaper headlines or articles. For example…

‘An Australian Army vehicle, worth $74,000, has gone mysteriously missing after being painted camouflage.’

or

‘Debra Mountain likes shopping at the Dollar Palace because it’s convenient and casual. “I don’t have to get all dressed up like I’m going to Wal-Mart or something,” she said.’

Ok…first off…really?! Secondly, as a newspaper writer, do they realize what they’re reporting is making everyone laugh because of the clear stupidity of it? Or is it just anther run of the mill for them? And at the same time…are these stories fulfilling as a reporter? I mean, personally my goal as a reporter would be the New York Times writing about political scandals and international drug busts, nothing less. Then again, I am a 27 year old art history graduate working at a museum of science and technology and at a position pretty similar to a secretary. So who am I to judge?!

But back to the main point…do the reporters realize this? And why don’t editors catch the crazy and slightly indecent headlines… such as “Student Excited Dad Got Head Job.” I mean, don’t they recognize that everyone’s mind is always in the gutter. They should really be paying attention to these kinds of things. Well, they are only human I guess.

isn't it lovely.....

i've been delving into the world of hip hop as of late. one of my biggest observations....even over dressed PTA moms and short, bald business men love these shows. a truly accepting world.

WTF?!

What is it about my ex-boyfriends wanting to do great thing after we break up. After? Seriously. Why don’t they want to do great things…with me…WHILE we’re together? I mean, I’m glad I could help create this urge of greatness. But maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have broken up with them to being with.

gone? dead wrong.

It's not bringing sexy back, it's bringing the fanny pack back! Sport one...confidence will soar.

The Double B Strikes Again

I was extremely Bored today…so I thought I would pass the time by paying my monthly bills. So I paid them…in a matter of minutes. And now I’m Broke and Bored. Truly a lose-lose situation.

ain't no thang

i made a bet against friends for my success of a personal achievement and goal...confident in the beginning. but within 9 hours, i was already betting against myself. sad.

normal.

i really do a great job of making an ass out of myself on a regular basis. sometimes, an asshole.

a vital inquiry indeed

One of the most important questions of my life…do I enter a tater tot eating contest or not? Free to enter…winner gets a $200 gift card…everyone receives free tater tots for a year just for entering. So far there are only upsides. Now the downside…the high possibility of my humiliation. I put myself in these situations often enough…and although tater tot eating sounds harmless enough, the true likelihood of putting myself in an entirely embarrassing situation is there. Oh what to do…

Just One Time

I tried smoking a cigarette once…it was during Happy Hour. I had also met new friends from New Orleans who happened to be out drinking for HH as well. When putting the cigarette out, I accidentally put it out on my new friend’s cell phone. Apparently black objects all look the same to me and I easily confuse a cell phone with an ash tray. And no, I did not exchange phone numbers with my new friend when she departed soon after my embarrassment. I'm an idiot. Lesson learned.

When Life Gives You Lemons...I Throw Them Out

For the first time in my life I actually have gossip… really, I don’t think gossip truly describes it. What I know is far beyond gossip…closer to dirt…dirt so filthy, grimy, and soiled that it’s blackmail-able. Sometimes I wish I was that person…someone who could be conniving and shrewd…to be someone that could blackmail and not only NOT feel bad about it, but be satisfied by my actions and the positive outcome, well for me at least. Alas, I do not hold any traces of that personality…but that’s actually a good thing right, agreeably for the person with the scandal. I mean…I have names…numbers…I have EVIDENCE! And it’s such a random situation. I wish I could say that I was the one who blindly stumbled upon this……what do you call it? Does ‘situation’ satisfy this odd and rare circumstance?

All I want to do is call someone…someone that knows this person…again, I’ve never had anything this juicy before beyond so and so’s pregnancy…or so and so’s divorce. Blah…boring…everyone expects those situations from those “so and so” type people. Besides, I’m in my late 20’s…expectations have been raised and the bar set by daily life experiences. But this…no one expects this, let alone imagines it in their wildest dreams. Especially from someone who comes from a clean background and well off family.

Although I plan to name no one…only provide details, I feel as if I’m crossing some line that should never be. But they’re only details of a story! No harm…no foul…right? Well this account just needs to be told…on that note….

