Tales of W(h)it

A Few Things about being a Teller

2010-04-09T14:52:00.000-07:00

1. I know every single customer's name, spouse's name, account number, account balance, their overdraft limit, their PIN number, and the amount of their last deposit. I'm that good.

2. Why yes, of course I have $2,000 in two-dollar bills. That's a common denomination used in everyday banking, so I absolutely have that amount ready to sell to you.

3. I know the date and time of every single new coin that the government releases. Even the ones they haven't thought of yet!!!

4. No, as a matter of fact, your daughter cannot take money out of your account if she isn't a signer. Even if she brings in your ID.

5. Seeing as the last check you deposited bounced, yes, I do have to put a hold on this one, especially since it's made out for $12,000, and you only seem to have $113 in your account.

6. I control the regulations the government places on depository banks. I, alone, control them.

7. No, I'm sorry, I cannot open a new account for you. I'm not a personal banker. Yes, I recognize that it's a HUGE inconvenience to walk the 15 feet to the personal banker's desk. I apologize.

8. No, I cannot cash your check. Not only do you not have an account with us, but your check is out of date, written out for $20,000, and you don't have any form of ID to prove that you are the person to whom the check is written.

9. Your ID is expired. It's not my fault that you forgot to hop down to the DMV to have them send you a new one. Stop scowling at me.

10. I'm not lying when I tell you that the check your aunt/best friend/plumber/cable company/psychic wrote you is insufficient, and therefore unable to be cashed. Really. I'm not.

11. There are a number of proper responses to the question, "Hello, how are you today?!" Some of those responses may include, "very well, thank you, and yourself?," "eh, I've been better," or "I'm awful--this is the worst day of my life, I hate everyone, and my cat shit all over my brand new white carpet." Any of these are fine. Complete silence is not a response. I just asked you a question. ANSWER IT. I'm not beneath you, I don't transform into a goat when I get off work. I'm a person, with a soul and feelings. When your wife or mother or friend asks you a question, do you ignore them? Didn't think so. Use common courtesy and provide a response. It will greatly lift my opinion of people in general.

12. Yes, I realize that you have $7.5 million dollars in your account. That is SO FANTASTIC for you! That does not mean that you can toss your ID onto my desk without looking at me. That does not mean that you are physically incapable of filling out your own deposit slip. That also does not mean that you can effectively communicate with me using grunts and nods.

13. I don't care that your husband has millions of dollars. I also do not care about the perfume business you're starting. No, I don't want "my own fabulous scent" for the low low price of $50 an ounce.

14. I'm not your therapist. I don't need to know your life story, your daughter's life story, or your dog's (which you've felt the need to bring inside this place of business with you) life story. I don't care that your mother-in-law didn't like the turkey you cooked for Thanksgiving.

15. It's illegal for me to tell you the balance of your husband's account. You aren't a signer on that account. Yes, I'm aware that you're his wife.

16. The signs that say "The cutoff for deposits on each business day is 3:00pm" apply to you, too. No, I cannot go into the computer and change the date on the system. I'm sorry you got here late. That's obviously my fault. I'll go back in time (because I apparently have that power) and do your deposit 30 minutes ago. No prob.

17. No, I cannot stamp and mail your bills. Stamps cost money. Sealing, stamping and taking mail to the post office also costs money. This is not the post office. This is the bank.

18. No, there's nothing wrong with the bank website. That's your internet. Your ISP's lack of service is not our fault or problem.

19. Yes, I did, personally, cause the U.S. bank collapse. Take all your frustrations out on me, because it IS my fault!!!

20. I love anwering the phone at the bank. Here's why:
Me: Good afternoon, *name of bank*, this is Whitney, how may I direct your call?
Customer: WHAT'S MY BALANCE????
Me: One moment, sir, let me direct you to customer service, and they'll be happy to assist you.
Customer: NO, JUST TELL ME MY BALANCE, GATDAMNIT!

21. What's that? It's my fault your loan payment is late? Oh, yes, you're right. It was due Friday, April 2nd, and you put it in the night depository on Friday, April 2nd, at 11:00pm. I should have hung around and waited for you.

Engaged!!!

2010-03-15T13:34:00.000-07:00

That's right. Jeff nailed the ole coffin shut! I finally tricked him into thinking I'm pleasant enough to be around for a lifetime! MUahahahahahahahahah!!!!

I honestly don't know how I got so lucky as to have him select me as a mate. It must have been my disarmingly good looks. Or maybe this ginormous pimple that has erupted by the corner of my mouth due to the stress of planning a wedding. That's probably it. The pimple is what did him in. Stick with me, single gals, I'll have you married off in no time!

I'm hoping that going forward, this doesn't turn into a complete wedding blog. I'm sure it will though, since most of my mind is wrapped around stupid details like "candle or flower centerpieces," "black or plum bridesmaids dresses," and "how much alcohol can I actually drink before the ceremony without falling over during my walk down the aisle." So, I apologize in advance for my lack of varying blog topics, but damnit, I'm getting married, and I want the entire universe to know about it!

So, there you have it. I'm sorry this post is so short, but I really can't think of much else to say. ..

OH! I guess I can tell you a bit about how Jeff proposed and got this whole ball rolling in the first place. He went to Freeport to ask my father for permission to marry me (such a gentleman!) and when my dad asked when he was going to pop the question, Jeff said, "I guess today." (Such a planner.)

Anyway, he had to call my work and have them tell me to stay a little longer, because Jeff wanted to propose up here (in Houston). So, he hauled ass (like, 80-85mph, which, trust me, Jeff NEVER does--my head typically dangles over the precipice of explosion when he drives because he barely even goes the speed limit) to hurry up and try to make it before I left work, and got there in pretty record time.

He pulled up to the drive thru at the bank and said hello. This isn't an entirely unusual thing, he stops by to bring me coffee every now and then or just to say what's up, so I wasn't really thrown off guard by the fact that he was there. Even when he asked if he could send me something through the drive-thru tube, I didn't really catch on that something was amiss.

So, when I went to get the tube, I looked down and saw a glimmer of something round and golden. I immediately looked away, fearing the worst (worst = Jeff molding a piece of aluminum foil into the shape of a ring and spray-painting it gold JUST to mess with me. Yes, he would do that. He's evil), and walked back over to the speaker and said, ever so eloquently, "Uh." He asked if I could meet him outside, and I said "sure" and took the tube (without looking down into it again, mind you) outside.

When I met him in the parking lot, he took the tube from me, got the ring out, and got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. :) I said yes, of course (at least, I think that's what I said, it's really just a big blur now!), and cried and hugged him and turned about as red as a lobster. When I get overly emotional, I tend to turn beet red and have no way of changing that.

