| So strange.. |
[Nov. 29th, 2009|05:30 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  itchy | ] |
I like to consider myself to be...confident. I have a high level of self esteem, and generally consider myself capable of anything I want, provided I can work up the urge to get my ass off of my couch and accomplish something. But bypassing my ego, and my narsicism, and beyond all the arrogance that I display to people around me, I'm realistic.
I know that there has to be limitations to my.. amazingness. I understand that despite what I might want, I'm merely human, and thusly a creature of flaws, despite the fact that I would hardly admit such to anyone's face.
I've begun to doubt myself. Not in a way that's an emo cry for help, or an internet scream for attention.. but in my memory. I've noticed that as I occupy my mind with lists of tasks I must complete, and the overwhelming inflow of knowledge that I am sucking from textbooks, my capability to remember things has gone by the wayside.
Now, that's not to suggest that I forget important things, like where I live, or how many hookers I have tied up in the basement, but more like things like: yesterday was my father's 60th birthday. Or that I should have made reservations for equipment for a presentation.
I find it interesting that things I would not normally 'misplace' on my priority list somehow seem to fall off while I'm not looking, simply because I have so much other crap to worry about.
Don't worry. After I woke up in a cold sweat, I called my Father and informed him that I am the worst daughter ever. <3 |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 26th, 2009|05:58 pm] |
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Would anyone like a google wave invite? |
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| John Waters fans? |
[Nov. 15th, 2009|11:39 am] |
So, he's doing a stand-up thing in Vancouver on December 5th. I've been given the go-ahead, for 65$, to have the chance to meet with this amazing and terrifying man.
But.. I don't want to go alone. Anyone interested in joining me? |
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| Google wave |
[Nov. 14th, 2009|11:55 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  bored | ] |
I have one free invite. Who wants it?!
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| Oh, shit. |
[Nov. 9th, 2009|08:42 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  anxious | ] |
Taking a break. Not that I can really afford it, mind you. The endless number of supply curves and rising and falling marginal utility numbers begs for my attention span, which honestly is nil.
I've been far too worked up, lately.
I'm hooked on energy drinks, again. Tea just doesn't do it for me when I have no time, and way too much cramming to do. I have a feeling I'm going to want to crash on Wednesday, and I am not even allowing myself that minimal pleasure.
No time for my old antics. I can't even remember how to RP anymore, let alone sum up the brainpower to do it. I've resorted to trolling 4chan for hentai lately to help feed my thirst for fucked up plotlines. Thankfully, 4chan always delivers. God bless the internets.
But, I guess that's what hard work's all about. Speaking of which; break's over. Back into this shit. |
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| Just like that, weirdness happens.. |
[Nov. 2nd, 2009|05:10 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  confused | ] |
The strangest thing happened to me, today. I was on the bus, minding my own business and gaping openly at this hot guy I seem to be running into quite often, these days. I felt something buzz on my lap, and thinking it was my cellphone telling me something, I reached into my pocket.
Nothing. No messages. No voicemails. No missed calls.
Back to gaping.
And then I feel something buzz, again. Intrigued, and realizing that this pleasing sensation was actually coming from my purse, I reach into the pocket that I sometimes stash my phone, only to find this weird alien cellphone sitting there.
Now, I drunkenly lost my phone at a friend's house over the weekend, so I think: no problem. I'll just call Alisha and see if anyone is missing their phone.
Turns out, Nope.
So.. now I'm really confused. Time goes by.. and I feel this alien phone buzzing again. Oh! A call! So I answer it.
An odd little conversation occurs, in which a man sounds rather confused as to why a woman is talking to him. I can only imagine this is because well.. this isn't my phone. After about five minutes of explaining, I finally let this man know that no, I am not 'Marty', and no.. I have no idea where this telephone has come from.
He kindly informs me that he'll let Marty know who has his phone. At this point, I play the waiting game, again.
And another call comes in. I answer, only to find that I am now speaking to the actual owner of this phone. This is a good sign. I politely ask him if he was at Alisha's party over the weekend. Nope.
"I live in Cloverdale..." he explains.
That's funny. I haven't been anywhere near that area in some time.
"Well, were you at the Celtic Times on Saturday?" I ask eagerly.
"No, I was at a football game..."
Huh. Now it is starting to get weird. How the fuck did I get this phone!?
