Scrooge McDuck

I first met this guy through a friend. He was one of those quick with a joke and a light of your smoke type guys who always got your attention. He was a semi-professional water polo player (and you gotta love those abs), spoke three languages and was a successful banker. He had a tan all year round and bright green eyes. My kind of guy.

We had hung out a few times with friends before he asked for my number and then asked me out for date. Naturally, I was all excited and looking forward to a magical date with Mr. Perfect. We went out for dinner and had pleasant conversation. Everything was going well until the check arrived and then things went horribly wrong. He didn't have cash and his credit card didn't work. No problem, I say, it happens to the best of us, and so I casually and elegantly foot the bill.

Now I'm no feminist and I am a little old fashioned, I think the guy should pay, at the least for the first few dates. After that, I don't mind going dutch or taking turns. In my head, how a man handles the bill in the first few dates really shows how much of a penny pincher he really is, and my mama always said that the worst trait in a man being a scrooge. We have a saying where I come from that loosely translate to A miser with money is a miser with his feelings.

Anyhow, so like I said, I foot the bill and I told myself to give him another chance. He was just so cute. We went out on a second date. All is well and then the check arrives. This time he did some elaborate calculation to add how much he owed last time as well as this time and then leave me the rest of the check. It actually left me a little confused (he's banker and I'm bad at mental math). Bottom line, he didn't pay for me.

He was too damn cute to just let it go at that, so I went out with him several more times, treated him to various meals hoping he would get the hint, but nothing. Yup, he was Scrooge Mcduck himself, but still I felt the need to give him more chances. What happened, you ask. I'll tell you what happened. He blew me off. HE blew ME off! I couldn't believe it. The stingy bastard blew me off and I was left with my mouth gaping open wide in shock.

Although I don't admit this often, my mama was right...

No Blog Post Today

I'm too sick to be blogging today. I'm going to crawl right back into bed where I belong and see if I can sleep it off...

So here's a picture of my cats instead

Unforgiven - Metallica

Are we really masters of our actions? Do we really have much choice in what we do? More and more I get the feeling that we don't have any say in what we do or even think. Ever since we were young, we were taught to act in certain ways, think in certain ways, and anything that strays away from that is abnormal, is wrong. What makes us think that we are any different now that we're all grown up? And what happens when we start to question these norms, these beliefs? Will the pressure to conform be too much for us that we chose to turn a blind eye and just follow the herd? What if I don't want to be a part of the herd any longer? Can I handle it? Can I really just swim against the current and make my own way? Or will the pressure kill me so that I'm nothing more than just a vegetable?

New blood joins this earth
And quickly he's subdued
Through constant pained disgrace
The young boy learns their rules

With time the child draws in
This whipping boy done wrong
Deprived of all his thoughts
The young man struggles on and on he's known
A vow unto his own
That never from this day
His will they'll take away-eay

Chorus:

What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub thee UNFORGIVEN

They dedicate their lives
To RUNNING all of his
He tries to please THEM all
This bitter man he is
Throughout his life the same
He's battled constantly
This fight he cannot win
A tired man they see no longer cares
The old man then prepares
To die regretfully
That old man here is me

What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub thee UNFORGIVEN

Men and their Toys

Why is it so incredibly difficult to shop for a guy? My boyfriend's birthday is coming and I have been dreading this day for like six months because I have no idea what to get him. I called his brother and his best friend but somehow I've still got nothing. Okay, that's not entirely true, I don't have nothing, I have two ideas, both of which are equally difficult. One of them I know nothing about and so the research has been killing me, and the other one... well I think it's sort of tacky and it's kinda like my back-up plan if the first one falls through.

But seriously, why is it so difficult? With girls it's easy, buy her a dress, some jewelery, and you're good to go. And if you buy us electronic gadgets, well most of us wouldn't really know much about it, so we'll be happy and excited with whatever. We don't need super special specifications. And try to get a guy a high tech present, he'll immediately zoom in on the specifications that you didn't get and how a different model would've been better. It seriously sucks. Do they not know how difficult this is? The options are so limited and after a while, you'll really run out of ideas, seriously...

