‘Twas the Summer of 2013, and All Was Shaky

These are some of my newly acquired (and other) hobbies:

  • Collecting coins
  • Shopping on eBay
  • Hesitantly adding people I know on Facebook
  • Watching movies
  • Reading
  • Writing (a little)
  • Playing The Sims on my phone
  • Running from bees, wasps, and other scary things

I collect not only coins, but bills too (to my mother’s dismay). That’s mainly what I do on eBay: shop for dirt-cheap coins and bills. My job gives me the wonderful opportunity of stumbling upon old bills and coins through tips. Speaking of work, I love my job though it has its downs. My coworkers are a step down from the personality clashes I see on the show, L.A. Hair. It’s entertaining just to watch.
The best way to find out what I’ve seen lately, is by checking out my ratings history on IMDb (though a lot of times I go through and rate old movies I’ve seen and have forgotten to rate). I have Redbox release dates on all my calendars and frequently browse YouTube for any free, full-length movies worth watching.

I think my generation caught the social media thing towards the end after graduating. I feel kind of old now when it comes to social media. All these new things are popping out out of the blue like every week, and it’s just exhausting. Keeping up with Johnny Depp is already exhausting (he’s currently promoting his latest movie, The Lone Ranger, and filming Transcendence when he’s not doing that, and who knows what else – very busy man). So first I did YouTube (I think), then Twitter, THEN Facebook (back and forth), then Formspring or whatever, then Google+, then Pinterest, then Instagram, then…etc. You see what I mean? I mean I know I don’t have to sign up for all of it, but it all looks interesting. Besides, that’s all I use my smartphone for anyway – to connect to social media, and play addicting games (The Sims FreePlay, iMobsters, and more).

My room is once again a mess. The floor is covered with ripped-open packages everywhere (I’ve been ordering a lot of stuff online) and clothes that I’ve been hoping my cat won’t urinate on before I can get them up off the floor. My closet isn’t any better.

My boss is a funny one. He loves keeping busy (no matter how hectic things get, he always has a goofy grin on his face). Lately I’ve been spotting a ton of spiders here and there. So here I’m constantly thinking of Spider-Man and brown recluses and trying to remain calm enough to not look like a complete idiot in public. The other day while I was working, I saw a transparent spider slowly hang down from the ceiling, suspended by its web. Its movement reminded me of Charlotte’s Web. I backed up and pointed out this spider to my co-workers; we had our boss come and deal with it. You know how he dealt with it? He took his hand and caught the web from the top, then proceeded to swing it around a little (with a goofy grin and the satisfaction of scaring us girls) before he dropped it onto the floor and mushed it with his shoe. I was watching closely the whole time and wasn’t sure he got it after it dropped to the floor, so I was hesitantly searching the ground for this transparent spider, when my boss pointed to where I was standing and said “There it is!”. I jumped up almost onto the counter, freaked out. He went back to work laughing at his joke.

My mom is once again heavily into graduate school. She’s studying for her MFA in Creative Writing. Just one more year and possible two more residencies to go. I’ll be honest, I’m sick of driving/riding through the country. I want to be somewhere that is permanent and comfortable. In a year, after she graduates, we’re moving back to Texas but who knows.
I guess I’ve finally decided on what to study in college: Film. I don’t want to be a director or actor, I just want to study Film and go from there. Twenty-years-old and I just realized this. Well, it could be worse I guess.

The pets are still driving me crazy. Caity (our dog) is going though the only thing that keeps her quiet and preoccupied faster than toilet flushing.

There are these chicken-flavored, braided chew toys (big) that she spends all day eating. It used to take her about two weeks to finish one; now she’s going through one every three days or so. Of course they’re sold at only one place at 2/$5, but I’m not rich!
The cats are getting on my nerves with their problems, but none of them is worse than Symba (our bird). He was doing just fine for 15 years, and then we had to go on a road trip, so we dropped him off at my grandmother’s house and she SPOILS HIM ROTTEN!!!! She searched the web for classical music so he could have something to listen to, she gave him all of her time AND she picked out the seeds he didn’t like! He was over there for a week. As soon as we all got settled at home, he noticed the change and started screaming his little head off. So everyday we had him listening to Mozart. That worked for a couple of months, but then he got sick of that, so we switched to watching cartoons on TV. He likes certain cartoons. I recently went and bought a Dora the Explorer DVD (it was painful) and he watches that at least three times a day, but he still has many screaming moments. I get several headaches and my mom doesn’t get any work done. He’s a disturbed bird that does not like to be disturbed. It’s lovely.

