Life is what you make of it

Well, guess what? I'm not making lemonade....

When it rains, it pours.

So I'm getting my hours cut at work.

Obviously that means less money.

Less chance of me being able to move out of the ghetto anytime soon.

More chance of me going absolutely nuts. 

I really, really, really hate money. I hate that I have to have it, for every little thing. It DOES make the world go 'round when you have absolutely nothing else to spin your world.

So I am about to be screwed. The new shoes, the new underclothes that I was going to buy b/c I don't have any that aren't falling apart....well, that's out. It's strictly Rent, Electric, Phone, Gas & Food. There are no entertainment options. I barely get by with the gas and food. And I have two loans that I need to be paying off, but am totally unable to do.

I just don't see me getting another job. An additional one. I don't see me getting a "better" job, either. I think the job that I have is just fine. There's talk of promotion, but not until business gets better, or sold.

So there's no way to go up right now. Just in pay, and that's only twice a year. Ha. I say "only," but it took me four years at Panera to get to just over $9. I had to start over at C & B, but I made it to $10 in less than a year. Sure, there's a cap, but damn, just give me some hours and keep me in the double digits!

Yes, when it rains it pours. I'm working on my book. Had to start a complete chapter overhaul last night. I'm supposed to try to be done by September. I really don't think this is going to happen.

Oh, why isn't there someone awesome and cool out there who I can either live with or rent from and still live my life but also have someone to come home to or some cheaper place to come home to? I'm jealous of Haque and Chris Curtis. Hell, I'm jealous of boys. Their lives are so simple. It's easy to make them happy.

Who am I kidding? I couldn't live with anyone. I'm the Worst Roommate Ever. I really am. I hold the title...proudly, I guess. As a result, I won't ever get cheap rent again. I can't live with friends, and I don't have a man to come home to who will treat me right and make me dinner and give me back rubs. It hurts me that I'm totally glad that I don't have a man to come home to. Sure, I get lonely, but I don't have to answer to anyone. I don't have to have dinner ready when he gets home, I can shower whenever I want, I can eat whenever, whatever. 

I have no one to impress. I don't have to work hard for anyone. I don't care anymore about that. I am quite content living the way I do. Clean apartment or no, I don't have anyone to answer to. I don't have any visitors to my apartment besides Rory and Jef, but who cares?

All of you should be ashamed of yourselves.

You told me I didn't need a man to be happy, that I could make myself happy.

Well, thanks. As a result of that, I have become way more selfish and self-involved. I was already that before, but now it's worse. "Spend time on YOU." I HAVE spent time on me. Thirty two years worth of time I have spent on myself. I know myself. I like myself(or I am at least resigned to those things I cannot change--oh, boy, starting to sound like the serenity prayer from AA). I am just fine with myself. It is everyone else that has a problem with me. Guess what? I don't care. I don't have to care about anyone's feelings but my own. People around me don't like that. "What? You mean you aren't going to spare my feelings? You're going to give me the truth?" Bitch, please. I don't have time to tap dance around your life, I have mine to get back to.

I would like to apologize for not seeing or speaking to most people I know. Like Jenny & Bryan & Sawyer...and Cris and Dri....Shannon....they know I love them, even if I don't talk to them on a daily basis, weekly, monthly....even if all I have is Facebook, or Twitter. I can show them that way. Just b/c I don't call, doesn't mean I don't love you or want to be anywhere around you....

It's just easier. I feel like I'm getting in the way, anyway. My path is different.

I probably should have listened when they read that Robert Frost poem at high school graduation. I probably wouldn't be in the fix I'm in today. 

Or maybe I would.

1. The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;         5   Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,         10   And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.         15   I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

My Big Talent

I have a Big Talent. I have a few smaller ones, but only one Big Talent. And I'm totally ashamed of it.

I have an incredibly vivid imagination. But it's incredibly boring. All I think of is sex. Well, romance novel type scenarios. All I can think of in any given day is one or two storylines in particular...music is a big inspiration, so anytime I hear a particular song, I can be sent into a trance. 

I can write smut. And well.

That's my talent. I have a filthy mind, so I'm trying to exploit it. It needs to be used for SOMETHING. Hopefully this is something for which I can get paid.

I am almost done with the fourth edit of my novel( I really hate calling it a novel, although that IS what it is.). It's slow going. As soon as this edit is done, I will print it again, and do a fifth edit, and try to answer all the questions I have and fix it as best I can. Then one or two people will get to read and edit for grammar, etc & content. Then I shall re-fix, and get a packet together to send to all the editors in the land.