And my boyfriend is really annoying too, he won't tell me what he wants, and he won't let me ask for his opinion. He insists that it must be a surprise, he wants to know nothing about it and he won't even help me a little. I don't get it, why does it really have to be a surprise? Wouldn't it just be easier to get his opinion, that way he'll get something he likes and my life is made easier? But nooo... it can't be.

Well off I go to do more research on this present and he better like it.

Along Came a Spider

As I was driving home today I noticed a fairly large spider on my windshield and it made me smile. For some odd and bizarre reason I think seeing a spider is good luck and that got me wondering about the crazy superstitions we sometime have. I don't know why I believe spiders are good luck, but to me they just are. My mother has the strangest idea that if you clean after someone leaves to go on a trip, then that person will never return. So whenever I leave, I have to wait until she cleans the entire house so that she doesn't have to clean after. She has no explanation for this belief but it is so strong that she cannot get herself to change it, even though she is a very well educated doctor.

Superstition transcends all logic and rationality and it really makes me think about how rational we are. I know most of us like to believe that we are rational and that our thought process is logical, but we are not. We function mostly on instinct and things that we have learned as children. What are parents teach us become the norm and they become what's right. We don't think about the decisions we make everyday, because there are just so many of them. We don't question our beliefs because they have been so deeply rooted into our psyche that it doesn't even occur to us to question them.

What would happen if we did question them? How would we react if someone were to show us that what we believe is in, is utterly and completely wrong? Would we see or turn a blind eye?

Billy - Part 11

The old tavern crouched at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the ocean, a short, stocky building made of stone dulled by years of wind and rain. The waves collided with the rocks below forcefully trying to mold the rocks to their will, a battle that has been raging on for centuries. The tavern and the inn above it had been there for many years, unshakable and unyielding like the rocks they had been built upon. The wind was unrelenting as it hammered against the inn making the shutters rattle and the candles spit and splutter, but the people inside where oblivious. Those who came to the Mighty Fish did not mind the noise, or the wind, or the rain, it was the company that they sought. Frequented by only a few, the Mighty Fish was cozy and familiar. The barkeeper was a stout old man, barrel-chested with a deep, resonating voice. Beneath his bushy brows were small, beady eyes that darted nervously betraying the calm and steady movement of his hands as he cleaned the mugs that hung above the bar.

Two old friends sat at the back of room close to the fire. They were talking animatedly, swinging their mugs and spilling their ale in fits of laughter and mirth. In the midst of their laughter, the door to the tavern swung open with a crash and a small, childlike figure stormed in, fighting violently with his cloak and spitting out incomprehensible obscenities. The ale-drinkers were silenced as they watched, a person much too small to be causing such a commotion. He fumbled for a few more moments in anger and then looked up. Pointing a finger at the back of the room, he let out an angered screech and charged straight at the two men by the fire place, much too fast for anyone to stop them. He crashed into them turning over the table and their chairs, wrestling them to the ground into one giant heap of bodies and ale.

Hooters

Hooters in a nutshell is heaven for men, almost, just almost. There's only one thing missing. Good food, but despite the fact that the food sorta sucks, people still seem to go there.

Guys are generally oblivious to the tackiness of the place, they are simply blinded by the all the boobies that are just hanging all over the place. In fact, they don't even have to be large boobs at all, they just have to be a focus of attention. The same waitress could probably work at any other restaurant and not get a second glance, but because she's working at hooters, suddenly she's attractive and her boobs are interesting.

Is this chain of restaurants exploiting women? Of course it is. Is it exploiting men and their sexuality? Of course it is. I don't think there's anything particularly wrong with that, those who get exploited allow themselves to be and that's fine, that's their choice, but can't they at least serve good food? Can they not hire a good chef?

Like I said, it's almost heaven. It's got the three basic ingredients, boobs, sports and booze. The one thing it hasn't got is food. If they could get that right, we can send our men off to hooters whenever we need some alone time and everybody would be happy.

The Godfather

So this new position at work opened it and it's supposed to be this brilliant opportunity for anyone who can get it. It's a massive promotion and filled with that wonderful thing called responsibility and so you can imagine how things are at the office. It's just a bustle of activity with everyone running around and talking excitedly like they've just struck gold.

