Total. Random. Shit.

Best Quote: "I finally showed Shelly 'My Wena' and she loved it!" - Denise
Dumbest way I've hurt myself: Smashed my left foot in my car door... wearing flip-flops... trying to get INTO my car. Yeah.
Most exciting thing: Getting a B+ on my first biochem exam! and the weather, seriously.
Song stuck in my head: "Boys, Boys, Boys" by Lady GaGa

Um... and there are other things I could share, but that's you know, like the important shit. There was something totally funny that happened that I was going to share, but as usual, I forgot to post about it like right away, and now I forgot, because I'm an asshole like that.

OH, but I can share that I had the most wickedly frightening and yet totally intriguing dream Sunday night. I had a dream that 2 fellas, who I apparently knew but now couldn't tell you who they were, put me in a freaking mental institution. I kept trying to escape, and screaming at them like I wasn't crazy, but they kept telling me I would be ok, I just needed to let them help me as they locked my ass repeatedly in a padded cell and I somehow managed to escape and kept flogging them and telling them I wasn't crazy which I'm SURE only made them think I was more and more crazy and then I woke up. Yeah. I think my subconscious is trying to tell me I'm going nuts, but meh, I could be mistaken.

Happy hump day.


10 weeks and counting...

Ok so yes, yes I'm busy. Yes I have to schedule my life, like, kind of down to the minute. Does it blow? Yes. Is it just a sad fact? Yes. Does this make me happy? No. I have 3 exams this week which means reading, studying, etc. plus class, work, life and empty weekends that are filling up faster than I can blink. Next week? 2 exams. In a couple weeks I'm driving to Tucson for Cassie's wedding, and that week? I have 3 tests. My life is being consumed by tests! So please, stop giving me crap about things, mmkay? I'm trying here folks, I'm trying. I can't be in six places at once and I can't function on zero sleep because the small amount I get now is trying enough and sadly, I want to do well in my classes, all of them, all 19 units worth of them, which means I need to do work. Suck suck annnnd suck.

So here's me, treading water. 10 more weeks to go. Bare with me ya'll.

And so this isn't a total downer, this weekend I paraded around downtown Hanford wearing a clown nose, cause I'm awesome like that. Also? I have a mystery bruise, on the side of my knee, in the crease where my leg bends and it's HUGE and purple and hurts like a biznatch. How did it get there? Seriously, you'd think I'd remember whacking my leg right there? wtf?


Insightfulness? From me? Better run.

I know, I know, it's been like 2 weeks since I posted, but life as a working student = craptacularly busy. Speaking of, I'm off to do some Beef Production homework (oh yeah, you can be jealous) so here's a post I've been working on for awhile and wasn't sure I was ever going to put up because it's fairly personal and not my usual tone, but what the hell, I don't have time to do anything else and I don't want to get yelled at for not posting so here you go. If you don't want to read something that's not my usual snarkiness, then go here and reread how I'm like a new age Bridget Jones or you can go here and check out the awesome Bloggess and how she found the miracle boobie-mushroom.

I've freaking had it. I am so sick and tired of being judge by people who don't even know me. Can you look at me and tell what kind of person I am? No. Can you look at me and see what I've been through or am currently going through? No. So stop fucking judging.

You can't tell by looking at me that my father committed suicide when I was 10.
You can't tell that I'm afraid of spiders.
You can't tell that my relationship with my family isn't perfect even though I love them to death.
You can't tell that I've never really felt like I've fit in anywhere.
You can't tell that I'm desperately afraid of falling below the expectations others have of me.

And on and on. There are so many things about a person that are not reflected in their appearance or their actions (though I believe actions speak loudly to a persons character) that it is impossible to look at them and say you know them. Then why on earth is our society so fucked that it places so much importance on the exterior package? I've been called everything you can think of and the biggest one is intimidating. Why? Because I'm quiet when you first meet me? Because I look like a bitch? I just don't understand these things. Or because I'm a reasonably well adjusted, fairly successful female individual who is intelligent and doesn't take your shit? If that makes me intimidating, so be it.

I won't lie and say that I haven't given in to the pressures of our society to fit a mold that is impossible. I've spent the past 3ish years working on my physical appearance, and while I am still working on this issue and have done so to be healthier and feel better about myself, I would be lying if I didn't say that societal pressures helped fuel the need to change. Here are two pictures, the first taken in September of 2006, the second in May of 2009.

Big difference? Try about 75 pounds. Am I proud of this? HELL YES! That's several years of blood, sweat, tears, and many a painful sore day of waking up after a brutal day at the gym. But do I feel satisfied? Like I've done enough and now I just need to maintain a healthy lifestyle? No. And why? Because it still doesn't feel like enough. It still doesn't feel like I "fit in". I've spent the majority of my life not fitting in and generally, it doesn't matter. I've always been an oddball, in fact it's kind of part of my charm, but when it comes to people judging you, we all have insecurities because the world tells us that if we don't fit the norm, if we don't blend in with society, then we will not be as likely to succeed. Do I believe this in my heart of hearts? No. Because dammit if I spend 10 years in college and get multiple degrees and can't be successful because I'd rather live and eat icecream and cheeseburgers than have an eating disorder, then something is so fucked up with that I can't even wrap my mind around it.