Thankfully, the ring was real, not foil*, and off we drove into the sunset (or to Big Woodrow's, same thing) to have a celebratory beer at the place where we first reunited. It was glorious and I honestly don't think I've ever been happier than I was that afternoon. We heard from some many different people who called to congratulate us, and the outpouring of love was definitely an added bonus to the whole day. Without a doubt, it was a day I will never forget.

So that's the proposal story. Looking back, I honestly could've killed Jeff for sending the ring clattering throught the drive-thru tube. It could've been sucked into oblivion or some other universe! And trust me, with his luck, that could've very easily have happened to Jeff.

*I would have gladly accepted an aluminum foil ring, and told Jeff as much. He could've proposed with duct tape and I would've said yes. :)

A few things about Jeff and me

2010-03-15T10:33:00.000-07:00

1. We've known one another since we were 3 years old.
2. We went to high school together and he was in band.
3. He was Homecoming king our Senior year. Nerd.
4. We both lived in College Station at the same time, but never ran into one another.
5. The first time I ever really hung out with him was at Big Woodrow's in May 2007.
6. I had just gotten out of a long relationship and didn't want to date anyone.
7. Jeff is very persistent.
8. He's also very honest and genuine.
9. After letting me know that he liked me and thought that we'd be great together, I told him I still didn't want to date anyone and that I just needed some time.
10. He told me he'd give me as long as it took.
11. The next week we went out on our first date.
12. He took me fishing.
13. We didn't catch a thing, but I had a great time because he made me laugh the whole day.
14. Jeff's hilarious. Seriously. We immediately had a very quirky bond that grew from quoting Lord of the Rings and drunkenly singing Johnny Cash at the top of our lungs.
15. He first kissed me in his truck, parked in front of my friend's house.
16. He told me he'd never sell that truck because that's where we had our 1st kiss, and that he never wants to be rid of it.
17. Every time he kisses me, my mind goes blank. Still. Even to this day.
18. He has wonderful, rough, manly hands.
19. He told me he loved me for the first time standing in my driveway. I remember exactly where I was standing.
20. He can laugh and poke fun at me without hurting my feelings.
21. I can do the same to him.
22. He has short arms. Like a T-Rex, and I often make fun of him for it.
23. He's very awkward around babies.
24. He plays guitar and it makes me smile.
25. We have so many inside jokes it's ridiculous.
26. We nearly have our own secret language full of stupid words like, "Zee."
27. He tolerates my whining.

More later.

Things I Love

2010-03-15T08:31:00.001-07:00

Here's a very long list, in no particular order of things and people and stuff that I love:

Juicy peaches

Star Wars

Lord of the Rings

Quoting Lord of the Rings with Jeff

Sunny, warm days

Driving with the windows down

Laughing

Cheese

Rare, tender steak

German potatoes

Crawfish

Crawfish boils on Saturday afternoons

Harry Potter

Bic 537R blue pens

Planners

My engagement ring

Jeff

My Mom

Pat

My family

My soon-to-be-family

Salsa

Chips

The Grilled Chicken Salad with creamy parmesan dressing from Cafe Express

The Judds

Pam Tillis

Lady Gaga

Knee high boots over jeans

High heels

My Jessica Simpson cowboy boots

Warm pretzels with melted cheese from the mall

Sbarro spagghetti

Cupcakes

Baking

Cleaning

Falling asleep

Taking pictures

Flowers

Lucy

Lucy's kisses

Fishing

the smell of salt-water

Ninny

Lost

The Sookie Stackhouse novels and True Blood

Lauren Garcia

Helen Merritt

Rachel Brothers

Tina's stuffed mushrooms

Tina

Books that make me cry

Wedding magazines

Wedding dresses

Wedding planning

Pretty lighting

Sunset

Childhood memories of Schlitterbahn

Two stepping

Good, live country music

Jeff's freckles

Jeff's red hair

Zeee

Fluffy white towels

Floating the river

Warm water out of the hose during summer

Watermelon

BBQ ribs

My Mac

Home grown pickles

Playing washers at the beach on a cloudless day

Beer

Wine

Clementines

Grapefruit

Sleeping in

Camp

Lever 2000 body wash

Fall colors

Easter weekend

Theme parties

The Beatles

Jeff, David and Andrew playing guitar

Noah

Dogs

Linus in Hats

Jeff's cocoon

Snow

Cow

Baby tigers

Watching big storms roll in

My Best Friend's Wedding

Space Balls

Friend's weddings

Sex and the City

Texas

America

History

School

Learning

Discussing literature

Stretchy pants

Socks

Reef flippy floppies

Riding in a boat

Swimming

Laying on a float in a pool

Kayaking

Williams-Sonoma

Shopping for kitchenware

Surprises

Fresh, crisp paper

The smell of freshly cut grass

Picnics

Lauging so hard I cry

Dancing

Decorating my apartment

Discussing Lost theories

Swirl

Starbucks Lemon Pound Cake

Starbacks skinny vanilla lattes

Cheese enchiladas

Vacations

Ireland

Amsterdam

Jogging at Memorial Park on a sunny day

Calling in "sick" to work

Paid sick leave

The smell of Origins in the Galleria

Shipley's donuts and jalepeno sausage and cheese kolaches

Saurkraut

Legal pads

Foot rubs

My Mom's head rubs

Falling asleep on the couch

Reading on the patio

Opening the windows

The smell of clean cotton

Writing

Sititng in the driveway with family and neighbors

Soft sheets

Kissing

Up

A Christmas Story

Ralphie

Men with rough hands

Clay Walker

Eric Northman

Vampire Bill

Christian Bale

Batman

Judging red carpet fashion

Snuggling with Lucy

Puppies

Swinging on a tire swing

Jumping on trampolines

Austin City Limits

Working outside in the dirt

Climbing trees

Laying by the pool, drinking mojitos

Getting letters in the mail

Little kids

New haircuts

Baseball caps

Going to Astro's games and sitting in the nosebleeds, eating hotdogs and drinking overpriced beer

Eating lunch with my mother

Pub grub

Buffalo wings

Pizza with lots of marinara

Blazin' Noodles at Pei Wei

Target

Ninny's homemade bread

And turkey

And dressing

And gravy

Gumbo

Mix CDs

Massages

Candles that smell like clean linens

Puns

Warm rolls

Dewberry pie

Rope swings

Painting

Falling asleep in hammocks

Lake LBJ

Brooches

Pay day

Pineapple banana orange smoothies from Central Market

Chick-fil-A

The Pioneer Woman

The Office

hulu

Sun dresses

Retro swimsuits

Kiwis

Ham and cheese sammiches

...and so much more...

