More Thoughts on Food as I Eat Food

-When you're a child, your parent forces you to finish your vegetables because "they're good for you".
-When you're an adult you buy vegetables because they're "good for you" but YOU force yourself to eat them before they rot because they cost money and you already bought the next batch.
#MaybeItsJustMe
- I'm trying to finish celery and baby carrots (with hummus). Just bought a cucumber, green pepper, corn on the cob. Sometimes I bore myself. But I limit cooking, so this is what I get.
- I'm more fruity than veggie. I'm more sweet than salty, but yeah, I keep a balance.

Lunch as a Spectator Sport

Here is the notice I posted yesterday to my social network chums about my lunch:

Tragic, yet tasty.

Here are my thoughts today.

Day 2 of eating a salad composed of "stuff in my fridge that I eat so it doesn't rot and I don't starve". Again: Spinach Leaves, sliced tomato, Persian cucumber, and strawberries. A co-worker walked around in the break room, studying my salad from every angle like it was some unknown creature break-dancing on the countertop. She asked me what kind of dressing I put on it. I said none and she conceded: "Oh just the juices from the tomato, huh?" Uh... sure. (it is kinda slimy, so I suppose that's kind of a dressing.)

1) Just b/c I eat healthy (sometimes) doesn't mean that's why I'm small. I'm small because of genetics and metabolism. Don't hate me for my size and don't congratulate me on 'eating so well'. I have a huge pack of ramen on standby. It is what it is. Some people live to eat. I usually eat so my blood sugar doesn't drop and I don't start shaking like a salt shaker all over the place.
2) I am not a health guru, so no need to take notes from my meals. Even when I throw out convincing phrases like "the sweetness of the strawberries counteracts the bitter spinach leaves".
3) If I have a salad composed of things that grow in nature, it's not necessary to throw 'dressing' on it. I'm not even sure what dressing really is and plus, I have 4 food items in my salad. That's a lot of flavor on its own... why throw processed gunk in there?
4) Why does eating at work have to be so complicated? Everyone comments on your lunch like they are commenting on the weather. I just wanna eat so I don't die, yo. And then I'm gonna go out in whatever weather we've got today, not caring what the meteorologists say will happen later this week. I know these topics are deemed "safe", but they get rather trite. I DO remember once truthfully answering "not good" when asked how a recent holiday had gone. MWAHAHAHAHA The next time they asked, they remembered to really give a crap about the answer ;)

My Morning Brain is a Wasteland of EVIL

(First post in over a year? I know I had some funny thoughts in 2012... Didn't I?)

Sometimes, I realize how terrible my brain can be in the morning and it's a good thing I live by myself or I could be doing some serious damage to my relationships. I think part of the problem is in order to prevent myself from hitting the snooze button and curling back into bed, I try to engage my brain by reading Facebook posts on my phone. BAD IDEA. WORST IDEA EVER.

My Morning Brain hates life, humanity and everything involved in having an opinion that is stupid, wrong or ill-informed. My Morning Brain hates anyone who expresses anything remotely positive or happy go lucky. My Morning Brain will kill you all. It probably doesn't help that I'm ill and I'm sure this affects my Morning Brain slightly.

But here is an alteration to Psalm 23 to let you know how much my Morning Brain hates life:

The Bed is my Safe Place; I shall not leave.
Bed maketh me to lie down in comfy sheets:
Bed leadeth me to have crazy-ass dreams.
Bed restoreth my soul:
Bed leadeth me in the paths of sleepiness for Bed name' sake.

Yea, when I wake I'm the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For evil art with me;
With rod and my staff, I'll beat you down.
Friends posteth stupid shit on facebook and thus becometh mine enemies;
Facebook was a bad idea; It's Mahjong from now on.

Surely sleeptime and dreams shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in my House in my Bed forever.
AMEN.

Quick Bits

1) I dreamt about the devil last night. Hate when that happens. Maybe I shouldn't have gone to bed so early. That's all I can blame it on, since I didn't have any booze before bed. Although I did have liquid Mucinex.

2) I'm thrilled. My younger brother will now be keeping a blog. Not only does he live across the hall AND I can see his facebook updates, I can now read his mind... er... blog. MWAHAHAHHAHAHA

3) Festivus is soon!

4) I'd write more but I'm in an invisible unofficial competition to make my co-worker look bad. Well, she does that all on her own performance wise, but I want to make it more evident to the management that mistakenly hired her and kept her around. HUZZAH!

