Bloopity Poopity

To balance out the negativity of allllll that, here are some quotes from last year that I never got around to posting.

Walking outside:
Me: I shouldn't have eaten that cookie, I really feel like I'm going to throw up.
Ex L12: [pointing] There's a ground over there.

Me: This gum is making me sick. [I take it out of my mouth and offer it to Ex L12] You want it?

Straight DrugMan: [confused] I'm not a retarded homosexual?

Hobo Stew

Tell me more about this "electronic mail":

A woman at the office yesterday was showing me how to get into our company email and then started explaining all of the different areas: inbox, drafts, etc. Then she stopped and asked me if I was familiar with e-mail. How do you respond to that? I went with "yeah."*

Interesting how medicine works:

At dinner last night, my mother was sort of explaining why some relatives might not come over for New Year's:

Mom: She's had this cough for two years-
Dad: Well, doesn't she have lung cancer?
Mom: [hesitates] I don't think... they don't have a diagnosis.
Dad: I thought she was a cancer patient.
Mom: She is.
Dad: I thought she was a lung cancer patient.
Mom: She is.

Huh. I never figured out what was going on with that.

Yes, I am a huge nerd:

After dinner family Scrabble game. I kept getting freaking vowels, 6 at a time, and on some turns had to deal with 3 or 4 point answers. So when we were done I started studying the Scrabble dictionary, determined not to lose again. Plus, it'll help me with crossword puzzles. It's pretty fun, actually, all of these words that I've never heard of and sound all funny and describe orgies. The best one I've seen so far was in response to a challenge: "jew. to bargain with--an offensive term."

It's funny 'cause it's true!

And look at these great words: Syzygy! Jimjams! Rectus! Holla! Hoboism! Sluicy! Pissoir**! Izzard (comma Eddie)!

It's like rain on your wedding day***:

I finally got our internet connection fixed today. My joy was so strong it could have knocked over a rogue elephant. (I don't know.) I went to my beautiful new computer, turned on my browser, aaaaand immediately got bored of the internet. Seriously. Before I even went to any pages. I looked at my "favorites" and thought, "wow, I really don't care about any of that." So I got up and went grocery shopping.

*I really only included this because I liked the heading.
**Pissoir means a public urinal. I love it. It's so elegant and French. It reminds me of the episode of Family Guy where Peter pulls an Eliza Doolittle, and at some fancy-schmancy party, he excuses himself to go the "crapier."
***OR IS IT?

Step Into My Office, Woman

(I wrote this at work yesterday.)

I had my first ever official meeting today*. It was fun. Except not so much fun as easy and boring. I was told to go get a pad at the beginning of it to write down "Action Items," which sounded so strange to me. I'm not used to office-speak, so I half-thought they were kidding. Haha, "Action Items"? Yeah, yeah, then I'll design an action hero doll and have him leap around the office getting ACTION WORK done. Good one.

Clearly they were serious.

At the end, BossMan asked how often we should meet on this project, and he and the other woman in the meeting turned to me and waited. Inside I freaked out, thinking, "Seriously? You're asking ME? I just started working here a couple days ago. You are both my superiors. What the hell is wrong with you people?" On the outside, I shrugged my shoulders and said, "I don't know. This is my first meeting ever."

BossMan found this hilarious: "First meeting ever, that's great. That explains why you didn't bring a pad."

Why didn't anyone tell me about the pad thing? I brought a sheet of paper... that already had notes on it...

(He just walked up behind me, getting a great view of this open window. From now on, no more blogging at work.)

*Yesterday.

**Update: I have been playing phone tag with a new doctor for a few days, and she called me back right after I went into this meeting. I missed it, because clearly I wasn't going to bring my cell phone into a meeting, right? That's rude. As I was explaining this to my dad, though, he scolded me for not taking my phone everywhere. I cried out defensively, "But it was my first meeting. Like ever!" He cracked up too, which for my dad means he let out a few quiet chuckles.