I really enjoy thinking about things that I love. It makes me thankful for all that I have and have to look forward to. Like getting married. And Karen's baby. And lots and lots of other really wonderful things.

Heidi Montag

2010-01-21T06:53:00.001-08:00

Current headlines are focusing on the elective cosmetic surgery that 23-year old Heidi Montag has recently undergone. After having both rhinoplasty and a breast augmentation three years ago, Heidi again went under the knife to have another 10 procedures done. Seventy percent of these were above the clavicle. The ten procedures included:

1) Mini brow lift

2) Botox injections in forehead and frown areas

3) Nose job revision

4) Fat injections in her cheeks

5) Chin reduction

6) Neck liposuction

7) Ears pinned back

8) Breast augmentation revision

9) Liposuction on waist, hips, and thighs

10) Buttock augmentation

Heidi, circa 2005, sans plastic surgery

Heidi, circa 2006, post breast and nose job

The surgery took nearly 10 hours, four more hours than what is recommended for elective cosmetic surgery. The procedure has illicited a wide variety of comments, both positive and negative. Obviously, it depends on what each person finds aesthetically pleasing, whether you will find her more attractive or less. But the dominant reaction has been "Why?" Why would a beautiful, healthy, seemingly happy young woman feel the need to alter her appearance in such a drastic and scandalous way? Many have taken the cynical, cruel route and demonized Heidi for sending the message to young girls that plastic surgery is the answer to physical insecurities. Some have stated that it's sad that Heidi felt the need to do this:

I find this to be on the more unfortunate end of the spectrum. Obviously, it is absolutely her choice to have the surgery. She's an adult, she can afford it, and we luckily live in a country to allow us to do what we deem necessary for our own bodies. I will never think less of a woman who opts to go under the knife so that she can continue her life in a more secure way. I've seen firsthand what a great thing plastic surgery can be for not only women (and men) who just want a little belly fat removed, but for a breast cancer survivor who opts to have the breasts that have been removed replaced with saline so they can have sexual confidence. Hell, even for women who were just never able to get any bigger than that A-cup! For years I've considered having a nose job! I've always wondered what I'd look like without the massive witch-hump that I've had my entire life (thank you, paternal grandmother). Have I acted on that curiosity? No. Will I ever? I don't know. Not in the near future. But when and if I do, it will be a decision that I only I can make.

All of that being said, I do think Heidi's case is quite sad. She's never been America's Sweetheart, in fact, she's quite the opposite. Gossip blog sites have banned writing about her and her husband, and they've done damn near everything possible to garner media attention in any way imaginable. It's pretty safe to say that they are two of the least liked people in Hollywood today. They're famous for simply being famous and for being on an incredibly superficial "reality" TV show on MTV, called "The Hills, " which follows the lives of young girls and guys who come from incredibly wealthy families living in Southern California. Heidi and her now-husband, Spencer Pratt basically used every outing to be photographed by the papparazzi and pose in the most ridiculous and inane situations imaginable. Needless to say, they annoyed the crap out of everyone, and turned the world against them.

As I was saying, Heidi's case is a little unfortunate. Is she doing this for publicity? Does she truly feel better about herself now? Is she completely batshit crazy? Where's her mother? While I can defend plastic surgery when done for the right reasons, I have an incredibly hard time justifying this amount. Everyone has something about themselves they'd like to tweak or change a bit, but to completely alter the way you look?

It seems as though there are several underlying issues for Heidi. She's in a high-profile industry (but that's self-inflicted--you can stop being a reality tv star quite quickly), she's in the media spotlight and subjected to catty gossip bloggers' judgemental comments on her apperance, etc., but when the day is done, she's the one who decided to do this. You can have people call you unattractive, but it takes self-confidence and a humble heart to be happy with yourself. I'm not trying to say that getting cosmetic surgery means you aren't confident, but there has to be a sane, confident base there to begin with. You have to be ok with who you are inside before you start messing with what you consider to be unattractive on the outside. I'm worried that Heidi's decision isn't coming from a desire to feel right in her own skin, but from a deep insecurity with herself as a person, and no amount of plastic surgery can change who you are.

It's similar to putting make-up over a tattoo; it may hide it for a while, but the tattoo is still there and you have to take that make-up off when you go to sleep at night. Heidi may feel more beautiful, but whenever she washes her face and lays down to go to bed, she still has to come to terms with what she's made of her life and who she really is. You can't hide from yourself and your conscience, and no boob or nose job can make you a good person.

I truly hope, for Heidi's sake, that she had this surgery for the right reasons. I hope she doesn't wake up at 30 and wonder what the hell she did to herself. I hope she starts to work on herself as a person, digging deep to discover what she truly wants out of life, what makes her happy, and has the courage to make the changes to become content. I wish the best for her, and pray that she has the will to maybe get out of the spotlight for a while (or forever) and start doing what makes her whole and happy.

2010

2010-01-13T07:47:00.000-08:00

Well, well, Time, you've made a fool of me once again. You're back to taunt me with all the things I didn't do, all the things I did badly, and all the mistakes I've made over this past year.

Let's be honest: 2009 wasn't a good year for most. It sure as hell was tough, if not brutal. The economy was (is) miserable, there were more homeless people holding up signs on my way home from work, ugly political battles were strewn across the tv screen and newspapers... Le sigh.

Personally, 2009 was a year of enormous lessons. I did a lot of learning and growing up. I recognized the fact that even if I don't want to, I have to be responsible for myself, which, actually wasn't that bad. It's nice being self-sufficient. Terrifying, but comforting all the same.

I was laid-off in 2009. I had to move away from things and people that I love dearly (my boyfriend, his sister and brother-in-law, Cameron peeps, snow, Hill House, skiing, etc.) to make sure I could afford to pay rent on a house in which I no longer lived. My dream of living in a new state crumbled pretty quickly around my feet. It seemed like just as soon as I had gotten comfortable in Colorado, I had to come back to Texas. Not only move back, but move back into my parent's house. There are few things more humbling that having to move back in with your parents. There's nothing wrong with my parents, in fact, they're fantastic, understanding, loving, and fun to be around. It's just that I thought I was done with that. I moved over 1,000 miles away, found a job, and had a life! Then the pretty rug was snatched right out from under me. Back into my old room, I went. And it wasn't even really my old room! My little brother claimed my room the second I moved out! So, I got to move into his smaller, unfamiliar bedroom. Ick!

But that was ok. I rationalized it by telling myself that it wasn't my fault. I was laid off. It was the economy's fault. It wasn't as though I was incomptetent or lazy. I did my job well, and had a boss that hated to see me go. Knowing that it wasn't through any fault of my own, I was able to justify moving back home.

