Wednesday, November 28, 2012


I always find myself with fantastic blog ideas right around the time when I should be doing other things, so the fact that I have 2 group projects due in less than a week means I'm feeling damned creative and am ready to procrastinate the fuck out of this evening.

While driving across town at 8pm this evening to get my hair cut in someone's living room, I did a very dishonorable, embarrassing thing - I listened to KOST 103.5 for their 24/7 Christmas music extravaganza.  Generally it's the same songs, Mariah Carey or Bing Crosby, but not tonight.  No feel good warm fuzzies for this drive.  Immediately upon turning on the radio, an 80s-ish sounding song comes on.  I listen to the words, since it's not a traditional Christmas song...and suddenly David Bowie or who the hell ever starts singing about how there's no food or rain in Africa, and do they even know it's Christmas?

First of all, this is quite contrary to what I know about the rains in Africa - I bless those rains.  Second, WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO DEPRESS ME?  Seriously, the whole song was like "everything sucks, people have no food, it's a drought, we're so angsty, Africa is full of sad dying people, do they even know it's Christmas?" all with cheerful-sounding sleigh bells in the background.  Come on, KOST, just because the song says the word "Christmas" doesn't necessarily mean it's a cheerful holiday tune.  (And for the record, it was "Do they even know it's Christmas" by "Band Aid" - some random charity shit I remember vaguely being made fun of on SNL in the early 90s)

Why do you think I listen exclusively to KDAY?  I don't want to hear about starving people, I want to hear about that Maserati you bought with your drug money and all the hos you got up in your grill.  That's some happy shit right there.  Cristal poppin in the stretch Navigator... how's that NOT UPLIFTING?  But I digress.

Luckily Whiney McSadness was quickly followed by Little Drummer Boy, which took me off suicide watch, but also got me thinking.  Christmas songs are fucking stupid.  Hey, I'm a poor kid and I want to bring you a baby gift, but since I can't buy anything, how about I show up at your house while your baby sleeps and BANG ON MY DRUMS?  Sound good?  Sweet, because that's what's gonna happen.  Babies love loud noises, this is going to go over great.  I'm going to show up in my friend's hospital room someday with a drumset after she gives birth and take great offense when she tells me to get the fuck out, because obviously Jesus thought this was a cool ass gift.

And "chestnuts roasting on an open fire..."  Has anyone ever even eaten a chestnut?  I know they must exist, if only because of that song and the fact that things like horses and wood and hair can be chestnut-colored.  I've had walnuts, peanuts, Brazil nuts (that'd be a good song), pistachios, macadamia nuts, almonds, I can keep going here...seriously, name me a food that has chestnuts.  Tell me the last time you ate one.  Why on earth are they associated with Christmas?  If they were so awesome wouldn't they bust out the chestnuts in early November right along with the canned pumpkin and egg nog?  Can't they just change the song to smores?  I know that's not Christmassy, but it's the only believable thing that can be roasted on an open fire, unless you want to go all out with a whole pig or something.  But, for simplicity's sake, we'll do smores.

I've already expressed my displeasure with the leaping lords of the 12 Days of Christmas.  While a friend on facebook explained the symbolism of all the gifts in the song, she failed to find an answer for why the hell the lords LEAP.  Despite my relatively small bank of knowledge on British aristocracy, I'm pretty sure "leaping" wasn't something lords did frequently.  Perhaps it's a German thing.  But then it probably would have been  "kaisers kicking," which I'm actually pretty sure kaisers would do on occasion, whether it be small animals, servants, or their wives.  Couldn't lords loiter?  Or just lord, perhaps?  I mean, they let the drummers drum, so why get all complicated.  Lords can lord over their serfs.  Done and done.  But fancy Christmas song man would prefer they leap.  Because of this I request a video of the House of Lords in a spontaneous group leap.

And because KOST is a family-friendly station and apparently Adam Sandler doesn't live up to that label, my favorite Christmas song, "The Hannukah Song," is never played.  It's SO GOOD.  It MAKES SENSE.  No chestnuts or drumming for babies or leaping lords, just drinking gin and tonnakah and smoking marijuannakah.  Have a happy, happy, happy Hannukah...

