Rant: I hate having to go back on what I said but fuck if I'm going to get screwed over. I will pretend my parents laid down the law and that I am merely the messenger. Sorry room mate but you can't have someone I've never even met stay in your room while you leave the country for 2 months, they have to rent the other room that's empty.
Rave: Signed up for college classes today. I'm gonna get me some edumacation. Rave: Classes are FREE as long as I pass. Thank you, taxpayers. Rave: Dropped my three-mile by another thirty seconds. I love making progress. Rave: Finished training on the CM-200 receivers and transmitters. I am now well-trained enough to get my nuts irradiated. The civilian training me said "No, standing in front of the antennas is NOT a good method of birth control. You want that, go stand in front of the radar."
Rave: I finally got off my ass and got my (bigger, non jonboat) in the water and have a verbal agreement with a friend renting a beach house for docking as he doesn't have a boat or interest in them. Now, as long as I have a marginally intelligent but sober person at the helm, I can get blackout and have a safe place to crash later. This is the foundation of a solid summer; one of the last where it will be socially acceptable and guilt free for me to pursue this leisure during every intersection of free and daylight time I possibly can. Rave: Monday was projected to be in the low 90's and sunny. I used a sick day and got one of my best drinking buddies to do likewise. My co-captain, an unrepentant womanizer as long as I've known him, lined up a pair of passengers (local college girs +/- six months of drinking age) who met us at the dock for almost eight hours of motoring around the island sipping cocktails and stopping sporadically to smoke joints and stand waist-deep in the still cold water to evacuate the liquid onslaught. These days are always a massive morale boost and I can honestly say that if I had the resources I would be content to repeat the process daily until eventually I would succumb in my sleep to my dual diagnosis of cirrhosis and severe melanoma. Rant: Perhaps me being drunk within half an hour of being at sea is correlated, but for some reason I chose to eschew sun-screen in order to "go ahead and get a good base tan." In addition to the hours of solar radiation, my boss was not exactly amused when I crawled in Monday; sensitive to the touch and sporting one of the worst cases of sunglass tan in history I went about maintaining an apologetic and productive veneer. Later, he snuck up to slap me on the back and ask about the day. That vicarious old horndog was lucky, if any of my actual peers had slapped the part of my back which resembled a burn victim's in the hungover state I was in they may well have gotten an unsheathed Bic ballpoint to the jugular.
Rantish Rave: Sorry to post twice in one day, but I gotta bitch. So remember I was all stoked for that manager job? Yeah, it seems that the District Manager was a tad misleading. It would be 6 months before I got the actual manager salary and benefits. In the meantime I was expected to be a slave for an incredibly low wage. I roll with it, mostly because my immediate boss is badass, instant friendship. I realize that is not really the best basis for a work relationship, but it is what it is. I worked my ass off, no bitching, and still working the money days at my old job. I was working 60+ hours a week between the jobs. I would parent some as well. Then Mr.P scored his job. The whole dynamic changed. He would take care of the kiddos while I was at work, before he got the job. Now that he is working I don't have to, we would do well if I worked two days a week at the serving job. This freedom coupled with the fact that I would be losing money if I paid for childcare while working the new job means I have to change my availability drastically or quit. Mr. P doesn't mind one way or another. I am tired, want to get back to school and writing and actually seeing my kids for more than twenty minutes at a time. This should be an easy choice. I am overcome with guilt, I am well aware that cool new boss will have to pick up all kinds of slack til the District Manager lures another victim. I am feeling tethered by the sheer fact that I took this stupid job. It isn't my fault they pay for shit and are grossly understaffed. So, I called and explained it all to her and now I feel sick. What the fuck is wrong with me? For fuck's sake, I want to kick myself... Rave: I can do what I WANT! (ala Cartman, my hero)
Rant: Unexpected root canal today, Did I mention it was my first. Rave:I am surprised it didn't hurt as bad as everyone describes.
Rant: I'm super tired of dealing with job shit past 10:00 pm. Cops have been out here the past two nights dealing with the same tenant I have been dealing with for months. Rave: They came back out tonight to kick them out, so I could change the locks on the unit. Unfortunately, it wasn't for possession of the unit, but instead a health and safety issue, because they neglected to keep their electricity on. Hopefully, they will be all moved out by Sunday, but we will see how that goes. Rant: I further drew the ire of an excon who at least likes to act very hard. Rave: Jokes on his sister. Between the eviction and the collection I will put out on her for breaking a window last night (which I'm sure she won't pay) she will never be able to rent from an apt. complex that does background checks. Rant: She has a kid. And odds are the cycle will just continue.