Silly Moments in My Life

The other night, I was dreaming about drag queens giving etiquette classes and Native Amercians overposting on facebook about the End of the World, when I was awoken by the doorbell. I woke up and since I didn't hear my parents stirring in their room, I pretended that it was imagined or that it was just someone looking for trouble. The doorbell rang again and I wondered if it was my younger brother. My mom is convinced that Friday is the night he stays at a friend's house, so she locked the deadbolt and set the alarm. I looked at my cell phone to see if he might have texted me. 2:08 am. And right then he called. So I groggily told him to stop yapping at me about our mom locking him out of the house. I turned off the alarm and unlocked the door.... so that my brother, dressed as Speed Racer could come into the house. Yes, that's right. My dreams of drag queens and the end of the world were interrupted so that I could let Speed Racer into the house.

This is my life, in what my brother has dubbed "Childhood 2.0" in which a 26 year old gal comes home to live with her 20 year old brother and drive their parents crazy with burping, farting and loads of inappropriate jokes. I do enjoy this phase of my life because although my parents are disgusted with our behavior, they can't really ground me... I already spend ALL of my home time in my room, so I have kind of grounded myself. And I happen to be reading these awesome books in as series for teenage girls, Confessions of Georgia Nicolson, by Louise Rennison. I know I'm not 14 but these books AND living at home help me travel back to being a whiny, self-absorbed girl living at home. And I like it! Although I would like it more perhaps if my British accent were more authentic but I do get loads of practice!

If I had any other stories to share, I would, but my parents get kind of weird about this whole internet thing. Because what I find to be hilarious, they deem inappropriate. My mom said our behavior was unbecoming of 'a young man and a young lady' which made my brother and I laugh. I'm pretty sure we weren't brought to this world to act 'appropriately'. Which may or may not mean that we are aliens. ;)

Norwegian Troll and Community

For those of you who know me, you will know I am in love with the show Community, now on Season 3 on the telly. For those of you who watch it as religiously as I, you also know that it recently aired the most clever episode ever: Remedial Chaos Theory, airdate 10/13/2011... available for a limited time here.

I will now proceed to spoil the episode for those of you that haven't seen it, complete with screenshots of the Traditional Norwegian Troll and the chaos it induces. Let's just say, I created a bunch of screenshots and plastered them all over my dear unsuspecting friend's facebook wall on a Friday night when she wouldn't see it coming. In fact, she may still not know as I have yet to hear from her. Either that or she is no longer my friend. Or maybe the troll got her. But anyway, here are the screenshots to share with you!

P.S. I think this episode may have been more clever than the paintball episodes and I loved those mucho. Okays, enjoy!!

The Traditional Norwegian Troll is introduced

Jeff Winger, confused by said Traditional Norwegian Troll

Pierce taunting Troy with the troll

Pierce keeping Troy at bay with the Troy while Abed watches

The Chaos....

....caused by the troll

The very evil Traditional Norwegian Troll

Traditional Norwegian Troll wants to play video games

Evil Abed (as opposed to generally altruistic Abed)

Evil Troy and Evil Abed (notice Troy's voicebox)

Evil Troy and Evil Abed handshake

 Okay, so I hope you enjoy the pictures, which you might, even if you are clueless but which you most definitely will if you are a fan of the show.


While you are here, please feel free to read other blog entries AND check out my other blogs that have to do with travel, movies and living a childfree life! (which consequently leaves more time for blogging about said topics!) ;) Peace!

Adventures of a White Girl in North O

Every city has 'that part' of town where the white middle class and upper crust dare not tread, especially after dark. In my town, that's North O.

Up until getting a part time job at a community college in North O a few years ago, the most I'd been was a few trips during high school. One was for a classmate's mother's funeral (during the day time and at a Church: no problems), to get some corn rows put in by a classmate for prom (I got hopelessly lost and had to wait in my car at a gas station for her to come drive and find me) and I believe for that same friend's graduation party (where my car-companion insisted we lock the doors and roll up the windows, which made me roll my eyes).

Truthfully, anytime I have to drive through North O, or be outside of my car, say at a gas station, it's accompanied by the false bravado and swagger that is supposed to ward off unwanted interactions with people that could kick my butt with merely a glance. My body language is trying to say "Yeah, I may look like a chickenshit little white girl, but don't you mess with me cuz I'm hood, yo, and I don't take crap from no one!"

Actually this shirt would be great! ;)

I know I'm not fooling anyone (especially not in my VW) and I might as well wear a shirt that says, "I know I don't belong here, but I won't be here for long!" And I generally am not there for long. The community college at which I work is two blocks off the Interstate so I usually get in and get out without much problem.

