Sunday, November 28, 2004

thanksgiving 2004: adventures in boobery

crazy cousin once removed: [mid rant about "nam"] it's like marlon brando said in "apoclypse now"... "the horror! the horror!!"
me: ...um... ya... i've never seen "apolcypse now". too heart of darknessy.
ccor: are you being a smartass?
me: are you being a dumbass?
dad: [snoring in recliner]
ccor: are you dating any boys? or girls?
me: no. [walk over to mom, grandma, and great-aunt]
great aunt: walmart is putting small stores out of business.
grandma: i got this ring at walmart!
ccor: i know why you're not dating anyone. [grabs my butt] you've gotten fat.
me: gasp!
mom: i bet a 2 carat diamond engagement ring would make you seem thinner.
me: [speechlessness]
ccor: i bet 2 big melons would make you seem thinner.
me: [wishing the ground would swallow me up]
g-ma: you and i don't have to wear bras!

and then i died.

Monday, November 15, 2004

snapt

how to not run your factory in an efficient and profitable manner comparable to "the apprentice" a.k.a. the best show EVER i think kelly will win.
pay your graphic designer less than the newly hired candy packagers.
let "are you kidding me with this dave?!" dave use her computer to read espn sports, play online hearts, and download viruses that cause her computer to CRASH!
and then let her deal with all the printers and newspaper ad people who were apparantly promised files from the CRASHED computer ASAP by people who are not her.
hire 40 year old nigel the dish washer to be the new office manager even though he is crazy and threw a pretzel rod across the kitchen because the dish washing pressures were just too much. yep. let him be the face of your company.
don't allow any discussion over redoing your super lame company website.
let freaky popcorn jason and his freaky popcorn wife wander around in the back of the factory "supervising" the newly hired packagers packaging their freaky popcorn and also looking at newly mocked up box ideas that happen to be popcorn boxes.

so now i have to somehow buy their company and fire them.

Monday, November 08, 2004

2 cents

everyone i work with has been doing a "yay! bush is president! the country is no longer in danger of careening down into a pit of terrorism and economic ruin!" victory dance.
good on them.
contrasted with my non work friends who've been doing a "crap! bush is president! the country is now in danger of careening down into a pit of terrorism and economic ruin!" defeat dance.
that's hard.
me? i am doing no dance. i'm doing a pathetically apathetic non-dance. seriously. i want to have an opinion. i wish somebody would explain their fuss to me so i could join in and have some sort of lasting side inclination.
i think all this makes me wishy washy.
or a fence sitter.
or something else equally disappointing.

in one of my high school yearbooks there's a huge, 2 page spread of a bunch of students cheering at a football game. it's complete pandemonium. everyone's going crazy.
except me, who's standing there with some pretty impressive not caring. (plus, my hair is doing some weird floopy thing).

here's where my problem is, i think. i know that who the president is matters. i tell myself this. that it somehow effects my life, but i just don't see it.
it doesn't change the fact that i've misplaced $60.
it doesn't change the fact that despite taking soda completely out of my diet for the last month, i have gained 2 pounds.
it doesn't change the fact that at dinner friday night i ended up playing the role of "live in girlfriend" to a random gay friend who needed to "butch it up" for his co workers who, i'm guessing, haven't realized his pure outness by now because of all the "SAKE BOMBS!!" they were downing that night.
it doesn't change the fact that i think he got to second base.
it doesn't change the fact that the teller at zion's bank has a crush on the dressed up me cashing my paycheck, and then two weeks later asks the scrubby (and 2 pounds heavier) me if i know one of his friends who also works at the chocolate factory and is their graphic designer.
so i say ya, and isn't she swell.

if the presidential election could somehow fix all that, then believe you me i'd take more of an interest.
i swear.

it might be time to feng shui my room again, because there's some serious karmac energy gone awry.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

falling off the wagon

after falling off the moderately-healthy-eating-regime-wagon into a huge pile of taco bell, i've come to a crossroads.
i can either (A) live in a dark abyss of grilled stuffed burritos, continue the first name basis with the drive in guy, and await the obvious copy cat documentary of me, the sad taco bell woman who can no longer fit through its doors... or (B) not.
i choose not.
stupid taco bell. seducing me with your 89 cent tacos and beacon-like sign.

Monday, November 01, 2004

life is like a shark

this morning i finally saw a personalized licence plate cover i approve of, and even kind of want for myself because it said, "don't follow me, i'm lost too."
except i don't want it on my licence plate, i want it on my t-shirt.
or on a blinking neon sign floating 10 inches above my head.

not to give the impression that i'm anymore lost than usually. i'm, in fact, rather compacent.
that can't be good.
feeling settled in a place that you don't want to be settled can't be good. i have a slightly ominous feeling that 10 years from now i'll still be in provo, taking classes, on the verge of poverty, with the same stupid dent in the bumper of my car.

random jumping of topics.
the licence plate kind of reminded me of when i wanted to move to arizona two years ago because i hated snow, and shoes, and daylight savings, and byu. but i decided to be rational, and ended up not packing up my life (sans sweaters, coats, and shoes) and heading for the small art college with tripled tuition.
i made a very smart decision.
which left me directionless for a good month and a half.
i could've totally used a personalized t-shirt (or neon sign).

jumping back to the now.
i still hate snow, and daylight savings, etc. and so i wonder how it is that i'm so complacent.

is it true that if sharks stop moving, they die?

this it one of those freewritey blogs that honestly has no resolution, or flow, or point.
maybe if you read back over it you'll find some symbolism or something.