Excuses, Schmexuses

(My internet was broken. It still is. I'm on dial-up. I don't like that. I wrote this post in Microsoft Works a couple days ago. I didn't edit it. Enjoy!)

I got new medication a week ago. Two days later, I couldn’t find it. I looked everywhere. Fine, almost everywhere. It was starting to piss me off, because I had just gotten it, and I didn’t want to pay $60 again to replace it. For two days I searched through the piles of crap that fill my room and the two other rooms it could have been in. I even went to my mom’s car in case I had for some crazy reason brought it there. The one place I didn’t look? The bag in which it came. Which was sitting on my bed. In clear sight. I distinctly remembered taking it out of that bag, so clearly I shouldn’t waste my time looking there. Because of course I didn’t put it back there so that I wouldn’t lose it. Yeah…

Moving on to other people’s faults… Ok, so, The Real World: Denver? Oh, wow. Wow. I haven’t seen any of this season, but during a South Park commercial I switched over and saw the most oblivious, selfish, shallow girl ever. And I’ve watched quite a few seasons of The Real World, so that’s saying a lot. One other girl in the house got mono, and she was being such a whiny crybaby about it that I didn’t really give a shit. After she went to lie down, though, the really really annoying one started moaning about how hard this is on HER.: “I really cannot deal with this. I just want to get my nails done.” WHAT? ARGH. So she walks outside, all worried because this is the first time she’s been out of the house” and here I thought I was going to shoot my TV, but at least she finished with “by herself.” But still. So of course she gets lost in “the ghetto” while wearing teeny short shorts, a teeny tank top and kitten heels, then bitches about “hobos” checking her out. When she gets back to their sweet pad and retells this story, the token black guy gets pissed about her use of the word “ghetto,” aso the whiny bitch-ho calls up her mom and bitches about her day’s misadventures, the DISRESPECT she got from that ASSHOLE who “always gets like… like that,” that bitch who got mono, and how she has to pay rent, oh the horror. “700 dollars!” (Which lucky bitch. Seriously. She should be paying thousands of dollars a month for that place.) Her mom goes, “700 dollars? Your rent is 450 a month.” (HAH! But BITCH!) UppityBitch gets more uppity: “Yeah, but on top of that, there’s utilities…” Mom: “But I pay that.” (HAH! BITCH!) UppityBitch: “Ugh… but… throw me a bone, mom.” Yeah, um, I think her paying almost half of your ridiculously cheap rent is more than enough bones. Plus she was defending you against that awful black man a minute ago, and that awful bitch with mono. So, shut up. Shut up. Shutupshutupshutup.

I hate her. I seriously just sat staring at the television with my mouth wide open in disgust, unable to look away. Even if she was just putting on a persona for the show, who the hell picks that persona? It’s not as if she’s a fun villain, whose awesome, all-out bitchiness makes her fun to watch. She’s just whiny. And spoiled. And completely fucking annoying.

BossMan

My new boss? Cute. Not too old. Athletic. Smart. Nice. His wife just had a baby, but whatever, fuck her. Although who will want to anymore, am I right or am I right? Anyhoo, I was doing busywork when he walked up to me, stretched out his hand, and said, "Hi, Julia? I'm BossMan."

Surprised, I looked up, shook his hand, and said, "Julia." Even though he had just said my name so clearly he knew it. To my partial credit, I realized this soon enough to shrug my shoulders, laugh, and give a "hah, clearly you know this already since you just said my name" face as I said it. But what the hell? It started as just one of those automatic responses to when you meet someone. (The following sentence should be read in the voice of Lewis Black but you probably haven't heard this line from him so ignore this) Then... things took a turn. (Yes, I know, that was lame. Shove it. And this is all you're getting because I have to wake up early AGAIN tomorrow, god stupid jobs, and I have important TV shows to watch and stupid people to ignore coughcoughyouknowwhocough.)

Holidays Are All the Same Anyway

In honor of today being Christmas, and me being Jewish, I'm going to tell a Halloween story.