The conversation goes on.. each of us absolutely bemused as to how I ended up with his phone in the first place. Finally, I agree to meet him at a gas station across the street from campus on my lunch break so that I can return his ill-begotten cellphone.
I bring a small army of friends with me. I'm not a dumb girl. I know that sometimes people do strange things in the hopes of luring pretty young women into their grasp, so I had backup. When the man rolls up in his truck, I'm hoping to recognize him. To get some sort of inkling as to -how- I ended up with his telephone in my purse.
I've never seen this person before in my -life-.
It was a rather anticlimactic exchange, to be honest. I handed him the phone, he asked me if I knew a man named 'Darrel', which I do, but it wasn't the Darrel he was asking about.. and then he drove off.
Didn't even say thank-you.
At the end of all of this.. I keep thinking to myself, that I am probably going to go to my grave..never knowing how the hell I got ahold of that damned phone. |
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| Google Wave invites.. |
[Oct. 17th, 2009|03:10 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | bored | ] |
Who's a bitch gotta blow to get one? |
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| A case for Canada, |
[Oct. 17th, 2009|07:34 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  bitchy | ] |
So, I set about a far overdue chore, yesterday. I finally got all my paperwork together, crammed it in an envelope, and mailed it out to some strange town in Nova Scotia. It was my hope, in my overwhelming ignorance, that 2 months should be enough time for the government to process my request and send me that card that allows me to leave and enter the country, again.
You know. The one that expires at a maddening rate of 5 years.
I have plans for Christmas. The Heterosexual Life-Mate and I thought it might be keen to jump on a giant boat so we could wine, dine, and dance like we were more than upper-middle-class citizens.
Of course, I need to have my card before I can even -consider- leaving the country.. or I am gonna have a hell of a time getting back in. Those of you in MN should recall the annoyance I had this summer in having to cancel my trip because of this reason.
So after mailing out my papers, I check the website. You know. Just out of curiosity: 136 days.
To Process. My Fucking Application.
FOUR MONTHS?! Are you fucking kidding me!?
The rage I feel at this moment is near overwhelming. Now.. I sit here, worried that perhaps I may have trouble getting home over the -summer-. You know.. in case I had a hair out of place on the application (This is me recalling the trouble I had last time.. Grrrr..) and they send it back, causing the 4 months to have to start all over again.
I can't leave the country. I can't even go over the border in a car easily to buy groceries in Seattle. It wouldn't be so much a problem, save for the fact that this lack of freedom I have is really unsetling to me.
I'm actually considering applying to become a citizen as well.. just to see which is processed faster. At least if I am a citizen, all I have to worry about replacing every 5 years is my goddamned passport.
*snarl*
I've never felt such.. inconvenience simply because I chose to -live- somewhere. |
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| Let's see, here.. |
[Oct. 14th, 2009|06:48 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  cheerful | ] |
So my friend, Doctor Hottness, reminded me yesterday that while I give him shit for never blogging.. I actually hardly ever do it myself, anymore.
Out of fear of being a hypocrite, here I am.
So it's occurred to me that I worry too much. I've observed the massive workload that is being handed off to me, and then I make a list of what I need to have done over the weekend. It's a big list. Something huge and blood-pressure raising.
Every weekend, I sit on my ass eating cheetos, watching Season 5 episodes of House, and drinking obscene amounts of tea. Every hour or so, I do some homework, then go back to my usual tactic of fucking around and doing nothing. By the time the weekend closes, I've gotten about half my list of homework done, and I spend Monday morning chewing down my fingernails.
Then I look at my schedule. Is everything that needs to be turned in done? Yes. Do I have time over the week to finish other things? Yes. Is my head on fire, and am I going to die? No.
Then what the fuck am I so worried about?
I think I could use a chill pill.
Pipkin's Early Morning Haiku of the DayThe morning has come,
Walk in the rain to the bus,
Thinking of bad soup. |
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| Adventures in Pipkinland. |
[Sep. 26th, 2009|07:07 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  accomplished | ] |
Good morning, my darlings.
After randomly deciding to fall asleep last night at 9am, I awake, bright and early, at 6am on a Saturday morning. I find this rather strange, but I consider the opportunity to get an early start on my day by.. fucking around on my journal, and then hopefully doing some homework.
This past month has been a strange one. I'm not entirely sure if it leaves me in a good mood or not, because to be honest, I've been too busy to get bored, or depressed, or happy, or have any other weird feelings like that. If anything, I've only gotten surprised by the sudden realization that on Saturday and Sunday, my time is completely my own and I have absolutely no obligations save for ones I give myself.