My girlfriend is a Leasing Agent for an Apartment Complex. Her reality there is enthralling…with plenty of stories, anywhere from cheating sex-capades, surgeries of teeth removal from abdominal tissue, green card marriages, stolen dogs, and plenty, plenty more. And now she has one more tale to toss onto the ol’ list.

So a very hurried, non-resident, young man walk’s into my friend’s office and hands her a Blackberry. He then says “This is Holly’s. I assume she lives here since I picked her up out front. Can you give it back to her?” My friend responds to him with, “But I don’t have a Holly that lives in my building.” He then places the Blackberry in her hand and says, “Just give it back. I don’t want to deal with her” and then flies out of the room. Well my friend is baffled. Not only does she not know who this girl is, but the phone is dead, so there is no way to track down the owner. As luck would have it, one of her residents has the same phone, and lent her the charger for it. My friend then powers this little bad boy up, allowing energy to surge through its wires.

She starts rummaging through the text messages first, looking for a name she would recognize…but she notices something a little…“off” about these text messages, and becomes a little leery, yet very intrigued. She moves onto the emails to shed a little light on the mystery. Low and behold, this “Holly” girl is not a Holly at all, but rather a Call Girl…that’s right, I said it…she’s a hooker! Emails from multiple men…all talking about her sexy body and how they can’t wait to touch it. Not to mention providing a list of previous references from other Call Girls for "Holly" to check up on. And how she requires them to bring a bottle of Sky vodka to every meeting…personally I feel, in a position like hers, she could ask for something just a little higher end. I guess beggars can’t be choosers sometimes.

But these multiple men…we’re talking names…BIG names. BIG business men names…BIG married business men names….and all absolutely blackmail-able! At this point we’re all so dumbfounded, but so charged with adrenaline, that we immediately search the internet for this Call Girl Holly…sure enough, further confirmation …a web page was found with her wages…$300 an hour…$200 for every additional hour. Wow!

We decide to take our adrenaline and Blackberry to happy hour…wanting to giggle a little longer over a few drinks. But my friend still has no idea who this girl is. Clearly her real name is not Holly. So we decide to go through “Holly’s” emails…fingers crossed to run across a recognizable name. And sure shit…my friend does, putting it all together…and making absolute sense. The girl my friend thought of does in fact live in her building, travels a lot…always in Vegas, Madison, or Denver for weeks “visiting her boyfriend.” And these emails to “Holly”…are from men in Vegas, Madison and Denver. Hell, she even recognized the phone when she realized it. My friend tossed the name out there saying “Clearly, it must be her.” At which point, my eyes literally leave my head. I mean, I have big eyes, but when she shared that name with me…I probably looked alien like. I even choked on my own spite…not knowing if I should inhale or cough. I just have never been so dazed, speechless, and thrilled at the same time in my entire life.

I KNOW that girl…I mean, I went to Middle and High School with her…and if that isn’t random enough, this girl bullied me. Her goal was to make me cry…and to be honest she did a terrible job at it. But the intent was undoubtedly there. And now she’s a Call Girl…and I know about it…and have the corroboration to throw it in her face AND her graduating class. Will I?…unfortunately not. I just don’t have it in me to be that cruel. However…I am a brat enough to fuck with her a little. A new client that doesn’t show up for their “date”….or even an email interest from a fellow classmate….

Damn…….so much information, and my brain is just too tiny to actually do anything with it.

squeezable bacon?!

ok, so one of my friends/co-worker sent me this link yesterday during the day for a new product called Squeeze Bacon...yes, bacon you squeeze out of a bottle. Gross...absolutely, intriguing...certainly.

http://www.thinkgeek.com/stuff/41/squeez-bacon.html

that could either be one of the nastiest things i've ever seen...or perhaps the tastiest. i haven't really decided yet...but i planned to buy a bottle as soon as i saw it sitting on the grocery shelf. i mean, wouldn't you?! personally what really gets me is the picture in the bottom right corner on the website...squeeze bacon on top of real bacon. genius.

after work i started telling a good friend of mine about this weird new product discovery...so we head back to her place so she can see it first hand on the web. well my dumbass mind suddenly became determined. why wait to just see it sitting there...i needed to be proactive about this. “we HAD to try that product NOW!”