Then came "The Revelation." Those who are closest to me know what this involved and know what a toll it took on my mental state, sanity, and heart. To put it as mildly as possible, I lied to my family about something so important, that I was sure I would be shunned and banished and beaten and chased with burning sticks. I should have been. It's what I deserved. But I wasn't. I was afforded the greatest lesson I may have ever learned: forgiveness. To say I have a loving, understanding and compassionate family is the most horrendous understatement ever uttered. Suffice it to say that my confession was one of the most difficult moments of my life, and I am genuinely humbled to have people in my life who love me as much as they do. That ordeal was not only the most impacting of 2009, but perhaps my life. It was definitely a pivotal moment for my morality, thought processes, and actions. I liken it to a movie: the main character lies, go through hell and high water to be redeemed, but doesn't want to suffer the consequences, and finally, in the end, makes the right decision and puts the audiences mind at ease. Coming Spring 2011. Just kidding. :)

Oh, 2009, you cruel mistress. How dare you make me face adversity, honesty, and trials! Don't you know I'd much prefer to have no troubles in life? Gosh! 2010, you better treat me well.

Hell, 2010 is already treating me well. I had a very calm, quite New Year celebration with Lucy at my apartment. Just what I wanted. I began working out and eating right. I even cleaned out all of the craptastic food from my fridge and pantry. Yeah. Watch out! I have a budget that is realistic and that I'm able to stick with, and I'll be out of debt (ALL debt) by June of this year, if things go as planned (which they never do, but hey). I have an amazingly solid group of friends who I love and cherish. They provide me with advice, humor, sarcasm, shoulders to cry on, and most importantly, happiness. My family remains an omnipresent force of good. Dean will be graduating from high school in May. I am so proud. There will be a new member of the Bauml clan this year, because Jeff's sister is expecting!!! There aren't enough words (and not nearly enough happy ones) to describe how thrilled I am about this development. Karen will be a beautiful little pregnant woman and an absolutely fantastic mother. Ryan will be an amazing, loving, fun father. They just need to hurry up and move back to TEXAS so that I can pester Karen every second of every day.

There is so much to look forward to this year. I hope that I don't get bogged down in trivial crap this year. I hope I learn new things and become more open-minded. I hope I stand up for myself and my loved ones. I hope to make the world a better place, even if it's in some small way.

I have plenty of resolutions to attempt to follow this year, but they can be summed up in one quick sentence: Become a happier, healthier, more responsible, honorable, loving, and compassionate person. I don't think you can really go wrong with that, right? :)

P.S. More (trivial) things to look forward to this year: The final season of LOST, the rest of the 1st season of Glee, the 3rd season of True Blood, the new Sookie Stackhouse novel, the Universal Studios Harry Potter theme park opening, and the first instalment of the 7th Harry Potter movie!!!!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYY!!!!

I'm getting old

2009-12-28T08:32:00.000-08:00

It's true. When my Mother e-mailed to discover what I so desperately wanted for Christmas this year, I responded with "well, I don't really want anything, but I do need some mixing bowls and a muffin pan." Mixing bowls and a muffin pan. Is this what I've become? I also requested measuring cups/spoons, a potatoe masher, a pizza slicer, a can opener, chopping knives, cookie cutters, a rolling pin, a spoon rest, a ladle, etc. I asked for a rolling pin. I'm in my mid-twenties! I am young, hip, and cool! I live in the thriving metropolis of Houston, Texas! I can literally walk to the Galleria and to numerous trendy, expensive bars and restaurants! You'd think I need sexy heels (which I do), flashy jewelry, short skirts and shiny, low-cut tops!

Nah. I just need a rolling pin.

I asked for this for a reason. I'm not just a freak. I was baking cookies the other night, and I wanted to use my brand-new cookie cutters that my mother so kindly bought me. Making cut-out cookies involves rolling the dough onto the counter in order to create a flat pallet off of which you can cut out your cookies. In order to do this, I needed a rolling pin. Well, seeing as I didn't have one, I used the next best thing: a wine bottle. After covering said wine bottle in flour, I proceeded to roll the dough out onto the counter. Needless to say, I was incredibly unsuccessful. Dough got everywhere, particularly the places it shouldn't have been, specifically, my mouth. :( It was a mess. I was a mess. AND I had to throw away the wine bottle because I was too lazy to wash it off and place it back on top of my cabinets, which is where my wine bottle graveyard is located. I guess I'll just have to drink another bottle of wine. Too bad.

Moving on, the whole point of this entry was to explain how lame I now am. Hopefully, I have successfully conveyed that message to you. If not, let me elaborate. I could easily be talked into not doing anything fun on New Year's Eve this year. Yeah. What the hell? For some reason, sitting at home, drinking Irish coffees and watching movies seems like the most fantastic idea in the world to me. This isn't to say that I don't have incredibly fun options: I could drive to either Austin or Dallas to attend fabulous house parties at good friend's houses. I could also hop on down to San Marcos to spend time with my amazing sister and niece, which I may do, just not on New Year's. I, too, could go home and party it up with some old high school peeps. OR I could stay in Houston and go with college friends to a pub, dress to the nines, party my ass off, and stay at a super-nice hotel. But all of these options involve money, driving somewhere, and me showering. Sitting on my ass at home, eating chicken pot pie does not, however, involve me bathing. Or even having to resemble a respectable human being. This option seems just glorious, and that, my friends, makes me old. And somewhat anti-social, but I can live with that.

Polished

2009-12-23T07:43:00.000-08:00

I'll never be one of those women who always looks "put together."

I wish I were. I wish I had the motivation to look simply fantastic wherever I go. Even just to Target. I will forever be the "jeans, t-shirt, and flip-flops" kinda girl. And I'm okay with that, really, but it does make me feel a little less feminine and stylish when I see a woman walking her dog at Memorial Park in the perfect dog walking outfit: perfectly fitted running pants, and tailored sweater that enhances the female physique, perfectly pony-tailed/tousled "I don't care, but it looks fantastic anyway" hair, cute Chanel gloves, Burberry rainboots, and the cute well-behaved dog that isn't attempting to choke itself on its leash by running 100mph faster than I'm walking. Ugh. Then, when she gets done walking the dog, they hop into their lovely, clean, un-dented vehicle that doesn't have Whataburger cups strewn about everywhere. Who lives like that?!?! An example of what this may look like would be Charlotte York, from Sex and the City:

photo courtesy of http://img210.imageshack.us/i/charharry7jg.jpg/
The only thing I can figure is that they must put out 150 times more effort than I. They're the type of people who wake up an hour early to go to the gym, eat breakfast, read the newspaper and pay bills all before they even leave for work to begin the day. I, on the other hand, hit snooze until I'm forced to launch myself out of bed in terror that I'll be late for work, leaving only enough time to brush my teeth, pull my hair back, and throw on something that hopefully matches. I don't like to think of it as laziness, I just like my sleep more than I enjoy looking halfway decent.