I was between 5 and 17 years of age. I'll go with 13. My friends and I were trick-or-treating in our friend's older cousins' neighborhood. I don't remember why we were there, but I remember walking into their house and seeing modeling photos of them covering the walls. Literally covering them. From floor to ceiling, in every room. It weirded me out-who does that? Were we supposed to comment on the pictures? Are the cousins not uncomfortable seeing themselves everywhere they look? It's a little strange for me to even have an abstract portrait of myself on my bedroom wall.

After we left The House of Either Vanity or Unhealthy Parental Obsession, we trick-or-treated. Duh. That's it. The End.

OR IS IT? Well, no. As we were leaving one of the first houses we "tricked" into giving us "treats," I accidentally said something like "Merry Christmas" or "Happy New Year." After that, we decided that it was the best, funniest idea ever to say things like that to anybody who opened his door, or didn't open his door, or happened to be walking by, or was a street lamp. We went crazy, running down streets and driveways, shouting "Merry New Year! Tricky Hanukkah! And a happy Groundhog's Day!"* Then I tripped over a yard light and knocked it out of the ground. Possibly something shattered. We ran away in self-righteous glee. That's what they got for having lights on but not giving us candy. (Ominous music plays) Trick or treat, indeed. (End ominous music)

If you think that was irresponsible and want to believe in karma, though, a few years later, or maybe the next year, or maybe the year before, my friends and I got egged by some guys driving by in a truck. Then we were followed by some old men who were hanging out at a playground around 2 AM. I hope I don't need to tell you that they were creepy old men, but I will: they were creepy. This wasn't on Halloween**, and I wasn't even with the same people***, but hey, karma's kapricious.

*I could blame this on a sugar high, but we were just like that.
**Yes it was.
***OR WAS I?****
****No, I wasn't.

L-A-Z-Y Lazy!

I have this every day posting thing going on, and I don't want to mess it up yet.* I also want to finish watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force. The result of these conflicting interests is this post, where I transcribe parts of a conversation I had with a friend earlier tonight. I worked at a camp with her; her real nickname is a deadly weapon, so Glock it is.

Part Un: Where Glock steals thoughts out from under my fingers. Bitch.

Glock: dude, not paying bills is a good thing. just remember that
You'd Laugh: yeah, but i don’t have any friends in florida
Glock: you could always make new friends
You'd Laugh: I DONT WANNA MAKE NEW FRIENDS I WANT MY OLD ONES WAAAAAH
Glock: ok, janie (a whiny camper we worked with) (not her actual name)
Glock: oh, wait, she didn't have any friends
You'd Laugh: oh come on, she didn't have any friends
You'd Laugh: HAH
Glock: LOL
You'd Laugh: wait, is tomorrow christmas?
Glock: yes it is, loser
Glock: oh, wait you’re jewish
You'd Laugh: jewish loser
You'd Laugh: STOP IT

Part Deux: Where Glock destroys my childlike innocence. Bitch.

Glock: what happens if you laugh during service?
You'd Laugh: the guys giving the sermon or whatever you call it turn around and shush you, and everyone else gives you the evil eye
You'd Laugh: its kind of embarrassing
You'd Laugh: not that i would know what that feels like...
Glock: i take it this has happened to you?
You'd Laugh: fine, you talked it out of me
You'd Laugh: i am horrible at being respectful to god
Glock: well, i hear he still loves you anyway. he just wants you to leave his torah alone
You'd Laugh: oh, ill tor his a
You'd Laugh: if you know what i mean
Glock: yeah, i do
You'd Laugh: (sex)
Glock: he said he only still loves you because you share in his love for the motzah
You'd Laugh: he’s just using me to spread his word... about balls?
Glock: at least you know the truth
You'd Laugh: next you’re gonna tell me the tooth fairy is really just my parents
You'd Laugh: and hannukah harry was made up
You'd Laugh: by some guy
You'd Laugh: … somewhere

Part Trois: Where Glock reveals her love of tofu. Pacifist bitch.