I've never been one for office politics and I usually like to stay as far away from that shit as possible, but considering that I'm in close proximity (and a possible candidate for this position), it's interesting to watch the kinda of shit that's happening. It's politics like I've never seen before, with coalition groups and everything. It's turning into a war zone and it's funny to see people who don't stand a chance forming up alliances with those who do, and those in turn are busy back-stabbing and under-mining each other. And the rumors... we mustn't forget the rumors that are an integral part of any office environment and no one is safe.

Lucky for me, I got prime seats to watch the show and even though I have no interest in the position, there's no need for them to know that. The way I see it, there's only one thing to do: Go to the mattresses.

Clemenza:

That Sonny's runnin' wild. He's thinking of going to the mattresses already.

Sonny:

No, no, no! No more! Not this time, consiglieri. No more meetings, no more discussions, no more Sollozzo tricks. You give 'em one message: I want Sollozzo. If not, it's all-out war: we go to the mattresses.

I am Not a Smoker

So my relapses into smoking are slowly making their way back into my life. I still haven't given up on quitting, but it's getting more and more difficult. I haven't bought a pack since "quitting" but I have bummed a few here and there from friends but it's making me feel more like a bum than anything else. Like I said, I haven't given up yet and I'm trying alternative methods to quitting now, like for example, I stare at myself in the mirror and say:

"I am not a smoker. I am not a smoker. I am not a smoker..."

I'm starting to wonder about my mental health, and I think it's about time if you ask me.

More on Long Distance

The toughest thing about a long distance relationship is finding the time to make it work. Life tends to get away from us sometimes and we get so caught up in everyday happenings that sometimes we don't even see friends who live in the same neighborhood. So how do you make it work when your in two different countries, or worse yet, two different continents?

It's really hard to fit time into our busy schedules and sometimes it just gets so frustrating. And the infinite number of misunderstandings that could occur because of lack of face to face communication... It just really sucks.

Sometimes I just don't know how to handle it, the constant loneliness, going to dinner parties alone and looking at other couples laughing together, holding hands, and touching each other affectionately. And as much as you try not to be jealous, you can't help yourself, which ultimately leads to further misunderstandings and further issues.

Sometimes it just gets too much...

Finding Nemo

He had been swimming for hours and still he was unable to stop. He had ventured too far away from his home, from the safe waters and he felt a chilling fear stir inside him, but he did not stop. There was another force driving him forward and giving him strength. A force so compelling that he could not give in to his fear, he could not let it take charge of him. Pushing it aside he continued moving, his tired little fins paddling away as fast as they could. He was determined to find his son and no matter how far and how dangerous the ocean waters were, he would keep on going.

Somewhere deep inside him, another fear began to surface, something different than the fear of the unknown and yet comfortably familiar. He felt a sense of panic run through him and his movements became frantic and strained. Will he ever find him? Or was he lost forever? And the guilt began to emerge, the dark face of guilt rising up in front of him in anger and in ridicule. He whimpered and prayed before it and he could feel himself losing hope, losing himself to its crippling hand. There was no signs that his search would be fruitful, but still he could not leave his hope behind. No, it was not hope. It was much stronger, a knowledge that he would find his son and bring him home and it was this knowledge that gave him strength, the strength he needed to calm his nerves and push down the panic and from this strength he attacked the guilty. He threw it down and cast it aside. The battle was gruesome but he triumphed in the end. Leaving behind his guilt and his fear, he sped on in search of his son

Redundancy...

I've realized how boring the corporate life is. I mean I knew it was boring, but today, it just really killed me. It's so boring that I don't even have anything to bitch about. After being stuck in meetings for most of the day (and if you've been reading this blog, you'd know how I feel about meetings) I had to sit through a long, long dinner with some random people that just really killed my whole day.

I think the biggest problem is that I just don't care anymore. I have nothing to bitch about because it doesn't matter to me at all. It should be a shame, but when I think of it, it's the best way to get made redundant (which I really want to happen anyway).

I've found out that there are tons of sites online giving step by step guides to being made redundant. Respect to all those people out there with the dedication to help those like me. I keep working on it and let you know how it works out...

BEWARE - Woman on PMS

Seriously, what's the deal with PMS? Why the hell do women have to suffer through that shit? I would like one reason, one reason, why PMS should exist in the first place because all it does is make women bitchy and cranky and miserable.

