Hi again! I know I haven't written in a while, but I haven't really had time...plus, there's been nothing to write about. So, today, I'm writing about 2 things...one is this weird thought or whatever it is that I keep thinking about, the other is about me I guess. I'm just going to tell about my family life. Ok, so first off with the thought. It's pretty stupid I guess, but the other day my friend Briana and I were driving around downtown trying to find this building. We had to pay attention to all numbered street signs so we wouldn't miss it. While watching the signs, I began thinking. Ok, so here in America when we have a numbered street or whatever it is written as the numerical number with the last two letters of the written word behind it. If anyone is confused so far by what I mean...it's like 37th St. for example, the (th) after the number comes from seven[u]th[/u], and the same with 2nd from seco[u]nd[/u]. So, my thought was, how do people in other countries, or other languages write their numbers? Ok, all I know is German, so I'll give examples of that. Five in German is spelled Funf. So, would 5th St. in Germany be 5nf? Or since Twenty is Zwanzig, would it be 20ig? I am really hung up on this, so if anyone knows the correct way, please let me know so I can get it off my mind. Anyhoo, that was my deep thought for the day! :roll: Ok, onto me and my family I guess. There's really nothing interesting with that. I had a very normal, boring childhood. My parents have been married for almost 27 years now. They almost divorced once about 15 years ago, but they didn't. That had to be the scariest day I can remember. I came home from staying the night with a friend and all my Dad's stuff was packed and he was about to leave. My Mom came to explain to my sister and I how she just wasn't in love with him anymore. After an hour of my sister and I yelling and screaming, they agreed to talk it over one last time. They went to my grandparents and after a few hours decided that they both just needed to put a little more time and effort into the marriage. Apparently it worked, because they have been happy ever since. I hate talking to people about my childhood because I feel so bad that I had a perfect one. Everyone else I know has had at least a few major problems. Whether it's with raising their siblings themselves because their parents were low-lives and just didn't care, or even having to raise themselves without any love or support from family. The only thing I definitely enjoy about being brought up so well is that I know how I want to raise and love my children. I am astounded at some of the stories I've heard about parents who give up, leave, or whatever. It's just so sad. I don't ever want my children to ever feel like they can't come to me about anything or that they aren't loved or something. That's another thing I feel so lucky about with my family, I could always talk to them about anything. I never really did though for a while, I still tried to hide all personal stuff, but somehow they always knew what was going on and I came to realize that no matter how bad I screw up I can always talk to them, and they're always so understanding. Even if they don't agree with what's going on or they way I'm choosing to handle a situation, they have this amazing ability to be able to put themselves in my situation. They can forget about their point of view and at least say that they can see why I chose to do what I did. I love that. Even with them just saying that it always helps me to then see their side of things. Knowing that they are willing to be on my side, makes me willing to be on theirs. I don't really have any regrets about how I was raised at all. I do think that they were a little too over protective of me though at times. I couldn't even watch MTV until I was 16, how retarded is that? But I never really broke any rules or anything. Up until I was 16, I never did anything. I was always sitting at home chillin' with the parents. Then I could drive and I was always gone. That used to upset my mom so bad. I was always her baby, and then once I branched off she couldn't handle it. But I was definitely a goody two shoes, until college. College hit and I wanted to experience everything I never had the opportunity to experience at home. I still didn't get into trouble with authority or anything, but I did get in trouble with myself. That's when I quickly learned that I do not have will power, I caved so fast to every new opportunity that awaited me. And to this day it affects how I now live, good and bad. I am much more open to all kinds of people and experiences, but that gets me in trouble sometimes. I can't seem to say no to anything, especially something I know I have done before. But, since I'm just babbling.......you know, I just realized I didn't really talk about my family much, just mainly me. Oh well!! Ok, so I'm going to add a song today, it's one of my favorites. It's Bitch by Meredith Brooks. I'm not a bitch or anything, not always, but if you get me pissed and then keep pushing my buttons, I can be the biggest bitch, swear to god. Everyone who's seen my true attitude and bitchiness comments that they can't believe all that bitchiness came out of me and they never would've guessed that I could be like that. Now, I'm not proud that I can be like that, but it's something I'm trying to work on. Ok, so have a great day!!