Glock: peace and tofu
You'd Laugh: tofu?
You'd Laugh: bye, hippie
Glock: yeah, well there's this phrase, "peace and chicken grease" but then i became vegetarian and started saying tofu
You'd Laugh: you're a veggie?
You'd Laugh: since when?
Glock: i was until camp
Glock: camp made it hard
Glock: clearly i needed my protein for all the strength it took not to slap a bitch

*I realized too late that I already posted today, but since I stole that one from the Old Jewish Lady post and it's really short, I'll just say that two short, lazy posts equal one requiring effort. Don't judge me.

Junior High School

Well, since you mentioned junior high school... I went out to dinner last night with my sister, my 23-year-old sister, who was talking about her newly serious boyfriend. Originally she had written him off as a rebound guy, but then she "woke up one day and realized what [she] had." Here she switched into a high-pitched little girl voice: "So I asked him to be my boyfriend." I cracked up: "Circle yes or no."

Retirement Homes=High School

Is it bad that I restarted this less than a week ago, yet I'm already dreading having to write in it? Probably not a good sign for its longevity, although I could turn it into an annual Christmas present for the world. "Hi world! Merry Christmas! I'm Jewish. Here's a blog post." I think instead what I need are shorter, more interesting stories that can be summed up in a few quotes-the one I have from today is relatively long and complicated, but I'll try and see if I can handle it. My 90% illiteracy might get in the way, so I make no promises. Also, this post kept me from watching Season 2 of Aqua Teen Hunger Force, which I just received in the mail. I only have 2 weeks of free Blockbuster rentals, so I was planning on watching everything I got at once, then switching it. Time is of the essence, and I'm wasting time! I hate you, blog.

Today I was forced into attending a religious service at my grandfather's temple. It's over half an hour away and apparently chock full of early birds, because I had to be woken up at 9. And yes, I realize that considering we got there around 10:15, it really isn't that early for people who live there, but for me it is. And it had already started when we go there. And I had taken an Ambien only five hours earlier. So there.

The old Jewish lady drama started the moment my mom, my sister and I walked into the temple and got seats. There weren't many seats left in the women's section, and definitely no grouping of three. (By the way-women's section? Hate it. Hate. It. Although I make fun of feminists all the time, for a few minutes I just sat staring at the barrier between us womenfolk and the big strong men, thinking how much I hated it. I thought, "Stupid barrier. Stupid old boys' club. Stupid Orthodox Judaism. Grumble grumble. Why doesn't anybody else seem to care about this? Harrumph.") Where was I? Oh yes, our merry band was trying to find connecting seats, which were lacking. There were four seats together in the last row, but they each had an article of clothing on them, the international symbol for "this seat is already taken thank you very much go away." As we stood contemplating where to go, an old Jewish lady got up from her seat, ushered us over to the four seats, moved the clothes onto one seat, and told us to sit down. We thanked her. My mom sat. My sister sat. I briefly wondered why she would have her stuff spread out like that on chairs that weren't close to her, but I figured, hey, she's an old Jewish lady. They're eccentric like that. So I sat and silently harrumphed at being oppressed by The Man.

Interrupting my grumbles, two old Jewish ladies stormed up to us. I had the aisle seat, so they hissed to me, "What are you doing? Didn't you see we were sitting there?" We all got up, apologized, and prepared to scatter, but Old Jewish Lady #1 stormed over and motioned for us to sit back down. Then she started to verbally bitch-slap Old Jewish Ladies #2 and 3: "There is no saving seats in temple! Go sit somewhere else." Old Jewish Lady #1 to us, who were still standing, looking around nervously: "Sit down."

Old Jewish Lady #2: "We were not saving seats, she just got here!" (The logic in that statement is... well, nonexistent. Someone who just got there should have zero priority over seating. Moving on.)

