Reminder 1: Facebook

Okay, on the subject of Facebook. I am not on any more and have slightly thought about starting it back up again. 

I remember (old man story here) when Facecbook started. It was a hot July summer for me in a small college town with nothing to do at work that I first signed on. “Everyone is doing it.” And indeed they were. So, I jumped on and started posting pictures, writing on people’s walls, making new friends from all over and loving it. I don’t think I was ever NOT on it. I probably got in trouble at work a handful of times, but whatever. I was talking to friends from high school, elementary school and college. 

I remember when it started to go bad. I was still dating Anna and this was a source of us connecting and (in a way) stalking one another. Okay, it was me stalking her, but she cheated first and I was always worried she would do it again (which she did twice). I won’t go into all the details because a) they’re embarrassing and b) too stupid to even try remembering. Long story short, her ex used this as a way to harass me. We weren’t friends and Facebook hadn’t yet made the safety feature where you can’t search or even see someone yet, so she would send me messages. Mean, name calling messages about a bunch of crap that I thankfully can’t really remember. So I quit. 

Just like that I quit Facebook. I didn’t need a patch or a support group (though one for my disasterous relationship would have been nice). I had anger and bitterness to keep me long pulled away. I think the last time I really had a Facebook account was December of, of, well I don’t know. 

Anyways, I’ve tried getting back into because, yet again, “everyone is doing it” and want to stay connected to my friends. Some of my friends only do invitations and upload pictures there, some just stay in constant contact where I would have to email, call or whatever. 

This Saturday, even, I logged in and reactivated my account. As I put my picture up and started to fill out the fields of “How Are You” and “What Do You Like” (not actual title names, I know) I realized I didn’t want any information in them. I went through each category and just didn’t want to fill them out. 1.) It feel like college again 2.) If I was just trying to connect to my friends, did they really need to know about my love for coffee and Matt Damon movies? 3.) What would I do with my “‘other” accounts? 

I have worked very hard to keep my name a secret. I’ve shared an actual photo of myself and have gone so far as to share my location in the US, but what would I do with my Twitter, Tumblr, Last.FM and blog account? The same face linked them all, but I loved my secret name more. I like that I have control over what the Internets know about me and what they don’t. On Facebook I felt exposed. 

All that to say I didn’t do it. The final straw was when it looked for people with in my email account and my Grammy and several Aunts were on there. I knew I would never be able to let them know I was on there because then they would want to be my friend. When I would say “no” it would hurt their feelings. So when I then said “okay” they would discover that not only am I a tequila drinking fool who cusses like a sailor sometimes, but that I’m bi. Is that how they should find out? I didn’t think so either. Perhaps it would be easier, but at this point I’m okay with my family being distant from this truth. My parents and I have hardly a relationship because of it and I’m just not willing to fight that one yet. 

So for now, the battle with Facebook is out. Maybe when they stop letting in old lady’s and moms I’ll jump on board, but then again maybe I won’t. So, it’s all yours moms and grandmas. Enjoy!

Remind Me…

Remind me to post blogs about:
-Funny things my mom says.
-Funny things my brother says.
-The new fingernail color of the month for February.
-Facebook, the dreaded source of all my past drama. (see here)

“Don’t You Do It…”

That’s what I typically yell at my dogs when they start doing the potty-sniff dance. I also yell that when they’re too close to my plate, my cup, my bed and socks laying on the ground.

It’s freezing this morning and I’m skipping school. I know it’s only the second week of school, but our teacher isn’t going to be there and we were only doing lab that we will also be doing tomorrow for two hours. Not worried.

I have a hard time not keeping the doors cracked a little to let in the cool breeze because, well it feel electric outside. I don’t know why, but it does. I think my mood is better improved from this week because today was the first morning that I actually woke up before my alarm. Which means that I was fully rested. I haven’t been “fully rested” in a long, long time. No matter how much I use to sleep in or go to bed early I never felt fully rested. It was the best gift ever.

Today is the day of studying and homework. I have all day to do my workbook, lab book and read. I’m not turning the TV until later tonight for movie fun with Ams (Amy). The rooommate is out of town and I have full run of the house. It’s not that I don’t like Kristin here at all, but that it’s nice every now and then to have the space to yourself. I’m sure she feels the same way when I’m in class on the weekends.

