Tired and cranky and OMG KITTY!

I really wish that kitty joke was a euphemism but, alas, it is not. I almost hit a cat on my way home last night and a possum Friday night and was almost attacked by deer Wednesday night and I’m really beginning to think Texas wildlife is trying to kill me and I kind of think it’s because I don’t spend nearly enough time with them so I am seriously thinking of hiking sometime today but it depends on whether I can get my lazy ass out of bed or not at some point in the near future if things all go according to plan, which they likely won’t.

How’s that for an introductory sentence, eh? I’m also seriously considering sending off my phone, but I feel so bad placing it in the iBox. It’s been so good to me and I already feel so awful for having shattered its screen even though it obviously loves me and accepts all my faults since I’ve been able to write my blog posts and tweet and such from it. It’s like the perfect girlfriend I have yet to find, softly whispering to me, “It’s okay, honey, I love you even though you’re a total basket case and have the emotional IQ of a 6-year-old and the social skills of a Pontiac and the energy level of a three-toed sloth”. I wish my iPhone were a real girl.

Dammit! Where’s that magical fairy goddess lady and her cricket when I need them?

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Holy shit I MUST meat these people!

So I had this insane craving for a great burger on Wednesday. The only place I know that’s still open and has great burgers and isn’t some corporate shittrap closed before I could get there and I got stuck eating at McDeath’s. The good part of this story is that, through my amazing powers of Google Fu I discovered AN ENTIRE BLOG DEDICATED TO BURGERS IN SAN ANTONIO! I MUST meet this cult of meat worshippers and partake in their activities of meat worship! It is now my newest life’s goal!

My prior life’s goal was to successfully become vegan. Yes, I realize that does not make sense, but what about me actually does make sense?

And, whoa, I finally met this guy I’ve been talking to for almost two years, yet hadn’t actually met in person. It totally sucks how life gets in the way of things sometimes, but it finally happened. The really odd part is it turns out he lives on the street behind me.

It was kind of like that time I met a chick in Savannah, Ga after living there for only a few months who was from Texas. The entire conversation went something like this:

Me:  So you don’t sound like you’re from around here.

Her:  I’m not, I’m staying at the hotel next door for the time being.

Me:  So where are you from?

Her:  Texas.

Me:  Heh, how tired are you of people asking about your pet horse and why you’re not wearing your hat and spurs?

Her:  OMG!  I can’t stand you people with that!  Texas isn’t like that at all!

Me:  I know, I grew up in San Antonio.

Her:  No way, so did I!  I’m from the North West side.

Me:  Really?  So am I!  I lived in [insert name of neighborhood here]

Her:  Really?!?  I lived on [insert street name in aforementioned neighborhood here]

Me:  No shit!  I lived on [insert name of street behind aforementioned street in aforementioned neighborhood here]

Her:  I was [imaginary house number]

Me:  Holy crap, you lived behind me!  What’s your name?

Her: I’m [insert name of childhood friend’s sister]

Me:  Holy crap, I was friends with your brother!

Then I met a whole slew of people over the next couple of years who all lived around me and/or went to school with me.  I always thought the idea behind moving far away from where you grew up was to escape the people you knew before.  And now that I’m back in SATown, I’ve run in to bunches of people I was in extremely close proximity to in Savannah, one lady even shopped in the grocery store where I worked and we HAD AN ENTIRE CONVERSATION YEARS AGO!  How creepy is that?

So I guess it really is a small world after all!

Why can’t I get the cool jobs? It’s all Target’s fault!

All I want is an awesome job that gives me awesome things to write about for you awesome people who read my blog.  But can I?  No.  Why?  Ask Target.

See, there’s this guy who spent 24 hours in Wal-Mart and then wrote, not one, but two entries to Zug about his stay at The Mart of Wal, and can I do anything like that for you guys to enjoy?  NO!  Why?  Because Target isn’t cool enough to be open 24 hours, and when I tried to apply, they told me they “didn’t have any positions open at the current time”.  Well, you know what, Target?  Your mom had plenty of positions open for me last night and I didn’t hear her complaining.  Yeah, that’s right, I said it.  YOUR MOM’S A WHORE, Target, and I’m gonna prove it to the world!  That’s the real reason you aren’t open 24 hours, isn’t it?  Because you gotta be your mom’s pimp.

No wonder you charge so much for your store brand products.

That’s it, I’m boycotting Target, at least until they start actually offering good-looking prostitutes in their clearance aisle.  Who’s with me?

What had Happened Was

HAPPY 420 ALL YOU POT HEADS OF THE WORLD!

On Sunday, it was rather “blah”.  That is to say, it wasn’t really busy (at all…read: 5 customers every 30 minutes) so I wasn’t really expecting much excitement.  That is until Pube Boy came in.  He’s this tall, lanky kid about as big around as a pencil.  One of those guys who wears those huge chick sunglasses and has really long hair and, unfortunately for me, wears chicks pants.  Why do I say unfortunately for me?  Because his low-rise pants rose so low his pubes were sticking out the top.  Why he thought that looked good, I don’t know.

I thought I was never going to recover from the horrors that were his pubes when, shortly after, Middle Aged Princess pranced in.  She wandered around the store as customers are wont to do, all the while talking, rather loudly, into her cell phone.  Not out of the norm, really.  Until she got in line.  Then she started to get slightly more irritated at the person she was speaking with.  Turns out one of her friends was trying to set her up on a blind date.  The conversation on her end went something like this:

No, I don’t want you to set me up………I know I’m not going to like him……..Yes, I trust your judgement……..No, I’m not saying you have bad taste in men…..Look, he’s just not going to be good enough……UGH!  You’re not listening to me!…….Really, just…just stop, already…..NO ONE YOU FIND ME IS GOING TO BE GOOD ENOUGH!……BECAUSE!…..LOOK!…..Would you just shut up already…..He’s not going to love me enough, ever!…..Because he can’t love me like Edward Cullen…..Yes!…..No!….IF HE CAN’T LOVE ME LIKE EDWARD LOVED BELLA THEN I DON’T WANT HIM!

