Archive for the ‘Dramaticized Everyday Life’ Category

Why I will forever be single.

I have been in one relationship in my entire life, and it ended after three years when I realized that he simply wasn’t the man that I wanted to marry. Was there more to it than that? Yeah, but that all is besides the point. The point is, for the first time in my life, I am in a place where I can date. There are people of all kind, not just the mere 20 I went to highschool with (it was a small Christian school). But I’ve found an unfortunate thing.

See, I’m waiting until I’m married to sleep with anyone. Part of it is my old-fashioned morals, part of it is a desire to avoid disease and an accidental pregnancy, and part of it is a bit of hopeless romantic in me that wants to wait for my one true love. Sounds good right?

Apparently not. I was in a brief, uh, thing? with a guy for a couple of weeks, and it seemed great. I liked him, he liked me, we had a lot of common and our dates were really fun. And then I dropped that bomb on him, and he completely wrote me off. Sure, he still texts and said he wants to be friends, but the message was clear: if you are in a relationship, you owe the other person your body. And if you are unwilling to do that, they will move on to someone who is.

Granted, I could go to church and find a nice church boy, but I know from experience that they push the limits too, and generally, they aren’t very interesting or manly.

If that is what people expect out of relationships nowadays, fine, do what you will. I really don’t care, but I don’t want to be involved in it. But it’s terribly disheartening to know that it doesn’t matter how smart or funny or pretty or successful or interesting I am – if I don’t put out, I’m out.

I hope some guy appreciates me someday. I think I’ve got a lot going for me – I’ve mastered all the domestic arts, I have a college education in the nursing profession, I dabble in a range of interests, and can be happy inside or out. I play music, ride bikes, cooks delicious things, take photographs, grow plants, ride dirtbikes, and know how to do my hair effectively. Yet, no one seems interested.

Ah well. I guess my person is just going to turn out to be five cats.

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Laughter.

Laughter is good for the soul, you know? I think I’m going to end up living until about 130 years old because I laugh so much. Also, in a conversation with a friend, I realized that I never outgrew my overwhelming propension for doing stupid things that crack me up.

For instance, Today, knowing that one roommate was gone and another was going to be asleep for another couple of hours, I made it a point to sit on all the furniture in the house incorrectly, and only stopped when the combination of flopped over an armrest and laughing started to hurt.

A couple of days ago, I “broke up” with a guy I had been casually seeing because of irreconcilable differences, but I miss him. So when a song called, “Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop” came up on the radio (we had met at a coffeehouse), I actually threw my phone at the television. Luckily, I realized this was crazy and slowed the throw just before it left my hand, so my phone just kind of fell on the floor. And that cracked me up. So pathetic.

I was bussing at the restaurant I work at last night, and found out that I could sneak out the back door with dishes and run up the side alley to put them away without any customers seeing me. The wait staff did, and probably wondered what kind of crazy their boss hired this time, but I was enjoying myself.

I bought brake cables to fix my bicycle’s back brakes, which have been out of commission for several months now, but I like looking at the way they are wrapped up like a fancy bracelet too much to actually use them for their intended purpose.

And finally, my coffee maker thing messed up and dumped nearly all the grounds in my cup of coffee this morning, something that I did not notice until I did, in fact, swallow an entire mouthful of coffee grounds. I’m pretty sure I’m hearing colors right now.

My life is amusing.

Couch potato lifestyle.

First off, I could never be an actual couch potato – I don’t own a couch and I am in fact a human bean. So, that is out….

But in all seriousness, I just spent my entire measly paycheck on various medical supplies to offset my most recent bicycle crash, the pain that comes with logging 80 miles (!) in one week, and the arthritis like pain developing in my wrists and fingers due to excessive and hard restaurant work. If I were to lead a more sedentary lifestyle, I would probably be in less pain and would be more wealthy… but I would I be richer? What a lame life!

I’m really, really, REALLY glad that I can ride my bike and work such a stressful job and still be, for the most part, okay. I’m even more glad for days off to relax and let my body rest and heal.

You know is frustrating, though? I have a legitimate excuse to be a couch potato – I have a syndrome, and I still do things, regardless of the pain. Lots of people, many in my friend circle included, don’t have any problems except laziness, yet they refuse to capitalize on the fact that they, a. have strong healthy bodies, or b. could potentially have a strong, healthy body with a little work. ARGH. It frustrates me.

Anyways…. I gotta go chill. I’m going to gymnastics tonight.

Biking.

Somehow in the jumbled mess that is finals week, I managed to secure a job. Now, I have applied for tons of jobs and and off campus, and never seem to get any luck, so I broadened my scope and agreed to a job in Ann Arbor when it was offered. (Okay, I jumped enthusiastically and thanked the girl a million+ times. Agreed is a major understatement.)

So, we fast forward to Tuesday night, when the last table had been bussed, the restaurant was cleaned, and I had no more people to host. I headed over to the bus station and a feeling of dread creeped over me. The buses ran until about 11:30, which was fine on the weekdays, but on the weekends, they stop running at 6, leaving me stranded in Ann Arbor.

Here’s where another bit comes in – I don’t have a car. I don’t have money for a car. If I had money for a car, I wouldn’t have money for insurance and gasoline. IF I blah, blah, blah, you get it. And the thought of continually begging/mooching rides off my friends at 10:00 a night is an awful, terrible, no-good, very bad idea in my hyper-independent mind.

But I have a bike.