The basis is something that is near to me. I can't say "near and dear" b/c it sho' ain't dear. Hello, worst moment of my life on paper...no, it's not all that dear. But it's a story that has a beginning, a middle, and an end. I can't say "closure," b/c I don't think that closure actually occurred. Not that it matters. What the hell ever. I'm talking about my book.

I am horribly embarrassed about letting anyone read it who isn't a fan of romance novels. The RN fan would be a possible easy sell. They know the structure, and what's supposed to be happening in the book. I'm afraid of what others will say....see, if I can't write a book and let people read it, then what the hell is the point?

I haven't EVER let anyone read ANY of the smut I've written....I posted some of it on my myspace blog....got Jenny all interested in "Ian and Eliza" but abandoned them in favor of a new couple: "Chris and Julie."

They were supposed to have different names, but as they have been around for about a year, the names stuck. The characters became these people. I can't just up and change their names now.

So I have characters. Mostly really fleshed out characters b/c they are all based on SOMEONE...or five or six someones. There' s only one character who makes a brief appearance that I can't name or put any attributes to...He's basically Dr. Bristow, but I can't call the character "Don." I don't actually want the man to know that he's one of my characters....

I stated that wrong. The character I am thinking about is similar to Daddy B. But this character, just a one time director, is not the most important character. Plus, he is just one professor personality of many who is being used as a template for this character. 

I don't know who the character is.....

And you know, if that is my biggest problem right now with the book, then yay. 

Why am I worrying about him? He's a Red Shirt going on an away mission. He isn't the most important part. Julie and her stormy blue eyes are pretty important. Chris and his hot, liquid brown eyes are important. But The Director? Just one minor character who may, or may not ever return.

I need to set a deadline. September I do believe will be a year since I started writing the story. 

God, this story has taken so long to tell. I'm tired of it, and almost no longer care.

The Industrial Revolution

That title is misleading. This isn't about the actual Industrial Revolution....it's been way too long for me to remember anything about it, so I added a link just in case anyone wanted to refresh themselves.

I don't even think that "Industrial Revolution" is the proper terminology for what I'm thinking about. IR was just something that popped into my head.

I just wanted to talk about my relationships. My relationships with my technology and machines. NOT THOSE MACHINES. You filthy beast.  

I'm talking about the computer, the internet, the cell phone that allows me to Tweet at any moment of the day. 

When I'm at work, I'm constantly attached to the computer, doing one thing or another. Facebook, Myspace, Twitter. For work and for myself. Promoting the business, or talking about SOMETHING completely ridiculous. Like right now, I'm ringing someone up, waiting for their money, while I'm blogging this.

I get sucked into the computer's vortex, especially since I don't have the internet at home.

At home, I have the computer, and a tv, and an ipod and other stuff that makes life a little bit harder, while trying to add to it. It doesn't actually add, it totally detracts. 

A few months ago I installed The Sims Deluxe Edition on my computer. I was taking a break from writing my book--the subject matter was getting too intense for me--so I played The Sims, day and night for a month or two. I haven't slept a proper night since sometime in late March. I have completely effed up my back, b/c I don't have a proper desk or chair. I am in so much pain.

I can't go to bed until 4 or 5 am...sometimes due to The Sims and sometimes due to the fact that I just can't sleep.

So I'm smoking too much, sleeping not enough, sleeping too late, not eating properly, too much caffeine...

Dude. It sucks. I am not enjoying this.

This is a shift, a change, due to my work schedule changing. I work nights now, mostly. I haven't worked a morning in months. My whole life is a little upside down. I'm not complaining(too hard); I've got a good job where I am allowed to be on the internet for the entire shift(in between customers and stocking). 

I feel like I'm becoming a cyborg. Resistance is futile, and all that. I have bonded more with this computer that I am working on than I have the people I work with. (Although with one of them, it's probably a good thing, or else I would be in another world of hurt)

Technological Revolution...that' s the terminology I was looking for.... I need a new Technological Revolution. One where I bond more with humans than the machines. I don't want ALL of my relationships to have to do with the machines....tv, blogging, music....conversation...For God's sake, when I play The Sims, their lives are just as dull as mine. 

So what the hell am I getting out of it?

Get Lost in a Star Trek

I love me some J.J. Abrams. I love me some Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindelof. They have got some crazy minds. Are they crazy enough, though, to give away hints from Lost during Star Trek?

Think about that for a second.

Are you with me?

At the end of Season 5 of Lost, the bomb presumably goes off, the screen goes white, the letters black. My immediate thought is...wait for it....Alternate Reality.

And why not? Locke isn't Locke, and half of them are in 1977, so why not?