But can this be cured? Why couldn't I be that stylish-looking, polished woman? Huh? I could do it! It would just mean sacrifice. I can make sacrifices. I guess it would be nice to not run around in total paranoia every morning. I could go to the gym, get my heart pumping, work up a sweat, then come home and actually cook breakfast for myself, instead of hoping and praying that one of my co-workers will bring in kolaches that day. And paying bills before work would definitely alleviate some stress. I could wash dishes and do laundry before work, too. Then, whenever I came home, the only thing I would really need to do would be to take Lucifer out to potty and......that's it. I could even take her on long walks at Memorial Park! She would love that! I would actually have time to train her to not choke herself on her leash! I hate only being able to walk her to the end of the street and back because I have other shit to do. This would be so great.

That's all I would be obligated to do in the evenings: Walk Lucy. Also, I could actually not rush to try to thaw something out for dinner, maybe go to the bookstore and do a little shopping, maybe meet up with friends for a drink. I absolutely hate having to spend my free evenings doing tasks that keep me from just relaxing and enjoying myself. I could find recipes during the day, then go to the grocery store after work, pick up the necessary ingredients, and actually cook a nice meal!!! OH MY GOSH, THE POSSIBILITIES!!!

This is starting to sound more and more attractive. And my body clock would actually work with it. Especially on weekdays, since I really enjoy hitting the hay at around 9:00pm, anyway. Oh my gosh. I could really do this! And on Sundays, I could actually not look like a hungover, bleary-eyed monster at church. Wouldn't that be a treat for all those sitting near me? The more I ponder this, the more I like the way it sounds. I could do this.

Will I hate every minute of it the first few days? Absolutely. But I really do think that it will be a good decision overall. It will definitely train me for the day (in the very, very distant future) when I have 87 (3) kids that pop open at 4am wanting something from me. I have been waking up pretty early the last few weeks, anyway (I have to be at work at 7:15am, so I've been waking up at 6:00). I don't think it would be that much of a stretch to start waking up at 4:30 or 5:00. I could have an hour at the gym, come home, shower and eat breakfast, take Lucy for a little walk, and still have some time left over.

So, maybe I can be one of those "put-together" women, after all. Maybe with 20% more effort, I wouldn't have to look like a greasy-haired slob. Maybe I could actually look 25, instead of 19. It sure would make me feel better. I wouldn't have to stand next to one of these stylish women and wish I would have put on clean jeans. I think, overall, it's about self-respect, and being happy with the way you present yourself. Hell, if I don't take myself seriously, who will? And to be sure, this doesn't have anything to do with self-confidence or needing approval from others; this is about approval from myself and being sure and proud enough of myself to dress and conduct my affairs in a way that shows I am a mature, respectable adult.

Which I am. :)

A scathing review of "Twilight"

2009-11-20T07:49:00.000-08:00

*Just a disclaimer, this post is mainly going to be me reviewing the Twilight saga. There will be spoilers, so don't say I didn't warn you.

So, I've been reading a lot of books and watching a lot of shows lately that focus on vampires and the supernatural creatures involved with them. For some reason, I find this genre of literature and tv pretty fascinating and at the moment I'm reading one of the classics, "Interview with the Vampire" by Anne Rice. Of the vampire books that I've read, it has been the best written, most acutely emotional, most swiftly moving. Granted, I haven't read that many vampire books, (only 3 series, which, I guess totals up to about 13), but I now see where Stephanie Meyer (whose writing I detest, but must admit that her stories are fun) obtained her premise for the "Twilight" series. From here on out, this post will be a scathing review of a series I once found entertaining, but now just really piss me off.

To begin, Meyer's "Twilight" saga is definitely one that is entertaining, I won't deny her that. Also, her character development is incredible. You truly do learn the perfect amount at the perfect time about each character. Specifically, her development of Bella is both smart and intruiging. As you read, it is easy to understand Bella's reasoning simply because she's been described and explained so well. Edward, too, is illustrated so as to give just the right amount of information when needed. Meyer knows when to tell and when to hide. This aspect of her writing is impressive and enjoyable.

However. Aside from her impeccable character development, her lackluster writing skills combined with the fact that 3/4 of her material is completely ripped off has definitely turned me off. I was willing at first to give the books their due: they are a fast-paced, surreal, puppy-love filled journey of two teens in love, with all the odds against them. It's cute, it's suspensful at times, but overall, it fails to provide strong literary grit and substance. Starting with the first book, "Twilight," Meyer relentlessly beats readers to death with Edward Cullen's (vampiric) beauty. There must be at least 25 instances where Bella (protagonist/stupid, impressionable girl) is enamored with Edward's face, forgeting to breathe because she is so enthralled. Gag me.

It's one thing to inform readers that the person with whom your protagonist is enraptured is the most good-looking teenager on the planet, quite another to remind them of this every 3 pages. It gets old quick. Is it not common knowledge already that vampires are handsome, beautiful creatures who don't age? We get it, Stephanie, stop writing as if we didn't get it the first 97 times. That is not my only complaint about the first book in the series, but I digress. In my opinion, Twilight is in the top 2 of the series. Coming in at a very low 4th is New Moon.

Wow. What to say about New Moon. New Moon is the second book in the series. The first time I read through the series, it was my least favorite book. I just finished reading it again, in anticipation of the movie coming out tomorrow, simply to refresh my memory. Well, my memory was right. This book is terrible. Not only is it terribly written (as usual for Stephenie Meyer), but the main character, Bella Swan, is simply pathetic. If she were my daughter, I would've slapped some sense into her and told her to get her act together.

photo courtesy of: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R_c5fLGMgbg/Sjkq1s-mldI/AAAAAAAAADo/k0krGXSLtfk/s1600-h/1054326558_ultsdamsel.jpg

Listen, Missy: quit crying. You aren't 5, and it's just a boy.

If you haven't read the book (be grateful), I'll give you a brief synopsis: Edward, Bella's 17 year old vampire boyfriend, leaves Bella because he feels that his presence causes her danger, which, huh, it does, because....HE'S A VAMPIRE!!! Consequently, Bella slips into an overly dramatic depression, during which, she mopes around completely devoid of personality and liveliness. She wakes up screaming every night after her nightmare about wandering alone in the woods without Edward. Wakes up screaming. Everynight. Anyway, book moves along, she finds a new friend, discovers Edward is going to off himself and flies to Italy to "save" him from said offing. During their flight back home, she literally never stops staring at his "perfect face," tracing it with her fingers, memorizing it with her hands, for, she thinks, to waste one moment asleep, not looking at his face, would be utterly intolerable.