It's been a rather.. comforting feeling to say the least.
Knowing that while in school, and during mind-numbing hours of homeworking, I will not have the opportunity to spout profanities and act in a completely inhumane manner like I usually do, I've been filling up a lot of my 'free time' with things like livejournal and 4chan. Thankfully, this has given me a healthy balance in my life.. amusing the half of my brain which is normally fed by pictures of fat chicks getting entire watermelons jammed up their uncomfortable areas, or silly ones of cats with amusing slogans attached to them. Internet humor has come to sustain me when no other option is possible. So far, I'm happy.
A lot of my summer wines are coming to bare fruit (pun intended) now. Two of them have already been bottled, with another 3 batches due to be cleared off and finished over the weekend. (This includes my Bing Cherry port which.. unfortunately stopped fermenting a little too early. :( )
I'm going to have to find -room- for all of this stuff! Maybe some of you guys could come and take a couple of bottles off of my hands?
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:Eye-stabbing day dreams,
My frustration rages deep,
Fucking Economics. |
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| Dear Internets... |
[Sep. 16th, 2009|08:52 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Hey. I miss you guys... |
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| Goddamn, I love the internet. |
[Aug. 25th, 2009|10:31 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | accomplished | ] |
I figured since I haven't posted in a while, that it might be that time again. Yaknow.. to post.
I was talking tonight, to this girl whom I haven't spoken to since she showed up on my doorstep at 14 years of age asking me for money to buy tampons. In my ignorance, I likely lent her drug money, but that just goes to show how very kind I can be to my friends.
Regardless, after she left me with a bad taste in my mouth, and a heaping chunk of self esteem ripped from my gut, I never really thought much of her until she found me on Facebook. Now, as we discuss where life has taken the both of us, I'm left with another strange taste in my mouth.
This flavor? Kind of like the taste you get when you look up to see God and realize that the universe is awesome, right after you're done wiping his jizz off of your lips.
I'll scoot on past the concept that it's completely cool to be able to find and talk to people I haven't in 10 years. We know how satisfying that can be. No, no folks.. I'm gonna sit right down and settle with the idea that it's goddamned cool to see where everyone I know from highschool has FAILED.
Yes. I am that petty.
There's the odd one or two who's just as spectacular as I remember them, of course. But I can't help but find some kind of sick satisfaction when I see the 'popular' girl in school has gained 100 lbs, and has an ugly boyfriend. Or that someone else I used to know and respect has the literary skills of a drunken chimpanzee.
And how many people do I know from highschool who've degraded into that creepy entity otherwise known as "Mommy" or "Daddy"?! You know, the weird obsessive parent that only posts about their children? It's downright disturbing when I see people that I used to bullshit in Art class with talking about how they're waiting to get their kids back from an estranged other-parent who has a restraining order out against them.
Fucked up shit.
I guess my point here, is that seeing how far my 'peers' have come.. only makes my minimal accomplishments all the more gratifying.
Yay! Go me!
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:A saddened Newfag,
Laptop without numberpad,
I cannot Triforce. |
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| Woohoo!! |
[Jul. 7th, 2009|10:19 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | anxious | ] |
HEY MINNESOTA!!!! I'M COMING HOME!!!!!
That's right! August 21st to September 3rd, I'll be in town. That means I want to hang out with people. Do you want to hang out with me? Please tell me you do!
Comment here if you wish to make plans with me, so I don't kill myself with bordom while I am there. Remember, I may not be in town again for 3 years or more... :o |
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| Go, Pipkin! |
[Jun. 29th, 2009|07:39 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | blah | ] |
It's that magical day. You know, the one that feels all 'personal' to someone, and they desperately hope it will be better than all of the others.
I find I've become jaded, over the years.
I was much more excited on Saturday. That.. was the big day of the Masquerade. I spent 50 dollars on my hair, and an hour and a half getting dressed.. but the results were always pleasing. I get such a thrill when I walk into a room, and people look at me and say "Wow". It's like I managed to bump my App rating a dot or two just because I put in a little extra effort.
I danced, a little. My Heterosexual Life-Mate danced much more than me (Fucking harlots). I mostly spent the night desperately trying to catch up with people I haven't seen for a year. It made me really sad to realize just how much I've lost touch with my social group because of my work schedule.
