Checking out wordpress.
I'm scared. All this technology and shit.
I wonder if Jerm-ee would get mad if I called the Messenger about Wordpress?
::insert evil laugh::
6/06/2007
6/04/2007
Eight random facts...
I got tagged by the Boss Lady to write eight random facts about myself. Let's see how incredibly random we can get after playing solitaire for two hours.
http://newscoma.wordpress.com/2007/06/04/okay-i-like-mike-rowe-shut-up/
1. Everyone knows that I'm a bookworm. Well, duh. But no one knows that reason why I'm a bookworm is because I read entirely too fast. Mom bought me a book on Sunday. It's 400+ pages. I began reading it at 1 p.m. I was done by 3:30 p.m. It all started when I taught myself to read at the age of 3 by picking up the dictionary and just started reading.
2. My cell phone is slowly dying. I charge my cell phone up every night for 8 hours, and fully charged, I have about 15 minutes of talk time before it goes dead. Oh, and some of my buttons stopped working. Sad thing is that I've had this piece of shit phone for less than a year.
3. I don't watch a lot of television. I've never seen some of the most popular shows ever. I've never seen Lost, Grey's Anatomy, Seinfeld, Friends, 24 or any other show that the entire world is talking about. Mainly because I have an attention span the size of a goldfish, and I lose interest in any show after 5 minutes. However, I do drive everyone crazy by watching two shows at the same time.
4. I'm an insomniac. I constantly wake up during the night and can't get back to bed. Most nights I get about 3 hours of sleep. It's not because I'm not tired. On the contrary; I'm thoroughly exhausted. I can't sleep, because there's not a ctrl-alt-delete command for my brain. I'm constantly thinking about what I have to do the next day.
5. When I'm really engrossed in something that I'm typing, I sit in the chair with my head sideways. It looks like I'm one of those babies that don't have the muscles to keep my head up, and my head just flops to the side. So if you ever see me at a computer with my head resting on my shoulder and I'm furiously typing, don't disturb me. I'm on a roll.
6. Since graduating college, I've put up my day planner, because it stopped at the end of May. However, I now realize how much I depend on the damn thing and am going through withdrawals. I work constantly by a list that's either in my head or on a piece of paper. If I don't get a planner soon, my head will explode.
7. I wish it was cold all year long so I could live in my hoodies. In the winter, I wear the same 5 hoodies over and over again. There's something about a hoodie that makes you all snuggly inside. Oh, and I hate summer. Loathe it. The humidity is a bitch, and I feel like when I step outside, I'm walking through the 9th level of Hell.
8. I like history. Any history. All history. I like autobiographies. I think the next book I will splurge on will be Ronald Reagan's diary that's being published. I'm not a Republican and I'm not a Democrat, but damn, haven't you always wanted to read someone's diary?
Well folks, that my eight. Now I have to tag eight people. That's the way this game works. If someone tags you, you have to write 8 random facts and then tag 8 people to suck into this never-ending vicious blog cycle.
Will York
Pope
Jay Baker
Matt Cook
Sara Mac
Okay, seriously, I don't know eight people who read my blog. You're getting five. Deal with it.
http://newscoma.wordpress.com/2007/06/04/okay-i-like-mike-rowe-shut-up/
1. Everyone knows that I'm a bookworm. Well, duh. But no one knows that reason why I'm a bookworm is because I read entirely too fast. Mom bought me a book on Sunday. It's 400+ pages. I began reading it at 1 p.m. I was done by 3:30 p.m. It all started when I taught myself to read at the age of 3 by picking up the dictionary and just started reading.
2. My cell phone is slowly dying. I charge my cell phone up every night for 8 hours, and fully charged, I have about 15 minutes of talk time before it goes dead. Oh, and some of my buttons stopped working. Sad thing is that I've had this piece of shit phone for less than a year.
3. I don't watch a lot of television. I've never seen some of the most popular shows ever. I've never seen Lost, Grey's Anatomy, Seinfeld, Friends, 24 or any other show that the entire world is talking about. Mainly because I have an attention span the size of a goldfish, and I lose interest in any show after 5 minutes. However, I do drive everyone crazy by watching two shows at the same time.
