i was told there'd be booze.

What in GD hell is this?

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 12:40:36 -0400

$432 for books. My algebra book itself was $137.

Insane. What a scam.

What also sucks is that I can't open up my totally interesting-looking Humanities text, because it's shrink-wrapped and I won't get a full refund if I open it and then find out that the professor has switched materials or something. Do you know how torturous it is to have a book and not be able to read it? It's like my own personal hell.

I'm excited about the weekend. Kelli will be in town for her birthday from today until Monday or so. Of course, she's bringing my nephew...happy, happy, joy, joy! He's started to pull himself up to stand in his crib, and now it's all he wants to do. That and chew on his feet.

Brian and I are hanging out again on Saturday. I have no clue what we're going to do, but I'm sure that lots of talking will be involved. He puts up with me like that.

Then, of course, there's Girls' Night Out with Kristi and Lindsay, maybe some others. Again, no idea what's going to transpire, but there's never a dull moment with these ladies.

I've become proficient at list-making. I'm trying to become more organized in all aspects of my life, like balancing my checkbook so I don't overdraft my account for the hundredth time, or making a grocery list and actually taking it with me to the store. Slowly, I'm seeing a difference. I don't fret so much when I have my daily list spread out in front of me. It's all there, in perfect order. I feel a wonderful sense of accomplishment as I draw lines through completed tasks.

One of the things I have to do tomorrow is drop by the Goodman and talk to the curator. I've tried to contact her this week about the volunteer work, but I had no luck. Basically, here's what happened on Saturday last: Brian and I had gone up to look around, and I had mentioned my former internship to him and lamented the fact that I didn't stick around long enough to really have a chance at curator. We ended up going in and talking to the current curator for a while. When she found out that I had previous experience at the museum, she pounced on me and offered some volunteer work and, get this, maybe the curator spot when she leaves in a couple of years. Now, I don't really plan on being in Tyler that long, but it's still something to think about.

Uh, hello? Cosmos? Are you fucking with me? Offering me a post at the first museum I fell in love with? A post that includes sorting through the attics and closets for treasures, putting displays together, and helping with tours? Ladies and gentlemen, it's all I can do not to die from a happiness-induced aneurysm.

I think the best part is....I'll get my own little pair of white cotton gloves again. I do love those things.

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I dislike most people most of the time. Thanks to retail. (lots of cursing ahead. fair warning.)

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 11:16:41 -0400

Well, maybe that's an exaggeration. But when you witness a coworker, a friend, get treated so badly that she starts to cry thanks to a random asshole customer, you start to realize that a large portion of this country is greedy, asinine, cruel, and basically NOT VERY NICE.

Don't think that just because we're twenty-somethings working in retail, you can walk all over us. Hey, guess what? We're working two jobs and putting ourselves through school and we deserve respect. What the fuck have you done lately? Yeah, we make shit for money, but we're just trying to get by with some dignity.

Here's some advice to America's clueless consumers: Get a fucking clue, get the cell phone away from your ear, put a smile on your fucking face, and fucking treat us like humans, not your personal servants. Pick up after yourself. Put things back where they belong. When I greet you, fucking acknowledge me. I do not answer to, "Hey!" I have a bloody name. Don't bitch about prices...there's not a fucking thing I can do about it. Don't show up and expect to be able to browse when it's five minutes before we close. We don't get paid overtime so that you can look around at your leisure and then not fucking buy anything. Don't you have better things to do?

Oh, and watch your idiotic offspring. Put them on a leash, please. My mother would have beaten me in the middle of the store if I'd acted the way your little sticky-fingered, whining monsters do. No wonder this world is going to shit. If these children are our future, I want nothing to do with it.

I'm moving to the middle of the fucking forest in Nova Scotia or something. Fuck.

P.S. I think we all should be required to work a retail job for two years, so that everyone can experience being treated like shit. Maybe then, we'd realize how much it hurts.

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Wasn't expecting that...

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 00:12:34 -0400

I guess I'm just stupid when it comes to inter-continental travel, but I just found a ticket to Athens, Greece where I'd end up paying almost five dollars more in taxes alone than for the actual airfare. o__0 Is this normal?