And people wonder why I wanted to be a Jew when I was a kid.

Saturday, October 20, 2012


I have been called many things in my life, and a great deal of them are true.  I may be a bit overbearing, sometimes I'm depressing, I can get annoying, I can be a bitch, I might flake on you at the last minute, I procrastinate better than most, I'm self-deprecating, sometimes I make bad decisions, I'm not good with money, I tend to not make up my mind, I have some anger management issues, I'm on a shitton of medication, and often times I don't think before I speak.  I may be inappropriate, immature, and not "professional."  Perhaps that's because I was required to act like a 40 year old for two full years while putting the scum of the earth in jail.  Maybe I need a little bit of a breather.

Let me tell you something.  I have managed to go 30 years without being arrested, called into the principal's office, disciplined at work, or getting in a physical fight.  I graduated from high school having never had a drink of an alcoholic beverage with a 3.8 gpa, was accepted into multiple top-twenty undergraduate universities, and received a scholarship at the one I attended and a full scholarship to another.  I never got into trouble in college, I never got cited for drinking underage, I never even got kicked out of a party.

I've never smoked a cigarette.  As stated by one of the members of my sorority in college, "Not even when you were 13 and it was cool?"  Nope.  Never.  With the exception of the 9-0, which barely counts due to a complete and utter lack of following the law, I never entered a bar before the age of 21.  I never owned a fake ID.  I'm probably one of the only people who made it through adolescence without shoplifting something minor like a lipstick or nail polish. 

What's the consensus here?  I'm not a thief.  I'm not a liar.  I may make questionable decisions about my finances, about where I park my car, about what I do on any given night, but I am not a criminal.  Let me say that again.  I DO NOT LIE.  Regardless of the consequences, I AM NOT A LIAR.  I DO NOT LIE, DO NOT CALL ME A LIAR YOU WORTHLESS FUCK.  You can tell me all the things I've done wrong in the past year, and lying is NOT one of them. 

Yes, I may have two (.25) degrees.  I may be a licensed attorney in two states.  I may be back at school for the third time ON SCHOLARSHIP because I won't settle for a job I don't like.  I'm sorry I'm older than you and generally more successful.  I'm sorry I'm more attractive than you and I get hit on every day by cops and people who come in to the office.  I'm sorry you feel you need to be a ginormous bitch because you're a woman and a glorified secretary.  I'm sorry that I actually did the work I was supposed to do without bitching despite the fact that I was being paid 1/4 of what I was paid as a contract attorney.  I'm sorry I'm doing something with my life and you're stuck in a dead-end job that, without a peace officer's license, will never amount to more than a highly trained administrative assistant.  And I'm sorry that I made a mistake that you will not acknowledge IS NOT A LIE.  I admit my faults.  I admit when I fuck up.  I did fuck up, but I in NO WAY lied about it.  Why the hell would I tell people if I thought something I was doing was illegal?  "Yeah, I've got this meth I'm gonna go sell in the middle of campus, I'll be there in 5, send your friends."  I'm not a fucking moron.  I've dealt with morons.  I was a goddamned prosecutor.  Some people are liars, and some people make mistakes.  I can tell the difference.  Sorry you can't.

You can ask any friend of mine, or any person who knows me.  I have faults, I have weaknesses, but I am trustworthy and I am honest.  Even people who think I'm a ginormous bitch know I'm honest.  Probably because I was being honest when I was being a ginormous bitch.  I'm not going to be fake, or pretend to be something I'm not.  If I don't feel comfortable talking to someone about something, I just keep it inside, I don't lie about it.  I'm not sure if it's jealousy or simply female on female angst, but I know a male in your position would have at least listened to me and not called me a liar multiple times.  Call me lazy, call me mean, call me unprofessional, call me conniving, call me vengeful, but DO NOT CALL ME A LIAR, because that is at least ONE THING that you can say about me that is untrue.  I hope you're as miserable as you seem to be on a daily basis.  Go fuck yourself.

