Sentence Fragments for Your Holiday Enjoyment

Am home for the holidays for two weeks and have done almost nothing.  Got snowed in at mom and dad’s and actually had a pretty good time.  Am now waiting for Josh to get home from work and watching Sliders.  Have watched 11 episodes in the last day.

It’s my birthday, and I’ll whine if I want

Josh’s lovely sister’s wedding is now scheduled for my twenty-fifth birthday wedding.  My birthday is a Wednesday, and when it falls on a weekday I’ve usually celebrated beforehand, that way when the actual day rolls around, I don’t fell like nothing is happening, because I can spend that day remembering whatever it is I did that weekend.  I know she doesn’t know it’s my birthday, but whatever.  I can be pissy if I want.

Because I’m an Iowan.

The first big blizzard of the year is in the warnings, on the map, and flying in rumors, and I’m excited.

No way

So. I just found out that Jim Hensen is dead.  For the last 19 years.  No one told me.  I’m gonna need some time.

Half-Naked Ladies, because I’m so cool

Even though the DVD player built into my cheap TV doesn’t remember where you are in a disc if you change the input or turn off the unit, I’ve decided to pause the ER marathon and watch the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.  I didn’t know about it until I checked Facebook for the zillionth time today, and even though I’ve already missed over half of it, I really want to check it out.  I’ve never seen it! Never seen a fashion show not on Project Runway.

Woo hoo!

Apparently Pizza Hut Sells Pasta

The holiday weekend was great, as always, and made even better by the fact that it lasted almost nine days.  Yes, my boss gave me most of Friday off, and I drove straight home from the office at around 9 am Friday and didn’t look back until sometime Saturday afternoon when I realized I should be checking my email for a proof that was to go to print Wednesday.  Four days earlier.  Oh well, there was only one typo that shouldn’t get us in too much trouble. And by “us” of course I mean “me”.

I cried more driving home from this “weekend” than I have since the first time I got in my car and left my real home to come back to the shell of a home that is the giant closet where I sleep between shifts at the job I now resent mostly due to its location. I cried all the way to the next town, which in Iowa is a good ten to fifteen minutes.  Then I turned up the Coldplay and Zep because I’m that cool and talked to myself for the next two hours of dull drive home.

so then I came back to work this morning and managed to stay distracted enough with good enough things to feel useful and not burdened down by the fact that I’m whining about pretty much nothing in the fae of all that there really is to whine about (“starving kids in Africa” lecture here). I’m whining because I’m lonely and I’m too scared to go do something about it.  There. I said it. I admitted it.  Will I do something about it?  Probably not.  Only have six months left here, ya know.

So then I came home from work and made the biggest “baking potato” I’ve ever seen, ate about half of it, felt sick and got the hiccups, and drank too much orange juice.  I had to buy the orange juice, because I don’t carry cash (because I tend to lose it – not spend it and forget spending it – I don’t tend to spend much money – just physically lose the stuff) and I felt ridiculous using my debit card to just buy one 14 cent potato.  I also bought a candy bar, because a day isn’t a day if there isn’t some quality tooth-rotting happening.

And now I’ve just finished a bath taken mostly for the purpose of staying warm while the apartment warms back up  (I’m cheap and don’t run the heat while I’m at work) and shaving my legs.  I also got  started on the book I bought my second day home because I thought I’d get bored (I never did), and it’s turned out to be really cheesy and a little bit lame, but I’m loving it so far.  “Eat Pray Love.”

I’m a lazy pile

The third in a nasty line of crazies has come to hurt my sister, but at least this last one is in jail, and from the way we understand it, he’s going to do at least a year in jail.  Good.  Time to be held accountable, jackass.  And that’s all I have to say about that right now.  don’t want to tak the timet o say much more now because 1) this keyboard is a piece of shit, and 2) I’m at my sister’s house and wanna do other things, or nothing, but not put effort into forming coherent well-thought thoughts.

Go Team JACOB!

Taylor Lautner, why are you seven years younger than me, making me feel like a creep-o?

Shhhh

I totally rocked a one-person assembly in front of 190 lower elementary kids and their 20-odd teachers!  I’ll admit, I was scared shitless that these little kids wouldn’t like me, and then I wouldn’t be the most popular speaker ever at the little podunk elementary school.  I’ll even admit that this very fear has spent the last nearly two weeks paralyzing me.  And I’ll admit further that it took me til halfway through the 40 minute drive there this morning to realize that this is freakin stupid.

There is no reason to be afraid of a bunch of kids that age.  They’re going to like me no matter what I do, because I’m older! I’m taller (than most of them)!  I went to college! I’m bringing solar-powered cars and I’m going to LET THEM DRIVE THEM! I pretty much win no matter what.

But that’s not the issue of my insecurity about it, of course. The insecurity is in my fear of not being liked by a bunch of children and small-town teachers I’ll not only never see again, but who I will probably never think about again , and who will never think about me again, and, who, if we ever did think about each other again, IT WOULDN’T MATTER, and it wouldn’t affect anything.

Because I’m kind of an insecure douchebag like that, but let’s keep that secret to ourselves, shall we?  Lest anyone find out how not perfect I am.

To be finished at a later date, should I work up the energy

So I’m back in my office, sitting at my computer, doing absolutely nothing productive, just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.  Today, though, is Saturday, so I don’t feel so guilty about it.  On regular workdays, I feel guilty just sitting here keeping facebook and my google reader company, doing nothing useful or forward-moving.  I can attribute this to many causes, I think, and working my way through them to some kind of conclusion that my guilt is little fault of my own and generally uncalled-for would take quite a bit of time and effort, and frankly, I just don’t feel like it.

On regular workdays, I’m here due entirely to my kind boss’s benevolence, and I know I bitch and moan too much about how horribly I’m paid, and I shouldn’t because the only reason I have this money is because my boss took a second job (within the university doing something she loves, but still) so that I could make this much money. *runon!*

But for not, I’ve gotten so used to being a lazy pile of nothing that I think I’ll just stop here and continue reading another’s blog, a great one written by a medical student.  “You’ll Never Know Everything.”