Total cost: $1390.89
Airfare: $693.00
Taxes: $697.89

Damn. But here's the good part: there's a 12-hour delay....IN LONDON. That's like a little mini-trip in itself! IN LONDON.

Before you get your panties all twisted, let me clarify that I'm not going to Athens or London anytime soon. I was just playing around online, to see what my options were if I was able to save enough money. Morocco still looks like a sure bet for late 2009/early 2010, though. And that includes a 6-hour delay in Amsterdam!

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I can't make this stuff up.

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 02:48:53 -0400

I was sitting over at a friend's house tonight, enjoying some lovely coffee with a healthy splash of Bailey's, when I get a text from a number that I kinda recognize. It says, "Come up to the pub ;-)". I think for a moment, then it hits me. I've seen that number before...and it's Date Guy. I haven't talked to him AT ALL in like, two months. What the hell?

I didn't respond, since he and I were not exactly compatible. But here's the sorta funny kicker...I was at his sister's apartment, which made it slightly weird. I don't think he knows we're friends. I think we're gonna keep it that way.

Got my bathing suit tonight, but I couldn't find the one I wanted, so I got this one:

Well, I'm a little bit rounder than that....

It actually looks pretty fab, if I may say so. Gotta kick up the walks/jogs a little and get rid of the last of the flab. I'm very happy with it. Let me be honest...I've never worn anything this skimpy before. Ever. Should be a unique experience.

I'm proud of myself for getting so much done today. Took my car in for a tune-up (she's such a good girl), got the bathing suit and some other stuff, got my Dad a gift for Father's Day, dropped off an insurance payment, picked up my check at the music store, donated plasma, rented a couple of movies I've wanted to see...a very good day.

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Less violence?

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 16:01:15 -0400

I just read the question of the day, but I already had this entry in my head, and it goes against everything that today's QotD stands for.

I may have a bit of verbal road rage.

I keep it to myself, I don't roll down the windows, I rarely honk. Everything I say stays within the confines of my dear little car.

For example, I was driving to Target today, singing along to The Hush Sound, happy as can be, when Country Bumpkin Jackass in front of me decides to suddenly brake for no apparent reason, and the light right in front of him is green. Green means go.

"La-da-DOOOOO-la-da-YOU F*CKING ASSHOLE WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU DOING?!?! GO!!!!! STUPID F*CKING JERK!! AAAAAAAGH!!!"

He's at a full stop now, on the cell phone, looking up at the street signs. There are horns going off everywhere, only fueling my anger and thirst for fresh blood. Fresh Country Bumpkin blood. Finally, FINALLY, he turns onto the road to our right.

Obviously, I am out of the running for the Purple Ribbon Project poster child.

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Too tired to post a blog.

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Sun, 25 May 2008 04:32:55 -0400

So here are some funny pictures from tonight. More later. Must get to bed.

Edit: Okay, I'm rested and refreshed and ready to blog. Last night started out innocently enough...a group of us went bowling: moi, Kristi, Jessica, Lindsay, Michelle, Jessica's husband Phil, and Phil's friend Mike. Not much to report here other than we drank beer, smoked cigarettes, and I managed not to embarrass myself too badly. No dropping the ball this time. Towards the end, we decided to head up to the club to play some pool, while the guys went home to play video games or something.

Literally twenty seconds after we sit down at a table tucked away in the corner (hellOOO-oooo, we're tucked away so we don't have to deal with stupid people!!), these two complete ignorant rednecks start with the inappropriate comments and such. One tried to grope Jessica, and tried to give me pointers on proper use of a pool cue. Ass. Oh, and the stupid fuck was there with his girlfriend, who got pissed (rightfully so) and went to the bathroom. Then he asked Lindsay to go in and get her. Like I said, stupid fuck. So Lindsay goes in and says something to the effect of, "Hey, I'm looking for the girlfriend who's pissed at the boyfriend." Anyway. After this mess, Jessica had to go up to Stupid Fuck's friend, who was staring at us while we played pool, and say "Uh, hey, are you waiting on this table?" When he replied that he was just watching, I believe she said, "Okay, well you need to cut this shit out." Correct me if I'm wrong, Jess.