So basically, it all boils down to a depressed, mopey teenage girl sobbing and alienating everyone in her life for 6 months until Edward finally comes back to her, at which point, she totally cuts off the one friend who was there for her during her darkest hours. A GREAT message to send to teenage girls, no?! Ugh. Disgusting. Like I said, if my daughter were going through something like this, at first, I would be understanding and help her through it. But after the first 2 weeks or so, if she were still being an embarassing excuse for a female, I would have a little chit-chat with her, tell her to stand up, take a deep breath, and move the hell on. Life is NOT all about boys. Life is about friendship, laughter, family, etc. Bella kills me. Wake up from your damn zombie trance, go out on a date, and GET OVER IT!!!

Le sigh. I know I just went off on a tangent there. I'll hop off my soapbox now. The third book is "Eclipse." It's pretty good. Still stupid and poorly written, but at least there's suspense and a slightly more bearable plotline. But, since I feel much more like complaining today, I'm going to move on to book 4. :)

"Breaking Dawn" (the 4th book, in case some of you didn't make that leap with me) began with the true makings of a good story (albeit on an incredibly weak foundation): Bella becomes pregnant with Edward's child (despite Meyer's previous rule that vampires CANNOT reproduce), a child that threatens Bella's health, and eventually, life. The suspense remains almost palpable as Bella nears her due date, and she is willing to die for the life of her child. This is true literary grit: the author's ability to kill off a beloved main character, to make the ultimate sacrifice. Unfortunately, Meyer doesn't have the balls. Bella, on the brink of death while giving birth, has the child, and then is saved by Edward acting swiftly and turning her into a vampire after the baby has been born. Ok. Great, Edward saves the day. The baby (Renesmee. Yeah, that's what she names her daughter. Is there a worse name?) is healthy and beautiful, a vampire-human hybrid that has superhuman strength, drinks blood, but also has a heartbeat and her own blood coursing through her veins. Bella is transformed into a strong, beautiful vampire (noting of course how thankful she is to finally be beautiful, and therefore, worthy of Edward's love. Yet another great message for impressionable teenage girls). Everything seems to be perfect in the land of the undead, but danger lurks around the corner as the Vulturi (the Royal vampire family that enforces strict vampire law) catch wind of the creation of an "immortal child."

Long story short (kind of): An "immortal child" is a child who was made a vampire as a baby. So, a vicious, bloodsucking child. Obvious why that would be against the rules. The Vultori are under the (incorrect) impression that Renesmee (Bella and Edward's daughter) is an immortal child, so they come to do justice to the Cullen family, (which includes Edward, Bella, Renesmee, Carlisle, Esme, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie, all vampires), justice in the realm of their complete and total demise. The Cullens gear up to fight, to save themselves and Renesmee, and show the Vultori that she is not, in fact, an immortal child. See, to me, this seems simple. Of course the Cullens will have time to say, "Hey! Wait! She's not immortal, see?! She has a heartbeat!" But apparently, they won't, which is nonsense. Blah, blah, blah, they gather other vampires to help their cause, hoping that they'll be able to slow the Vultori down. The Vultori show up and the showdown ensues. When one thinks of a vampire showdown, one must think of death and destruction and insane awesome fighting and danger. Danger that will surely end in death, torment, and agony. No. None of the above. In the last chapters of the book, one of them ironically dubbed "Bloodlust," the big showdown between the Cullens and the Vulturi comes to a head. Surely, there will be a battle, a bloody (since one of the chapters is named "bloodlust" right?), skull-crushing, limb-ripping, head-rolling fight to the very end, right???!!! Right?! Mmmm.....no. The two groups talk. They talk and leer and growl at one another until the Vulturi eventually turn around and go back to Italy. Everyone lives happily ever after. Edward, Bella, and the rest of the Cullens have to sacrifice absolutely nothing to get what they want: an eternity of long, happy, beautiful, rich life. Doesn't happen in real life, shouldn't happen in literature. Does not cut it. A great book requires true, honest, painful sacrifice, and unfortunately, Stephenie Meyer does not deliver that. Good literature moves you, shakes you to your core, makes you cry and hate the author for what they've done. Real, true, honest literature mimcs life: there are problems, people die, and things don't always (if ever) go your way. Nothing goes wrong in the Twilight saga. Everything works out perfectly. Nice 'n neat. Not even the bad guys die! They just go back home to another continent. I'm sorry, but the bad guys in our own lives don't just fly back to Italy, never bothering us again. Stephenie Meyer has no grit, no balls, and no raw honest talent. So there.

I don't sound bitter, do I? :) Having said all that, let me admit that I really do enjoy these books. I enjoy discussing them and re-reading them. Perhaps it's the mark of a good book that it's created this much passion in me. I could talk about it for hours, really. So, hey, I may have my problems with it, but at the end of the day, it gets me thinking, and for that I can't complain. :)

Jeff's mean.

2009-10-13T14:43:00.001-07:00

As a young girl, I was quite brave. I wanted to go sky-diving, I'd jump off high cliffs, out of tall trees, climb on roofs, etc. I loved to fly in airplanes and I had no fear of heights. I welcomed scary movies and thought "Scream" and "I Know What You Did Last Summer" were mere childsplay. It was a wonderful life, full of hopes and dreams...

...then I watched "The Exorcist."

After seeing Linda Blair's possessed cranium spin around whilst spewing green vomit and hearing the voice of "Satan," I pretty much gave up on being brave. I don't think I gave up so much as had the desire ripped from me (by Satan and Hollywood's portrayal of him). After watching that one film, my life changed, and not for the better. I used to be a little weary of snakes. Their fangs and slithery bodies freaked me out. After watching The Exorcist, though, this fear of snakes escalated to a new level. See, my rationalization was this: if little girls can be possessed by Satan, and in nearly every written account of Satan, he is portrayed as a snake, then surely snakes, by proxy, can possess little girls, surely, this is Satan's means of demonically possessing human beings. Right? Of course. My logic is bulletproof.

From then on, my fear of snakes rose and, to this day, I still have a little voice in the back of my head saying, "not only can snakes bite you, but they can POSSESS YOU and make you do crazy, terrifying shit that will haunt you for the rest of your life." Do you see what watching "The Exorcist" has done to me? DO YOU???

Present day me still has a difficult time watching scary movies. I can handle the stupid "Jeepers Creepers," "The Blob," spooky ghost story type movies. Blobs can't possess me. However, any film that focuses on demonic possession or presences will send me running for the hills (which may or may not have eyes, apparently).