so what do I do…but call around to all the local grocery stores seeking out this beauty. and then after not finding it in ANY grocery store, and with curiosity raging through me at this point, i decided to buy it online for $7.99...who cares what the shipping cost!

we clicked the ‘buy button,’ which brought us to this joke page…it took us a good 5-8 minutes of flipping back and hitting the buy button over and over again before we really understood what was going on…despite the joke page coming up every time…it was a joke….and NOT a real product...yes, we were duped.

son of a gun. i’m an idiot...squeeze bacon...what can i say? we were filled with hope and desire. why would we let reality get in our way? haha…you got us…April Fools!

Rejection

Rejection is such a painful word…and it can really demolish aspirations. For instance, I had an ambition to attend Graduate School, and as swiftly as I gained hope and dreams with the prospect of school, they were squashed like an elephant’s pinky toe grinding a peanut to dust.

I knew I was rejected before I even opened the envelope….it was too thin. Immediately tears sprang to my eyes after I pulled it from my mailbox, but even after I read the ol’ “we regret to inform you” sentence, the tears, surprisingly, never fell.

But reality still hangs in front of me, along with the looming question “what the fuck now?” What do I do with my life now? My dream job has been ripped from my hands. Moving cross county seems to be the next best option. A “fresh” start. But isn’t there some old wise man’s tale that your problems keep following you no matter how far you run? Well what if you don’t know how to confront those problems? What if I don’t know what do next? What if I don’t have a plan B? What now old wise man? I could certainly use a tale right about now for inspiration.

In my eyes the best option for advice was the internet. Can you believe that I actually googled “what to do when rejected from Graduate School?” I’m 100% clueless.

it all comes to an end sometime.

as mysterious as it began...it disappeared as quickly. yes...my streak has come to an end. i really felt like a superstar and am truly going to miss that high, but more than that, i'm going to miss those non-hungover days.

generally, i drink like a 40 year old alcoholic, but for a brief and wonderful period my hangover's the day after partying brought no nausea and no headaches. actually, there were no hangovers...i could wake up and run my errands with a quick skip in my step. and how do i know that i have retorted to my old ways?...i just took a minute to praise the porcelain gods in the middle of my last sentence...and that wasn't my first visit.

it was a great moment in my life....like i was 21 again. i hope to encounter that streak again someday in the future. but one can only hope.

Survival to Boredom: reminiscing high school

...you know it's bad when you start doodling in the margins of your Event Update Report while in the middle of a Sales Meeting to keep yourself from boredom. the nostalgia of the scene brought me back to Mr Bentz’s High School Math Class.

just another way

since i have been 5, whenever i walk into a room my father says to anyone who's listening, "wow, she looks like a movie star." you think i would have turned out to be conceited...but really i know it's his way to express his love for me.

a little depressing...mostly for me.

I’ve really been missing my ferret lately….Miss Ferret (I let a three year-old name her) was an extraordinary friend…there to tick me off, keeping me in check…missing me while I’m out on an adventure, keeping me grounded…comforting me when I was gloomy, knowing that regardless of the pain I was still loved and needed…

I had a dream the other night about her…it felt so real, but that non-reality really put me in a melancholy mood after waking. I was holding her...she reached up and sniffed my nose, turned around and wanted to be set down on the ground…she’d itch herself and came running back over to me, wanting to be picked up again, where she would lay in my arms, until she wanted to get back down again…until she wanted to be picked back up again…and then wanted to be put back down. Half the realism came from her up and down movement… it was so typical of her…she never knew what she wanted. Ha…funny …just like her mother. But I could feel her nails scraping against my skin…her soft white fur laying across my arms…her pink little nose touching my, what seems next to hers, gigantic nose.

After telling my friend this dream she said to me, “I honestly think she was visiting you to say hello and see if you were OK. Really. She's your spirit animal in the conscience world. How blessed you are to have that visit and have such an open heart for that connection. My heart goes out to you...hopefully Miss Ferret will visit again.”

After hearing that, suddenly I wasn’t so glum…my mood actually became slightly optimistic. Oh my little stinker…I love her and her little visits, hopefully it comes again…and soon.