4. I'm an insomniac. I constantly wake up during the night and can't get back to bed. Most nights I get about 3 hours of sleep. It's not because I'm not tired. On the contrary; I'm thoroughly exhausted. I can't sleep, because there's not a ctrl-alt-delete command for my brain. I'm constantly thinking about what I have to do the next day.
5. When I'm really engrossed in something that I'm typing, I sit in the chair with my head sideways. It looks like I'm one of those babies that don't have the muscles to keep my head up, and my head just flops to the side. So if you ever see me at a computer with my head resting on my shoulder and I'm furiously typing, don't disturb me. I'm on a roll.
6. Since graduating college, I've put up my day planner, because it stopped at the end of May. However, I now realize how much I depend on the damn thing and am going through withdrawals. I work constantly by a list that's either in my head or on a piece of paper. If I don't get a planner soon, my head will explode.
7. I wish it was cold all year long so I could live in my hoodies. In the winter, I wear the same 5 hoodies over and over again. There's something about a hoodie that makes you all snuggly inside. Oh, and I hate summer. Loathe it. The humidity is a bitch, and I feel like when I step outside, I'm walking through the 9th level of Hell.
8. I like history. Any history. All history. I like autobiographies. I think the next book I will splurge on will be Ronald Reagan's diary that's being published. I'm not a Republican and I'm not a Democrat, but damn, haven't you always wanted to read someone's diary?
Well folks, that my eight. Now I have to tag eight people. That's the way this game works. If someone tags you, you have to write 8 random facts and then tag 8 people to suck into this never-ending vicious blog cycle.
Will York
Pope
Jay Baker
Matt Cook
Sara Mac
Okay, seriously, I don't know eight people who read my blog. You're getting five. Deal with it.
"Condemned killer wants to go out with joke"
http://www.cnn.com/2007/LAW/06/04/execution.jokes.ap/index.html
You can read the story yourself, but the gist of the story is that a man on death row in Texas wants his final words to be a joke.
Some people consider telling a joke insensitive to the victims he murdered.
I can see where people would think this is insensitive. It appears to anyone watching that he's not the least bit remorseful about the crimes he committed. However, while a part of me is a bit weirded out by telling a joke, another part of me can't help but to tilt my head to the side and think about why a man wants the last sound he hears to be, hopefully, a laugh.
I highly doubt anyone will laugh. But I also think people who apologize and make excuses for the crimes before they are executed are just as insensitive. No amount of "I'm sorry." and other cliches' will ease the pain of the victim's family.
But what's even more sickening is that the killer is getting free publicity to solicit jokes. I think with the idea of telling a joke and the media picking up the story, he's received exactly what he wanted.
A voice he wouldn't otherwise have.
The situation is highly insensitive to the victims and their families, and, in some aspects, very vulgar. On the other hand, the idea that a killer wants to tell a joke before he dies is somewhat...intriguing.
Now, the question is, will the "powers that be" allow the killer to say the joke? If they don't, it's going to be a hell of a free speech debate.
You can read the story yourself, but the gist of the story is that a man on death row in Texas wants his final words to be a joke.
Some people consider telling a joke insensitive to the victims he murdered.
I can see where people would think this is insensitive. It appears to anyone watching that he's not the least bit remorseful about the crimes he committed. However, while a part of me is a bit weirded out by telling a joke, another part of me can't help but to tilt my head to the side and think about why a man wants the last sound he hears to be, hopefully, a laugh.
I highly doubt anyone will laugh. But I also think people who apologize and make excuses for the crimes before they are executed are just as insensitive. No amount of "I'm sorry." and other cliches' will ease the pain of the victim's family.
But what's even more sickening is that the killer is getting free publicity to solicit jokes. I think with the idea of telling a joke and the media picking up the story, he's received exactly what he wanted.
A voice he wouldn't otherwise have.
The situation is highly insensitive to the victims and their families, and, in some aspects, very vulgar. On the other hand, the idea that a killer wants to tell a joke before he dies is somewhat...intriguing.
Now, the question is, will the "powers that be" allow the killer to say the joke? If they don't, it's going to be a hell of a free speech debate.
6/03/2007
Ahhh...