AND even though it freezing cold outside I’m thinking I need to start looking for a bicycle. I need one to help get me around town for simple stuff. Instead of plugging up the world with my  car’s exhaust, I thought I would loose a few pounds running to Blockbuster and Starbucks for being green. I would love to a) buy a Vespa or b) an Electra bike, but seeing how I’m not 100% sure how this whole thing is going to plan out, I need to keep it cheap and easy. I saw this girl one time riding a, what I thought was a Cruiser, bike she picked up from Academy for $50. I can do that. Plus, it would help me out if I rode my bike into class on the weekends, rather than pay $5 every Saturday to park downtown.

I want to buy a bike from Craigslist, but how do I know if that person is selling me a rusted piece of junk or a broken bike? I know nothing, really, about bikes and I fear getting more than I asked for. Anyone have any good advice how to go about this?

“Seven Things”…It’s Like a Disease but Better

So, there’s this “Seven Things” thing going around and I couldn’t help but play along. Reader Note: I stole this from The Slack Daily.

Here are the rules:

• Link to your original tagger(s) and list these rules in your post.
• Share seven facts about yourself in the post.
• Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.
• Let them know they’ve been tagged.
   

1. I haven’t been able to taste milk properly lately. Once, some time during the work day, I bought milk and left it in the car. Because the temperature was below freezing, I thought it would be okay. I get it home, take a big drink and it tastes bad. So I pour the whole carton out. I buy another, to-date milk carton, take it home and take a big gulp. With this taste, I thought the milk was spoiled, too. I had Amy taste it and she said it tasted fine. So, I’ve been drinking milk for the past couple of weeks while it tastes spoiled to me and fine to everyone else. What’s up with that?
    
2. I’m pre-partying at my house tomorrow before friends birthday party at Whirly Ball Land. I’m horribly broke but am deserving of a good time, so I’m going to drink the rest of my gin before the Whirly Ball adventure. The only skill will be getting the right amount of gin to where I don’t get sick whirling around. I don’t really like to pre-party with out the party. I’ve never been one to drink alone or with the casual meal. Drinking is second to eating cake (or anything sweet) for me. Some times I would rather ingest my calories in sugary foods rather than alcohol. I guess that makes me not a very typical 25-year old. 
    
3. Since I’ve been working out and eating better my weight has dropped big time. About a little over a year ago I was able to wear (very comfortably) my size four pants. It was great, but then I stopped working out and ate cake every day. On Monday I was wearing my size four pants. Today, though I kind of can’t breath, I’m wearing my little black jumper that I haven’t been able to wear ever. Very nice. 
    
4. I’m addicted to Whole Foods. Maybe that’s not new to anyone who reads my blog, but it’s new to me. I seriously can’t go to the regular grocery store anymore. It’s not that I’m too good for Velveeta or Blue Bell, but that I want to ingest better ingredients. Fructose, take a hike. Things made from gell (like Miracle Whip) are no longer welcomed in my kitchen. I’m so dedicated to this that it’s making me a snob. Not in the sense that “I have more money than you” because really it cost about the same, but in the sense that “I know I just ran out of mayonnaise and you’re offering me your Hellman’s, but it’s not organic and contains something called “gell” and I would just rather not.” I think my roommate wants to kill me. 
    
5. Once, before I realized I was bi enough to mean it, I told two straight girls that “I just wanted to introduce myself in case we ever had intercourse.” Yeah, that was embarrassing. I’m sure I’ve posted about it some where on here because it’s my best embarrassing story, but I don’t know where enough to link it back. I was in high school at band camp (don’t think “American Pie”). We shared a dorm with two other girls and I said it before I could take it back in my mind. Had it been 1920 I might have gotten away with it, but being that it was 1998 I was caught telling two straight girls I DID NOT know “I thought you should know my name before we have sex…you know…as to be at least SOME WHAT familiar before we bumped uglies.” Thankfully, I never heard that story get back to me so I think I was safe or maybe just the whole color guard thought I was gay. Who knows. 
    
