Thursday, October 25, 2012

Dishwasher Blues

Putting away dishes in the dark is a good idea for several reasons.

A.) You don't know if they actually got clean or not. And you don't care.

2.) You can ignore how the rest of the kitchen looks like a disaster area, and still feel accomplished because you put the freakin' dishes away.

In conclusion.) When you are overwhelmed by the task at hand, you can take a nap. Right there in the kitchen.

And I can't really find a way to tie that into a life lesson.


I hate doing dishes. So much! And I was so excited when I moved into my new apartment, because it came equipped with a dishwasher! Woot woot! Raise the roof!!

But then, the dishwasher kinda sucked in a monumental sort of way, and didn't wash so much as it rinsed. Boooo! Put that roof back down!!

Ergo, I was doing the dishes before I put them into the dishwasher. And that's the most ridiculous thing I have ever done. Probs not. But it's in the top 17.

But, seriously! Don't label it as a "dishwasher" when it does not wash!  We have the technology to go to the moon!! And clearly, we are not utilizing that at current, so let's redirect our focus onto bigger and cleanlier things! 

The 'Merician people have voted! And they want an appliance that does it's job!! I don't want to have to outsource to the sink!! But I will do it if I have to. Oh, yes, I will.

Friday, October 19, 2012

Pitter Ponderings

So, today I was talking with my good friend, Romeo, The Kiosk Man. I don't actually know his name, but his kiosk is directly in front of Teavana, my location of employment. He is a small Turkish man who sells motorized toy boats and helicopters, sheets, and purses. To my knowledge, he owns three hats and only two pairs of jeans. (But, to be fair, one of those pairs might be three separate pairs of jeans, all sewn into one.) He is also in love with my roommate.
Their love story is the reason behind giving him the name Romeo. 

Would you like to hear the story? (Dora pauses awkwardly waiting for your response) 

GREAT! (She says even though you said no)

          Once upon a time, in far off city named Champagne*, Illinois, there lived a barista name Stacia*. Stacia worked in a mall and during her shift would make rounds to all the stores, seeing if any of the mall employees wanted to purchase a drink.
          One day, Stacia asked The Kiosk Man if he would like a drink. He replied in the affirmative and she began taking his order. This was nothing unusual. They had carried out the same routine time and time before. However, today The Kiosk Man had a special question.
          "What is your name?" TKM queried.
          "Stacia!" Stacia answered.
          TKM quickly rebutted this, "No. That is not your name."
         Stacia was confused. Does he think I'm someone else? she pondered.
         So she asked, "Who did you think I was?"
         "Juliet," he answered swiftly and boldly, "For I am Romeo."
And, they lived happily ever after!! 

*Some names and places have been changed to protect identities from being compromised, and myself from the vengeful wrath of my roommate.

So, there you have it. True. Love.

Anywho, Romeo, TKM and I were talking today about Stacia and whether or not she had a boyfriend. Then the topic of my love life was called into question.  -_-

"No," I admitted bitterly ('cause it was just one of those days), "I'm not in a relationship."

But, then he asked why. And at first , I was all like, "Well, I daily make it my goal to purposely be the most undesirable human being this world has ever known. As you can see, it's really working out for me. Thanks for asking." But, after the initial sarcastic response, I seriously considered the question.

It's not like I've never thought about it before. I have. But, today, as I handed out samples, I really pondered that question.

Here are some reasons I came up with:

1.) When I meet people, I immediately become androgynous, so as to provide them with whatever they need from me as a friend, thus resulting in them not leaving me. And ergo, I don't think of them being as anything more than buddies, good friends, compadres.

2.) I'm not who I want to be yet, and therefore feel that I'm not ready to be in a relationship. 

Number 1 will have to be a deliberate mind set change. But the second one.....I don't know. I don't know how to change that. Who I want to be is changing everyday. And can I really say that someday I will completely flawless? I would never expect that from my significant other. So why do I think I must achieve perfection? 

I really think it all comes back to the problem on which a lot of the horror of puberty could be blamed: I don't know if I like myself, mainly because I'm not somebody else. 

How do I come to a place where I accept myself, yet still strive to be better? I know that's what I want, and I know all the cliched answers. But, I have no practical knowledge of how to work towards that. 

So. That's what I'm going to be pondering this week. 

Stay beautiful errbody!

Friday, October 5, 2012

So on and so forth

Let's just revisit the claims I made last time I blogged it up. 
Ew. That sounds gross. Say it out loud. 
See? Gross.
Take 2: Let's revisit the claims I made when last I endeavored to blog. 
In this next week I will:
Strike up real conversations with my coworkers.
Actually talk to my barista.
Say hello to my neighbors.
And, finally, join a group of some kind.
And I will write about it.
Alright, it's on the internet. So I have to do it.

So, here we all are. Before I comment on my misadventures, I would just like to say that I dominated this. Like a boss. Like a socially awkward boss. 

Numero Uno! Strike up a real conversation with my coworkers. 
This one was harder than I assumed it would be. As an American, I am prone to idle blather. Chitchattering small talk to fill empty space. HOWEVER! Being the social beast that I have always prided myself on being, I managed to talk with my coworker about boring politics, and we're planning on working out together.  CHECK.

Numero Dos! - Actually talk to my barista.
This one was a bit of a cheat. My best friend/roommate is a barista. Therefore, I talk to my barista all the time. But, as I frequently frequent her location of gainful employment, I have managed to get to know a couple of the other baristas. Now, we aren't buddies, but I do wave to them and know their names. Check? I think yes.

Numero Tres! - Say hello to my neighbors.
Alright. I would just like to point out that I live in the ghetto of Urbana, IL. Clearly, talking to some of my neighbors is inadvisable at best. Nevertheless, I have overcome the restrictions of social stigmas and common sense. Consequently, I formally met Satan and Lucifer (This is how they presented themselves.). These two upstanding gentlemen are our upstairs neighbors. They like to smoke on the patio and talk to unsuspecting neighbor girls. They also enjoy smoking substances, that may or may not be entirely legal, in the bathroom. I know this because the smell drifts into OUR bathroom, and I get the munchies. A grand time is had by all. Ch. Eck.

Numero Cuatro! - I became a volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club! It was frightening and painful. But, I do believe I'm a better person for it. Or I will be. When I regain feeling in my  legs. Initially, I wasn't really sure if it counted as a group, buuuuut Imma checkity check it off the list. 

Whew! That was easier but simultaneously harder than I thought it would be. The lesson to be learned here today is that even if you have a second hand high from your neighbors' pot addiction, you can make pseudo friends and be tortured by small children who want to "play" with your hair. 

And, at the end of the day, isn't that what we all want?