The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time.” – Abraham Lincoln 

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A Night Out with a Bunch of Writers

Tonight I decided to join my mother and the rest of her MFA classmates in dinner and a movie. We had a lot of fun and I connected with a lot of her friends/peers. I felt at home, considering I’m aspiring to be a writer too. Minus the majority of them drinking, we laughed, joked, and laughed some more about writing and college experiences. We met at one of their houses, and my mom parked in a ditch. Afterwards, we met up again at a Mexican restaurant for dinner (the poets went to this sushi place right next to where the fiction writers were dining at the Mexican restaurant). It was a small place, but we’d heard it was the best. We walked in (all fifteen of us) and two waiters passed by with an almost horrific look on their faces. It was cramped and they were trying to figure out where to put all of us. Another waiter (the manager I think) came by (with the same look on his face) and said (in a thick accent) he’d go put a table together for us. Five minutes later, we’re still waiting and wondered if he literally meant he was going to put a table together. He arrived shortly after that and seated us near the kitchen with about seven small tables pushed together. They were all of different heights, but they worked. The food however, was another story. I actually am not fond of Mexican food (only Taco Bell which is awesome, but not really Mexican food.) but I decided to give it another try. There was a lot to choose from, but I ordered a chicken enchilada and a side order of nacho chips with nacho cheese. The waiter who took our orders had an even thicker accent and spoke broken English; he understood even less English. I remembered to use my hands when speaking but that didn’t really get me anywhere. The enchilada did not taste like an enchilada (as my mother put it, “Yucky.”), and the nacho cheese I was looking forward to since I hadn’t had it in a long time (I love nacho cheese); but what I got was not nacho cheese. I could tell before he placed my plate on the table. It was much lighter – almost white, and thicker. Before I tasted it I knew they had melted a couple slices of white American cheese and put it over the nachos.

I got the waiter’s attention and asked for a saucer (I was animated while doing this) of nacho cheese. I said it three times (the first time, he pointed at my plate and nodded) until finally he said, “No nacho cheese.” and left. I was disappointed and defeated. He came back though about two minutes later with a saucer of the same cheese, but melted completely so that it was clearly a liquid substance.

I accepted with a “Thank you” and shook my head laughing. Figures.
After we left, we all kind of hung out in the parking lot laughing and joking some more and thinking of a way to get out of seeing the mandatory movie at the university. While we were hanging around, an older, beat up, discolored car rolled past us with rap music blasting out of the rolled down windows. We burst out laughing when we saw a elderly white couple driving in the car.
We then headed to the university, dragging our feet all the way up to the third floor where the theater was. We thought of one more excuse to get out of watching the movie: we got stuck in the elevator. But we showed up anyway right on time. The poets showed up a little later, just when the movie was starting. From the beginning to the end, we held WTF? expressions on our faces as we sat through Beasts of the Southern Wild; a film that is apparently nominated for an Oscar. My mom described our thoughts perfectly: “The people that nominated this film were on crack.”
As soon as the credits rolled we jumped out of our seats and exited the theater.

My mom and I arrived back at our hotel thirty minutes later and reunited with our four pets. I was welcomed home by one cat who showed her love to me by stealing my seat on the couch.

I’m pretty exhausted, so I’ll write my review of that God-awful movie tomorrow. My mom said she’ll probably have weird nightmares; probably.

Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.
– Scott Adams

Funny Joke

A friend of mine posted this on Facebook:

Herman and Martha were happily married for nearly forty years. The only friction in their marriage was caused by the husband’s habit of breaking wind nearly every morning as he awoke. The noise would always wake up Martha and the smell would cause her eyes to water as she would choke and gasp for air. Nearly every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping one in the morning. Herman told her that he couldn’t help it.
She begged him to visit a doctor to see if anything could be done, but the husband wouldn’t hear of it. He told her that it was just a natural bodily function, and then he would laugh in her face as she tried to wave the fumes away with her hands. She told him that there was nothing natural about it and if he didn’t stop, he was one day going to “fart his guts out.”
The years went by and Martha continued to suffer and Herman continued to ignore her warnings about “farting his guts out” until one Christmas morning.
Before dawn, Martha went downstairs to prepare the family feast. She fixed Christmas pudding, mashed potatoes, gravy and of course a turkey. While she was taking out the turkeys innards, a thought occurred to the wife as to how she might solve her husband’s problem.
With a devilish grin on her face, she placed the turkey guts into a bowl and quietly walked upstairs hours before her flatulent husband would awake. While he was still soundly asleep, she pulled back the covers and then gently pulled back her husband’s jockey shorts. She then placed all of the turkey guts into her husband’s underwear, pulled them up, replaced the covers and tiptoed back downstairs to finish preparing the family meal.
Several hours later she heard Herman awake with his normal loud ass trumpeting. This was soon followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps as her husband ran to the upstairs bathroom. Martha could not control herself and her eyes began to tear up as she rolled on the floor laughing. After years of putting up with him she had finally gotten even.
About twenty minutes later, Herman came downstairs in his blood stained underpants with a look of horror in his eyes. She bit her lip to keep from laughing and she asked him what was the matter.
“Honey,” he said. “You were right – all those years you warned me and I didn’t listen to you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Martha.
“Well, you always told me that I would end up farting my guts out one of these days and today it finally happened. But by the grace of God and these two fingers, I think I got them all back in.

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