The mantra of the season seems to be: "Oh, well, I won't have that problem, come September."
Oddly enough? It's a really soothing thought.
Also, Happy Birthday, ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) namelessfodder!!! |
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| Huh? |
[May. 30th, 2009|08:17 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  calm | ] |
I assure you all, I am not dead.
Men confuse the hell out of me. I've found over time, that even though I am not the most.. attractive person in the world (Okay, I'm pretty damn hot when I try..), I have various men infatuated with me without me doing much of anything to provoke them.
Since I've been working at a pub, it's gotten worse. There is a.. number of regular customers whom I've had my co-workers describe as 'in love' with me. Why? I haven't the faintest. I don't wear makeup half the time. I don't do my hair. Hell, I hardly even dress to please the eye.. yet somehow, because I can put back a pint or two in a sitting, and have a vocabulary that would make a sailor blush.. I have this small pack of grown men drooling at the sight of me.
Now, it's spread to co-workers. (Or at least.. 15 year old dishwashers. The thought makes me cringe and giggle at the same time)
It makes me wonder what I could do to people if I actually -wanted- that sort of attention.
In other news, I'll be 28 in a month. That fuckin' scares the hell out of me. I keep wondering how I got so old.. and then keep reminding myself that I'm not really old, yet. Then I keep wondering how long I'm gonna keep looking young.. and start counting down the days until my ass sags, my face wrinkles, and I gain 300 lbs. I've already started getting grey hair. D:
Regardless.. I'm celebrating this year by getting my nipples pierced. Yep. Both of them. It's gonna be grand.
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:Nazis on tv,
Talking about Jew Problems,
Saturday Morning. |
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| Me, and my split personalities. |
[Apr. 23rd, 2009|07:40 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  awake | ] |
I've stopped drinking coffee. I realized that the dependency I had on caffeine as a drug was a drag. Withdrawal kept me from waking up easily in the morning, and without it, I was an unruly, angry bitch. This is the most successful I've been at the attempt, than in the past. I find myself.. not really craving the tasty warm drink, but rather the warmness I get from it. I am cold and sad in my chair after waking up at 6am (naturally. O_O) and I don't want to make tea because I know I'll just be putting drugs in me.
Last night I went to an APICS meeting with my Heterosexual Life Mate. I was rightfully angry at the idea that his one evening home after not seeing him for so long was gobbled up by responsibilities beyond my hungering vagina, so I tagged along. Deciding to venture out into the business world displayed to me what I would be getting into come the future: Overwhelming boredom.
I suppose I'll be less bored once I understand half of what these Operations Management nerds are talking about, but regardless I came to a startling conclusion about my new chosen path in life:
I'm not appropriate. My active mental state is Not Safe For Work. The filters I must apply to my mind and mouth are astonishing to the point where I don't even really consider myself to be in the room half the time, but instead, locked up in a tiny part of my brain as I spew out words like some kind of politically correct robot.
I wonder if there will come a time where I filter myself so much that I lose touch with my sense of humor. I'm hoping not. But then again, the internet will always be my outlet, so long as I am cautious enough to know how to hide my fiery text.
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:I tenderly touch,
What I can't rightly afford,
Strippers don't like that. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 6th, 2009|07:57 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  bouncy | ] |
HAPPY APRIL 6TH DAY YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!! :D :D
To all of you who don't know what this is.. carry on. |
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| I spoke too soon... |
[Mar. 23rd, 2009|12:59 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  crappy | ] |
After almost two years of employment, I'm having my first sick day. This is downright strange.
Knives + Fevers = bad combination. |
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| Dude, what the hell?! (perhaps TMI. This is your only warning.) |
[Mar. 22nd, 2009|11:25 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | sore | ] |
I haven't really gotten.. sick, for some time. People I know run around with various viruses.. coughing, sneezing, puking, and doing all sorts of things which in turn gets everyone else around them sick, but thus far I've been.. immune. (Here's where I knock on wood)
Beginning to believe I am impervious to virii, I go about my day merrily as people sniffle and groan.. knowing that when I get a sore throat, chances are it'll be gone by the next day and I'll be drinking in celebration of my victory.
But then something like -this- happens. My body decides that it shall scoff in the face of -normal- diseases.. easily bypassing the common cold, flu, and other things floating in the air around me.. in favor of things far more.. vile.