There is a fantastic book (that kind of has nothing to do with this, but maybe a little) called Frenemies by Megan Crane, and the following is a passage that I think is fantastic and can probably describe almost every woman out there.
I had great plans to surgically excise the quaking, complaining teenager within someday. If I could just get rid of her and her thousands upon thousands of issues - Do I look fat? Am I ugly? Will anyone ever love me? Will I always be alone? Is she fatter than me? How ugly am I? Are they making fun of me? - I was convinced I would immediately become the sort of casual and laid back adult person who was forever smiling and was genuinely unconcerned with the size and/or shape of her body.
I wasn't holding my breath.
We are all insecure, unsure and a little afraid of what we can't see. So why do we spend all of time making each other feel like crap? Yes, I am perfectly aware that I am a snarky beetoch, who makes fun of people incessantly and uses sarcasm like it is my first language, but in all actuality I can't say I'd ever want to intentionally make someone question who they are by the words I use. So you there, who think you know me because of what you see, you're wrong. You might be able to see the bags under my eyes from working 36 hours a week and taking 19 units while trying to fulfill family and friend obligations, but you can't see the drive behind those bags that makes me want to put myself through all that.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that you don't know what a person has gone through to make them who they are. Those of you who have known me a long time, know a lot about why I am the way I am and why I make the decisions I make, and if you don't, then ask don't just assume. We need to realize that what we see on the surface is a fraction of who a person is or who they can become. So just stop judging. If a person drops the f-bomb all the time, that doesn't make them a bad person, it just makes them slightly less socially acceptable in mixed company. If a person is a little overweight, that doesn't make them a bad person or mean they deserve to have you make them feel uncomfortable, it just means that their body is different than yours. So yes, I cuss a lot, I'll never be a size 2, or hell even a size 10 probably, I'm picky and aggressive and driven, but I'm also incredibly giving, social with people I enjoy and a damn good time to be around.

Society makes it hard enough for us to live comfortably in our own skins, lets not make it any harder for eachother. Especially as women. We're bombarded with images of what society expects a woman to look like and guess what? She's not real. I have yet to meet a real woman who meets that kind of criteria, so any of you men reading this, just give it a rest already.

We're all imperfect, so lets just embrace each others imperfections, even if they annoy the shit out of us because I'll be the first to admit that I totally get annoyed and frustrated, but that doesn't give me the right to make that person feel bad about themselves (unless they're making me feel bad about MYSELF, because then it's just on, I'm all about self preservation!).

And society? Go fuck yourself with your ridiculous standards, I'm operating on my own and I don't give a shit if you agree.


It's an epidemic, or pandemic, or just a freaking conspiracy.

Fucking eh it's been like, a millenia since I blogged. Whatever. It's really because my life isn't that exciting. Unless you consider the fact that my insomnia is back exciting. I don't. And if you do, you're an asshole so get the hell out of here. Jerk. And I hate that I don't realize I'm not going to be able to sleep until it's too late to pop some freaking tylenol pm, b/c I'd love some of that shit right now, however, I'd be lights out until WAY past when I'm supposed to be at work ,which if you're counting, is just over 6 hours from now. UUUUUGGGHHH. (This could possibly be why I shouldn't allow myself to go to bed between 1-2 am during the weekends because my body's clock gets JACKED, but whatever, a girl's got to have fun sometimes.)

Ok so today Megan and I went shopping and basically the world hates me. Case #1: In American Eagle looking around, find cute top on bottom rack, set soda on shelf and grab top, touch shelf and SEND SODA FUCKING FLYING ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE AND SHELF CRASHING DOWN ON MY HEAD. Really? REALLY?! So then I feel/look like a total jackass as I'm running this dripping cup of soda out of the store leaving what totally looks like a pee-pee trail behind me (it was diet pepsi, honestly people) and then back in apologizing to the workers and begging for paper towels to clean up my mess. Case #2: Leave AE with little dignity in tact and enter NY&Co. Wander around, and somehow manage to rip my pinky toe off on one of the sale racks. Um, wow. Case #3: Go to payless, box of shoes jumps off the damn shelf at me. Case #4: Get shanked in the butt by a metal hanging display thing in Wet Seal. Case #5: uhh... something happened in Old Navy but now I can't remember. So, as you can see either the world truly wants to end me, or perhaps just maim me, or is telling me not to go shopping. But whatever, I made it out alive (sucker) and before I ran out of money. So HA!

This upcoming weekend I'm going to SF to see 2, count them 1. 2. concerts! Yippee! The Killers and then Blink 182 and Weezer. SO stoked. It's going to be awesome. And this past Saturday the college football season started, which basically rocks my world, and means that it's time to see some live games. Hell freaking yes. I swear, I'm such a boy. AND Kasey Kahne, totally won the race on Sunday. Damn, great month so far September, keep it up (minus those 2 tests I have coming up next week. Those, September, blow. Work on it.)

Normally here is where I'd try to leave you with some parting words of wisdom or witty repetoire, but I am so stinking tired that my brain will not function properly and YET cannot pass out. FML, seriously. Who's bringing me starbucks in the am? anyone? ANYONE? Grande Carmel Frap Lite? Please? Ugh, assholes.