6. In sixth grade I belonged to a club called “The Beatlettes”. There were five of us, like the group, and we were each “married” to one of the Beatles (don’t tell Yoko). I was lucky enough to get Ringo. Yeah, I think I was so absorbed in the idea of surrounding myself with Beatles stuff that I didn’t care I got the only one thrown down the ugly tree. He was a drummer so I never really complained. About sixth grade the Anthology came out and I was obsessed. I had shirts, albums (that are now some where else because I wasn’t smart enough to save them), a framed poster (still have that one), CDs and a million other little things with them on it. I watched the movies and listened to the music. I even wrote in my sixth grade diary “Dear Ringo”. Man, I was crazy. I was also a hippie.

   I would draw peace signs to dot my “i”, which took forever. I went around saying “stay sugar free” because let’s face it, to be a hippie means drugs, sex and rock and roll. I had none of those down except rock and roll. 

   I remember one time we had a séance to bring John Lennon back from the grave (again, don’t tell Yoko). Being raised in a very strong Christian household I was the one who damaged the group’s results because, off the bat, I didn’t believe. So, to make up for my short coming, I pretending to see his ghost. Maybe I was trying out my acting skills, maybe I was just wanting the attention, but I pulled it off really well. It was good enough that my friends stopped the whole thing as soon as I said, “there he is…in the corner.” Very quickly the candle were blown out and lights turned back on.
    

7. I’ve always wanted to go to a nude beach. Preferably one that is in Italy or France because then I wouldn’t know if people were talking about my naked ugliness and I would probably look alright next to some people that would frequent the beach. I don’t know if I would go full naked, but rather just topless. Sure, that’s more dangerous in the sun, but I don’t think I’m up for bush exposure. I’ve never been skinny-dipping or streaked across anything. It was talked about, as a senior right, to streak across the football field, but I chickened out. I don’t really like changing in front of people at the gym, so why I would have no problem exposing my naked side in front of hundreds of people is weird to me. I think the feeling of the warm sun would be nice and after a while, once you’ve seen theirs and they’ve seen yours you don’t even care anymore.

 

 

Okay, that’s my “Seven Things” you didn’t know about me. I’m going to aimlessly tag people down here whose blogs I read. I’m also not going to tell them because that’s extra work. If you are tagged and come back to this blog, know that I read your blog regularly and really like it. 

The Other Mother 

Sarcomical

The Everyday Adventures of Me in the City

Not Always Right

The Satorialist

Ads of the World

And because I just started reading this blog I add: The Slack Daily

“I Love You More Than ______”

Amy shared this website with me and I’m now addicted. They just moved their site to http://iloveyoumorethanblank.com/

I love reading some of these because I completely associate with them. Someone really loves their pink Dyson (mine’s yellow), their pets, their favorite Starbucks drink and some their favorite ice cream. 

When I first saw this I had a gut reaction to submit something and the posted it! If you go to the link it’s the very last heart on the very last page. In short, here it is.

I didn’t say this because of a particular person (though that could be part of it), but rather I’ve been reading several posts lately about the LGBT marriages in California and just felt it appropriate.

The Mouse Is Playing

Okay, so the boss is away and I (being the mouse) am playing. Actually, I’m the only one representing the department here and do have plenty to do, but I think I need a mental dump break. (<- Haha…I said “dump”)

Lately, or should I say just this month, I’ve been hit with ridiculous bills. Every bill has been (no kidding) $200 for the month January. I own part of a pet deposit, school, cell phone bill, cable/Internet, energy and credit cards. Ugh…I so hate money. I’m a little worried that I’m going to be living off fumes for the next couple of days. I’m half tempted to get ANOTHER credit card to help support the weight, but that just screams trouble for me. Me, who in college managed to max out THREE credit cards and had to live at home with Mom and Dad to pay some of that off. Yeah, not a good idea. 