According to wikipedia, symptoms of PMS are:
More than 200 different symptoms have been associated with PMS, but the three most prominent symptoms are irritability, tension, and dysphoria (unhappiness).[1] Common emotional and non-specific symptoms include stress, anxiety, difficulty in falling asleep (insomnia), headache, fatigue, mood swings, increased emotional sensitivity

What it should really say is:
Step away from the monster, do not come anywhere near it or it can and will kill you.

or

Women should not make any plans. They should stay locked in their house and refrain from speaking to anyone.

That is taking to an extreme, although I think it's interesting that Orthodox Jews seem to be quite strict about this whole period thing. Apparently a woman needs to be pretty much separate from society for a total of approximately 14 days until it's over. I mean no touching anything, no sitting on anything, no handing something to someone, and of course, no touching someone else. Now that is extreme. Seriously people, it's not a disease, really it isn't, relax take it easy, you're not going to catch it you know.

I'm not a feminist myself, but I'd be very interested to know how feminists feel about that point in particular. Any feminists out there?

No Stress

I don’t wanna work today
Maybe I just wanna stay
Just take it easy cause there is no stress.
I know it’s not an awful crime
Something special in my mind
Nothing’s gonna cause me distress.
I text my baby on her phone
Try to get her Sexy body home
That’s the way I wanna spend my day
Got to find an alibi
Cause I don’t wanna waste my time
I don’t wanna feel this stress.
It’s not that I’m lazy
I think I’m just crazy
It’s not that I’m lazy
I think I’m just crazy
It’s not that I’m lazy
Think I’m just crazy
It’s not that I’m lazy
I’m just crazy

[instrumental]

No stress

[instrumental]

I think I’m just crazy
No need to fight against my feelings
Because the life is not depressing
No need to fight against my feelings
Because the life is not depressing

[instrumental]

No stress
Oohoo

Boobs or ass?

I know, I know, I'm a girl, what the hell do I know about boobs and ass (females asses that is) but I do have a theory. Since I've always been one of the guys, I've spent enough to time to notice that there are some guys who are ass guys and others are boob guys. Don't get me wrong, all guys like boobs and ass, but there is always, always a preference. No guy likes both equally, one always wins over.

You got guys like Sir Mix-a-lot would made it blatantly clear where his interests lie, whereas the average guy is generally a little more subtle. The question is how to find out which guy is which? I have no scientific answer for that question, but I'm sure all girls would know if they paid attention. Guys are not as subtle as they like to think they are. Girls can always tell when a guy is trying to look down her shirt and she feels her eyes boring holes in her behind as she gets up to go to the bathroom to freshen up.

The point is, whatever you got, it's good. There's no such thing as boobs that are too big or too small, or an ass that's too big or too flat. There are guys there for everyone and every body type and the guy who likes your body type will find you. Very few women have it all and usually these woman can afford a personal trainer and dietitian, or at one extreme a good doctor. But they'll end up with someone who appreciates one of their assets more than the other and would be money and time ill-spent.

Be satisfied with what you've got, someone will think you're beautiful and really, all you need is just one person to think that way, all the others don't matter...

Lego

When I was a kid, I loved taking things apart and putting them back together again. Of course I wasn't always successful (sorry dad about the VCR) but it was fun nonetheless. I still like taking things apart and fixing them (and I've always wanted to be a mechanic, is it too late?) but what is the story with organizational restructuring? It's like someone is sitting there at the top thinking "well, everything seems to be working fine and I'm starting to become completely useless so they might fire me soon. I best start taking apart something and put it back together to look busy..." Seriously, it's just too much and too soon.

The company I work for has had a major restructuring every year and a half for past six years. This is just getting ridiculous. They just keep moving people around, giving departments different names and just make everything more stressful than it already is for everybody. Seriously, what is up with that? What's the point of making a change if they don't give it enough time to see if it's successful or not? Why do they insist on making everyone uncomfortable and reduce productivity by having everyone worry about their jobs? Why take away their security? Isn't that one of the basic needs from Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs? That's just OB 101.