And then she left my store.  Also, I did end up laughing in her face because, I’m sorry, when you’re in your 40’s you shouldn’t be expecting a fairy tale creepy sparkly stalker to sweep you off your feet.

So, other than that, I’m not really in a good place.  I just came out of this horrid depression I dropped into and almost reached a state of sanity (people like me have a tendency to overshoot sanity and hit another extreme, but that’s a completely different post for a completely different day) when the world, again, came crashing down upon me.

Without talking about it too much since I might take things further, let’s just say I’m not getting the promotion I was all excited for and I’m about ready to quit.  The guy I seem to be the only one in the store standing up for decided to push all the right buttons the other day and I, being the hot-headed maniac I am, lashed out.  Of course, if someone told you your mama wasn’t worth your time, you’d lash out, too.  And that, in a nutshell, is what happened.  Thankfully I was able to hold back before things got physical and I wound up in jail.  Not a fun place to be.  Not that I’d know.  I’ve never been.  Really.  STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!

So we had a meeting with boss’s boss today that went completely not the way I wanted.  Of course, what ever goes the way I want it?  I can’t even pee in a straight line (thankfully the bathroom has carpet) so I don’t know why I was expecting any different.  But I did call out my boss on something that’s been bothering me, and that…well…let’s just say the entire conversation left a lot to be desired, and leave it at that.

But, alas, life goes on.  Maybe I just need to celebrate the holiday that is today.  I mean, really, who doesn’t like Pineapple Upside-Down cake?

OMG I CAUGHT THE STRAIGHT!

So I’m sitting at IHOP listening to songs from Disney movies.  I’m not sure if that’s cool or if it just makes me more of a loser.  I do know, however, that when I turn my music off and people think I can’t hear them because my ear buds are still in their conversations are rather interesting.  Or maybe they just seem more interesting because I’m effectually spying on them.

I think I’ve finally figured out why “Beauty and the Beast” is my favorite movie: I AM The Beast.  I’m all kinds of ugly and psycho on the outside, but am super sweet and wonderful and prince-like on the inside.

And why the fuck is “movie” spelled with an “ie” when it’s not plural?  IT MAKES NO SENSE!  If there’s no “s” at the end it should be spelled with a “y”.  Stupid English teachers enforcing rules for a stupid language!

And what is with the cute server waiting on the guys next to me and having to shake her butt in my face?  I mean, I’m not normally all slutty when it comes to girls, but DAMN!  I kind of wonder if she was watching me check her butt out in the reflection of the window (she watching the reflection, as I’m not nearly lame enough to watch some chicks butt reflected in a window, I only watch it live, especially when it’s right in my face like it just was.) because she would shake it more every time I looked over.  I kind of wish it would come back.

I’m so confused right now.  I’m listening to a Pandora station for musical soundtracks and pining for a chick.  What the FUCK is up with that?

C to the R to the A to the Z to the Y!

So what’s it like being crazy?  Sometimes it’s fun, in that runaway-train-headed-towards-a-non-existant-bridge-above-a-pit-of-lava-with-only-thorns-to-slow-you-on-the-300-story-fall.  You never know what’s going to happen, when it’s going to happen, or where it’s gonna stop.  It’s months of wanting nothing more than to be left alone followed by months of craving companionship.  It’s “don’t touch me I need you love me I hate you” filled arguments with lovers.  It’s telling your friend to get mortally fucked by a rhinoceros before asking them to dinner.  It’s breaking up with the woman you tell everyday you want to marry only to beg forgiveness, get fucked up the ass by one guy and pregnant by another, then telling her it’s her fault.

It’s waking up in tears and immediately laughing about it and thinking it’s so funny you call everyone in your phone despite it being 4am.

It’s wanting to kill yourself because the dolphins swimming in the waves are beautiful.

Crazy is as crazy as crazy can be.  It’s having to rhyme chime sign shine because there’s no other way to be.

Crazy is crying because the bacteria on your hands won’t go away and two-hour showers because the soap won’t suds evenly and biking forty miles because you have to hit that curb with the other foot, too, or else things won’t be even.

The Reason I Haven’t Posted

So, having a mental illness sucks. Majorly. It sucks like a raging tornado, like a tsunami sucks life from an island, like a queen sucks a nine-inch cock. Mental. Illness. Sucks.

And the suckiness of mental illness is why I haven’t been keeping up with my blog, despite having promised myself that I was going to invest in my writing and my blog and my everything else.  But such are the ways of manic episodes.  I thought I could keep up with this and my parents and my friends and my life and Twitter and everything else I need to keep up with.  And then I cycled.  Again.  And I realized I can’t be funny all the time, no matter how much I want to, because that’s not where my talent lies.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not completely “Emo” all the time.  There are two sides of me and, starting now, this is going to be where the two sides of me merge, where I can finally let out everything, be it the sappy “I feel like total shit today, blahblahblah’s” or the funny exploding people posts, or anything in between.  It’s my blog, so it’s gonna be about me and every part of me.  Besides, how can I grow as a writer if I don’t grow as a person?

Besides, blogging out all my angst on MySpace makes me feel like an immature adolescent douchebag, and I am far from adolescence.  Douchebaggery I’m in with both feet.  I’m good at it, and I’m not gonna stop doing one of the few things I actually have a talent for.