Bacteria is the bane of my exsistence. When I get sick, I get SICK. I cough up things I'd rather not describe. Things itch that -shouldn't-, and my wallet suffers because I inevitably have to medicate because some things, I just can't handle on my own.
I'd never pissed blood before this, and I am willing to eagerly describe the situation as.. downright unpleasant.
My insides are swollen. It hurts to move. My back is sore. Foul smelling things are coming out of me.. and all these things, while utterly unpleasant (let alone uncomfortable) lead me to believe that my kidneys have decided to wage war upon my body. Which is something downright TERRIFYING.
Pain killers are my friends until tomorrow morning, at which time a nice little Japanese man will give me magic pills that I must choke down to wage biological warfare upon the organisms invading my system. Normally I do not look forward to the offer of antibiotics.. but in this case, I believe any sort of relief is welcome.
Even if I have to choke down yogurt for a month.
Surprisingly, I still haven't missed a day of work. Holy fuck am I a trooper.
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:My thoughts are fleeting,
They return to old places,
That once brought comfort. |
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| Only in dreams. |
[Feb. 23rd, 2009|07:53 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
I had a dream last night that I wasn't accepted into BCIT. It didn't really bother me in the land of dreams, but when I woke up, I realized how crushing something like that would be to me.
I've put all my energy and motivation into preparing to go to college, that I haven't yet considered what I might do if I don't get in for the fall semester. I'm set on quitting my job in August. I've been working massive amounts of overtime just to fund my unemployment for 2 years starting in September. My mental health and happiness has begun to focus on the relief of actually having a 9-5, Mon-Fri schedule.
I'd be crushed if I don't get in. Absolutely.
I guess this means I should start preparing for the worst-case scenario.. you know, just in case. Until I get that letter of acceptance into hand, anyway. (Not that I'm honestly all that worried.. but it has been a little unsettling that I haven't gotten it, yet.)
In other news, it's been a month, at least, since I've shaved my arms. It's a strange sensation to have hair on a part of my body. I don't think I like it.
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:Time is running short,
I must make Haiku quickly,
My bus will not wait. |
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| Wine, wine, wine! |
[Feb. 18th, 2009|09:47 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  drunk | ] |
You never really know how much you drink until you look back at all the damage it's done to your liquor reserves.
I sorted out my 'cellar', today. After having over 60 bottles of wine in my house (Vieux Chateau du Roi and Vidal Icewine) I managed, finally, to hide 10 bottles of each away to age safely. This left myself and my Heterosexual Life-Mate 3 bottles of each to consume. Careful calculation suggests that I have 13 bottles of each left.. from an original 30.
Where did they all go?!
Now, before I consider myself a raging alcoholic (Really, there's no room to be an alcoholic when I'm already a raging coke head) I do have to realize that I am incapable of being entirely selfish, and I HAVE given a lot of this shit away. (My friends, you are lucky people) But..I know for damn sure I didn't give away 17 bottles of each. My liver suggests I hardly gave away more than 10 of each kind.
So if we say I've consumed over 7 bottles of (My own, not counting other wines L has been pushing on me), that's still quite a bit of liquor consumed over the past month and a half. A bottle of wine can last me 2 to 3 days if I only stick to 2 glasses a day.
Me, a Lush.
Whoa.
Oh yeah.. did I mention I have 5 more kits (at 30 bottles each) on the go? My poor, poor liver..
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:Can't shake this feeling,
Skin is crawling at night time,
Scared of my shadow. |
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| Stolen from Marzi. |
[Feb. 12th, 2009|02:20 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  amused | ] |
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me. It can be anything you want -- good or bad -- BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE. When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you. |
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| Unrestful. |
[Jan. 9th, 2009|02:30 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  frustrated | ] |
So I bottled my wine, last night. -My- wine. Not something I was making for anyone but myself. It was nice. I made my own little labels and everything, which are sickeningly sentimental, but likely just funny to anyone who doesn't understand them.
I also got way too drunk.
My long awaited 3 day weekend is over, and I feel not a bit as rested as I should. Possibly because I didn't take any time to sit back and relax. Whoops. Oh well, back into the work week head-first, for me. Maybe I'll get lucky and catch the aids so I can finally have a day for myself. Of course, that would require more unprotected sex with hookers on my part. Oh darn.