Saturday, September 15, 2012


I've started a rather interesting minimum-wage work study job with DPS at USC, which is basically their police station.  I have the honorable duty to be the lost and found girl, which requires the skills and reflexes of a ninja.  People call me or come in, ask if someone has turned in their lost wallet, hat, or 2 foot drum from band practice that is so easily misplaced, and I heroically swoop in with their lost item, saving the day and their money.  Then sometimes this happens.

Phone rings.
ME:  DPS lost and found...
GUY:  Heyyyyyyy............I, uh, lost...........myyyyy....(REAAALLY long pause)...robot.
M:  Your robot?
G:  Yeahhh.  (obviously he had just eaten 50 special brownies)
M:  Well, I've been here all morning, and I'm pretty sure I'd remember it if someone brought in a robot.
G:  So you don't have it?
M:  No.  No I don't.
G:  Are you SURE?  Could you check?
M:  Um, could you describe your robot?
G:  Uhhh...whaaat?
M:  Your robot.  What does it look like?
G:'s red....
M:  Like for instance, does it look like a person?  Or a dog?  Or is it a Roomba?
M:  It's a vacuum cleaner that vacuums your house for you.
G:  OH...that's, no it's not a roomba.  (long pause)
M:  Well I'll keep an eye out for your robot, dude.
G:  Ok...ok thanks...
*I hang up*

I found this highly amusing.  A prank call to lost and found?  In the middle of the day?  College, gotta love it.  But it got better.  Ten minutes later he calls back.

M:  DPS lost and found...
G:  Heyyyy you remember my robot?!
M:  Yep, I do in fact remember your robot.
G:  So I just remembered,'s in a bag.......with 2 boxes.....
M:  Ok.  What's in the boxes?
G:  The robot. 
M:  So your robot is inside a box that is inside a bag...
G:  Yeah.  So NOW have you seen it?
M:  Nope.  No one has brought in a robot in a bag.
G:  Oh.  Damn. 
*I decide to take some liberties with this obviously confused young man*
M:  Would you say your robot's smart?
G:  Huh? 
M:  Is your robot smart?
G:  Yeah it's real smart. 
M:  Do you think your robot is smart enough to find his way home?
G:.............uh, maybe?
M:  Here's what you should do.  You should go home and wait for him.
G:   Huh?
M:  Well, your robot probably has a GPS in him, right?  So he can probably find his own way home if he's got a GPS.
G:.....uh, ok.
M:  So you just stay home, and I'm sure your robot will be home soon.  Just wait.  He'll show up.
G:.......uhh...ok....yeah, ok.(as if I had just given him a good idea)
M:  Good luck, man.
*I hang up*

Somehow I manged to out-prank a prank caller, because he was too high to remember what the hell he was doing.  The best part was that my boss (a girl my age) was in her office and heard just my side of this conversation and came out when it was over with the most confused look on her face ever.  Best job ever.

Monday, June 25, 2012


Spurred on by some recent events, but just in general, after being able to fly, of course, these are my chosen superpowers:

- When someone is driving below the speed limit, I could use my mind to make their car go faster, and consequently freak them out while easing my commute

- The ability to instantaneously turn fat and ugly (or perhaps just frumpy and plain) when doing things such as passing a construction site, walking past homeless people, or standing outside waiting for something near a roadway to avoid catcalls.

- Some way of projecting both my bank balance and my credit score to store clerks when I'm just browsing and they keep bothering me.  Same thing for homeless people.

- Be able to give one single look that scares every single misbehaving child on the planet into becoming quiet and respectable

- Emit some sort of gross smell or irritating sound frequency that targets only ugly guys considering hitting on me, and it gets stronger the closer they get to me

- A force to physically get me to an exercise site and make me exercise

- Some sort of magical shower device that cleans my body and hair, but I don't have to take all the time to redo my hair and makeup

- If someone doesn't use their turn signal at a necessary time, their horn will blast for 30 seconds without being able to stop it

Monday, June 18, 2012


Yesterday I got myself out of my house to go on a hike through Griffith Park.  Being outside makes me feel infinitely better, and I figured exercise couldn't hurt.  That and it's free.  I hike up the hill to the Griffith Observatory, which, for those that aren't familiar, is a planetarium overlooking LA that was built in the 30s and has lots of exhibits on space inside.  It, too, is gloriously free, and the view is amazing, so I make it up there about once a month.