Old Jewish Lady #1, to #2 and 3: "You cannot reserve seats unless it's the high holidays. These people are guests. We need to be hospitable. You can go somewhere else. There is no saving seats."

Old Jewish Lady #1, to us: "Sit."

Old Jewish Lady #3: "You're right, we are the old-timers, we can find somewhere else to sit."

Old Jewish Lady #1, to us: "Sit down."

OJL #2 and 3 walked away as we gave them apologetic looks, and they moved to the next aisle over, a few rows up. I stared straight forward, tried not to laugh, and whispered "awwwkward" to my sister.

It was fascinating to watch the power struggle going on. Seeing it written down doesn't do the exchange justice. OJL #2 and 3 were bitter in a Janice-Ian-in-Mean-Girls sort of way, and OJL #1 was terrifying in a Regina-George-in-Mean-Girls sort of way. I mean, she was being nice to us and I was still scared. One might even say that I was scared in a Lindsay-Lohan-in-the-start-of-Mean-Girls sort of way. If one were into those sorts of analogies.

A few minutes later, OJL #2 came back to get their stuff from the seat next to me. She hissed something at me again that I didn't hear, and then: "[OJL #1] isn't very nice, that's for sure." Ok, Bitter Janice Ian With The Faulty Reasoning And The Scarf And The Sweater Even Though It's Florida And Like Ninety Degrees Outside. Goodbye.

By the way, why OJL #2 and 3 thought they needed to save four seats when there were clearly only two of them is a mystery to me, but hey, Old Jewish Ladies. What are ya gonna do?

Later on in the service, which lasted THREE HOURS oh Jesus Christ the boredom, another Old Jewish Lady had a run-in with another Regina George-ish Old Jewish Lady, though much more indirect. So indirect that it's not really a run-in, and I think OJL #4 didn't even notice. I did notice though, so I get to call it whatever I want. OJL #4 decided to further prove the stereotype about Old Jewish Ladies and pulled a hard candy out of her bag. The next 30 seconds of my life were filled with joy as I watched her sloooooooowwwwly untwist the crinkly wrapper. Despite her best efforts to do it silently, it was a hard candy in a crinkly wrapper. Ergo, crinkly noise in a small temple. So small that whenever people would talk during the service, the cantor and various other Important Men in White Drapey Jewish Things Whose Name I Am Ashamedly Unaware Of would turn and shush the women (because it was nearly always the women-maybe if we weren't penned off like sheep-grumble). OJL #5: Regina George, the Sequel, one row in front of OJL #4: The Crinkler, kept turning her head to shoot sidelong death glares at The Crinkler. Regina George, the Sequel, might I add, was impeccably dressed and groomed and be-hatted and shod and make-upped and lemon-mouthed, which was in contrast to most of the other women there. Regina George, the Sequel, did her best to shut up The Crinkler, but she was blissfully unaware of the social purgatory towards which she was heading. (Sidenote: If I make it to old age and have to sit through a religious service in a retirement home, I'm totally going to be like these two OJL's who talked through the whole thing, despite being in different rows, laughing when they got shushed, and essentially being quite disrespectful towards The Lord. And The Important Men In Charge. That was me in high school.) (And college...) (Fine, and religious ceremonies...)

After the service, in the car with my grandfather, we were all discussing his lady friends, past and potential. (It's not "ew," all they do is lunch together, I tell myself.) He mentioned a woman who he had previously asked out and who had previously rejected him. He also mentioned that he was going to ask her out again, that everybody told him to because "she's a widower who's very wealthy." My sister applauded his persistence. Then we realized that he was talking about an impeccably groomed and be-hatted and pursed-lipped woman. My mother and I trashed the snooty bitch who we've never met. My mother and sister pushed a different woman on him, an OJL who they had met ten minutes before and "seemed personable."

My grandfather's confused response: "That short woman?"

Heh. So high school.