I'm glad the holidays are over. I've been getting tired of everyone around me whining about how terrible everything is. For a season that's supposed to be filled with loving thy family/neighbor/brother/sister/friend, people sure do get bugs up their asses. It's like everyone is so resentful of all the things they feel like they're forced into doing, that they forget to be happy when they're actually -supposed- to be. We'll see what the new year brings. If it's anything like last, mine will be spectacular; save that everyone around me will be writhing in agony.
Maybe I should consider myself blessed.. but I just keep thinking about how I would trade my good luck in life to everyone around me just to see someone smile, again. It's depressing being the only person you know who's not depressed. Whoops. Oxymoron.
I've been looking for something to distract myself with, lately. Haven't really found anything. Watching Deadwood, again, as there's so much it appears that I missed. It's like reading a good book over again. Maybe I'll set aside some more time to get more involved with it, until I find a good video game to play. Mm. That would be nice.
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:An occupied mind,
Distracted so easily,
Doesn't feel as much. |
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| Kick me while I'm down. |
[Dec. 23rd, 2008|09:14 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | aggravated | ] |
I find it rather annoying that the skills I will be learning in 8 short months are not accessible to me, now. I find it even more annoying when I'm faced with work-place issues that require me to have said training.
I was struck dumb last night at work by a tiny Filipino lady. (I think I'm spelling it right in the right context..) I don't know what it is with some people, and their need to absolutely spaz over situations, but it leaves me lacking in knowledge on how to react when someone is acting, to me, like I'm their child who hasn't cleaned their bedroom.
The Appy station wasn't wiped down. It wasn't perfectly stocked. I understand this, but communicating it to me in manners which are polite, softly spoken, and not personally insulting generally allow someone to get a more clear message through.
Instead, I have a woman who is, for all intensive purposes, a dish washer.. berating me for not working 'hard enough' when I busted my ass all day to compensate for an untrained employee. Yapping like a dog in a barrage of squealing insults that sound like they'd been mulled over for hours. Completely out of the blue.
About the time she called me (paraphrased) a lazy ass, was the time I turned around and walked away from her. I knew my stunned reaction would wear off eventually, and I'd get upset. I don't need to get upset like that. It's not professional.
I called the man-thing afterwards, and he told me what I did was wrong, as well... but given the training and choices in front of me, it was the best reaction I could have had.
Regardless, I know I'll hear about it, tonight. It makes my stomach turn.
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:It has been too long,
Haiku has been forgotten.
Rusty, I have grown. |
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| This one's for all you boys... |
[Dec. 10th, 2008|01:46 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  geeky | ] |
Do you cook? If so, what's your favorite, most interesting kitchen gadget that you use? Is it something you can impress the ladies with? If you don't have such a gadget.. is there something you're dying to have because it's nifty or cool?
Please, let me know. I need your help! I have to write an article, you see.. and I desperately need ideas! |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 6th, 2008|08:33 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | amused | ] |
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| Remember, remember.. |
[Nov. 1st, 2008|03:39 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | guilty | ] |
It's November already.
Gosh, how this year has flown past. I turn around and look back, and all I can really see is last January, thinking to myself the very same thing about last year.
What is it about growing up that makes time slip through our fingers so fast? Will I look back one day, and consider my mid-twenties as a time where things moved so slowly?
We spend our childhoods waiting. Impatient little creatures who wish so badly that we could hurry up and reach adulthood so the shackles of our youth could be shed, and we can finally enter the big wide world where people can't tell us what to do, anymore.
Once we realize how cold it is, unsheltered from our youth.. many of us remember and consider such time of waiting to have been wasted. Tainted by our new experiences; we wish we could have savored our youth a little better, or perhaps made something of it, if we'd savored too much.
If we didn't age. If we didn't expire. Would we be inspired to rush ourselves head-on into life; soaking up all the experiences and education that we can? Or.. would we consider time to be something of an afterthought, or something that must be endured as we wait for the next level to load in our video games?
I spend nearly every waking moment mindful of the ticking of a clock. Checking where I am on the time line, and scheduling every moment of every hour of every day. Time consumes my thoughts and makes me nervous. I'm so terrified of wasting what's left of my youth. It's like I'm planning to die before I really do, and I'm scared I'll never get to finish what I need to before my time is up.
Will I look back one day; pleased with how I pushed myself, in my fear? Or will I continue to be so scared of looking back, that I just won't bother anymore?