But that's not what really bothers me... What really bothers me is that they keep everything a secret. They say that they encourage transparency but it's all a sham. I'm certain they have a huge master plan with a bunch of changes that they want to make and this might be some big 5-year or 10-year plan. This is not just some haphazard, random action. This has been thought out and has been calculated. Why don't they just come out and say it right from the start? Why don't they say, well this year, we're planning on reducing staff by 20% and then we going to move you all around to have a fun game of musical chairs. In two years time, we'll have further reductions in staff by 10% and then by the fourth year, we'll find that we're understaffed and we'll need to hire around 15%. Why can't they just be honest and upfront about their plans, no matter how horrible, insensitive and greedy they? If we're working for a corporation, we shouldn't be naive enough to think that they're not any of these things.

Why can't they be more like Satan, at least he's honest....

ps. I just love pic, it's one of nathan sawaya's sculptures. You should totally check out his website http://www.brickartist.com/

Creative Writing Assignment 2 - Metamorphosis

I am becoming the moon. I always knew this day would come. It is my destiny like it was the destiny of my sisters, to leave this body of flesh, bones and blood behind. My time on this earth was short, much too short and as I stare at the dying moon above me I know that my time is near. I have loved this body that has been my home with all its faults, with all its imperfections. The jerky, uncalculated movements no longer bother me, I have learned to control them. I have learned to be selfish and unyielding like other mortals, I understand their fears and I share them. Their lust is my own and now I must give it all away. I must shed away this skin and rise to sky where I belong. As the sliver in the sky slowly disappears I start to feel my skin tingle and I shiver with what that feeling means. I walk towards to the pond before me and immerse my feet in the cold water. I can see the ripples spread across its surface just as the moon above disappears completely from sight. I can feel my body start to turn cold and somewhere deep inside me, inside this mortal body, I start to feel afraid. My chest begins to tighten and I can feel my breathing become short and labored. My mortal end is near. The feeling fills me with such sorrow and dread as I stand unmoving, my feet firmly planted in the watery grave. I feel the water seeping into my skin and travel up the length of my body, mixing with my flesh, dissolving it and as I look down at my nakedness I can see my skin start to glitter, its earthly color turning to the brightest of silver. Quickly, much too quickly, I see my body melt away into the pond and becoming sparkling ripples across the surface. The sorrow inside me overwhelms me and I wish to scream but I have lost the ability to speak. As the last of me vanishes a final ripple disturbs the surface and with it, I rise to the sky, a white crescent, dimmed with mourning and sorrow and once again the pond settles, its waters undisturbed.

2 a.m.

You know when it you're at the point where you mind no longer thinks? Where you're just drawing a complete blank and you're too tired to even pick yourself up and go to bed?

That's how I feel after a long day at work, driving around, getting stuck in traffic and going out.

So before my eyes close, I'm just going to log out and go to bed.

Nighty, night

Vultures

You know when you've been sitting there and waiting for you big break? When you know that you have talent and you have what it takes to be great and it's that one opportunity that's going to make or break you? It's a horrible, horrible feeling.

The only feeling that's worse is when you see that opportunity right before your eyes and you're just about to snatch it up and then someone just takes it away from you. They come in and just stomp all over your dreams and leave you feeling frustration and depressed.

That's what happened to a good friend of mine today. She was born to be a singer, her voice is the voice of angels and the talent she has is just incredible. How she has not become famous yet is a matter of that opportunity that never seems to come. Today that opportunity came knocking on her door and just as she was about to wrap her hands around it so delicately and cradle it close to her heart, some b*tch came along and stole it away, and not because she wanted it, but because she didn't want her to have it.

I hate these people. I hate dream-killers. They are the worst kind of people because they feed on our hopes and dreams. They devour them and spit them out just for the fun of it. They are the scavengers of the world, the vultures of our society.

Justice at Office

Our HR manager is a fat blob. All she does is sit on her ass all day. There's very little work going on in that two person department of hers and every single time she sends an email, five minutes later there's another email being sent to correct the first one. It's a shame really that someone like her gets a corner office and big bucks when all she is, is a waste of perfectly good space. And why am I talking about the HR manager today? Well, this morning, she went for her usual stroll and passed by our department, real lazy-like, taking her sweet time dragging all the fat around. Generally our office is one of those open floor plan type offices, where everybody kinda sits with everybody. I mean I get the appeal of it but sometimes it gets pretty noisy, especially when all the sales people are in the office and the customer service guys are getting frustrated with all the callers. The noise can really be overwhelming and for some odd reason, we're not allowed to put our headphones on to listen to music (which we're only doing to drown out the noise really), apparently it's unprofessional (why is that?)...