St. Patrick's Day: Live Like There's No Tomorrow

I love St. Patty’s Day…and if you’re going to celebrate this once a year opportunity, it should really be the day of…the weekend before never really gives it enough justice other than an excuse to party. But St. Patty’s Day always turns out to be such a positive day…a positive experience. For example…I woke up today with the sun shining…and a 70 degree day ahead of me. I had a very nice brisk walk on my way to work…encountering friendly smiles, warm “hellos,” and shouts of “Happy St. Patty’s Day” around every corner…not to mention the cutest little husky puppy I’m pretty sure I’ve ever seen before. On top of that, I’m leaving work early on the request of my supervisor…letting us get out there and enjoy the day, where I’m going to get a Guinness that never tasted so sweet. I love St. Patty’s Day…which is exactly why everyone should live it like there’s no tomorrow.

boo.

sometimes my own footsteps scare me....

Freakn’ Taxes

I worked very diligently on my taxes the other evening. To be honest, I look forward to doing my taxes every year…I find it fun in a way. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t find starring at paper work for hours that enjoyable…but it’s such an adult responsibility that I find a thrill in it…well, if that makes sense. Anyway…when I was done, the little piece of paper sitting in front of me stated that I owed our federal government nearly $800. Clearly this couldn’t be right. I made a mistake somewhere…after all, what I made last year wasn’t even close to $30,000.

What the heck?! That’s when I began to inquire…

My Dad: “Your brother didn’t have to pay in and he made quite a bit more than you last year.” (….he’s being generous and trying not to make me feel bad when he says my TWIN brother made “quite a bit more”…he makes over double, clearly he chose a better career path)
My good friend: “Dear, we made practically the same amount at our full time jobs and made the same amount as bartenders and I’m getting money back.”
My other good friend: “Wrong, never do your own taxes. Go to H&R or something.”

Ok…so after enough comments like this I realized that I clearly did do something wrong. So I decided to make an appointment and head down the street to the nearest H&R Block…where I sat for an hour and ended up paying $150 for them to tell me I did my taxes correct after all and I STILL owe the government too much money.

Seriously? My dad’s advice “You must have claimed a 1. You need to get that switched.” Taking his advice, I stopped by our HR office to find out what was going on.

“Well you must have claimed a 1,” says my HR lady, confirming my father. “The government takes fewer taxes out when you claim a 1, which is why you have to pay back. However, that still seems like a lot for you to pay in.” She hands me the appropriate paper work…and I switch my “1” to a zero…as I will not allow this to happen again next year.

Just a minute ago she calls me in her office to have a little chat. “Tasha” she says to me “you claimed a 3. They were barely taking any taxes out of your paycheck and that’s why you’re paying so much back.” A 3!!!! A 3 exists on a tax claim? I didn’t even know you could claim anything beyond a 1. Where did a 3 come from?! And how could I have claimed it if I didn’t even know about it?! What on earth IS a 3???

So here’s the bottom line. Back in January, rather than losing our jobs, our company gave everyone a pay cut. Ok…not a big deal. I’d rather have a job than none at all. But now…looking at the big picture, I just received my second pay cut…going from a 3 to a 0 on my federal taxes. Two pay cuts within the first three months of the 2009.

Dear lord…this is going to be a tight year! Maybe I can make some extra money selling fanny packs on the corner of a street.

And they say Chivalry is Dead.

Nicest thing…as I was getting out of a cab heading home from a show, a gentleman came running over. I opened the door and he immediately stepped up. I had assumed he wanted my cab, seeing numerous screaming people running towards it while driving from the show towards my place. As I began to climb out, he reached for my hand and lifted me out of the car. Turns out, he didn’t want my cab at all. Rather, he was on his phone outside a restaurant and saw that I was about to step out onto a thick layer of ice and didn’t want me to fall……so gallant and courteous men still do exist.

the good life.

best thing on earth...boogie on the corner of a street. and preferably with a friend. it feels good to dance, even if it's only 12 on a thursday night in front of bar and on a popular street. it's not about them, it's about you.

A New Self-Revelation

I unearthed something brand new about myself today. Generally I don’t like my handwriting, but this discovery helps me in that department…as my scribble looks better in blue ink than it does in black ink. Upon this breakthrough, I immediately removed all black ink pens from my pen organizer and replaced with them blue ink. Strange yes, but does it make me happy…absolutely.

