Sometimes...

Sometimes you are just trying to get through day. Go through the motions. Not question why or how you are where you are, or whether the decisions you made were the DUMBEST effing decision you could have made but at that moment they made sense. It is sort of like ordering spicy curry and a shot of tequila and then getting home and praying for guidance in the bathroom. Well, I have been feeling like I have a burning butthole and an unyielding gag reflex since classes started back up. I. WANT. IT. TO. STOP. Just a few more months. Just a few more months. Just. a. few. more...monthssss. So how do you survive moments like this? You think about what you would rather be doing. For me that usually ranges from just watching tv and giving in to my body's natural inclination to blow to the size of blimp to who I would rather have brunch with on a veranda of an antebellum mansion.
Today, my brain cuts off in the middle of a practice question about treating a child's burn (because that is not important at all!!) and switched to Dream brunch with George Takei, William Shatner, Patrick Stewart, Gandalf (Sorry, Ian, but you are Gandalf!), and some no name person to round it out. I mean, all that fabulousness would need some doldrum or else the universe would collapse on itself. We would have sweet tea and say "Ohhh Myyy!" HEY! A girl can dream! Then, I come back to reality. All I have to chat with is my laptop screen that has a blank word document and a blinking cursor cursing at me with every pulse. Sometimes, you just have to let the mind wander to get back to reality. Unfortunately, it is wandering more and more. I guess if it keeps wandering to places that involve sweet tea and fabulously hilarious people, I can deal with. BUT sometimes... I don't know. Just sometimes...

Quick note on dating, marriage, love, CAKE

1) Dating while in an intense program=HARD!! I am glad I am doing this solo now. Much less stress. More time to focus on me and what I need/want. I had initially planned to stay single before starting this program and then went against my gut instincts. Lesson from this: follow your instincts!
2) Marriage: I love Four Weddings on TLC! I miss Bridezilla. :( I think that about covers it. I don't have the time to get into that.
3) Love:...It is in the title because it seemed appropriate.
4) Cake: I LOVE CAKE! Oh, this is where love comes in. LMAO!!!!

Anyway, I am neck deep in this program. I am confident that the right person at the right time will come along. Until then, I will continue to work towards my goal of being a badass research nurse.

OH PS: Downton Abbey! Mr. Bates, we are over your storyline. Sybil, your father and his prejudice against all things lower class, killed you. It was tragic. Edith, ma'am, I feel so bad for you! However, I am loving the fact that you are turning into a full fledged feminist. Everyone else, carry on!

Douchebags and A$$holes

So, I am sitting here watching A&E tv as Nemo bitch slaps everyone for kidnapping his daddy. I am watching Flipping Vegas. Two guys are flipping a 12,000 sqft house. It should take 6 months, but they are demanding it is done in 9 weeks. Let that sink in. These have to be two the biggest tools ON. THE. PLANET! These two guys were obviously the trust fund babies that had keggers,  saw women as their sock for the night, and had daddy pay their way through school. I don't know their names because every time I see their faces I just see "Douchebag: The Investor" and "Tool: the flipper."

Douchebag looks the female supervisor, whose father owns the company, in the face and says "No offense but you are a girl. This guy is wearing a toolbelt. He looks like the super. You don't. I am not sure I want you to run this." EXCUSE ME!!!!!!!!!! Woah! Woah! Now, I know I would have smacked him with my pink, flowery hammer. She handles it like a mature adult as those two nitwits continue to be condescending assholes. She tells him that she has been there since 6am getting the men and the work organized. They continue to be assholes.

Then!!! they decide to show off for the cameras by putting down the Starbucks (ugh I don't even want Starbucks after them!) and "help" the crew. They almost kill the camera man!!! They pull this 20ft steel piece of god knows what (rich people build some useless shit!) down from ceiling and almost crush the cameraman!

AND THEN they yell at the owner of the construction company because the roof on their 12,000 square foot house is not complete. So let's do the math: day 3 of construction and you expect them to basically build, demo, plough, plant, cement, rewire, repair, and kiss your ass while rebuilding a roof on a mansion in 3 days?! They look this owner of the construction company, whose daughter they insulted, in the face as they sip soy lattes and say "DO YOU NOT SEE THE RAIN CLOUDS!? It is going to rain. My roof isn't finished." All the poor man could say was "I see the clouds. I know. We are working on it. It will be finished before it rains." Then they yell at him because it will not be completed in 3hrs and the driveway is not the way they think it should be. The camera pans to the "driveway". It was a pile of dirt and a pit. The crew manager's response "We are still constructing it..."

Douchebag and Tool act like 12 year olds with daddy's checkbook terrorizing the poor maid. It is safe to say, I would kick them both in their tiny testicles.

Sorry that my return was on a negative note, but good lord, people suck!

