I really don't understand how it's the 23rd already. Well, 24th as of 19 minutes ago. It seems like just yesterday I was paying May's rent, and now I'm days away from having to pay June's rent, and have close to zero funds with which to do it.

I feel guilty, because I did take a few days off. Mother's Day I'd planned to take off months ago; not that I even saw my mother, she flaked out on me as usual. But that was the night I went to see Fleetwood Mac, I bought the ticket in February. There was a Friday I gave away because I was feeling horrendous; there was a Sunday night shift I gave away to go see Dane Cook. At least I didn't pay for the ticket for that. And then there were two nights, including today, that I wasn't needed because they'd over-scheduled to have coverage for the patio and then the weather was cold and rainy. Shit, that's five days off. No wonder I'm behind. At least two of them weren't my fault, and one was planned far in advance. And actually, the days that I gave away my coworkers told me were damn slow, like $30 on the Friday, so I'd still be screwed.

I should have started listing shit on eBay a lot sooner; I kept meaning to, not realizing how late in the month it was getting. I've got 21 things listed now and another 11 so far starting in the morning. I probably won't get the money in time for rent, unless people are exceedingly prompt. Luckily, my Aussie ex is willing to help me again; he's very sweet that way.

Part of the problem is my damned credit card bills, which are all set up for automatic pre-approved debits, which is seriously freaking obnoxious. This is why I need another job, not that I've so far had responses on the few apps I've put out. Oh well. Nothing I can do but keep putting all the money I get right into my checking account and watch it siphon away.


Have been for a week, actually.

Last week, I was just lazing around my house when I got a text from somebody I work with asking if I wanted to hang out. I didn't really feel like going anywhere, nor like having anybody over, so I kept trying to stall him. He's one of those work friends, for one thing; for another I just didn't feel like dealing with anybody. But I felt bad for him--he doesn't have a lot of friends.

So I ended up having company, which, okay, whatever. We watched some Youtube videos, bitched about work a bit, blah blah blah. At one point I heard my phone chime and picked it up to find a text message .... from the guy sitting on my couch, a foot away. It said, "Want to make out?"

I laughed and said something like "what the fuck?", assuming he was kidding, and loaded up another Youtube video. After a while we started playing MarioKart, which involved much swearing and laughing and at one point me pouring a giant glass of ice water on him for cheating.

I heard my phone chime twice more, but ignored it, because I was starting to get a weird feeling. He kept touching me--not in an obvious way, just things like when our legs bumped in to each other he didn't move, he sat a little too close, etc. Between that and the text, I was a bit weirded out, so I just ignored my phone. We played MarioKart for a while and then he went home.

I then checked my phone to find two more texts, one saying "I was being serious." and another saying "You know you want to." I didn't respond; I had no idea what to say. I didn't work with him all week; he came in for dinner tonight and said he was going to eat, unless I was leaving and then there was no reason to stay. I tried to act normal, giving him the usual amount of sarcastic bitchiness and fucking with his soda. It's just awkward.

I feel bad, but I'm sort of glad he's planning on quitting, because I just don't know how to deal with this! See, the thing is this: he's 18. He doesn't even graduate high school until next week! I'm not old enough for that to be flattering, it's just uncomfortable! If he were several years older, well, he's a nice kid. But that's just it, he's a nice kid.

I have no idea how to handle this.


I'm all set for next semester. Done the paperwork to change my major; got registered for classes; decided not to take summer classes after all (despite my earlier sardonic assessment that I'd have to). But I'm excited and actually wish I didn't have to wait three months! I've actually put a lot of ancient history books in my Booksfree queue so that I'll have a bit more background when I go into my ancient history class in the fall. It's going to be interesting taking both world history to 1500 and world history since 1500 at the same time; but there are no other classes I can take without taking those.

The one and only thing that sucks is that I could be done in a year if I didn't have to do two years of foreign language. I tried to test out of first semester French, but was 25 points short of that--not surprising since I haven't taken a French class in ten years. I was surprised I did as well as I did. I'm looking forward to getting back in to languages again; that was something I had a knack for and shouldn't have turned my back on.

Since deciding to go this route, I've felt very ... calm. Well, calm and excited at the same time. Calm in that I feel I'm back in my comfort zone, and excited in that I'm going to enjoy it. After beating my head against a wall with biochemistry etc., trying to force myself through something my heart wasn't in, I'm ready to delve back in to something I'm good at.

In the meantime ... I need to get another job! If I want to go to London in November, and/or buy a car, I need to work more. I'm already working nearly 40 hours a week at the restaurant, so I can't get any more hours there. I don't really want to work more than full time ... but I've done it before, it won't kill me!


So I need to take summer classes if I want to, you know, not get kicked out. Which I knew. What pisses me off is that I applied for summer financial aid a month ago, never heard anything, finally called them ... and get told "Oh, you shouldn't have even been able to apply, you aren't eligible for any summer aid. Good luck getting a private bank loan, loser!"