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:Things that have been said,
Weakened in my nervous mind,
My fear of nothing. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 22nd, 2008|09:58 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | cheerful | ] |
You are about 20 years old | The teen repellent will no longer foil you, but you can still hear some pretty high tones. The highest pitched ultrasonic mosquito ringtone that I can hear is 16.7kHz | | Find out which ultrasonic ringtones you can hear! |
This was a really cool meme. I don't find many of those, anymore.
So. I took my friend Doctor Hottness' advice last night, and got a little drunk. A, at work (The bartender) did my cause great service by practically forcing drinks on me, to the point where I was thoroughly giggly and dizzy on my way home. Luck has it I didn't need to walk home alone, but had my lovely Martial Artist co-worker E attend the bus with me, as he was going the very same way as I! (He was also my drinking partner in crime.) Thusly, I wasn't raped and murdered, and I had my own personal body guard. We may or may not have raped and murdered a few people of our own, however.
I was woken up at 9:30 am by my telephone ringing. I was horrified when I considered that it may be my boss attempting to call me in (as M has been sick), but it was one of those phone calls where you pick up, and no one answers. I kinda considered that rude, being that I am pretty hungover. No one has attempted to call me in yet, though. Lets keep our fingers crossed.
I canceled my WoW account, today. They had a little box where they wanted me to type up my reasoning for quitting. It really made me sad to realize that I started the game twice over, and quit for the very same reason;
I just don't want to play catch-up, anymore.
I work a lot more than a lot of my 'guildies'. They have jobs but no lives, or something.. and so always have the time to power level when I don't. When school started, I hadn't the heart to touch my WoW account. I don't think I really played at all. When I did log on.. it was a week into school, and I realized if I was about to play, I would need to spend the 3 hours I had before going to work.. grinding my virtual nose to the XP stone. It wouldn't be fun. I'd have to find people to level with, or go to an instance, ect...
I realized.. I was about to make myself go to work. -IN A GAME-.
So.. I didn't bother.
I'll sit on my hands in anticipation of Diablo 3 in the meantime. I'll get what I need from WoW, but won't have to depend on other people for my game enjoyment.
Please god, let it be soon. I've watched the game-play examples, and I can hardly keep my loins from quivering in pleasure (not that I really want to.. sitting on my hands, and all..)
Of course.. I watched game-play examples of Starcraft 2 no less than 2 years ago. If this trend keeps up, Diablo 3 won't be out in time for the impending alien invasion of 2012. Hopefully I can stave off anal probing long enough to smite me some demons with a wall of zombies.
Halloween is coming! What's -YOUR- costume?! |
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| Hum. |
[Sep. 24th, 2008|05:55 pm] |
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| | calm | ] |
Today was a very nice, lazy day. I spent more time lounging upon my couch in a half-coma state with my beloved Pullo-bear than was needed, perhaps.. but my body felt that it was something that I should do. Thusly, I partook.
With the time that has been consumed by things of great importance.. so too, has my ability to compose meaningful text.. declined. I cannot fathom the proper slope difference between my creativity and my business, but I'm sure the graph would display it to be of a negative sort in a steep decline.
Already, Algebra has tainted my thoughts.
I feel.. envious of those people whom, when deprived of their creative outlets.. feel taxed and over-burdened. I wish that my Muse was an unending creature who plagued my every waking thought.. so that perhaps I could create something meaningful, and have the inspiration -whenever- I find a few moments to myself with which I can express.
I very much miss creating art. I'm terrified that I'll end up being one of those people who are wildly artistic, but content to never express it. Someone kill me, if I get to that point.
My mother called me on Saturday. I was having a much-needed nap.. which is usually when she attempts to catch up on lost time with her only Daughter.
My cousin Jessica (whom I was very close to as a child, but somehow grew apart from) had just gotten married, and my mother was at the wedding reception. When she handed the phone off to my Grandfather.. I realized I had nothing to say, to him.
He, likewise, had nothing to say back to me.. other than hello, and how much he missed me. His voice was lethargic. He sounded confused, and lacking in enthusiasm which brought me to believe that he'd rather be sitting at home having a nap, just like I was.
I've watched five of my Grandparents die, already. This is the last one left, and a part of me already considers him to be dead, in a way. Whatever relationship I had with him is stored in fond memories of my childhood. There is, simply, no ability to keep a relationship going with him.. for any attempts that I have made are reacted to as though he simply doesn't have the mind to comprehend the meaning of my affection.