Sure there was one time early Saturday morning when I had to take a detour on my way to work because somebody shot someone else from their car at a red light. Seriously? Nothing better to do at 6:30 a.m on a Saturday? Like sleeping?! That was a sucky start to someone's Saturday!

And I sometimes have to take a long drive down 30th street to get to Downtown or Dundee for whatever reason. So, I usually just drive the speed limit and be like 'What'.

That is NOT me. This is her But we both be like 'What.'

So yesterday, minutes before I would get off the Interstate to work in North O, my gas light buzzed at me. Aw, shit. And I had thought I'd have enough juice to make it to work and home. Well, I sure as hell was NOT gonna wait till after work and try to pump gas in North O at night! I may walk with false bravado during the day but I'm not stupid enough to set foot outside of my car at night! (This actually applies to any part of town... I try to not go to grocery stores or anywhere at night anymore. Let's pretend it's because of vampires more-so than the aimless gun-toting youth of the world.)

Okay, I knew where a gas station close to campus is and I've filled up there before. I ended up having to wait for someone else to move before I could back my car into the spot, all professional like. Damn, they changed it to pre-pay inside the store only? I guess even the people in North O don't trust each other. I grab my purse and start to head into the store, but dammit it's 5 people deep at the register. Shit, I don't have time for this. (1- I gotta be at work and 2-The more time I spend in North O, the longer I have to keep up my false bravado and pray no one hassles me... true story.)

So I drive around the block, hoping to find a gas station that isn't pre-pay. I end up at the gas station across the street from the first one and of course, it's pre-pay. Truth be told, the pre-pay thing scares me just as much as being in North O because I've never had to pre-pay. Foreign concept.

So I decide, fine, I'll just put $10 in the tank which is only 2 gallons, but a) I don't have so much time and b) it would look presumptuous/bad strategy of me to be like "Forty dollars on Pump #4. Oh yes, I have plenty of money. You want some?"

Yes, just take what you need. Actually I don't carry cash in my wallet much, unless you count the 100 Rupees, which is like $2 USD. True story.

So, yet again, I grab my stuff. As I go inside, a big black guy (with boobs slightly larger than mine) gets out of his suburban parked in front of the door and we make eye contact. I don't remember who said hi first, but he let me get to the door first and I held it open for him. I went to the register at the left and he wandered elsewhere in the store saying "That girl has some manners." I laughed and replied, "I try." Then he said something about coming around to see him if I'm ever in the area. Great, do I have 'tease the whitey' tattooed on my forehead?! (Actually, I think I might. This kinda stuff happens a lot.)

I laughed nervously and tried to make it closer to the counter where the cashier was helping someone. He looked up at me and laughed at the guy. The patron being helped looked at me funny for standing right next to him. He left and I got to the counter and ordered $10 for pump four and gave my card to Mr Cashier with the long Coke Nails. Eeeks!

Not the actual cashier, nor an accurate representation of the nails, but you have no idea how hard (or disturbing) it is to Google image search this! Most of the images are for some nail polish named 'Cracked'. Sigh.

Now, Cokey the Cashier looked like he swiped my card twice and I'm praying that it was because the first swipe didn't go through, not because he decided to use a card reader on me. (right before I left the house, my mom had just had a fraud-scare with my grandma's card, but it was just my uncle accidentally using it, so I had fraud on the brain) Cokey gave me a copy to sign and another receipt to keep. The copy I signed seemed thick, so I wasn't sure if it was a carbon copy, but no, so I mumbled something about it and figured it out and left. Yeah, acting crazy is usually a good way to avoid conflict.

So, back to my car to fill up until I reached my $10 limit and I was on my way to work. I successfully made it through my first gas station pre-pay transaction in a 'scary' part of town and interacted with coke-heads and big-breasted black men who liked my good manners.

Is this too much? ;0)

I'm sorry to disappoint if you were hoping for a bigger North O adventure, but my frail little heart can only take so much. I do hope that's as exciting as I get to experience. And I hope my new friends are having a good day, crack not included.

Nuff said.

*Disclaimer: If any of you are offended that I didn't show North O in a more positive light... uh, I didn't show it in a negative light either. I just told what happened... which honestly wasn't much beyond a semi-scared little white girl in a place she's not used to. Same would happen here:

No joke. Wall Street scares me shitless. My 401k is doing what?! I don't get it!