Lovely. Now, I knew I might not get financial aid. I knew I might have to pay $2000 out of pocket for these two goddamn classes. But if their freaking computer system had been set up right, I wouldn't have even been able to submit the form. And I wouldn't have gotten an email saying "we've got it, talk to you in three weeks!" and therefore waited around.



I was thinking about it, and I realized part on the reason I don't think I'd feel proud if I did get this degree in nutrition is because getting good grades in those classes would require giving answers I don't believe in. And although I realize a certain amount of sucking up/swallowing your opinions in necessary in the world ... the entire focus on my college's nutrition program is something I don't agree with. Okay, not the entire focus; there's some stuff in there that's really about nutrition. But a lot of it is "teh fatz r bad" and "diabetics should eat low fat, high carb" and other things that I know/believe to be wrong. I don't think I'd feel proud of getting a degree by playing along with things I think are outdated and incorrect.

Also, I can practically hear my dad's response to "I'm getting a history degree" already. And I know it's going to upset me. And I don't need the uncertainty creeping into my head again. So ... I'm not going to tell him. Or his results oriented, "it's a destination not a journey" family, either. Oh, I'll have to tell them eventually ... like when I send out graduation invitations!


(This is a sponsored post.)

Sadly, I'm limited to blogger's built-in templates, or ones I jack from other websites. I just don't have the technical know-how to build a sweet-looking page. I used to, back in the day--like back in '93! Back then I could whip up a webpage in HTML from scratch. Then people invented all these fancy buttons and menus and java scripts, and I quit keeping track. Honestly, that's why I turned to Blogger instead of just hosting my own site for all my little ramblings. Maybe someday, though, I'll be a Dooce or a PastaQueen and I'll need to have a kick-ass website. Or, more likely, someday I might just want to have a cool webpage, and might shell out the money for it.

Web Hosting Geeks has a big list of web hosters and designers that could aid me in that, if I chose to do it. Some of the sites are under $10 a month, which I think is really cool. I always thought it would be a lot more expensive. There are even some blog hosting sites that are less than $5 a month.

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For a long time, my goals have pretty much been "pay my bills" and .... well, that's about it. I don't do housework regularly. I made not even scrape Ds in my two classes. The last two school semesters I've started out saying school is going to be a priority ... and ... well ... yeah. I suck. I've slept through or just not gone to most of my class sessions this semester; and I really can't even explain to myself why. Some deep screwed up psychological thing? Just plain laziness? I haven't really known.

See, the insane thing is that I really do enjoy learning stuff. I read books about English history and plug names into family tree programs so I can tell you the exact relationship between Edward Longshanks and Richard II. While studying biochem, I came across the fascinating fact that whales' muscles are brown because they have so much hemoglobin in them, which is what allows them to stay underwater for so long. I then called my mom and my best friend just to tell them this. I've been known to read psychology textbooks for fun. Really! I used to get great grades. My first three years in college were so good, it took flat out failing 37 credits and getting Ds in 14 more before I hit academic probation. So it's not that I'm stupid; it's not that I can't do it. For whatever reason, I've chosen not to.

I thought it started when my life started to fall apart in other ways. I found out something fairly traumatic for me right before my spring 2003 semester ... but I just looked it up and I still passed my classes that semester. I took two classes that summer too, and I passed one. The other one, well, I should've known better than to even attempt something as complicated as organic chemistry, at eight in the morning, in a condensed format, when my boyfriend was in town (he's from another country, so it wasn't a common occurrence). That was just dumb on my part. I passed my classes the following semester, too.

Where did it start going down the drain? Oh, that would be when I changed my major from psychology to nutrition. Or rather, when I chopped out the psychology part--for two years I was doing a double major, but most of my classes had been in the psych category or related things. I'd added the nutrition thing because I did have an interest in it, but I realize now it was an interest in the science behind it, and that the clinical side of it was of no interest to me. I was going to do both psych and nutrition ... but I let my dad's voice in my head overrule me. I let his constant harping about psychology being useless wear me down. I let him going on and on about needing to do something practical worm its way into my brain.

And so I dropped the psychology portion of my major. And that was when I started failing classes. Oh, I wasn't perfect before that--I withdrew from my entire second semester, but that was because I had mono. And I got a couple of Ds before that. But it wasn't until I decided to focus strictly on something "useful" that I really screwed up. My dad insists it's because of my mother leaving him--he says she ruined my life. But I specifically remember calling her at home (like pre-split home, like Home-home) that semester, in a panic because I didn't think I was going to pass things. Sure, it didn't help when they split up; and then I got really sick for a few weeks; and then I got fired from my job because of that, and was unemployed for several months. That was the end of that fall/start of spring for me; not so much fun. But before things exploded, I was already screwing up.