Anyway, back to the HR manager. She comes by this morning, bright and early and starts to talk about the employee engagement survey and the specific results for our department (the part where it says that we are all unmotivated). It wasn't an in depth conversation or anything, it was just a general what's happening type thing, and she was surprised to see that we think the company doesn't treat everyone fairly. She says that this company is one of the fairest companies out there. No, you don't say? Really? Well maybe that's because you're one of the few who actually benefit from the system. You think it's fair because you get all you want from it and you don't really see that all us little people don't get anything. If this company is fair, then how come the turnover rate is so damn high?

The whole department thought it was pretty funny actually and it just really showed how out-of-tune management is, but then again the seed of dissatisfaction has really set in and we're like breeding ground for the demotivation disease. It won't be long before we pull the rest of them with us and eventually management will feel it too. They can't hide away for too long and the HR manager will be the first, all that weight must slow her down.

Pavlov's Dog

So the Employee Engagement Survey results are out for this year and management are having a ball. There has been apparently an improvement in this year's scores and employees think that management is much more effective this year. Whoop-di-do. It is of course worthy to note that the employees are less engaged however than last year. Does that mean people like the management but they don't like working for the company? Perhaps they feel like the company is hoarding away all this wonderful money and they aren't sharing the wealth. Why is it that when times are bad a company expects its employees to “understand” and put up with salary freezes but when times are good, targets are always so elusive that you never get paid out a bonus? One of the questions on this survey is “My manager involves me in setting my targets”, sure my manager involved me. She asked me if I thought it was too ambitious and when I said yes, she disagreed and the target was set the way she wanted it. It's nice that they ask for my opinion and it's also nice to know that it means nothing. Sometimes I wonder why they even bother, but I can understand that they want to get it through my thick head that I'm just another machine and that I'm not entitled to an opinion. Instead of just letting me be, they just insult my intelligence. Yes that's so much better, that'll teach me not to have an opinion again.

And like Pavlov's dog, if it's done enough times I will learn to jump when they tell me to jump. Next time my boss says jump, I'll say how high. We're all their bitches and that's just the way of the world. If I don't like it, I can pack my shit and get the hell out of there. They'll be a new girl just like me sitting my seat in no time and since she'll be new, she'll probably be much more productive anyway. Don't get too excited though, it's only a matter of time till her souls withers away and she becomes a disgruntled mediocre performer, just like me. And Pavlov would be proud.

Sexual Frustration

Like I said before, I'm taking this creative writing class. It's a small class, a total of 8 people I think, all women except for one man. I'm not sure if he feels a little out of place, but he's a friend of mine and if I know anything about him, is that he likes these kinds of odds (just thought I'd put this out there in case your reading this K. Will you feel uncomfortable next class?)

Anyway, so today's class was interesting-ish and we did all sorts of tasks to take us out of our comfort zones and even though the majority didn't really try to be very adventurous, it was overall useful but that's not the point. This post is not about how this class will add to my writing skills, or how after it I'll be able to write a best-seller (or at least end up as a blog of note, how do I go about doing that anyway?), the point of this post is sexual frustration (yes the title is correct) and how it comes out in the most inopportune moments (or opportune moments, depending on how you look at it).

I'm sure we've all been victims of this terrible, terrible disease and we've seen it manifest itself in ugly ways, like the single female boss who's always bitchy, you know why that is, or the guy who just pounces on the first girl who walks into the door and follows her around like a dog with his tongue sticking out. Yup, it's sexual frustration.

So there's this girl in writing class who seems to be one of those quiet people. She's very friendly and always smiling and she seems like fun. There's some sort of innocence about her like is quite refreshing. Of course, I was slightly dumbstruck when she read the piece she was working on. It was a very well written piece to be honest, but it was just oozing sex and not just any sex, no, it was the desperate, I'm going to pull my hair soon if I don't get laid sex. Damn girl, you really need to go out and get some before you completely snap! Seriously...

But what do you do really, when you can't get any? How do you really manage when you have no choice but to stay celebate?

How much did you say?