Long story short, we got trashed and sobered up by busting our signature moves on the dance floor, where I believe we made quite a spectacle of ourselves. See pictures above...

Oh, but the best part was after we left at closing. I gave Jess a ride home, and while heading down Troup Highway, she had me pull alongside Kristi's car (who was actually two lanes over) so she could moon them. Okay, I'm going 45mph and she climbs into my backseat, pulls down her pants, and literally sticks her ass out the window. Way out. From what I can remember, the conversation went a bit like this:

Jess: "Go! Go!"
Me: "I'm trying, there are cars in front of me!"
Jess: "Go! Go!"
Me: "Shit!"
Jess: "A-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...WHOOOOOOOOOO!"
Me: "Oh, my God!"
Jess: "A-ha-ha-ha-ha! Speed up!"
Me: "Oh, my God!"
Jess: "They'd better fucking see this!"
Me: "Oh, my God! We're about to turn. Hold on!"
Jess: "Honk at them! Honk! HONK!"
Me: (turns, honking, while a little red car zips in between my car and Kristi's) "That's the funniest shit ever! Oh, my God!"
Jess: (tries to climb back into front seat, gets stuck with her nose pressed against the dashboard)
Me: "Should I stop?"
Jess: "No, dude, just go, go, go!"
Me: "Oh, my God. Dude. Kristi'd better have fucking seen that."
Jess: "I'm going to call her when we get to my house."
Me: "I just witnessed the most badass mooning ever! I have to pee."
Jess: "A-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh, shit, I forgot to pull my panties down! Noooo! Oh, wait, it's a thong...it still counts."

So. We get to her house, where the guys are drunk and playing Rock Band, and call Kristi. And guess what?

They didn't see it. Any of it.

All that effort. Pointless. Except for the little red car. I bet it was a night they'll never forget.

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I may need to rethink this.

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Mon, 19 May 2008 10:40:48 -0400

It's funny...I've always wanted to go gray early in life. I think silver hair is so chic and elegant.

Then I realized this morning, as I was wiping the sleep out of my eyes and frowning at my reflection in the mirror, that I might have cursed myself.

I found a gray. No actually, I found a white. Snow white. Right on my part. Who knows how long its been there.

I don't know what to do about it. Pull it and burn it? Take pride in it, knowing it's probably there because I bust my ass and stress out 24/7? Run to the nearest CVS and buy some dark brown hair dye?

Help a bitch out, sisters...

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In which I tell you about a bunch of useless crap that only I find entertaining.

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Sun, 18 May 2008 01:01:23 -0400

Tonight, Barnes & Noble cafe:

Me: Hi, I'll take this book and a venti coffee frappuccino, please.

Cute Cafe Guy 1: Sure, will that be all? No cookies, cupcakes, various other things that will make you feel bad about yourself tomorrow? (<---that last part might be an exaggeration)

Me: No, thanks.

Cute Cafe Guy 2: Heeey! What're you up to?

Me: (looks around, trying to make way for the person he's talking to, and sees no one) Uh, nothing...you?

Cute Cafe Guy 2: Not much, just making your coffee. Venti coffee frap, right?

Me: Uh, yeah.

(several minutes pass)

Cute Cafe Guy 2: So, you always order this, right?

Me: Usually.

Cute Cafe Guy 2: (hands over drink, does not let go) And what's your name?

Me: (I'm kinda deaf, so I wasn't sure I heard right) Uh, pardon?

Cute Cafe Guy 2: Your name. What is it?

Me: Oh! Aubrey.

Cute Cafe Guy 2: Hi, Aubrey. I'm Donnie. (I think that's what he said. As I mentioned, I'm kinda deaf.)

Me: Nice to meet you.

Donnie (??): Nice to meet you. See you next time?

Me: Sure. Goodnight.

Cute Cafe Guy 1: Have a good one!