I and some of the ladies and the resident male down at the WCP went to the lake this weekend. It's funny how you become relaxed when you're surrounded by water. When the lines on the road disappear, the worries in your head disappear, too.
A lot of my friends would have found it horrifying. No television, no internet, and no cell phone service. I didn't notice that I didn't hear one phone ring until we were back in Paris and our cell phones sounded like a heart monitor.
I had the chance to try out my new camera that I bought. I'm sure people became annoyed that I took almost 80 pictures, but when you have that great of a time, you want to remember it.
I'm also happy to say that I saw the sunrise for the first time in my life. Before Saturday morning, I was either working before sunrise or didn't get up until after sunrise. You begin to feel really small when you can literally see the sun move across the sky and the red sun rays shoot across the water.
You may ask yourself how a proclaimed night owl can watch the sunrise.
Simple. Don't go to bed.
After watching the sunrise and every male within a 100-mile radius load his boat into the water, I ate the best breakfast I had eaten in a long time. The food reminded me of the way Pa-Pa fixed breakfast, and the restaurant reminded me of how my Pa-Pa's store looked back when all I had to worry about was which candy bar I would eat and how long I could lay next to my old dog in the grass and not get in trouble.
After watching the day start and starting day with good food, we tiptoed through the lake house and went to bed at 7 a.m. We didn't wake up until noon after everyone had left for home. I didn't want to go, but I knew I couldn't stay.
I drank entirely too much, laughed entirely too loud, and smiled entirely too big.
It was a great time, and hopefully, we'll make it back up there sometime soon.
Check out my documented proof of smiling, happy journalists, a roaring fire, and a perfect sunrise at http://www.flickr.com/photos/7753113@N05/
A lot of my friends would have found it horrifying. No television, no internet, and no cell phone service. I didn't notice that I didn't hear one phone ring until we were back in Paris and our cell phones sounded like a heart monitor.
I had the chance to try out my new camera that I bought. I'm sure people became annoyed that I took almost 80 pictures, but when you have that great of a time, you want to remember it.
I'm also happy to say that I saw the sunrise for the first time in my life. Before Saturday morning, I was either working before sunrise or didn't get up until after sunrise. You begin to feel really small when you can literally see the sun move across the sky and the red sun rays shoot across the water.
You may ask yourself how a proclaimed night owl can watch the sunrise.
Simple. Don't go to bed.
After watching the sunrise and every male within a 100-mile radius load his boat into the water, I ate the best breakfast I had eaten in a long time. The food reminded me of the way Pa-Pa fixed breakfast, and the restaurant reminded me of how my Pa-Pa's store looked back when all I had to worry about was which candy bar I would eat and how long I could lay next to my old dog in the grass and not get in trouble.
After watching the day start and starting day with good food, we tiptoed through the lake house and went to bed at 7 a.m. We didn't wake up until noon after everyone had left for home. I didn't want to go, but I knew I couldn't stay.
I drank entirely too much, laughed entirely too loud, and smiled entirely too big.
It was a great time, and hopefully, we'll make it back up there sometime soon.
Check out my documented proof of smiling, happy journalists, a roaring fire, and a perfect sunrise at http://www.flickr.com/photos/7753113@N05/
5/31/2007
Hmmm...
The Grad Tab came in today, and I'm beating myself up over it. I looked through it and found a million things wrong with it. I could have done this or that or changed this or that. I'm generally beating myself up over it in my head.
Not a lot of people know that I went through a deep, horrifying depression last year around this time. It was scary, because it was the worst I have felt mentally and emotionally in a long time. I caught myself many times looking at the medicine cabinet and telling myself in my head that if all else failed, I had two bottles of pain pills that could make me feel better. All at once. If you get my drift.
Somehow, I was able to pull myself out of it. Without any help from anyone or any medicine. In fact, only one person knew how bad it really was. The worst part of all this was while I was feeling really down, I also felt embarrassed and ashamed that I was feeling down.
Last year, it was loneliness creeping in and it settled for about six months. It's rearing it's ugly head again. And I think it's brought on by the fact that I have maybe 3 best friends, and that all my other friends and acquaintances are getting married and having babies.