Alcohol and Porn

Alcohol:
I turn 21 in about a month, and I won't be in college anymore. I don't even know if I'll be in the same state as any of my friends, although I hope I will be. It's strange-I just decided to take time off from school, potentially forever, and the thing I'm most concerned about is how I'm going to spend my next birthday. Not whether or not I'll be able to get credit for last semester, not what job I'm going to get, not how I'm going to find a place to live if I don't stay at home, but who I'm going to go out drinking with when I'm legal.

Porn:
A year or so ago, some computer guy came to make my computer less crappy than it was. I forgot that he was coming, and so when he turned on my computer, the background said "BJ Services Pumping Furiously," and the screen saver, which started after a couple minutes, said "the penis mightier." To make it even more embarrassing, my mother saw everything. But so what, right? That was a long time ago. And yes, good point, me. Except... the same guy came by to look at my computer a couple days ago. He took it home with him because he had to go somewhere. My screen saver? Still "the penis mightier." Thank god I've at least changed my background, though. Yeah. To this:


And it's stretched out to fill the whole screen, which makes it so much better/worse. At least it doesn't make me seem like a perv, and it's more clearly a joke. Hopefully he didn't find my enormous cache of pornographic videos, although considering it was all in a folder titled "BIG DICKS, SMALL CHICKS" on my desktop, I'm not too hopeful.

New Computer!

I am in the best mood ever. Today I got a job and, more importantly, a new laptop. If you've never met my laptop, you probably can't fathom how much this means for me. Basically, it's been a complete piece of crap for the last two years. A few months ago, one of my housemates, P, came to borrow a lighter. (A smoker who never has cigs or a lighter. Wonderful.) As she stepped through the door, she looked around in surprise and asked me what "that noise" was. I told her that it was my computer. P: "Oh my god, I've never heard a noise like that in my life. It's so loud, it sounds like an alien ship or something." And it really really did. DID! Hah! Now I can totally have more than one application open on my computer at the same time! I'm giddy.

Oh right, and the job? My new boss walked up to me as I was doing a crossword puzzle and eating egg salad in my pj's. He seriously told me that he thought this would be good both for me and for the company. I gazed up at him, removed the fork from my mouth, and said, "Um, ok. What am I gonna get paid?" Because really, what else matters?

Funny story: I tried some new fancy-schmancy no-fat, low-carb frozen yogurt after dinner. I got a flavor called "Oreo Cookies 'n' Cream." As I started eating it, I thought to myself, "Hmm, this tastes familiar. What does this taste like? It's kinda of like, oh god, what is it... [5 minutes of intense concentration ensue.] Oh right. Oreos. And cookies and cream ice cream. Wow, that probably would have been quicker if I just remembered what the flavor's called." And I seriously thought that.

So Yeah.

Let's all just pretend these last however many months (years? I don't know and I'm too lazy to check) where I completely forgot that this thing and the interweb in general existed. This will be easy, seeing as how you and I both have Alzheimer's. HAHA JUST KIDDING JUST KIDDING. I mean, if you do, sorry, I guess that was tasteless. But moving on. Sooo, today I almost killed myself by ramming my car into a busy street-I didn't know it was busy! Until I almost hit that car with that couple! And the wife gave me a dirty look! What, it's not my fault! Neither is the fact that I almost fell asleep at the wheel, pretty much whenever I was behind it! Because of the drugs! And your mother!

It's also your mother's fault that I stole a headband from Target yesterday. I wasn't even intending on getting it, but as I tried it on, the tag fell off into my hand. I like to take things like that as signs that I should do things like steal things.

Anyhoo, the real reason I wanted to speak with you tonight is to discuss my father's recent behavior. This afternoon he had a business meeting in a city about an hour away, and he was supposed to get a ride back from a car service. You know, in time to have dinner at home with his parents who were visiting. When the driver came to pick him up, though, he (the driver) had a cold. My father is a little paranoid about things like that, so he wouldn't get in the car. He missed dinner. My mother had to leave dinner early to pick him up. He's an oddball. That's all. I'm out.