Walking around the exhibits, I start reading about the sun, types of stars, meteorites that had been found in the US, and other space things.  I usually don't stay too long, since it's usually pretty crowded, but yesterday was different.  I got a lot more engaged in the exhibits than normal.  As you walk down this ramp to the lower level, there's a whole wall of star-shaped jewels, pins, earrings, and other shiny things that have obviously been collected over the years from lots and lots of people.  The line of stars goes all the way down to the bottom of the ramp, which is a good half of the circular building, and it's to represent the big bang and the things that have occurred in the time since that.

It goes through probably 40 feet of sparkly stars before you even get to the creation of the Milky Way.  Then, within a couple of feet, you have the sun, planets, and present day.  That 40 feet represented BILLIONS of years before the earth even existed.  And considering the earth is what, 4.6 billion (could look it up, but too lazy) years old, it kind of blows your mind.  Then there's the amount of time earth existed before life of any kind came about, which is longer than life HAS been around.  On the lower level, there's also a scale model of the solar system, showing each planet in relation to the others.  Earth next to Jupiter is so insignificant.  And then, in reality, Jupiter is insignificant compared to stars, which are insignificant compared to our galaxy, and so on out to other galaxies and space that we only guess what might exist.

I have been feeling relatively depressed for the past month due to lack of employment and other issues arising out of said unemployment, and suddenly to realize just how insignificant I was in the realm of space and time was almost a comfort.  What happens in my life is as insignificant to the universe as what happens to one particular grain of sand (with which I may never come into contact) in my lifetime.  The fact that the earth exists is fairly inconsequential to every other star and every other galaxy, so the fact that I even exist is not even worth mentioning in the grand scheme of the universe.

So how can something so insignificant have problems that seem so large?  That was definitely a lesson in perspective.  I'm just a conglomeration of particles with electrical impulses that to me turn into pain, suffering, happiness, and excitement...and we don't even really know what that means yet.  The mind hasn't been completely figured out.  Because I am nothing, my problems are nothing.  One person being unemployed versus a giant star dying and sucking millions of planets and other stars into its implosion?

It may baffle some people that this thought relaxes me.  That something I do wrong really affects nothing in the whole grand scheme of the universe.  If I fail or if I succeed, I have changed nothing relating to anything of consequence in this ever-expanding universe.  Even on earth, did the fact that one t-rex ate a particular small dinosaur do anything to affect history as we know it?

Some people turn to religion to feel comfort in times of hardship.  It comforts them to think everything is "god's plan."  I don't really find it comforting to think that some puppetmaster decided Johnny the hobo was destined to sleep under a bridge and get beaten to death by some crackheads.  I'm comforted by science because not only is it simply fascinating that we exist, but how awe-inspiring something as large as the universe is, and how everything is just a piece of something else.  I'm not aware of the life of a particular electron in my body, and I'm like that electron in the universe.  Necessary for some reason, but still inconsequential to nearly everything.

Friday, June 1, 2012


Dear Life,

First off, I would like to thank you for the fact that I got into my master's program and that I got a nice chunk of scholarship money from USC.  That was probably the best thing that's happened in my life since I moved to California.

While I appreciate the magnitude of awesome that was presented to me in the way of school, I don't think it's quite the caliber of luck (say, winning $10 million) that would justify YOU SHITTING ALL OVER ME for my remaining 80 days as a non-student.  Seriously, I got the picture.  Once is enough.

After my minor breakdown and extreme necessity of a trip to visit my parents, somehow you came through with airline points to get me a free flight, despite it leaving at 1:35am.  I'll take what I can get, no complaints.  The vacation was nice, and restful, and I was ready to face you head on when I returned home.  I wasn't, however, ready for all the fun you had planned for me.

I'd only been en route from Columbia to LA for 8ish hours when I finally reached my car and was prepared to drive it home and crash in my somewhat uncomfortable but at least fully reclined bed, but I found you left me a surprise - every electrical device in my car was dead.  No lights, no electric locks, no pushing the alarm button, no turning over of the ignition.  At first this didn't seem like a huge problem, since it was my (WRONG) assumption that I knew at least one human being in this town with jumper cables.  In fact, I do not.