God forbid, I don't want kids right now. Couldn't even fathom it. But when people are getting engaged and married and friends are generally having a great time, I get sad. While I know I should be happy for people being happy, I'm not.
It's rough right now in my emotional life. Professional life is great, and it's probably the one thing that's been keeping me somewhat reasonably smiling. It's the part of my life where I walk in to an empty apartment and the phone never rings. Or the part where I see no one other than work. And hell, when I do go out, I can't have a good time, because I can't get my brain to stop working.
I'm always the funny best friend or the cool one of the guys or the awesome little/big sister that no one ever had. It's rough not going out on a date, being wined and dined and other hoopla that it seems like everyone is doing. I think two years of this is quite enough.
It's just that at night, I don't like the only thing I hear are the crickets chirping. I'm Little Miss Ray of Sunshine with a storm cloud forming over my head.
Folks, here it goes again. I'm about sick of this shit.
Not a lot of people know that I went through a deep, horrifying depression last year around this time. It was scary, because it was the worst I have felt mentally and emotionally in a long time. I caught myself many times looking at the medicine cabinet and telling myself in my head that if all else failed, I had two bottles of pain pills that could make me feel better. All at once. If you get my drift.
Somehow, I was able to pull myself out of it. Without any help from anyone or any medicine. In fact, only one person knew how bad it really was. The worst part of all this was while I was feeling really down, I also felt embarrassed and ashamed that I was feeling down.
Last year, it was loneliness creeping in and it settled for about six months. It's rearing it's ugly head again. And I think it's brought on by the fact that I have maybe 3 best friends, and that all my other friends and acquaintances are getting married and having babies.
God forbid, I don't want kids right now. Couldn't even fathom it. But when people are getting engaged and married and friends are generally having a great time, I get sad. While I know I should be happy for people being happy, I'm not.
It's rough right now in my emotional life. Professional life is great, and it's probably the one thing that's been keeping me somewhat reasonably smiling. It's the part of my life where I walk in to an empty apartment and the phone never rings. Or the part where I see no one other than work. And hell, when I do go out, I can't have a good time, because I can't get my brain to stop working.
I'm always the funny best friend or the cool one of the guys or the awesome little/big sister that no one ever had. It's rough not going out on a date, being wined and dined and other hoopla that it seems like everyone is doing. I think two years of this is quite enough.
It's just that at night, I don't like the only thing I hear are the crickets chirping. I'm Little Miss Ray of Sunshine with a storm cloud forming over my head.
Folks, here it goes again. I'm about sick of this shit.
5/30/2007
Wow, twice in one day...
I don't know what the world is coming to. I've blogged twice in one day. I think the devil has officially put on his L.L. Bean parka, because, ladies and gentlemen, Hell just froze over.
I've changed my layout. I'm in a pink sort of mood. I don't necessarily like wearing pink, but every once in a while, pink does you good.
I'm excited about tomorrow's front page and Graduation insert. Granted, if someone calls me and complains about it, I'll be forced to reach through the phone and rip out their vocal chords. I take constructive criticism well, but I don't take hateful, verbal ass rapes all that great. I take them with a smidgen of violence or at least a little blood splatter.
The new job is pretty sweet. One reason why it's sweet is because I'm not in charge. (Insert sigh of relief here.) I enjoy being the low man on the totem pole working in the shadows trying to get everything just right. Second reason why it's pretty fucking awesome is because I'm doing everything. Well, it's not like I'm running around like an Energizer Bunny trying to literally do everything. I've just got my hand in everything.
Design? Yep. Copy editing? Yep. Writing? Yep. Taking pictures? Yep. Making coffee? Yep. Making advertisements? I've tried. Stuffing coupons? Only with threats of physical harm. Cleaning the toilets? Not yet, but I feel like my time is coming.
Before starting, I loathed writing. Hated it. I don't know why. I think it's because I hadn't found my niche yet. I think I'm kind of a weird writer, because I don't like the dark alley, go for the jugular type journalism. Everyone has a story and not all of them are heart-wrenching. However, at the same time, not all of them are filled with butterflies and kittens.
Another reason why I like writing again is because there's no pressure. My stories don't have to be so fucking awesome that it comes out of the printer coated in sparkles.