Rant: Fucking basement is leaking....the basement that I rent. Passed out at 1 in the morning after mopping for the last 4 hours. Wake up to most of the suite with a fine layer of water everywhere. FUCK
Rave: New laptop, nothing fancy but my old one is a piece of shit. For example, I'm having no issues posting a reply where my old computer would freeze up and if I did finally get a post composed it would fuck up as soon as I hit the submit button and the whole thing would be gone. Rave: I'm off work for the rest of the day and I have to stop by for about an hour tomorrow afternoon, then I don't have to set foot in the building until Wednesday! Eh: Mr. abneretta's 10 year high school reunion is tomorrow afternoon and I'm not really looking forward to going. I'm sure it'll be fine but I doubt it will be too exciting and it's smack dab in the middle of the afternoon which makes it hard to plan anything that is fun. Rant: This pregnancy has caused my boobs to grow like crazy. I've already went up a bra size and I'm using an extender and the god damn thing is still cutting off my cirulation. I really don't want to go out and buy another bra that will only fit for a few weeks, which is what happened with this one. I'm also outgrowing my shoes, I'm really not a fan of that. My feet aren't swollen, they have grown which is apparently common in pregnancy, good thing I can get away with wearing flip flops everywhere but work since I definitely don't want to buy new shoes at the moment. Rave: I'll take the above rant since I really can't complain otherwise about being pregnant. I didn't have any morning sickness or any other symptoms except for being tired all the time. I'm just over halfway through the pregnancy and she moves around all the time which is awesome.
Rant: There are few things more unpleasant than really needing to poop while you're in public. My only option is a Port-a-Potty, and I don't think I can put my shame on hold long enough to poop in one.
Guess who gets to go to therapy? This chick right here. 72 hr lock up fucking sucks. If you don;t want to kill yourself before, you will after! :/
Rave: I'm finally going to get some child support for the first time in 6 months! Rant: I really feel bad that the government is freezing his bank account to take it. He's gonna be screwed, and I don't wish ill on him at all.
Rave: Moving out with only one of my current roommates. So no more couples doing the baby talk and pda. Or girls acting like fucking high school drama queens. ALSO no more flooded basement.
RAVE: I'd like to shake the hand of the man who invented Hendrick's Gin. Ok, you're right. I'd give him a blow job in thanks for creating such a smooth, amzingly hangover-free, delicious beverage that literally hits every single spot on my tongue. It's the most sensual lover I've ever had. RAVE: I'd also like to shake the hand* of PhilaLawyer whose thoughts on gin made me discover my dear Hendricks (see signature). RAVE: Said gin is making me really truly enjoy a beautiful night of live streaming Phish. The boy is actually at the concert and while that sucks, I have our friends over grilling and laughing and dancing and drinking and other things while he's away. I'm jealous that he's in Woodstock right now but I don't have to pee outside tonight. Yay! P.S. Pardon any misspellings...I'm way too high to give a shit. *You're right, I'd probably blow him too.
Rant: There are only 3 stores in the county that sell aquavit. Only one had it. they only had the absolute worst brand out there. I usually don't need to take an advil in the middle of the night.
Rant: Fuck this online class. Seriously, I've heard people rave about this professor, but so far he is a giant dick. Every online class I've taken has questions where we can find answers in the book or in the provided materials. If we have a question, we email or message the professor, who gets back to us within 24 hours with an answer. This professor goes out of his way to pull numbers out of his ass that don't make sense and give us problems that only loosely associated with what we learned in the book. This is a MAJOR problem when you're doing complex math in an economic setting. When I emailed him with a question, he said he could only help me if I came to his office hours. The following is a spoilered rant I want to email to my professor right now: Spoiler Hey fucko! I'm taking an online course specifically so I DON'T have to drive two fucking hours to get help! Its your fucking job to communicate with us via email and online chat so that you can help us! That is the point of distance fucking learning. That is why it is called distance learning, its in the fucking name! Jesus Christ, just answer my question in an email back! It isn't like I asked for the answer outright, just some clarification on the buttfuck retarded numbers you give us to try to trick us. Oh, and hey, funny story: a professor that has to put trick questions on quizzes and tests is a professor that doesn't know dick about teaching and wants to just feel smarter than everyone else. Go fuck yourself, cum-guzzler. While I'm at it, dickface? How about you fucking grade our quizzes and get them back to us in a timely manner. There are only 20 people in this online course, and it is only 5 weeks long. We have to bust our asses to get our shit done before your absurd deadlines, so how about you return the favor. Just because you don't see us doesn't mean we don't still want to know what our fucking grades are. It'd be nice to know where I'm standing grade wise so I know whether or not I have trek all the fucking way to campus to make sure I get an A on this quiz or not. Oh, and how about you pay for my fucking gas to get there and back, eh, cock-gobbler? Its not like its expensive to drive that much. Rave: I somehow managed to get straight A's last semester, despite all my bitching and whining that I was fucked. Luckily, that means I don't need anything more than a C in this class, so I'm just going to wing it and do the best I can. I'm also going to rip this professor several brand new assholes come evaluation time.
Rave: Wonderful date night with The Dude. He likes me, he held my hand a lot, we snuggled...it was cute. In fact, there was this moment when his dog & I were curled up on his chest/lap and I looked up at him and he had this face of perfect contentment and then he smiled at me...it was perfect. RANT: Until he farted on my face while I was tossing his salad. Yes, y'all read that correctly. I am totally cool with farts...just not face-farts. He's damn lucky I like him, because that was not cool. Not at all.