Adding on to that fact, I also did not have roadside assistance coverage through Honda, through my insurance, or through AAA, which I had cancelled because $50 a month is not something I can be throwing around all willy nilly.  45 minutes later, I'm finally attempting to dial a towing service in hopes they can come jump my car, and right in front of me pulls up a man in a car, who GETS OUT JUMPER CABLES, and attaches them to another car 10 feet away from me.  Life just threw me a bone!

With Archie's help (the retired gentleman who lived across the street, and was moving his car for street cleaning the next day), I was able to charge my car and get home.  I breathe a sigh of relief and get home to bed.  But you're not done, are you?  Of course not.

The next morning I wake up and send emails to the two companies I'd been waiting on to get back to me about legal temp work that they said they had coming up.  Within minutes, BOTH companies wrote back and said that they were either cancelled or severely cut back, and I wasn't going to be working anytime soon.  FAN FUCKING TASTIC.  I have $46 in cash, an empty gas tank, a $500 check to deposit, and two days off my meds to make me feel that much better.  I stop at the pharmacy, spend the $40 on my prescriptions, get $6 in gas so I can make it to the bank, and go deposit my check, which is promptly sent to Honda to pay for my car payment I missed 2 weeks ago.

I'm feeling shit on again, so something makes me stop at the corner store and use $3 in quarters to buy 3 scratch off lotto tickets.  In the magical moment I had there in that corner store, my first ticket gave me $20!  The rest did nothing, but I was happy I was $17 up.  Then I get home and find an email from a friend asking me to do a few hours of work for her company the next day since I'm painfully unemployed.  I agree and begin to think things are turning around.  HA.  HAAAAAHAHA.

The next day, I make it to the office and begin doing the postage work I've been hired to do, and then I go to load my car with my finished boxes to take back to the post office - and to pick up more customs forms.  In the process of loading my trunk, I thought it would be a good idea to set my keys down IN the trunk, and then shut it.  I stand in awe for a second at the marvel that is me getting shat on for the eleventy billionth time in 48 hours, and walk down the street to ask the guys at the auto body shop for some help.

It turns out I drive the safest car on the planet, because with all the lock popping tools in the world these guys cannot unlock my car.  It takes them 45 minutes and about 50 different strategies before they end up being able to pop my trunk, at which point I am so grateful/feel so bad that I give them the $20 bill I so gloriously won in the lottery the night before.  This feels especially obnoxious since I gave them $20 (well-earned, but still) for 45 minutes, while I'm making $15 an hour.

When I finally load the car with the boxes, I have the pleasure of driving to the post office that is less than 1 mile away during some sort of manhunt with cops and police helicopters shutting off lanes of traffic.  It only takes 20 minutes to go a mile.  I'm so flustered at this point that I take the boxes inside, get them shipped, and walk out WITHOUT more customs forms - which are required for me to finish my job and actually get paid.  Don't realize this til I get back, and once I do, I pretend I just want to take more boxes to the post office, turn right around, and get back in the 20 minute traffic jam because I'm a dumb piece of shit who can't remember to get a stack of forms when that is ONE OF TWO things I'm supposed to do on an errand.

I walk back in 40 minutes later and the boss asked me "Did you get shot?" referencing the shooter the police were chasing through the neighborhood.  No, I replied, but it might have been easier if I had.  In fact, I started thinking - had I gotten shot somewhere like the arm, I'd have a few days in the hospital, it wouldn't be a part of my body that would be especially painful to have disfigured (unlike my face, torso, or legs), and I'd get fucking disability so I could actually pay for my life until school starts.  But of course, Life,  you wouldn't let me get shot.  That's too easy.

I'm actually scared to see what you'll come up with next.  I'm hesitant to leave my house, in case my car gets towed, catches fire, dies on the freeway.  I'd consider becoming an alcoholic or some sort of pill addict, but I'm too fucking poor.  I can't even buy a whole tank of gas, let alone drugs.