Don't you just love it when everything is on sale and any price could be a good price? Of course, the only problem with that is you never know when you're being cheated. What I really like about things like flea markets is the difference between the initial price and what you end up paying. I spent the day at the old market place with friends from out of town and haggling was the theme of the day. Some of the initial prices were absolutely ridiculous and I'm talking four or five times what ended up paying.

What I don't understand is, don't they have a better chance at making a reasonable profit if they started at a more reasonable price? I don't know about you, but when I hear a price that is reasonable, I'm less willing to haggle, because let's face it, haggling is a pain in the ass. It's just really annoying, the back and forth, it's frustrating and it's boring. At some point, I had completely lost interest in what I wanted to buy in the first place. I wouldn't have taken it even if they had given it to me for free.

I wonder really how much profit they really make, how much are they ripping us off exactly?

Unverbing - Creative Writing 1

So I'm taking a creative writing class and this is my first assignment. I don't get it and I'm kind of losing the point of it.


She felt pieces of her fall to the ground and she wished she could undrop them. She longed to unwither under the heat of the sun. She wished she could unweep the tears and unspend all the moisture that had been lost. She wanted to unbreak back to when she was whole. She wanted to be unfallen and stand straight again like she used to. She was unclosed and undark looking up to the sun. Now she knew she was dying and she wished to unknow it. She remembered it all. She remembered being unscared of the sun but now she unbasked in its glow. She was unbent and the petals unopened. She unballed into herself. She unrose from the ground slowly, ungrowing in the ground, shrinking. She unedged from the soil and unwelcomed herself back into her seed.

Edible Undies...

Now I got your attention, don't I? I would really be interested to know how many hits this post gets :)

So I did some research on the subject of edible undies and found that apparently People Magazine listed it among the 434 names and events that define pop culture. Now that's interesting.... How many people out there use edible underwear? And I mean actually use it, not just buy it as a gag gift...

I've personally never worn edible undies and I'm little unsure about how they work. Don't they get too sticky? Are they even good to eat? Are they even enjoyable? Wouldn't it be easier to just take off the undies, get a can of whip cream and go for it?

For those out there who have the time and the patience, there are sites that give a step by step guide to making home-made edible underwear. This is perhaps appropriate for those stay at home mom's who need a little entertainment now then..

I say go for it. Enjoy :)

Tears

Why is it that I feel so tired after I cry? There's an exhaustion that is very distinct after a sob session and somehow I'm not sure whether or not I feel better. They say it's important to let it all out and that there is some relief when a person cries, but all crying does is make me feel exhausted and sorry for myself, which usually, inevitably leads to more tears. There are times when I'm so overwhelmed with everything that I feel like I need to cry to let it out, but I always regret it later.

The associations we make when we are children are hard to get rid of. I grew up with boys and of course boys never cry. Not being a boy myself, it was okay for me to cry, but it also highlighted me as a girl and made it more difficult for me to play with them.

I cried today and I feel completely spent. My tears have meant nothing and have solved nothing. It was all in vain.

Productivity

There won't be a blog post today. I'm overwhelmed with frustration and annoyance that makes it impossible for me to write. I've been told that a writer should write all the time, that waiting around for inspiration is really procrastination and there is no good or bad time for writing, but today is just one of those days, like going to work and being completely unproductive. This is exactly what I'm doing. It's like sitting at my desk with all my excel files open and I'm doing nothing more than playing minesweeper or surfing the internet. I'm putting on a charade of being productive.


Do I look productive to you?

Untitled 2

The sun was slowly setting on the ancient city. The end of another hot summer day. It was mid August and the air was damp with humidity. The temperature was slowly dropping but still not low enough to be cool. The streets were filled were cars, the honking of their horns and their exhaust fumes, giving rise to the everlasting smog that hovered over the city. Pedestrians roamed the highways adding to the chaos and completely oblivious to the cars that sped on by. The cars didn’t seem to notice them either. Everything seemed to work in some form of ordered chaos.

The city graveyards lined a great portion of the highway but the dead were not disturbed by traffic or the noise, life is for the living, after all. It was in this graveyard that he lay sleeping. The sun continued to descend, and he stirred in his sleep. The sun had painted the sky colors of deep purple, red and orange, and then disappeared behind the horizon. As the night fell upon the city, he tossed and turned in his bed. Soon, he told himself. Soon it would be time for him to wake and breathe again. Lamps all around the city lit up, and a cool breeze found its way to his bed. It wafted in through the crack in the ceiling, and he felt it bite into his flesh. He lifted his head up, and sniffed at the night air. It was dark outside and he knew it. He smiled and thought of the possibilities that lay ahead. He got up from his resting place and left the room. It was time for him to live again.