I'm very ok with the idea of a possible alternate reality....(I'm not all that pleased with the "God" and "Biblical" direction...I am enjoying the Egyptian & philosophers side though).

And then I watch the Star Trek. Three times. Twice on my computer(thanks, Jef) and once at AMC Quail, so I had ample opportunity to come to this conclusion. Also, plenty of time to think on the Spock/Kirk & Jack/Sawyer relationships. 

There were just so many similarities that are hard to ignore....And while I love the way these guys work, sometimes it's easy to predict(but sometimes they surprise the hell out of you).

So....

What's up with the new guy?

What has Ben done to the statue? (You gotta know he's done SOMETHING.... "It was like that when I got here?" As Sun said, "You expect me to believe that?")

When are Sun and Jin gonna get their reunion?

Where is Claire?

Is Juliet dead and/or pregnant?

Why is Aaron so important?

Are all of the ghosts going to come back?

Is this an angel and demon kind of thing? 

Is Jacob where the white light for all the flashes came from? On that same hand, is the Dark fella the Smoke monster?

Does Kate deserve Sawyer?

I just know the answer to the last: No.

And Jacob says to "Flocke":  "They're coming."

WHO?

And that thing....."everything else is progress"? In my head this means all of this has happened before, over and over....maybe the last time it wasn't a plane, but a big ol ship...The Black Rock, perhaps? 

What's in a name?/Blame it on the ...X?

Ok, I am calling my newest blog The Rehab Lounge. I've always thought that would be a great name for a bar. (Other cool names include The Loading Dock, or The Fly Rail). 

Wait a minute. I think there actually is a bar named Rehab Lounge.....I think it was stuck in my memory somewhere.....from Jan. 1, 1997....the Dallas trip with Sara Jane, Turner, Katie and Leazel(!)....I think that the bar next door to the place where Sara Jane got her tongue pierced and Katie got her tattoo was called The Rehab Lounge. And I think I may actually have a picture of the sign somewhere...If I find it, I'm so posting it as my profile pic here. I also have a picture of Katie getting her tattoo; I watched the entire process. Hence, part of the reason I won't get inked.

So the name has stuck with me I guess.

And the name has been true enough for the apartment I call The Rehab Lounge. I said in my previous blog that I don't like to drink all that much(well, my parents were alcoholics, what do you expect? I do have my own addictive traits...just not booze), but I had plenty of issues with X, eh? I ate probably 500 tabs or more that Lost Summer of 2001, and haven't had many since. I say "many" because I know there were a few since then. No more than 3, if that. I reserve all my habits for smoking...and prescription pills like muscle relaxors or lortab--BECAUSE OF ACTUAL PAIN, and not just for fun, because, truly, they aren't all that fun.

I got burned out on booze in college...well, who wouldn't, after all of the McCormick's Vodka and the Beast you can hold? But now I know what to drink and what not to drink(Aventinus, yes. Red wine, no) I like to drink really expensive stuff. It's lucky for me that I DON'T drink very much, else my paycheck would go back to the store. Even with the discount I can't afford to drink anything but what's on the Pick 6...

See, I'm a Chivas or Glenlivet, a Stoli & U'luvka or New Amsterdam & Whitley Neill kind of girl.

I will unerringly pick a $42 bottle of wine over a $13, without knowing the price.

But I'm not high maintenance.

No, really.

Where ARE all of the Sex Offenders?

So I'm not actually actively looking...this was just a topic of conversation between a co-worker and myself. It's a slow night here at C&B...well, it's Monday...not many people want to get their margarita on tonight, I guess. 

I don't actually like to drink. Do you think this is a problem for a person who works in a liquor store? I'll go to trade shows and taste a little of everything, even stuff I don't like, for work. But if it's left up to me, I won't drink. I don't like the way it makes me feel, all tired and fuzzy. Pot makes some people feel that way(not me, I'm the Vision of Clarity after bong rips), but booze does it to me. Beer I can deal with just fine, as long as it's not Bud or anything they can sell cold in Oklahoma. Wine is the devil. I get too hot too fast. Not that kind of hot. Just flushed and wobbly. Liquor is hardly ever a good idea for me. It always hurts the next day....unless it's really low in proof or super girly. I can't let go and have fun, because I know what can happen. I mean, one delicious 9% apv beer (well, two), and a 100 proof shot of Rumple Minze can turn into a really bad night where you vandalize things....Not that that has happened....

But do you see what I mean? I don't like to drink, and usually only do so for work, or when I hang out with my crew of Bitches, and we're celebrating putting a douchebag's head on a pike, or something equally as awesome. But just to go home and drink a glass, a bottle of wine or whiskey just for fun...

I'd rather smoke a blunt.