I’ve been so blessed these last couple of weeks to be working out. I’ve been working out like crazy. Not because I think I’m fat, but because I’ve gotten the taste for it again. Back in June of last year when I paid for a full year’s gym membership I thought “I will get into again” and nothing happened until I moved. Having a roommate really helps the working out. She’ll go and I’ll go. If I don’t then I have to answer to someone who lives one room over. Now, I love it. The cycling class I took this morning kicked my ass but I’m glad it did. It’s now down hill for me in working out. I have yoga tomorrow during lunch and then nothing (unless I want to) until Monday. I might lift weights this weekend after class.

Ah…class. Yes, I start my second degree climb this weekend. I’m finally putting that one foot forward and am just getting it started. I have a weekend class from 9-1 p.m. on Saturdays and Sunday until about May, I think. No more sleeping in, but hello future. I’m nervous. It’s a community college and not that I’m “too cool for school” or anything, but I don’t know what to expect with the students. Will they want to be there? Will they be equally excited about what this class means for them as I will? Will I have a lab partner? Will the teacher be dry and boring? 

I haven’t been to school (college school) in three years now. Three years is a long time to forget things that seemed so natural while you were in it. Parking, textbooks (which have sucked me dry), supplies, backpacks (I don’t have one so I guess I’ll just use a BIG bag) and everything else school. I can’t believe I’m a college student again. Does that mean I am a “student” at movie theaters again? Oh I could go to Apple and get a college discount. I won’t because I’m broke, but I could and that’s the cool part. 

I’ll have to keep you posted, those who are interested, in how it goes.

Design Funk

I hate it when I hit a design funk at work. I’ll stare at the computer, I’ll research ideas, I’ll doodle and nothing. I always feel handicapped to do my job when that happens. No, I’m not a designer, but I feel like the only contribution I have to this job is to push the limits. Because I’m not afraid to be different, I want to make sure each piece I do is equally different and equally out there from what is currently being produced in our office. I not only want to challenge myself to be better at design but encourage my coworkers to do the same. Well, that is they wanted to.

For the past two days I’ve come into work all sunshine and roses only to be smacked in the face with “don’t talk to me” and “I don’t care” attitudes. This is so not my scene.

I’m alright with quite or keeping to yourself at work, at least for other people. Each day I walk in here happy and awake only to be silenced and pushed in my corner I realize this is not my place. I also get that feeling in many other areas, but we won’t go there today.

The good news I’m still beaming from is that I’m enrolled in a county college starting my prerequisites; slowly, but surely. I’ve enrolled in Anatomy and Physiology. I never seem confident to say that last word. Every time I pronounce it, I get it backwards and forwards.

I’m excited about starting towards my ultimate goal: becoming a nurse. Though I may be going about it slowly, I’m going about it. The class is on the weekends, so there goes my late nights, but I don’t care. I’m enjoying the pace that my life running at these days. Between the gym, work, school, friends, meetings, volunteering, etc., I’m finding my life to finally feel in control.

I’m loving more than anything right now that I”m working out. My body is sore from pulling, running, lifting, cycling and what else I continue to do. I’m not trying to loose weight or anything (though I am), but am trying to tone up. I’m tired of being a weakling with no energy to run back and forth on a basketball court. I want to be able to keep up with the athletic Jones’ and also make my heart happier. This morning, while in cycling class, I was praising God that I have the ability to work out. It feels so good to expel the energy and work your muscles. To breath in and feel the health. Love it.

I also love what working out places my mind. I’m less likely to want to drink oodles and eat everything deep fried. I’m more conscious about feeding my body healthy things to help it burn right and keep burning.

…Some how I need to focus on my design, but I just can’t see the direction I’m wanting to go with it. Oh, well…back to the drawing board as they say.

Lunch Date

Today, I had my second lunch date with my mother since she’s been seeing a doctor near my neck of the woods. The first time we had lunch it was in December so we were light and happy. Today, started out similar, but took a different course all together. 

How it happened, I don’t know. I know it was God arranged because it was too easy and I didn’t loose my cool to drop it. We talked for short minutes on how being bi, her not liking it (“hoping it’s a phase”), being democrat versus republican, with a little pro-life until we both admitted that at this time neither of us would be able to have the relationship we’re wanting for a while. She said, “this is where you’re learning to be your own person and I’m learning to let go that you don’t think like me.” 