He hovered outside the grave he occupied for awhile, enjoyed the cool night air, oblivious of the unbearable heat of the day. It was a nice night and he smiled. Yes, tonight would be a good night, he thought. He lazily wandered through the graves. He always liked to be around the dead, he felt comfortable around them. They did not pose a threat to him and he felt no fear, only a sense of sadness. All those bodies lying there lifeless, they could’ve been his. But alas, he did not get there in time, he thought. It didn’t matter, the city was filled with living flesh and blood awaiting his discovery. He remained in the graveyard a few moments longer, and then took off to the heart of the city where life filled the air.

More on Pablo Picasso

Pablo Picasso said:

Never permit a dichotomy to rule your life, a dichotomy in which you hate what you do so you can have pleasure in your spare time. Look for a situation in which your work will give you as much happiness as your spare time.

My question is, how many people actually manage that? How many people out there actually love what they do? All around me I look and I see very few people who do and that is really a crying shame. I am ashamed for all of us out there that have let our dreams get too far away that they seem like a distant star that we could never reach. Shame on us all.

I get it, I get it, there are mouths to feed and there are bills to pay, but how can we manage to do both? How can we tighten our belts and forgo some of those luxuries so that we can follow our dream and reach our full potential?

This dichotomy that a lot of us have permitted to rule our life, how can we overthrow it? How can get out of the endless spiral of living day by day, slaving away at jobs we hate, and hope and dream that one day, one day, we'll be that rock star, we'll be that astronaut, that painter? How much courage does it take to say to the world that we are different? We are special?

Because that is what we are, special, in every sense of the word. Of course not all of us, there are the occasional overly mundane individuals with no imagination whatsoever, but they're there for a reason. They're there to make us feel more special, to realize just how special we are. See, they're not a complete waste of space...

Smoke anyone?

Given my recent nicotine deprivation and my half-hearted attempt to break my bad habit, I've turned to the one and only possible solution, smoking a waterpipe (or hookah, shisha, nargeela, call it what you like). Of course effectively what I've done is replace one addiction with another, but my logic is, I can't carry it around with me, so I'll be smoking less of it anyway.

Unfortunately, this logic doesn't really hold true. Although a slightly more expensive habit, I've managed my way around it and have effectively changed my life around. I no longer frequent places that do not have it, I sit more often at home smoking it, and really, I think smoking cigarettes would be better. I could smoke a pack of cigarettes a day and feel great, but after smoking a waterpipe, I feel drowsy and out of breath. Why is that anyway? I know that what's in it is nothing but tobacco, but why does it have that numbing effect? And why can't I have that numbing effect with cigarettes?

And what's wrong with having a few vices anyway? Who wants perfect? It's our imperfections that make us human and special..., isn't it? Why don't they just find the perfect person and make clones out him and that'll be the end of it?
It's all the damned do-gooders that are taking the fun out of everything. No I will not give up the waterpipe, I have to have something, I need something....

Technology

Originally, I had an idea about what I wanted write today but after having sat here for the past hour struggling with technology I've decided to just bitch about that. My boyfriend managed to convince me to install linux on my laptop and since I'm really not that tech-savvy and I don't really use any programs that require windows, I willingly agreed. So far, I've been happy with it, except that now I'm trying to install the simple things like MSN and Skype and I'm failing miserably. It feels like I'm studying Chinese. It shouldn't be this difficult. I've had some education after all but somehow I just don't get it. Why isn't it working the way I want it to?

Technology is supposed to make our lives more simple, to make it easier, but for the simple minded folk like myself, it is completely frustrating. Why isn't there some kind of simple manual for this stuff? And I'm not talking about the help button, it is completely useless. I want something simple that caters to my laziness as well...

I'm starting to think that my boyfriend wanted this. He wanted me to get lost with all this technology business so that I'd have to run to him for help. It's all part of his master plan to keep me with him. Damn his scheming mind....

(Yes I do realize how twisted that sounds, and yes I do think the world is out to get me...)