There's a lot of pressure working at a college newspaper that's been in the top ten of the "Best College Newspapers in the Southeast" three years running. Even worse is becoming the new editor the year after the newspaper wins "Best College Newspaper in the South."
I felt like I had to (quoting Talladega Nights) wake up in the morning and piss excellence. Not saying that my current employer isn't good. Actually, it's very good and once the dynamic duo, Boss Lady and Guinness Techy Guy, has the new website up and running you should take a look. But it almost felt like every week, every story had to rock the foundation of the college and town and make people's head spin.
I don't want to rock your foundation and don't want to make your head spin. I just want you to read it, enjoy it, and maybe learn something.
And that's why I like where I'm at. Because there's no pressure. I don't have to keep proving myself week after week that I was the right one for the job. I can write because I enjoy it, not because I'm trying to win an award.
And to quote the Boss Lady, that's pretty fucking groovy.
I've changed my layout. I'm in a pink sort of mood. I don't necessarily like wearing pink, but every once in a while, pink does you good.
I'm excited about tomorrow's front page and Graduation insert. Granted, if someone calls me and complains about it, I'll be forced to reach through the phone and rip out their vocal chords. I take constructive criticism well, but I don't take hateful, verbal ass rapes all that great. I take them with a smidgen of violence or at least a little blood splatter.
The new job is pretty sweet. One reason why it's sweet is because I'm not in charge. (Insert sigh of relief here.) I enjoy being the low man on the totem pole working in the shadows trying to get everything just right. Second reason why it's pretty fucking awesome is because I'm doing everything. Well, it's not like I'm running around like an Energizer Bunny trying to literally do everything. I've just got my hand in everything.
Design? Yep. Copy editing? Yep. Writing? Yep. Taking pictures? Yep. Making coffee? Yep. Making advertisements? I've tried. Stuffing coupons? Only with threats of physical harm. Cleaning the toilets? Not yet, but I feel like my time is coming.
Before starting, I loathed writing. Hated it. I don't know why. I think it's because I hadn't found my niche yet. I think I'm kind of a weird writer, because I don't like the dark alley, go for the jugular type journalism. Everyone has a story and not all of them are heart-wrenching. However, at the same time, not all of them are filled with butterflies and kittens.
Another reason why I like writing again is because there's no pressure. My stories don't have to be so fucking awesome that it comes out of the printer coated in sparkles.
There's a lot of pressure working at a college newspaper that's been in the top ten of the "Best College Newspapers in the Southeast" three years running. Even worse is becoming the new editor the year after the newspaper wins "Best College Newspaper in the South."
I felt like I had to (quoting Talladega Nights) wake up in the morning and piss excellence. Not saying that my current employer isn't good. Actually, it's very good and once the dynamic duo, Boss Lady and Guinness Techy Guy, has the new website up and running you should take a look. But it almost felt like every week, every story had to rock the foundation of the college and town and make people's head spin.
I don't want to rock your foundation and don't want to make your head spin. I just want you to read it, enjoy it, and maybe learn something.
And that's why I like where I'm at. Because there's no pressure. I don't have to keep proving myself week after week that I was the right one for the job. I can write because I enjoy it, not because I'm trying to win an award.
And to quote the Boss Lady, that's pretty fucking groovy.
--snarl--
I'm updating before work, because I'm dragging my feet. One of the reasons I've avoided the real world is that I hate going to work at 8 a.m. 9 a.m. would be much better, and 10 a.m. would be awesome like eating the last piece of cheesecake.
I'm a night owl. I get all my best ideas and best writing at around 1 a.m. For the past four years at college, I avoided taking an 8 a.m. class. I know that I'm getting exhausted because I'm hitting the snooze button a little bit more each day. Oh, and the fact that I'm having to trick myself to get out of bed. My clock is set 30 minutes fast.
We're heading up to the lake this weekend, and I'm absolutely ecstatic. There's only so many weekends of my mom that I can handle in one month. It's the whole "we're exactly alike and we don't like spending the weekend with a version of ourselves." Except that I'm a night owl and she's a morning person. The horror!!!