Sometimes, when my mom and I have lunches, it’s my goal to finish the afternoon on a note that sums up a lesson we learned. Why there has to be a lesson? Because my mom and I don’t share the same ideas and ever since I came out, there’s always a lesson. But, today it was not the case. I kept trying to pull her back into what the point of everything I was say meant, but it never got there. 

I’m not even quite sure how to accurately judge today’s meeting. I feel down just because it was a conversation I hate having to have and she said some things about my dad that made me mad (not at her, but at him). 

I feel like in my own person, as wrong as I sometimes am, I am okay with my relationship with God, because in fact it IS my relationship with Him. I love that my mom is passionate about her’s, but I expressed how I wasn’t agreeing with her. I don’t know…

I don’t really have any other words, so I’m just going to leave it at that. My Friday is still going great, though. So, that’s good.

Money, Take Me Dancing!

I feel slightly, okay really out of control with the amount of money…er…credit I’m spending lately. I’m going to be honest here, so please don’t give me the “parental lesson” about money in our economy right now. Take my honesty as my personal awareness in how wrong my actions are and that I’m working towards correcting the problem. Well, after I buy that thing of make-up and those pair of shoes.

See, that’s my problem. I’m living in this “I’ll stop once I get this because this is what I need.” I know that material things are not nearly as important as those around you and your spiritual connection with God, but it seems that my mind and actions have been doing the opposite.

I really want to teach myself the good responsibilities of saving money, spending when I actually have (rather than living off the credit of my wants) and not letting money control me. “Controlling me”…ugh, I hate that, but it’s so true right now.

I found myself last week talking about it like it was the best thing ever. I don’t remember the conversation, how we got there or even why we stayed there except for the fact that we were all in love with how having nice things made us feel valuable. It made my stomach sick when all the words were thrown out there like messy mounds of grease knowing how hard it would be to sweep it up and there to be no residue left. I felt as if I had sold my soul to a greed and frivolous thing that would leave me groveling in the streets easily once it ran out.

I can’t help but feel ashamed of my attitude, my actions and thoughts towards our economy. People around me are losing their jobs, applying for unemployment and borrowing money from family to make it through. Yet, here I sit looking forward to putting more money on my credit card.

I write all this because I’m trying to open my eyes to the necessity of my choices, but I still can’t help but want to shop. I know it goes back further than just the desire to fill my closet, but that it’s my coping mechanism. I like to cope when I’m scared, tired, happy, sad, worried, excited and every other emotion possible. It also doesn’t help that my roommate is the same way and in many ways we cripple each other.

One thing I really don’t like is celebrities. Not the people themselves (though some of them don’t leave much to be desired) but, rather, the lifestyle. The successful careers rendering them more money than needed and the spending that makes many jealous and want to emulate. I don’t like to know what their doing, who their wearing or what they think. I would much rather exist in my little world as I move and work. I don’t want to go to LA or NY to see where they live or buy the same shoes I saw her wear in that movie. But, some how I’ve allowed myself to walk into it. I would like to blame my roommate for this because of all the magazines she buys (People, Marie Clair, Lucky, Allure…), the Extra she watches and the conversations we seem to have about them. Must break away, really. I’ve given up the magazines like People or InStyle that focus solely on who their wearing what they use to clean their face with. When I find myself looking at their lives I also find that I start to live more like them. Then I spend money and buy into the whole “label is more important than quality” type of thing.

Now, I do have to clarify that I am a brand-loyal person. When brand and quality join together I’m all for it. But I don’t need Chanel or Juicy for the name.

Anyways, I am trying to stop spending money like I am. I know I could gain control if I would exercise my mind around God and those I’m with. I keep thinking that if I can get to this point I would be able to be free of bills, but the honest truth is we’re never free of bills; we just learn to work them into our lives and try not to let them control us. Right…

Jolly Ranchers

Today, I ran a quick errand to Albertsons and picked up some Jolly Ranchers. I was in the mood for something sweet but didn’t want to eat my weight in chocolate (because that’s all I can really do when eating chocolate). I picked up Smoothie kind and some passion fruit kind. The smoothie kind is like their response to Cream Savers, but worse. It’s like half way through it begins to taste like a vitamin. Not okay.