Enter Jeff. In case you aren't aware, a movie was released recently titled "Paranormal Activity." I'd read a little bit about it on the internet; reviews and such that said it was actually a good movie. It's hard to find a well-reviewed horror movie these days. A few days after I'd read about the movie, Jeff brought it up and mentioned that we should go see it (bastard). Seeing as I had read a few good reviews about it, I hesistantly conceded. So. Two nights ago, we went and saw it. From what I had read, it was a story about a couple who had a ghostly presence in their house. "Ok," I thought, "I can handle a fun, spooky ghost story." So, we hopped on down to the theatre and sawed of our left arms to pay for the tickets, since that was the fee, and got some soda and pickles and took our seats. The movie began innocently enough and had a few laughs. It was filmed the same way as "The Blair Witch Project," meaning that they filmed everything themselves so that they could see what seemed to be haunting "Katie." The premise was that, since she was 8 years old, she had been waking up to feel and see this presence in the room with her. It followed her to a new house, to college, etc., and now it was in the house where she was living with "Micah" her boyfriend. Apparently, it was a Katie-specific ghost. So, they call a paranormal researcher, who comes to the house to find out what is haunting Katie, and how to get rid of it.

This is when things went downhill. The paranormal researcher informed Katie and Micah that this "presence" was not, in fact, a ghost, but a demon. Yes. Demon. At this point, I looked at Jeff and said "I can't do this shit. If this thing's a demon, we have to leave." He said "Ok," but laughed at me. From then on out I had my hand over my eyes. After something would happen (like, the "DEMON" would lift up Katie's sheets, or stomp up and down the stairs, or pull her by her leg out of her bed, then drag her down the stairs), I'd make the mistake of asking Jeff "what just happened????" and then he'd tell me, so that I could form a (surely) more terrifying vision of what was happening than what was really occurring on the screen. Never a good idea. I should have never asked, never inquired, but nooooo. I was curious. So, the movie continues, and the demon's voice starts to say Katie's name, at which point I cover not only my eyes, but also my ears so I can't hear that creepy voice that will definitely be haunting my nightmares. I can still hear the bass and the screams of the rest of the audience, but the fact that I don't know what's happening is comforting. I don't see the grand finale, thank GOD, and finally the movie is over. As we're leaving I ask Jeff what happened at the end (stupid, stupid, stupid). He tells me (that asshole, he knew it would scare me) and I form the horrifying mental picture in my mind.

It's been 2 days since the movie. I'm tired at work right now because I CAN'T FALL ASLEEP AT NIGHT. I must have turned the lamp on 17 times last night because I thought I saw a shadow sweep across my bed, or my sheet lift up a fraction of a millimeter. Sunday night I didn't sleep at all. I laid there praying. I did crossword puzzles till 4 am, then read the rest of the 7 chapters of my book until I finally passed out around 5:45 am. I am now 98.9% convinced that I have a demon. A demon snake that's going to slither into my bed and into my mind and make me do weird scary things that will never allow me to be the same. A demon snake that will scratch it's long, gross nails (yes, my demon snake has nails. And he also has a grotesque half snake/half human body that can grab me and bite me and hoarsely whisper my name as I tremble in fear for my life) down the wall beside my bed and tap on my nightstand.

I can't believe Jeff forced me to see this movie. It's all his fault. Now I have a demon and only one arm with which to fight it off.

I'm going to have to work this weekend.

2009-10-08T14:10:00.000-07:00

I just know it. DAMNIT. I've never worked a Saturday before, particularly because our head teller wants the overtime and never lets anyone else work the weekends. How that's fair, I have no idea. Well, apparently, she doesn't want to work this coming up weekend because it's a holiday. Yeah. So guess who gets to work? ME!!! Yay! Now, I'm not complaining about working on a Saturday. Really, I'm not. I need the extra money. I'd be glad to split Saturdays with H.T. (head teller) every month. It's only from 9-1, so it's not an excrutiatingly long shift, just enough for an extra 80 bucks or so. But it's a long weekend. My niece is having a housewarming party Friday night and I wanted to celebrate heartily with my family, but nooo. I have to remain sober so I can drive home to get up at 7:30. I never have plans on the weekends, why do I have to work THIS weekend? Hmphf.

Moving on, last night Jeff and I went and had a little drinky and decided that from here on out our Christmas/birthday gifts to eachother were going to be under $20. I think that's a great idea. It makes for so much less stress during the holidays. And seeing as everyone I know will be getting a nice homemade cake or card from me this year, my finances may just stay healthy.
Yay!

Speaking of Christmas, I've been thinking lately about how my cousins and I have pretty much all grown up. It's really strange, but in a good way. I can remember the days when we would hate Greg for finding the buried treasure in Ninny's backyard when it was the "kid's treasure hunt." I can remember Jaime and Jess talking me into climbing up on the roof of the 37 churches that surrounded Ninny's house (ok, like, 2, but it seemed like many more). It's hard to believe that it's been over 10 years since we played like that. Now we're all grown up with jobs and classes and husbands and wives (well, only Jodi and Duane, but still...). Caitlyn just went off to college and that's totally bizarre to me, but at the same time, I know she's where she should be. Jodi has two children, and that in and of itself is mind-boggling, not because she isn't a good mother (she's wonderful), but because she's my cousin and she has two daughters that she takes to school everyday and raises. It's just bizzarre to me. Drew and Tanner are big football stars in middle school! My friend Rachel, who was Drew's teacher last year told me one day about how Drew was writing a note to his girlfriend breaking up with her. Drew has a "girlfriend!" I remember when he was 2 and a half feet tall running around with fishing nets. Insane!!! Seeing where life has taken us all is a very neat thing to watch, and I can't imagine what it must be like for my mother and her brother and sisters. They must feel oooooooooold. :)

A few things that I have learned from my family are...

1) I want a big family as well. While I am terrified to give birth to several children, I do want them to have lots of siblings and a big family when they grow up and start having kids themselves.
2) Psencik blood is thicker than water.
3) It takes strong women to raise strong women.
4) Politics and religion should N.E.V.E.R. be discussed with passionate family members who have varying opinions (and varying levels of intoxication).
5) The drunker we get, the louder we get, and no one will ever be louder than we are.
6) No one eats more dressing than me at Thanksgiving.
7) Jess cheats during the Amazing Race.

Crazy Crime Week

2009-10-01T13:42:00.000-07:00

So, it's been a pretty crazy week for the rehashing of old crimes. First, Susan Atkins (the despicable woman who murdered the pregnant Sharon Tate, and others) passed away with brain cancer, after having her appeal to be "compassionately released" due to her illness denied. And now I hear that Roman Polanski was finally arrested in Switzerland, though not on the charges of raping an underage girl. Hm.