...sometimes winter feels like it will never end

And as officially as I had removed my second skin 19 days ago...I have now replaced it, putting 'em back on...damn long johns...damn Wisconsin weather...but damn, I love this city. It's truly a love-hate relationship.

What the Hell is that Smell?!

I’ve smelled some stinky things lately. Currently I’m sitting at my desk…and all I can smell is what seems to be a rotten orange. Why? I don’t even have an orange at my desk let alone a rotten one. The other day I was in a meeting, and all I could smell was staaanky feet…like someone kicked off their shoes and throw their staaanky feet up on the conference table, inches away from my nose. And then there was the smell of rotten food…in my apartment none-the-less…but my dishes were done, fridge cleaned out, and trash taken out…and those tasks were completed a few days ago so there shouldn’t be any lingering smells like that hanging out in my kitchen.

At first I thought it was me. I smelt my hair…my cloths…my arm pits. “Is that meeee?!” But nope…I’m 100% confident the smells are not me, but they seem to be following me around. And these smells are something you don’t want to loiter around too frequently or long. So why are these annoying and so far from delightful smells trailing me? It’s so unexplainable. I mean…are they chasing me? Or do I happen to be in the wrong place at the very wrong time? Does anyone else smell them?

I fear these questions will never be answered.

An Elegy to Music

Music is a wonderful thing isn’t it?! It has the ability to change someone’s mood, create a romantic/excited situation, and help others concentrate on the work at hand. My friend’s father told me if he could have any super power, he would want to hear music in his head, basically a soundtrack for his entire existence. Life would be so dramatic…your cat just died and Portishead’s “Road” consumes your mind. Or you just got that new promotion and Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger” takes over your body. Unfortunately neither he nor I have this amazing ability, so we need to take advantage of what we do have…MP3 players, stereos, the internet…

When it comes to music, I’m utterly intrigued by what people listen to while in the work place…and in some ways this can be extremely hilarious. For instance, while walking by the HR office earlier, I heard Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You.” And this song wasn’t just playing quietly in the background…she was blaring the tune (the door was shut mind you)… rockn’ out behind her computer screen. Personally I would love the freedom of gettn’ jiggy with my own playlist while at work…oh what a glorious thought…stick in the earbuds and lose myself in my work and music…no outside distractions…I’m particularly attracted by the idea because people would be less compelled to stop by and talk needlessly to me about something I clearly don’t care about. Unfortunately I don’t have that luxury thanks to the large amount of in-coming calls I receive throughout the day. BUT! I am fortunate to have speakers with access to Pandora or Radio Milwaukee any day or time of the week.

I certainly have no complaints about my music options…besides, beggars can’t be choosers. I remember back in high school when I worked at a department store…and I remember the music too. Ugh! Let’s just say I’m not a big fan of “easy listening” at all…hell, even Christmas music! I slightly threw up in my month if even the thought of Christmas music crossed my mind for years because of that job. I’m now back to a tolerable state with it, but even Christmas music is better than no music at all. Keep in mind there are the employees out there who don’t even have the option of listening to ANYTHING?! If it wasn’t for me, my cub-mate wouldn’t get to listen to music…and lucky for her we have the same taste. Of course there are other circumstances than this. For instance, I have friends who share an office with each other. One can’t stand the silence while the other can’t stand music. A terrible situation it’s true.

But it’s exactly why I should be lucky enough to listen to music while on the job …many people can’t say as much. And silence is so defining. Who in there right mind can concentrate at all without it? Whitney is far better than hearing the light buzz of the florescent lights in the background…or how about those annoying hyena laughter outbursts down the hall, the shrill is like nails on a chalkboard to me. My favorite is when I’m on the phone with a customer, and someone decides they need to have a very vocal conversation about what they did over the weekend or some other life changing event that needs to be told right at that moment, right in front of my cub, and at the loudest volume possible before its considered shouting. Granted, even music can’t due anything about the previous comment…but I just needed to complain about it.

So I’m not a poet…on that note I’m barely a writer. But this is as close as I get to a poem. Ode to music…and to I T for placing me with a computer that allows me to hear the sweet harmonies and rhythmic beats every day. Without it, seconds would turn into hours…dragging time by, making life absolutely dull.