Me: EEK! (runs away)

God, I feel like this means one of two things...either that I've become one of those weird "regulars", and they want to know my name so that they can accurately fill out a police report when I'm mistaken as a stalker, or perhaps that Donnie(??) has taken an interest. You know what? He's probably just a very nice young man (VERY young...maybe 20 or 21) who takes an active interest in his customers. I think I'm going to make a sign to wear around my neck that says, "Hi, I'm Aubrey. I am a 26-year-old divorcee who smokes like a chimney and gets strung out on coffee at least four times a week. Please, don't display behavior that could, in any way, resemble flirting...it only confuses me. Thank you." Leslie's all like, "You know, maybe they know you now as the hot chick who comes in all the time." Pshaw...what-the-hell-ever. I look a lot better than I used to, but I ain't no hot chick.

I have seriously screwed up one of my toes, and am currently hobbling around like a pimp, or possibly a penguin. I skinned it pretty badly while rummaging around in the dark, and I have nightmares now about gangrene and amputation. Thank God I just got a tetanus shot last month.

This was my eighth day in a row of working two jobs, and I have asked to be scheduled every weekend at the music store until I drop, in addition to my M-F at the bank. As of right now, I'll be working 20 of the next 21 days. Lots of money and no time to spend it. That's my plan, anyway. I may die of exhaustion long before then.

Betty and Gio

My friends and I have a habit of falling in love with fictional characters or celebrities. Leslie's got Mr. Darcy and Edward Cullens, Kristi's got Orlando Bloom, and I have too many to name. I recently became a fan of Ugly Betty, and am trying to catch up on all the episodes that I've missed. Now I've got a thing for Gio, who may be the most perfect fictional character ever created. I want one. He's sweet, funny, he can dance, has a killer accent, and he genuinely falls for Betty, the girl that so many people find unattractive and frumpy (they're all assholes, I say). What a fairytale. SPOILERS AHEAD, KINDA!! He's got this great line in the most recent episode, and my little heart went *wibble-wibble* all over it. "I don't want to be the rebound guy. I want to be the guy." God dang it. That's the best line ever. I'm going to cry.

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I don't know if I can ever eat sausage again.

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Sat, 17 May 2008 02:26:22 -0400

Teeth

After work tonight, Yesi and Julie and Jess and another guy from work and I went over to Yesi's house for Taco Bell and a movie rental. Jess and I stood outside and smoked while everyone else went in to Blockbuster to pick something out. They came out with Atonement and Teeth. We ended up watching Teeth.

Oh.

Oh...so screwed up. And so good.

But so screwed up.

Seriously. I'm not a guy, and I was squealing in agony. Talk about some nasty, nasty carnage. The script was good, the characters were good, and it was actually something I'd watch again, especially since I know now when to look away. I think Yesi said she threw up a little in her mouth at one point.

We all agreed that it's the perfect movie to rent after a particularly bad date/relationship. I wonder if the main character could qualify as a superhero?

Oh, my god.

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What in the.....???

nobody@vox.com(Aubrey O.) — Thu, 15 May 2008 23:47:30 -0400

Moonlight

They canceled three of my favorite shows. THREE. I am livid.

Moonlight, Men in Trees (saw that one coming, they've been shuffling it around for ages), and Women's Murder Club. Gone. No more.

You know, I get that we don't all watch the same stuff. We don't all like the same shows. But sheesh, give some shows a flipping chance. The X-Files was just a cult hit until a few seasons in, and look, there's another movie coming out this summer.

Men in Trees

Oh, we all know what's going to take the place of these dearly departed programs...reality effing TV. Maybe Dancing with the Stars: Rehab Edition, or perhaps Pin the Crime on the Famous Athlete. I watch TV to escape reality, not have my face shoved in it...if you want to call this junk "reality". They toss aside lovely little gems like Wonderfalls (remember that one?) and Firefly to make room for shows that, at least in my case, make me feel bad that I am not a Kardashian or that I am not being pursued by 25 eligible bachelors.

Women's Murder Club

Screw you, Hollywood. You suck.

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