A janky bike, but a bike nonetheless. The back brakes don’t work well, and the seat will occasionally drop, leaving you hovering in mid-air and startled. It doesn’t change gears very well, and it’s sized for a thirteen year old, not a twenty year old with long legs. It’s banged up and scratched and dented because I crash frequently occasionally. But I love that it goes over bumps like they aren’t even a problem, and I can crunch down and put everything I’ve got into pedaling.

There is a link between Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti called the Border-2-Border trail, a hiking/biking/running/walking trail that will eventually go all the way across Washtenaw county. However, there is enough of it completed to get me from my home to Ann Arbor without ever having to go on a road or a potentially dangerous spot. So when my dear friend suggested that we bike to Ann Arbor because we had no more school and were young and wild and free, I agreed.

22 miles later, we pulled into our friend’s house to use his foam roller and other muscle-stuff and discuss our journey. We made it! And then we explored. And then we checked out the four mile loop around the rowing team’s section of the river, and pet little dachshunds out for a stroll. And then we headed back, which is when we started to realize that this may be too much for one girl running on 3 hours of sleep, and another girl with a stupid syndrome. With the cry of  “This is the second hardest part!” at every hardest part, we made it, the wind to our faces in both directions.

So, when public transportation and personal transportation fails, I will have my bike. I’ve already gotten some cracks about how Ill probably just crash, or how a daily 9 mile bike ride is too much, but really, there is no other option. I’m serious about this. Heck, I even got a bike helmet! (It’s blue! And looks incredibly stupid in the manner of bike helmets that are incredibly stupid)

You know what the best part about all this was? No pain. As of this year, I have been in pain every single day. My jaw. My hips. My knees. My fingers. My joints always hurts and they never get better… but a couple miles in, the pain transferred to my muscles and stayed there. I felt normal, like I could accomplish things, or be athletic, or not be held back by old person limitations. And the only thing that hurts today is the scrape from falling over a curb, the bruise from smacking a tree, the other bruising from catching my seat lever, the…..

Ahem. This summer will be a grand adventure that will leave me dead or with excellently developed leg muscles. Let’s hope for option #2, shall we?

Why I fail as a Computer Programmer.

grub> boot
Error 8: Kernel must be loaded before booting
Kernel? Like popcorn?
grub> find /boot/grub.stage1
(hd0,0)
Hmm. That’s probably useful somehow. I should remember that.
grub> Kernel /vmlinuz
What happens when I hit the tab but..OH MY GOSH.
{Cue half a page of numbers that make little to no sense}
Whoa.
grub> Kernel /vmlinuz-2.6.35.6-74.fc14.i686
Error 15: Unrecognized Command
Oops, missed a number
Error 15: Unrecognized Command
C’mon, I spelled it right you stupid…oh, wait, there’s the mistake
Error 15: Unrecognized Command
You know what? Now you’re just doing this on purpose you piece of crap. I may not be a computer science person, but I’ma nurse, dangit! I’ll figure you out.
Error 15: Unrecognized Command
Why does everyone have to be over right now? and playing Justin Beiber? And for the Fourth time, YES I’VE GOTTEN THE COME PLAY SOCCER TEXT. I HATE SOCCER. AND YOU.
grub> Linux you suck
Error 15: Unrecognized Command
grub> Linux Y U NO WORK
Error 15: Unrecognized Command
grub> Linux, you STEENK
Error 15: Unrecognized Command
One of these days, you’re going to be sick of being all, “Error 15”, and when that happens, we’re gonna brawl. I mean it.
grub> Kernel /vmlinuz-2.6.35.6-74.fc14.i686
tab.tab.tab.tab.tab.Shoot… Enter?
grub> initrd /initrd-plymouth.img
Why is my computer’s name plymouth? Am I doing this wrong? Ugh. I should have made friends with the computer geeks, but noooo, I wanted to play with the music people and the artsy people and blah, blah, blah oh my gosh what is it doing?
Superblock failed? Kernel panic? No kernel, don’t panic, it’s be okay! Stop it! Argh! bread failed? What? I thought this was computers?
grub> fsck
Error 15: Unrecognized Command
Stop Telling me that!
grub> /sbin/fsck
Error 15: Unrecognized Command
OKAY FINE. We’re through here. Don’t come crying to me when someone smart has to mercilessly rip out your hard drive. Jerk. You’re a jerk, computer.

On being a superhero

“The room she sat in was quiet, the silence only interrupted by the occasion slurp-and-sigh combination that accompanies an exceptional cup of coffee and the tic-tic-tic of typing on outdated pc keyboard. The girl’s table was covered with all manner of research and papers, and she swung her legs back and forth to the song in her head that was monopolizing all her current brainpower. Abruptly, she sighed and pushed the computer away. In the way of overworked and uninspired college students she slumped her head against her hand until her gaze came to rest on the equally tired clock. Her time had come, and with renewed vigor, she leapt from her chair, grabbed her pack, and dashed to the changing rooms down the hallway.

To the unknowing eye, she was another college student, albeit one with a strange hipster-schoolteacher sense of fashion and dress. She tripped a little bit as she walked, but regathered herself with as much dignity as possible before slipping away. However, once in place, the transformation began. Her mild-mannered collegiate self was replaced by woman with the no-nonsense pony-tail, distinct pressed uniform, and the steely slate-colored eyes of a Great White Shark that her job required. With her alter ego firmly in place, the girl walked out among her peers and collected her effects. She knew the coming challenge would test her, and that every turn would be another reason to fail, but she refused to admit defeat. Accompanied by her faithful stethoscope, and proudly displaying the patch of her establishment on her shoulder, she forged onward, intent on showing the day who would truly become the victor.”