 So please.  I know I've had a streak of luck this year, but good lord, it was only a couple of things.  I don't need to be beaten down every single day to be grateful for it.  It's kind of funny now, but a couple more days of this might send me to the mental hospital, or jail - depending on how I handle it.  Let's just not push this too far, mmkay?  That'd be great.  Thanks.


Monday, May 7, 2012


WELCOME BACK, READERS. My apologies for having taken so long to find another thing to blog about, but as they say, "good" things come to those who wait.

Back in September I had virtually given up on my online dating profile, but since it was free, I didn't bother to take it down. People would still message me, I'd check it out, see they were ugly, and delete it. Simple and not bothersome. One day, however, I got a very short message from a cute guy with a hilarious profile - "I think we could be best friends. No shit." I wrote back, and eventually it turned into a texting/phone conversation in the next few days. As much as I hate the phone, we hit it off immediately - no awkward pauses and we talked for 2 hours. Fast forward, and we go on a date. Then we go on another one.

Things progress well. He always responds to texts, invites me to do things, introduces me to his friends, asks to be introduced to mine, all that great stuff. Suddenly, one day he starts acting weird. While he still calls and wants to hang out, he won't kiss me. Things are different. Rightfully, I'm confused and worried. I feel that this warrants an explanation, and force him to give me one. He proceeds to tell me that not only do I have bad breath, I have it after I brush my teeth, after chewing gum, and gives me a run down of all the times he's noticed. Then he tells me he can't really be in a dating type relationship with someone he can't kiss, but he really likes me so we should be friends. I cry, but honestly, who wouldn't cry when a guy they like tells them they have bad breath? That's fucking embarrassing and horrifying.

I, in my idiocy, don't see this as a red flag. A) no guy has ever mentioned my breath before, excluding "morning breath," and b) I assumed this was a simple case of me going to the dentist and figuring out what was wrong. I hadn't been in 5 years. I specifically asked him "If I get this fixed, will you date me again?" He said "YES DEFINITELY." I don't put words in people's mouths, and I don't go around throwing money away, so I didn't make that up. I make an appointment with the dentist and find out that I need a "deep" cleansing that requires anesthetic, and while I thought I had dental insurance, I find out AFTER the procedure that it isn't valid because it was from my temp job which was on hiatus. So I end up spending approximately $1300 on dental procedures (which, while it IS crazy, I did in fact desperately need them because I hadn't been to a dentist in years).

 Excitedly I call him up and say I went to the dentist and got a deep clean, and I should be good to go. We hang out that night, and guess what? He says it's STILL THERE. I'm fresh out of cash and have the cleanest teeth outside of dentures in a glass, so I'm perturbed. While he hasn't acknowledged that we're dating again, he begins to act like it, so I just go with it.

The fact that I don't know what's going on is making me absolutely insane, yet I try to calm the crazy and not let it out around him. I do a decent job, with a few rounds of tears (like 2, seriously.) because I am so fucking confused. ALL HIS FRIENDS think we're dating. He doesn't do anything to dispel that thought from my mind or theirs.

 Overall, I find out some more red flags - he's madly in love with a girl from high school (he's 30) that he hasn't seen in years and never dated. He hates his dad because he was "never good enough" as a kid (self-esteem! yay!). He doesn't talk to his mom very often because she disapproves of him dumping his last girlfriend. His last girlfriend was a bipolar model. He can't handle that I'm on antidepressants because he doesn't understand the VAST difference between clinical depression and BI FUCKING POLAR. Me crying? Depression. Britney Spears shaving her head and going crazy on paparazzi? BIPOLAR. BIG DIFFERENCE. He wants "lots of kids" and I don't want any. Specifically, he said he won't change any diapers or anything like that, he'll just "come on the scene" when they're toddlers and teach them how to behave. OH GREAT, I have a kid I don't want and you won't even fucking help me with it. Great dad...probably a lot like yours.

Despite knowing that this could never really work out for those many reasons, I had put in a decent amount of time on this and was emotionally attached. He was the one strongly pushing for us to remain friends because he thought I was "awesome and fun." Fine. I tried the whole just friends thing. It was hard and made me crazy. After New Years we didn't see each other for weeks.