Oh, and that she wakes me up at 5 a.m. everyday on the weekend. I'm sure you're asking yourself, "But Elizabeth, why don't you just roll over and go back to sleep?" My answer to you, ye naive one, is that it's hard to sleep when someone flips on the light, pulls the covers off of you, grabs you by the ankles and yanks you out of bed all while screaming in your ear at the volume only dogs can hear.
All this so I'll have a cup of coffee and watch the squirrels. And then she gets perturbed when for the first two hours, I talk like a caveman. Grunts, snorts, snarls and beating on my chest for added emphasis. Everyone who knows me knows that you don't talk to me in the morning until I talk to you first, but apparently, after 22 years, Momma hasn't figure it out yet. Or she chooses to ignore it.
I'd feel much better if I had a cup of coffee in the morning. But here's a little secret. The coffee at work sucks. I've been spoiled, because my coffee pot is an old Bunn from a restaurant. Makes some damn fine coffee. One of these days, I'm coming up there armed with a good coffee pot and going to page everyone and say, "Gather around kiddos. Let Auntie Lizzie show you what a good cup of coffee tastes like." And then I shall cackle and clap my hands with glee as everyone takes the first sip and they start drooling at the mouth and their eyes roll back in a caffeine, coffee bean induced orgasm.
Speaking of coffee and orgasms, I'm going to work.
I'm a night owl. I get all my best ideas and best writing at around 1 a.m. For the past four years at college, I avoided taking an 8 a.m. class. I know that I'm getting exhausted because I'm hitting the snooze button a little bit more each day. Oh, and the fact that I'm having to trick myself to get out of bed. My clock is set 30 minutes fast.
We're heading up to the lake this weekend, and I'm absolutely ecstatic. There's only so many weekends of my mom that I can handle in one month. It's the whole "we're exactly alike and we don't like spending the weekend with a version of ourselves." Except that I'm a night owl and she's a morning person. The horror!!!
Oh, and that she wakes me up at 5 a.m. everyday on the weekend. I'm sure you're asking yourself, "But Elizabeth, why don't you just roll over and go back to sleep?" My answer to you, ye naive one, is that it's hard to sleep when someone flips on the light, pulls the covers off of you, grabs you by the ankles and yanks you out of bed all while screaming in your ear at the volume only dogs can hear.
All this so I'll have a cup of coffee and watch the squirrels. And then she gets perturbed when for the first two hours, I talk like a caveman. Grunts, snorts, snarls and beating on my chest for added emphasis. Everyone who knows me knows that you don't talk to me in the morning until I talk to you first, but apparently, after 22 years, Momma hasn't figure it out yet. Or she chooses to ignore it.
I'd feel much better if I had a cup of coffee in the morning. But here's a little secret. The coffee at work sucks. I've been spoiled, because my coffee pot is an old Bunn from a restaurant. Makes some damn fine coffee. One of these days, I'm coming up there armed with a good coffee pot and going to page everyone and say, "Gather around kiddos. Let Auntie Lizzie show you what a good cup of coffee tastes like." And then I shall cackle and clap my hands with glee as everyone takes the first sip and they start drooling at the mouth and their eyes roll back in a caffeine, coffee bean induced orgasm.
Speaking of coffee and orgasms, I'm going to work.
5/23/2007
Technical Difficulties...
Apparently, the photos did upload. There are little blue boxes that you have to right click and select view image.
One of these days, I'll figure out how to work the damn thing.
One of these days, I'll figure out how to work the damn thing.
Graduation and all that other grown up stuff...
Haven't updated in forever, because I haven't had the time, energy, or the motivation. But you try working at a place where half of the people blog. You'll start blogging again. It's inevitable.
Graduated Cum Laude on May 12th, which by the way is complete bullshit. I made a 3.6 my final semester, which was enough to bump me up to Magna Cum Laude, because I had the highest GPA you could have and still only be Cum Laude. Now, I could have a diploma that said Magna Cum Laude at the bottom, but I would have to pay $50 to have my diploma reprinted. So, I'll settle for my lowly title.
Which, by the way, I received my diploma as a pleasant surprise after I got off work. Since I can't seem to get this image uploader to work on my piece of shit widget I have, you'll have to go to my flickr to see the diploma. Search for weebly91.
I need to get back to work. Gotta do the whole journalist thing, you know.