[u]Bitch[/u]
I hate the world today You're so good to me I know but I can't change Tried to tell you But you look at me like maybe I'm an angel underneath Innocent and sweet Yesterday I cried Must have been relieved to see The softer side I can understand how you'd be so confused I don't envy you I'm a little bit of everything All rolled into one
Chorus: I'm a bitch, I'm a lover I'm a child, I'm a mother I'm a sinner, I'm a saint I do not feel ashamed I'm your hell, I'm your dream I'm nothing in between You know you wouldn't want it any other way
So take me as I am This may mean You'll have to be a stronger man Rest assured that When I start to make you nervous And I'm going to extremes Tomorrow I will change And today won't mean a thing
Chorus
Just when you think, you got me figured out The season's already changing I think it's cool, you do what you do And don't try to save me
Chorus
I'm a bitch, I'm a tease I'm a goddess on my knees When you hurt, when you suffer I'm your angel undercover I've been numb, I'm revived Can't say I'm not alive You know I wouldn't want it any other way
Yesterday was my 21st birthday! It was a great day, I was in a great mood all day, that's a first. I bought my first six pack on my way to work yesterday morning at 7:30. I wasn't planning on drinking it then, and I still haven't, I was just doing it because I can. The lady at the register gave me an odd look because it was so early. She checked my ID, but she barely looked at it and didn't even comment on it being my birthday, or at the fact that I barely even look old enough to buy cigarettes. I think she was only looking for the store camera's sake. I've done that before too. When I worked at a grocery store and people that I knew were a few grades younger than me would come to buy cigarettes, I'd ask for an ID, just to show that I asked and looked. No one caught onto my concept though. They would always have an excuse that they didn't have it on them, or they would just go to their car to get it and not come back. I would've sold it to them had they just showed me something, anything. But, that's ok, their loss. But anyway, I was a little disturbed that I didn't get to flaunt my being of legal age to anyone serving alcohol. No one at the bar last night even looked either. That could've been because it was obvious that there was a 21st birthday in progress. I don't know. But that happened on my 18th birthday too. I have been smoking cigarettes since I was 16, but I never chanced buying cigarettes until I was old enough to do so. So I went to get my first pack on my 18th birthday, and the guy didn't card me. That is probably the only time this ever happened. Ever since, I get carded every single time, and half the time they scan my ID for about 2 minutes before finally believing that I am in fact old enough to buy them. It was just disappointing yesterday because I have just been waiting for the time I can go buy alcohol, and get the very questionable look from the cashier, and be asked skeptically to see my ID, just so I could whip it out and shove it in their face. Maybe some other day though. But on with the events of my birthday...I felt like I got so pampered yesterday, I feel bad, but it was nice. First my immediate boss got me a bunch of candy, knowing I am a junk food freak, a bottle of Parrot Bay, and some Dole Pineapple Orange Banana juice to go with it. She didn't even know this, but that kind of OJ is my all time favorite, so I was lovin' it! Then a bunch of co-workers brought food platters for my birthday. They weren't just for me, but for everybody. Thank god for that because considering I am about the pickiest damn eater in the world, I didn't want any of the food. I was too scared to try half of it, and the other half, I just knew I didn't like. There was one thing that a friend brought that had turkey wrapped around cream cheese and mayonnaise, with a pickle in the middle. Just the thought o fit makes me want to hurl. I didn't try it, but that's because I'm afraid I would've gagged, and one that gag reflex is out in motion, there's no stopping it until something comes up. So I passed on that one. But I did get a free lunch yesterday, all thanks to Tom Green. He is the Subway employee that I have mentioned before. It was just my normal sandwich from Subway, but it was free this time, saved me $4.56. Then, one of my good friends bought me some birthday cake ice cream that they sell at this place around my work, it is definitely my new favorite kind if ice cream. It has bits on icing and cake and sprinkles in it. I could go without the sprinkles, but I'll eat it anyway. And on the way back from getting the ice cream, she bought me flowers, how sweet was that? I've never gotten flowers before. Ok wait, I did get a single gas station rose for Valentine's Day last year from my boyfriend at the time, but that's another story. Pissed me off. Anyway...so last night as soon as I got off work I went to the sports bar at the casino. When I got there it was only me and my parents. I started to feel like a big