I saw him perhaps twice before my birthday party, which he actually showed up to and brought a gift that was an inside joke between us. Seems caring, right? Apparently not. He texts me one last time a few weeks later to ask if I could do lunch, which I couldn't because I actually had a job at that time. He begins to post things on facebook like "why do all women let me down?" Who does that? Angsty GIRLS. I don't even do that, I just bitch to my friends about it. Maybe people are "letting you down" because you're being a dick to them, confusing them with your signals, or just generally being weird and depressive?

Finally I get a text from him last week that asks if he can come by and get the dvd set and book he loaned me. I said sure, I'd be around the next couple of days because I didn't have a job right now. To that he replied "Everyone knows you live off your parents." !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If anything could be further from the truth, it's that. That's my trigger. That's my "DON'T TALK ABOUT MY MAMMA THAT WAY" thing. I flipped out and gave him the REAL truth, told him the only money I ever get is when I'm super super desperate and my grandma gives me a tiny bit from her pension leftover from my grandpa. His reply? "You accept that??!" SO now I'm living off my parents and taking ADVANTAGE of my poor, unknowing grandmother. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

I sent him a facebook message that said "your shit is outside my door in a Target bag. I'll be gone all day." He came by, picked it up, and within 2 days had defriended me on facebook. The PINNACLE of maturity.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012


So I haven't been dating recently (as one probably realized due to the complete and utter lack of posting), but I felt the old blog needed a humorous update. Since in 27 (now 26, ah!) days I will be turning 30, what I always determined in my mind would be the "adult" cutoff, I've decided to combine a list of 30 things that only people turning 30 in the last few years would understand.

1. I used to have a VCR where it popped out of the top, you inserted the tape, and you pushed it back down into the machine.

2. I had a portable child's record player complete with a set of Disney music records.

3. BoyzIIMen sang the slow songs at my middle school dances.

4. My idea of fun was playing Sega Genesis for hours on end with the sound off while listening to really old Mariah Carey tapes.

5. Most of my adolescence scrunchies were acceptable hair accessories.

6. I played games on computers at my dad's office that had one color (either green or orange), came on a 5inch floppy disc, and had to use a DOS prompt.

7. Once my mom and I had a conversation about why there were two German flags - one was "good Germany" and one was "bad Germany."

8. My first cassette tapes were Paula Abdul and Janet Jackson.

9. There are pictures of me playing in orange shag carpet as a baby.

10. They had cigarette dispensers (the ones with the knobs) at most restaurants when I was little.

11. My mom tried to teach me how to make a web page in 1994, but you had to use crazy code and I gave up. The only picture I managed to put up was the cover from Dumb and Dumber.

12. Schools didn't have metal detectors or cops or really any security at all.

13. When I was first introduced to Michael Jackson's music, he was still black.

14. My mom would crimp my hair in elementary school. This stopped when she burned me on the ear with the crimper.

15. Banana Republic sold t-shirts out of crates and had a broken down VW in the window.

16. Some of the stuff that Disneyland, Disneyworld, and Epcot have since torn down was still considered futuristic.

17. I couldn't get enough Reading Rainbow.

18. I had a birthday party at a roller skating rink and no one had rollerblades.

19. Mr. T did public service announcements.

20. It was a good day in school when they wheeled in the tv and let us watch 321 Contact, because apparently it was educational.

21. I read all the Babysitters Club books in order.

22. Slap bracelets and Pogs were banned at school, but I can't remember the reasons.

23. I still can sing the theme of Duck Tails.

24. I may or may not have done the Macarena at my 14th birthday.

25. It was cool to get a Hard Rock Cafe shirt wherever you went on vacation to prove you went there.

26. I started watching Saturday Night Live when George Bush I was in office, and got all my political news from it.

27. I thought it was stupid when they added the Florida Marlins and Colorado Rockies. And I still do.

28. I may or may not have gone to an XFiles convention when I was 13.

29. Clear Pepsi tasted weird but I drank it because it looked cool. I also loved the "Crystal Gravy" ad from SNL with Chris Farley.

30. I remember when Elmo joined Sesame Street.