Graduated Cum Laude on May 12th, which by the way is complete bullshit. I made a 3.6 my final semester, which was enough to bump me up to Magna Cum Laude, because I had the highest GPA you could have and still only be Cum Laude. Now, I could have a diploma that said Magna Cum Laude at the bottom, but I would have to pay $50 to have my diploma reprinted. So, I'll settle for my lowly title.
Which, by the way, I received my diploma as a pleasant surprise after I got off work. Since I can't seem to get this image uploader to work on my piece of shit widget I have, you'll have to go to my flickr to see the diploma. Search for weebly91.
I need to get back to work. Gotta do the whole journalist thing, you know.
3/26/2007
Dear Lower Back...
Dear Lower Back,
As I sit here at 7:19 a.m., I can't help but to be pissed off, because once again you have let me down. Normal 22 year old people can lift sacks of kitty litter, but for some reason, you find it hilarious to give me the finger at the most inappropriate times.
I did not appreciate you popping, tearing, pulling, ripping, pinching or whatever you did yesterday while I had a 25 lbs. sack on my shoulder. I did not appreciate when you thought that it would be funny to join forces with my legs and brow-beat them into not working for a full 30 minutes. I do not appreciate you finding it humorous to cause me to lay in the fetal position in the middle of my garage floor and scream my head off in front of God and everyone. Lastly, I do not appreciate you making my mother come outside and pick me up off the ground.
In closing, it's obvious that you will not work right. Too many times you thought it would be cute in pulling a muscle here and there. But now, you have gone way too far. But I ultimately have the last laugh, because, Lower Back, I have pain pills from the time where you decided to go on vacation and leave my wisdom teeth in charge. Fuck you, asshole. I'm still walking.
Sincerely,
The Owner
__________________________________
Saturday, I picked up a sack of kitty litter and pinched a nerve in my back. My legs gave out, and I hit the concrete floor. I laid in the floor for 30 minutes until I could finally get up to my hands and knees. I can't move; it hurts to walk, sit, stand or lay. It's been the most excruciating, breath-taking pain I've ever experienced, but there is no rest for the weary, because I have a newspaper to put out today.
As I sit here at 7:19 a.m., I can't help but to be pissed off, because once again you have let me down. Normal 22 year old people can lift sacks of kitty litter, but for some reason, you find it hilarious to give me the finger at the most inappropriate times.
I did not appreciate you popping, tearing, pulling, ripping, pinching or whatever you did yesterday while I had a 25 lbs. sack on my shoulder. I did not appreciate when you thought that it would be funny to join forces with my legs and brow-beat them into not working for a full 30 minutes. I do not appreciate you finding it humorous to cause me to lay in the fetal position in the middle of my garage floor and scream my head off in front of God and everyone. Lastly, I do not appreciate you making my mother come outside and pick me up off the ground.
In closing, it's obvious that you will not work right. Too many times you thought it would be cute in pulling a muscle here and there. But now, you have gone way too far. But I ultimately have the last laugh, because, Lower Back, I have pain pills from the time where you decided to go on vacation and leave my wisdom teeth in charge. Fuck you, asshole. I'm still walking.
Sincerely,
The Owner
__________________________________
Saturday, I picked up a sack of kitty litter and pinched a nerve in my back. My legs gave out, and I hit the concrete floor. I laid in the floor for 30 minutes until I could finally get up to my hands and knees. I can't move; it hurts to walk, sit, stand or lay. It's been the most excruciating, breath-taking pain I've ever experienced, but there is no rest for the weary, because I have a newspaper to put out today.
3/08/2007
It's officially Spring Break
I don't know why I feel the need to update twice in one week, but I'm on a roll! As of 30 minutes ago, I'm officially on spring break. It feels damn good to finally get an entire week of nothing. Just sitting in my apartment and being lazy in front of the television or computer.
Most people have plans for spring break like going to California, the lake house, or even Nebraska. But I've never been one to travel a long distance from home. I can have just as much fun sitting in my apartment than halfway across the country.
I've been needing this vacation for while. I even told my 1:00 p.m. professor that he was "Damn lucky I even came to class today. It took every ounce of self-motivation I had to put my lazy butt out of bed today." He laughed and said he appreciated my willpower.