A Quick Goodbye to Winter…see ya!

For the first day in 68 days I think I am ready to shed my second skin. This second skin…also known as long johns…is an additional layer to help keep the little warmth in and the freezing cold out over the past few winter months…or actually couple months…it just seems like the dreadful season has been so much longer than it really has been. And let me tell ya…longs johns are really handy…they’re practically my favorite article of clothing during the winter, especially when you don’t have a car and rely on your legs to get you around the city. Long johns are a staple in my wardrobe…as much a staple as underwear.

As much as I love long johns, I am not upset by any means to see these suckers go…and Saturday, with a high a 45, is a day they can definitely go…stuffing them back at the bottom of my underwear drawer…but not quite at the bottom. I don’t think it’s even remotely close to pull my bikini out yet (it’s the very last item in the pile, at the very very bottom before you hit wood)…but soon enough if it will make an appearance. With the loss of my second skin and with warmer weather only days ahead, it’s a sign for radiator conditions, and eventually, summer will only be right around the bend.

Good bye long johns…good bye winter. I don’t look forward to seeing you next year.

Only in Milwaukee…

Only in Milwaukee will you find people who understand and show compassion when you turn down a night of a few cocktails for reasons to conserve your energy and money for the following days drinking event. We (or maybe “I”) should be considered so lucky to be surrounded by as many drunks as we are…which is really one of Milwaukee’s greatest charms. I definitely don’t think this would be the case in any other city in the United States…well, maybe the exception is Vegas…but that city is far too over stimulating with the flashing lights and constant stream of entertainment from whatever direction you look in anyway.

But it’s true. I just received a call from a friend who needed me to check out his band this evening…a gig they’re hoping to have on a monthly basis, which is why they need as many bodies to fill the venue for support…the more people who show, the more secure the gig becomes. He was very considerate, supportive, and understanding when I told him the reason for my absence was due to a pub crawl that I was partaking in the following day. Both events are a big deal here in Milwaukee…but I’m pretty sure only a fellow Milwaukeean would see it that way.

I live in a good state…but an even better city…just saying.

Mindless-ness Just Takes Over, What Can I Say?!

At one o’clock in the morning, I found my eyes glued to the television screen…to a movie (if you can call it that) on the public access programming channel. And what was the subject of this appallingly dreadful film? …vampires. Saying this is the worst vampire film doesn’t really justify it enough, and more accurately said, the worst film in history. Bold statement right?! This is beyond a B rated film…would an F film (F=Fail) truly describe it? The script was bad, the vampire teeth terrible, the acting even worse…and of course there were the rough camera shots, ghastly scene cuts, awful fight scenes, horrific sound effects and background music…and above all, there was absolutely no story line.

After saying all that, I wish I could say after watching 2 minutes of this almost offensive movie that I flipped the channel and just kept on flippn’…or had the will power to hit the power button and crawl into bed. Yes, I did flip…but I was so intrigued by such an awful film that I actually flipped back to that damn public access programming channel…and I continued to watch this film for the next half hour. Clearly such a bad fabricated film had to be some kind of high school production that involved far too many friends and family members of the director and script writer.

However, just because it was bad doesn’t mean it wasn’t hilarious. My favorite scene was when this boy was running down, what seemed to be an endless stairwell, away from the blood sucking vampire. But what made this scene so instantaneously classic…as the boy ran “down” the stairs in an attempt to escape the vicious vampiress, he ran by the 3rd floor four times! And on the fifth turn down, she was waiting for him…on the 3rd floor! Twilight Zone?…or poorly filmed? And randomly the scene would cut to an image of--I don’t know what was going on actually, but it was slightly reminiscent of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, except with terrible heavy metal music in the backdrop. Not really sure what this scene switch had to do with the already poorly written story line…but the director felt that this man (and scene) apparently played an intrical part of the film.

Beyond how dumb this movie truly was…the fact of the matter is, I watched it…AND NOW I’m writing about it.