*Written, but poorly proofread by me*

I am alive

I just want to say that I have not abandoned my blog. Life has been insane!!! The hope is to post something within a week or two. I have a few things I want to get off my chest. Everything from poor Edith to Honey Boo Boo and Skanky Minaj.  Until then, I will keep Whispering if you promise to keep listening.
Pssst....

The Great Moving Depression: Day Two

A few days after my adventure with movers extraordinaires, I rented a car to pick up my child (hamster) and the last few items from the old apartment.  My buddy agreed to help me move some furniture I was donating to the neighborhood scavengers and take stuff to the new apartment.  He is such a doll! Well, I leave my massive bedroom in the new apartment and travel about 45 minutes via public transportation (car rental didn't start for a few hours).  The plan was to get there 2 hours early and have everything ready to go when my buddy arrived. Yeah... Okay so here's where things go slightly awry.

First off, it was hot and humid.  I was sweating like a hoe in patent leather, crotchless panties, sitting in a Southern Baptist Church with her lesbian lover.  Of course, I thought the best way to dress for a move in terrible heat was to wear jeans... JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE!

So I arrive at the apartment at 1145am.  I started patting myself on the back from getting there in a timely manner.  And then I realized I did not have my keys.

The Great Moving Depression: Day One

Recently, I moved out of my cute little studio into an unfortunate but tolerable 2 bedroom apartment with a complete stranger in order to save money for school.  I really would like to have a career instead of a job, so I have to make some sacrifices... That is an entirely different post of its own! Anyway, it is just for summer, so I think I can survive. The unrealized level of filth and cluelessness was unknown to me for obvious reasons.  I moved 90% of my things using a very reputable (*cough* cheap *cough*) moving service I found on CL aka robabitch.com, hoesforchange.com, and weirdosunited.org.  One of the movers seems like a nice guy.  He was quiet but respectful. If I were to overlook the unfortunate neck tattoo, I would say he was cute.  That is until he removed his cap and revealed the glory that was his face tattoo.  It was clASSy with a capital ASS! In the middle of his otherwise cute face sat two crosses: one of them so elegantly placed upside down **SWOON/Le Sigh**.  Such an unfortunate situation! Anyway, as they packed the van with my stuff, I kept running the statistics on the chances of me being robbed, stabbed, or sold to the highest bidder at a street gang auction.  I kept coming up with pretty decent odds of that happening, but not enough to call off the move. HEY! I LIVE IN BOSTON! When it is time to move, you will sell your right knee cap for a cheap mover in an otherwise expensive city that gets away with scamming you into accepting dumps as fancy apartments.  Judgement free zone over here, people!

If Jerry Springer Hosted American Idol...

...It would go a little something like this:
A friend and I were on a subway recently.  Behind us was a lovely, handsome, silver fox that outfoxes Sean Connery and Anderson Cooper.  He was on the phone with his lady love.  He wanted her to come see a live band perform. The band he started.  He wanted to show her off and prove to the world he had himself a beautiful, sexy, woman whom he loved.

Now, let's leave make believe land and enter the harsh world of reality.  Imagine a scruffy, dirty, dingy, drunk, probably smelly, drunk, inebriated, slurring, dirty, and did I mention drunk Rico Suave.  The only way to truly explain this conversation to you is to just provide you with the transcript.

"Baby, I love you.  I love, love, love you. You my woman. I want to take you to this concert to see a band... a band I started. (pause)  No, fuck them other bitches. I want to show you off 'cause baby I love you. I could have any bitch I want, but I love you, girl. Baby, baby, baby (pause) Girl, do you know how much I love you!?!?! Even after you stabbed me, I am still with you.  Do you know how much I love you!?!  (pause) Baby... baby... come on girl! HELLO! HELLO! (I think he lost connection because we are underground) Hey, hey... well then fuck you! If you are ashamed to be seen with me, then don't come, but if you ain't then, let me know 'cause I love you, and I want you to come. (Who is he talking to? At this point that phone couldn't have one damn bar! anyway...) I love you!..."

Here is where he serenades her to prove that he A) really did start a band and B) in case she didn't know, loves her more than them other bitches.  I couldn't make out a fair amount of it because Brothers Jim Bean and Bud Light were singing all of over his melodious voice.

The sorrow is my hand
(gibberish)
IN MY HAND!!! 
Your heart is filled with sorrow in my hand 
(profanity filled gibberish)


"That's how much I love you. If you are ashamed of me, then don't come, but baby I want you to come! Baby, baby..."


Unfortunately, it was time to exit the train, so we do not know if he ever actually got her to come or if he ever realized that the phone was disconnected like 4 stops ago.  Whomever she was, she is a lucky lady.

JERRY! JERRY! JERRY! JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!