I've been in a better mood lately, because spring is here. I wish it could stay the temperature it is today all year long. There's just something about the winter time that makes me all down in the mouth. I also feel better, because I'm two-thirds of the way done cleaning my apartment. Only the rest of my living room and bedroom to go.
I'm rambling, as always, and probably need to get off the computer and do something productive. Oh yeah, that's right. I don't have to do anything productive for a week. Shake -N- Bake, bitches!!
Most people have plans for spring break like going to California, the lake house, or even Nebraska. But I've never been one to travel a long distance from home. I can have just as much fun sitting in my apartment than halfway across the country.
I've been needing this vacation for while. I even told my 1:00 p.m. professor that he was "Damn lucky I even came to class today. It took every ounce of self-motivation I had to put my lazy butt out of bed today." He laughed and said he appreciated my willpower.
I've been in a better mood lately, because spring is here. I wish it could stay the temperature it is today all year long. There's just something about the winter time that makes me all down in the mouth. I also feel better, because I'm two-thirds of the way done cleaning my apartment. Only the rest of my living room and bedroom to go.
I'm rambling, as always, and probably need to get off the computer and do something productive. Oh yeah, that's right. I don't have to do anything productive for a week. Shake -N- Bake, bitches!!
3/06/2007
Not that bad..
I hate dressing up. I'm not one for business suits and curled hair, but for some reason, my department feels that you're not professional if you don't own a pin-stripe business suit. My black pants and sweater is not enough, and God forbid I actually let my work speak for me instead of trying to elevate my tits so high that they become earrings and not "mammory canons."
Past couple of weeks have been ok. I received my mid-term grades. Four A's and a B which is freakin' sweet! Met some people that are literally down the road and they seem freakin' sweet, too. Going to see the movie "300" this week (-cough- at least I better, if a certain person knows what is best for his health). All my classes have been canceled on Friday, so spring break starts on Thursday for me. Again, freakin' sweet. To round out the list, there's only two months until I graduate. That's not freakin' sweet; that's awesome like finding a $20 bill in your pocket that you forgot about and balancing your checkbook and realizing you have enough money to pay your bills.
I'm looking for a job this summer. I need something to pay the bills. Ideally, something that works me 40 hours a week and in my field, but I'll substitute the "in my field" clause if times get desperate. I have to find something quick, because my credit card bill needs to get paid down. I guess I need to start sending out resumes like "my ass is on sale and the rent is due TONIGHT."
The to-do list is getting longer by the day, but in two days, that list should be empty. Or at least it better be or I'm screwed. As long as I can make it pass this week, there should be easy sailing for a little while at least.
Well, the time has come for me to hop in the shower and get ready for class. I'm having to dress up for the second time in two weeks. I'm sure the devil is wearing a parka, because I'm having to put on make-up for the second day in a row, and we both know that if that happens, Hell has officially frozen over.
Past couple of weeks have been ok. I received my mid-term grades. Four A's and a B which is freakin' sweet! Met some people that are literally down the road and they seem freakin' sweet, too. Going to see the movie "300" this week (-cough- at least I better, if a certain person knows what is best for his health). All my classes have been canceled on Friday, so spring break starts on Thursday for me. Again, freakin' sweet. To round out the list, there's only two months until I graduate. That's not freakin' sweet; that's awesome like finding a $20 bill in your pocket that you forgot about and balancing your checkbook and realizing you have enough money to pay your bills.
I'm looking for a job this summer. I need something to pay the bills. Ideally, something that works me 40 hours a week and in my field, but I'll substitute the "in my field" clause if times get desperate. I have to find something quick, because my credit card bill needs to get paid down. I guess I need to start sending out resumes like "my ass is on sale and the rent is due TONIGHT."
The to-do list is getting longer by the day, but in two days, that list should be empty. Or at least it better be or I'm screwed. As long as I can make it pass this week, there should be easy sailing for a little while at least.
Well, the time has come for me to hop in the shower and get ready for class. I'm having to dress up for the second time in two weeks. I'm sure the devil is wearing a parka, because I'm having to put on make-up for the second day in a row, and we both know that if that happens, Hell has officially frozen over.
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