I do not look down on him, for it. I know his age has taxed his mind, and I will never love my Grandfather less. I think he just deserves his quiet relaxation before he slips away to be with his wife, again.
Regardless, it makes me sad. It's awkward talking to a person when I know they're just waiting to die.. and clinging to the last remains of their life with little to no enthusiasm.
Summer's gone. The leaves have changed, and the sky has begun to weep nearly every day, now. I find the yearly change from summer garb to bulky, winter clothing to be almost elating. I miss the rosy glow of my fireplace, and the comforting snuggle pile of blankets and cats as I lie in front of it.
This winter.. I'm prepared. I have things to occupy my mind and time, and the comforting knowledge that I managed to steam-roll my way through summer without finding myself in the usual state of near manic-depressive.
It's nice to be healthy again. Maybe I've finally figured out what I need to stay that way.
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:The sun doesn't shine,
But that's okay with me, now,
Rain feels good on skin. |
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| Pardon me.. |
[Sep. 21st, 2008|07:55 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | lethargic | ] |
Excuse me, body.
When I need to rest before waking up very early in the morning, please don't take two hours to fall asleep. It's also not very nice to have consistent nightmares that wake me up every 2 hours, thusly keeping me from returning to a blissful, restful state.
Excuse me, cats.
When I had a shitty night of sleep last night, and I come home late from work, knowing I have to be awake in 6 1/2 hours to return to work, please don't spend an HOUR scratching around in the cat box, the bath tub, the cat dish, the stairs, and anything else you can find to make noise. It's not condusive to sleep.
I have a midterm to study for. I'd like to be able to pass, please.
kthxbai. |
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| Thunder in the morning. |
[Aug. 17th, 2008|07:46 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | accomplished | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | thunder | ] |
So. Somewhere along the line, I became a responsible adult. I don't really know where, or when, but I believe it's happened in some capacity. It's not that I'm buying a car, or pooping out crotch-droppings.. so much as the fact that I'm learning to juggle things like a job, schooling, dance lessons and general -life- as opposed to going out drinking all night, or smoking crack.
Today is an interesting turning point: My chef is on vacation. The kitchen is, to be blunt, mine. I have keys to open. Permission to create special menus. Keys to the office, fridges, and anything else I might need to get into. My pay rate is going up (though I'm not being given a title or being put on salary..) and it's starting to give me a weird little creepy feeling, knowing that some people actually notice that I'm capable of doing more than general grunt-work.
To be honest, it took long enough.
I'm weary of the fact that my weekends won't be open, or that I won't be getting any more day shifts than normal, so I can associate with my friends.. but it's something I'm just going to have to get used to, for now. Come September, I'll barely have time to wipe my ass, let alone go to birthday parties.. but I have confidence that my friends will be loving, and understand. I'm making life changes so that I -can- spend time with them, and have the time and ability to not feel -guilty- about it.
It's getting loud, outside, and I'd better get to work.
Pipkin's Haiku of the Day:Eerily growling,
A hungry beast from the sky,
We tremble in fear. |
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| very good times with very bad things... |
[Jul. 7th, 2008|11:36 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  ecstatic | ] |
... Actually, I've done nothing particularly bad as of the late.. unless you count the hooker stuffed into the storage space on my roof, but I assure you, she's being fed and kept reasonably comfortable.
I've been on vacation. I've had strange people from a strange land staying in my home, and somehow, I haven't managed to murder them, yet. I guess what they say about the internet isn't completely true. Or maybe just what they say about me?
In any case, I started out my lovely vacation this week, by going to work. I got the call bright and early at 8:30am as I was playing WoW. "Pipkin..." she said; "What are you doing, today?"
I knew right then and there, things.. are going downhill. It's okay, though, I needed the money. Right? Right.
Well, I might have had more to write about, but at the moment my mind is rather blank, so I am gonna give this computer back to the person it belongs to, and go about making breakfast.
You'll all hear from me, later. |
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| Ugh. |
[Jun. 29th, 2008|08:01 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | awake | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | fucking birds... | ] |
Nothing like being woken up after 6 hours by the serenading of a murder of crows out the window.
Two hours later? They're still going.
I wish I had a sling-shot, right about now.
Also.. Happy Birthday, namelessfodder!!!!!! (this means it's my birthday, too.) |
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crazy
lulz!