I took a while off, and came back knowing that I didn't want to do nutrition as a career. But I plowed ahead with it because I figured I might as well get a degree in something, and it might as well be something I had a decent start in. Which is true, but it's obviously not good motivation for me. I'm not interested in my classes. Well, okay, biochem is interesting, kinda, but in terms of things like whale muscles--not in terms of being able to identify an amino acide reside by its titration curve. But nutritional assessment? Medical nutrition therapy? Blech. (And that's not even considering the fact that hearing how fatties should be counseled to "eat less and move more" makes me want to gouge eyeballs.) Even if I did struggle through, I don't think I'd feel a sense of accomplishment--because I don't think I'd retain much of it at all.

So what to do? Well, I think it's time to change my major again. Screw studying something "useful". Screw getting done more quickly. I want to study something I'll be proud of, something I enjoy, something that makes me feel like this:

(I freaking love Family Guy, in case you haven't noticed.)

Now .... what is that something going to be? The obvious choice would be psychology; that's what I was doing before, after all. But I already have an associate's degree in psychology, and I don't really feel too much like pursuing it further. I've been struggling with this in the back of my mind for months, honestly, even thoughI hadn't realized how obvious it was when I started tanking classes. I talked to my aunt about it when she was here a couple of weekends ago, and her suggestion was to go through the course catalog and write down the things that interested me--without thinking about a major, or prerequisites, or class times, or anything.

When I did that, the classes I was interested in fell in to three categories; a couple in psychology, a few in language, and quite a few in history. That was almost two weeks ago, and I've been rolling the idea around in my mind since, especially since as part of a history degree you have to choose either a statistics or a language section, and that's perfect. The three things I keep smacking up against that have stopped me from doing it are 1) not jumping into it too fast 2) what the hell would I do with a history degree? and 3) what if I fail at this too.

I've put off doing the paperwork so I don't fall prey to number one; number three is going to pop up regardless because I have no way of absolutely knowing this is right; and number two is one I keep trying to dismiss. School shouldn't just be a means to an end, especially when I don't know what that end is (I still don't know what I want as a career). I should enjoy it if I'm going to do it. And all the classes for a history degree look really interesting!

Plus I can do the language option, and I used to have quite a knack for languages (at least written, I always felt stupid trying to get the accent down). I did three years of French and two of German in high school; I know a little bit of Spanish. I could continue any of those. Or I could do Arabic, Chinese, Italian, Japanese, Latin, or Russian! How freaking cool would it be to learn Russian? Just because I could.

The more I think about it, the more excited I'm getting. I'd like school to be something I look forward to again, instead of something I sleep my way through/totally fail at because I can't be bothered to try. I think I'll make the call for an appointment tomorrow.


And I don't much like marmalade.

Check it out!


It really pisses me off when I just perusing the comments on a blog, which is about weight loss/gain/acceptance and life in general, and some random person has to jump in and basically say "Find Jesus and you'll be happy. He loves you and He's waiting for you!"

Yeah, because that has anything to do with anything. Especially someone talking about how she is happy despite regaining weight because she's realized weight isn't as important as she thought.


I don't know what is with me today, but everything is irritating me. My adorable pets are making me want to scream. The air moving against me is pissing me off. I don't even have music playing because it's all annoying me. My clothes feel scratchy, my hair is making me want to just hack it off with my kitchen scissors .... and I don't know why. Damn.


Not for me, thank god.

First, I found out one of my aunts is getting married this month. Now, they've been "engaged" for a long time, but there's no ring and there was no date, so I think the whole family was hoping she'd change her mind.

Then, a friend of mine found an engagement ring in her boyfriend's sock drawer. She doesn't want it. She was planning on dumping him. Oops!

Lastly, my cousin got engaged. And couldn't be bothered to call me, just like her brother last year. At least with him my grandma told me; this I found out from my dad only because I mentioned my friend. Amusingly, her now-fiance called my father to ask permission, rather than her father! And my cousin did finally text me a few days later. But I still felt left out.

All of this has kind of gotten me down. Not because I want to get married--I sorta think marriage is useless, actually, and that my family is cursed so why bother. But it's gotten me down because I'm 27 and I haven't accomplished anything according to societal markers since graduating high school. Most of the time it doesn't bother me, but occasionally .... occasionally I start listing all the things I've "failed" at. I'm still a waitress, I haven't finished college, I'm not married with kids (not that I want kids), I don't own a car, I don't own a house, I'm still fat.

Okay, I do have an associate's degree, but that's useless and I graduated on accident anyway so I forget I even have it. And I did have a "real" job for one year, and it's not my fault I got laid off, but I just sort of stumbled into it and it didn't feel like a "real" job anyway. I don't even have a boyfriend even if I did have a jonesing for a wedding. Plenty of people don't own a house. And I do technically own a car, but my dad gave it to me, I didn't buy it, so it's not the same. As for the fat thing, I think that's only in there because when I was younger I was so certain that someday, when I had all those things, I'd also have less adipose tissue.

But why do I care? I'm not really sure. Like I said, a lot of times it doesn't bother me. I've had horrible times and great times; I've visited places and done stuff. I guess every once in a while I can't help seeing myself through the eyes of society, though. As if "society" really gives a damn what I've accomplished anyway!