loser. But it was still a great time. My dad and I were sizing up the waitresses, who looked good, and who should not be caught dead in those somewhat skimpy outfits. After a while more people showed up, so I felt like less of a loser. My parents made me open my gifts, which I thought I would feel stupid about, but surprisingly I didn't. My parents just gave me $100 and filled up and decorated the photo album my aunt made me. It's my aunts new kick I guess. It was quilts for a while, but now it's photo albums. I was very pleased with it, it looks awesome. The only downfall was that I am not still in my Precious Moments phase, I was in love with those when I was 8 to 11. But it was yellow and fuzzy, which was cool, with a Precious Moments figurine picture in the middle. Oh well, I still appreciate the effort and thought. My sister's gift was the shit though. I was very scared to open it. She had told me that it's something you play with, and you have turn it on to work it. That set my mind running a few days ago, I had a dream that I opened it and it was this Tonka truck type of thing that you put spokes in the wheels and turn it to get it to run. In my dream I opened it and was very unenthusiastic about it. I didn't want that to happen, especially having to open it in front of everybody. But it turns out that it is an awesome gift. It's called a Bar Master. It's this little hand held thing that had a shit ton of drink and shot recipes in it. You can look up drinks by name, category, occasion, and type of alcohol. It'll give you the recipe and measurements to make them, and even tell you the proper procedure on how to make it perfect. It even has a blood-alcohol level calculator on it. You can out it your weight, number of drinks, and a period of time for those drinks and it'll tell you your average blood-alcohol level. It's supposed to be for entertainment purposes only, so I guess I can't use it to prove to a cop that I'm not trashed if I ever get pulled over. But it came in very handy last night. We kept looking up new shots, and teaching the bartender how to make them. It was bad ass. I didn't get trashed lat night, but I was really drunk and having a blast. Everyone else got smashed though. At one point my sister and I were walking to the bathroom, and she just knocked me off my feet and insisted on wheel-barrowing me to the bathroom. I felt like a tard, but I was drunk, I didn't care. After all the other friends had left we went onto the boat. I think I took $120, including the money from my parents, and I walked out with $150. I was very happy with that. I found out I love the slots, especially when I'm drunk. It's very addicting with those bright colors and clinking noises. I just wanted to keep sitting there hitting the lit up buttons. I did try roulette once as an agreement to a friend. She gave me $5 to put on number 21, I lost, oh well. Anyway, that's the story of my birthday...I had a blast! I wish more friends would've come and partied with me, but they missed out, their loss!
There is this guy that I work with here that I swear has got to be one of the slowest humans on the planet. His job here does not seem to be that difficult either, yet he has so many problems doing it. I will try to explain my dilemma with him the best I can without confusing anyone. Ok, so his job is to go to the one of our county recorders office and record documents and get copies for us. I give him a set of blank checks to do this. In my eyes, all he has to do is record, get copies, total them up, and give me back a check stub with the breakdown of the charges. Does that seem hard? Maybe it does, I don't know. But he just can't seem to do this. He is supposed to get me back a receipt within at least a few days, but no, it takes him about a month. And then, it's all screwed up. The checks are clearing our bank accounts for totally different amounts than he tells me, and the totals of the items he's recorded or copied barely match up to the check stub he gives back. What the hell?? So I have to spend my time going back over all his stuff and fixing it. There are many more problems that he causes me that I would like to bitch about, but it's too confusing for me to try to explain. Anyway, and the biggest thing about him....he smells so HORRIBLE!! I don't know what it is that is seeping out of his nasty pores, but it's fucking disgusting. You can tell he's in the office as soon as you get anywhere near his area. It's definitely a gut wrenching, tear-jerking smell. Some have described it as garlic, others think of it as pee...I don't really care what it is, I don't think I would even want to know. All I know is, it's definitely something horrid, and no manager or boss will do a thing about it. They think it'd be rude to say something, I think not. I think it's something that should definitely be said to him because it is disrupting everybody else. Nobody wants to walk by him or anything because it's such a putrid, gag-reflexing smell. Anyway, so that's all about this guy, I just had to vent before I yelled at him again!