Since I don't know all the details of the Polanski case, I'm going to decline to comment aside from this little snippet: If his arrest has anything to do with him finally taking responsibility for raping a 13 year old girl, then I hope he get what he deserves.

Moving on, I do have a few more opinions about Susan Atkins, who brutally murdered a pregnant, innocent, unarmed woman. Here is an extremely brief rundown of what happened. An upper-echelon member of the Manson Family, a cult began and led by Charles Manson, Susan Atkins was 19 when she began listening to the drug-fueled rants of the Family's leader. After being told to go with fellow members to the home of Roman Polanski and Susan Tate, she and her accomplices violently murdered every person in the house (a total of four). Eventually, she and her accomplices were caught and put on trial. At this trial, she taunted the courtroom audience by saying "You best lock your doors and watch your own kids..." She and the others were found guilty and sentenced to (death originally, but California removed the death penalty a few years later) life in prison. Over the course of her incarceration, she had nearly 11 parole hearings, at each of which, she was denied parole. During her nearly 40 years in prison, Susan found the Lord and began teaching Sunday School classes for other inmates. Upon being diagnosed with a brain tumor, she requested a "compassionate release" from prison so that she could spend her remaining days with her family (a request which was ultimately denied). Susan died on Sep. 24th, still in prison.

Ok. That wasn't as brief as I expected, but I tried. Anyway, this woman was a monster. I'm glad that she found solace in the Lord and spent some of her time in prison gathering others to do the same, but it was too little, too late. She murdered a pregnant woman. Seriously. And felt no remorse after doing so. She's lucky she lived a long, healthy life (getting married twice while in prison), receiving conjugal visits, 3 square meals a day, not working. That's more than Sharon Tate can say. I could really go on and on about this, but I won't. I personally don't like to think about it, but I just hope that the families of those that were murdered by Manson's followers someday find peace. That is all. For now.

Twenty Minutes Until Lunch

2009-09-30T10:41:00.001-07:00

I hope you enjoy the suspense of wondering whether or not I will keel over and die of hunger before I get to go on my lunch break in 20 minutes. You'll know I've died if a sentence ends abruptly.

Anyhoo. The roads in Houston are

Haha, just kidding. You thought it was all over, didn't you? Not so lucky this time. Moving on, as I was saying, the roads in Houston are horrendous. Considering the intense beatings my care receives on a daily basis, I'm amazed it hasn't fallen apart. I wonder if it's a problem if I am lightheaded after driving to work? Hm. Nah. The bit of road I am currently speaking of is the stretch of San Felipe between 610 and Chimney Rock. If you've been in the area lately, you know what I'm talking about.

New subject. Sometimes I wish I had a job doing manual labor. Nothing too difficult (like swinging a big hammer all day, no thank you), but something like gardening or landscaping. It would be nice to be outside everyday instead of cooped up in a sub-zero office cubicle. That's right, sub-zero. I sit beneath a giant (2 foot x 2 foot) air vent that blasts 54-degree gale force winds directly onto my shivering body. And I have this enormous window that lets me see people jogging down the street, taking a liesurely stroll, or walking their dog in the pleasant sunlight and cool breeze. The sun mocks me as it reflects off the building across from me, making me squint until after 1:00pm. That bastard. I guess I should stop complaining though. I have an air-conditioned room to sit in by myself all day, reading and doing my "budget," or surfin' the net. Yeah, I should probably be a wee bit more grateful for what I have. But I won't lose the dream!!!

Alright, so far, so good, only 10 minutes until lunch! Weeeeee! I'm considering going to the gym this evening. I know I should. If I ever have a shot at forcing Jeff into marital submission, I may have to lose a few pounds to trick him into thinking that if I look semi-decent, I'll look that way forever (not going to happen). I just hate going after work because it's so damned crowded. Also, I don't enjoy the girl that wears a only a sports-bra and stretch-y daisy dukes staring at me as I struggle with the machine she's waiting to use. I don't understand why she has to stand 3-feet away from me and stare. Why? I have 20 more reps, leave me alone. When I'm done, I'll move and then it's all yours! Jeez. Does anyone else have this problem? Also, the starer wears her hair down and is wearing make-up when she works out. I've watched her while I'm on the elliptical machine (this is starting to sound sort of creepy, I know, but she's a freak.) and she will stand in front of the mirror and re-pin her bangs out of her face, then check her mascara. It's sickening, I tell you!!!

Ok, well, I survived till lunch! I'm going to go eat now! Have a good day!

The "Budget"

2009-09-29T10:13:00.000-07:00

Recently, I took up "budgeting." I may or may not have had to look it up in the dictionary. Seeing as my "salary" is ramen noodles away from minimum wage, I figured I could probably do with some good money-management practices. Just so you know, I have never, ever, budgeted, aside from putting away money for weekend escapades. Oh, I've always paid my rent on time (except in college when I drank my rent money then made a mad dash to the plasma-donating center to prostitute my fluids for cash), and paid my bills, but beyond that, I pretty much just view the excess cash left in my checking account as a "fun times fund," never tossing back any extra for savings or emergencies. I know, responsible, that's my middle name.

However--I am now bound and determined to get my stuff straight. I may not make a ton of money, but the money I do have needs to stop disappearing faster than a cold front in Texas. So, in that light, I have created a master budget that will allow me to pay off ALL my debt by June (fyi, my debt includes one credit card and a car that's about 75% paid for). Granted, this means that my monthly spending allowance will be around $200 (if that, probably less), I figure come June, I'll have about $500-600 a month back in my pretty little pocket.

But until June, I'm going to be going through withdrawals. Until June I'm going to have to perform the excrutiating task of saying "no" to friends and family who want me to meet them out for a beer (unless they're paying for said beer, in which case, I will gladly accept). The task of not even walking into a Target. The task of not going out to eat Mexican food when I get the inevitable craving for complimentary chips and salsa. The task of buying the store-brand spicy mustard (which is NOT the same!) instead of the delicious super-horseradish-y brand that I usually get. The task of not getting within a 10-mile radius of a bookstore. Maybe I'll have to become one of those people I despise who sit in the bookstore all night reading books but never EVER actually buying them. Ugh. Assholes.

If you are a family member or close friend reading this, I apologize in advance for giving you a crappy Christmas/birthday gift. It will probably be something along the lines of:

a) a card I make with my own hands consisting of a single sheet of notebook paper folded in half with a nice little drawing on the front and a nice little note inside. Thoughtful, no?
b) a cake with 3/4 of the proper ingredients. Yum!
c) a plant or flower I dug up and stole from my apartment complex. Everyone loves getting flowers!!!

So, please accept my apology in advance. When I pay off all my debt, you may or may not get a better gift. (But probably not.)

Wish me luck!!!