Not that I’ve watched all that many shows on the public access programming channel in the past, but is this what they show in the wee morning hours?! How did this movie get picked to be aired on public programming anyway?! I’m just so intrigued. Did it win some kind of high school film contest (which I really can’t believe unless it won the worst high school film production of 2008)? It makes me wonder if anything will be put on TV just so the channel doesn’t have a blank screen. It would back my theory about Fox’s The Morning Blend…on Monday-Friday at 9am. It seems NBC has just given up trying to compete against Regis and Kelly on ABC…so NBC fills the time slot with SOMETHING…probably one of the worst something’s I’ve ever encountered on TV (other than this vampire film). At least they could put on a Magic Bullet infomercial--that’s far more entertaining to watch. The Magic Bullet is unusual for an infomercial. It sets up a scenario in which the action is supposed to take place, plus everyone is hung over from a “barbecue” that occurred the day prior. My favorite character is Hazel...the smoker that has an ash at the end of cig that never falls off...she’s rude, foul, and even slightly disgusting. I love it.

But this brings us back to the point I’ve already made. Television is absolutely mindless, and people will watch ANYTHING, including myself apparently. After a half hour of pure disgust in the show, the idocracy finally wore off and I became bored…at last I hit the power button and headed to bed…now regretting the decision, as I am tired as hell today. And what did I gain out of the sacrifice of a late night of television watching…my theory even more closely proven…a bad program is better than no program.

A side note…I now have a lot more respect for actors. From my exposure from television shows and films, they make acting look relatively easy…even a bad actor makes it look like a cake-walk career. But after watching these actors, I realized acting actually does require skill.

Happy Birthday Mil-Town

i may not have been around for the past 155 years, but at least i've had the past 9 years with plenty more to come in the future. you've treated me well. happy birthday milwaukee. i plan to take a shot in your name.

The GRE - Will it Ever Come?!

I’m afraid! I’m days away from the GRE (Graduate Record Exam) and I’ve given up. Literally, I take the GRE in two days. 2! And I’ve lost all steam. I’m just sick of preparing…trying to memorize and learn every number, word, suggestion. I don’t know why I found it to be a good idea to take the test on a Friday – to give myself more time – yeah, that’s what I originally thought. It made sense at the time, but it’s actually a terrible idea. I just want that damn test over with already.

I’m allowing everything to distract me…jumping on the piano, trying to get just that one measure right…or delving into Eat, Prey, Love, just one more chapter and then I’ll get back to studying “I swear!” I’m so over distracted that I couldn’t even center myself during yoga the other night…not even when we heard the bubbling brook or walked into the soft light of the waterfall (our version of “meditation”). I never had that problem before…the light of the waterfall is my favorite part. I’m even allowing blogging to distract me.

How do I do that?! How can I be so passionate and motivated in the beginning, only to end up caring less in the end? This isn’t the first this happened to me recently. A few months back, I was dead set on scrapbooking. I had all these pictures lying around from my travels, begging to be dealt with…just sitting in the corner of my room collecting dust. I spent a good couple months assembling everything I needed to begin the scrapbooking process. By the time I was ready to embark on this new found fun, I lost all interest…I wasn’t engrossed anymore. So now there my scrapbooking material sits…in the corner next to the pictures.

I blame this damn test…a test I don’t care all that much about, even when I was motivated in the beginning. It certainly doesn’t prove me – it doesn’t truly show what I’m capable of producing or handling. So what if I get a bad score, so what! That doesn’t mean I will do a poor job in graduate school...just because I may not know the meaning of loquacious or what the variable of x is. All I want to do is study some art, learn how it has shaped the world today, and how I can take that new knowledge and teach it to others through exhilarating exhibitions.

For the record, I’m not throwing in the towel for graduate school. I’m very much looking forward to new education…and learning French. I’m just throwing in the towel for this damn test.

Regardless, I’m walking into that testing room…with just me. I’m going into this test with a little bit of knowledge and a hell of a lot of instinct. My arms will be open and I will say “bring it.” Maybe I will briefly feel like Rocky Balboa…walking into the ring against Apollo Creed, except hopefully, like Rocky II, I will conquer rather than be defeated. I hope that doesn’t mean I need to keep my fingers crossed. Although I have a feeling that is what it’s boiling down to. But in the end, no matter what the outcome, that damn test will be over with. And I can’t wait!