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 |  Are hash tags still cool? |
| After recovering from a small bout of depression, I'm back again to talk about first world problems, make fun of my ridiculousness, and find a place where I can just be me. |
Motivational Monday! Flemish mapmaker Gerardus Mercator was born on this day in 1512. What's been your reasoning behind going anywhere you once thought before you'd never get to? I was fortunate to grow up very sheltered. I lived in a cul-de-sac with cookie cutter houses. The rules were simple. Come home when the streetlights come on. Don’t go any further than that stop sign. As I grew older, so did my cul-de-sac. It slowly included the movie theatre, then Walgreens, and eventually the other side of the city. I didn’t think further than my parents allowed me to think, and life was very linear. My job as a child was to go to elementary school, middle school, high school, and then college. College was not optional. My friends are starting to grow families. They’ve already started it. They keep their children around good families, and teach that the path to success is through college. I think most of society is very good about teaching one line to success. Success comes through hard work and perseverance. Success is climbing a ladder. Success is another degree or a graduation. Success is a nice house. I once thought after college I would graduate and get a job near my parents. Instead, I graduated during one of the worst recessions in history. I had my shiny degree with no job prospects. Every job I interviewed for told me I had no job experience. Suddenly, all of the A’s on the refrigerator didn’t mean one damn thing. I was broke, living on my parent’s sofa. I applied for jobs every single day. I followed every interview tip I could find. However, all I ever received was a bunch of well-worded letdowns. I received so many rejection letters; sometimes I think I should write rejections for a living. There’s got to be money in the rejection business. One day, an employer called me in a little country town I’d never heard of. I didn’t even know I put in an application to work there. I didn’t even know it was a place in Texas! The city was 6 hours away from everyone I knew and loved, but I thought it’d be a fun trip. I interviewed, got the job, and less than a month later was a resident of this town. When I think about it now, I think about how STUPID that decision was. A reasonable person doesn’t just up and move to live completely alone somewhere new! I’m not the type of person who takes risks. I’m the type of person who comes home as soon as the streetlights come on. I spent the first night with a chair under the doorknob so no one would kill me. At night it got too dark, and I had no friends. Sometimes I cried because I missed my family. I did the 30-day blogging challenge so I wouldn’t feel so alone. I wish I could explain how much the blogs meant to me. There were many nights I went to bed not feeling isolated because I could always pretend I had friends writing to me about their day. Looking back, I don’t know where I found the inner-strength to live in those 3 months. Now, I have friends, and I’ve made a life for myself. I’ve promoted where I work, and I’ve found happiness somewhere I never even considered living. It’s been a great big adventure for me, and all the reward I’ve experienced was worth the risk of moving. In all my planning of success, I would have never imagined this was the path…I’ve come to learn that risks are often worth the reward. The road to success is paved with so many rolls of the dice and forks in the road; I think you have to learn to be happy wherever you wind up taking a pit stop. There is no telling, no matter how well you’ve planned or how scary it is, where you’re going to end up. |
The Sunday News! In February, teachers throughout the entire state of West Virginia went on strike , citing poor working conditions including low salaries and rising costs of benefits. Strikes by public employees aren't legal in WV, yet the teachers have been willing to take the risk because the situation can't get much worse, and there aren't enough certified teachers in the state in part because starting salaries are startlingly low. What do you think? What's a fair salary for teacher, based on the expectations faculty administrations and parents place on them? Any other thoughts on the topic? First things first, no child cares that a school was closed. These little hoodlums are running the streets, eating tide pods, screaming at Wal-Mart, and getting dumber every minute. Good job teachers! Don’t go to work. America needs to deal with the mouthy entitled crumb snatchers we’re responsible for raising. If no one wants to pay the cost to educate children, then don’t. The teachers can use their smarts to enter another field or work at a private school, and parents across West Virginia can teach children to count toes and blow their noses. Children can be left behind. It’s ok. What dumb idiot would want to be a teacher anyway? Children are disease infested and they scream and cry and whine and have no money and complain. Literally, they contribute nothing of value, except for the fact they’re the future. I don’t like children. I like the future. Even I know that one day I’m going to need to use one of these little snot-nosed mutants to be good at the new maths and decide the correct amount of nitrous oxide before my surgery. I’m also going to need someone who gives a damn to teach these kids not to make death panels, or vote Donald Trump into the White House. I need this new generation to be better than millenials. We millennials are poor and we’re barely #adulting. Government employees never get raises. Instead they have to advocate state legislatures, and pray someone cares enough about their cause to earn an extra dime. Right now, the teachers are just asking the state government, to make it worthwhile to do something they’re passionate about. No one ever went into teaching to be rich, and they aren’t even asking to be millionaires. We pay football players and basketball players millions. We pay Kylie Jenner a stupid amount of money for her lip kits. Teachers deserve to be paid at least a competitive salary, and if we don’t feel like paying the cost…it’s cool. The future can be stupid. But eventually, it’ll be our lives we’re being stupid with. I hate to say it, but even a crack addict knew… Children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside. Give them a sense of pride….. |
Creation Saturday! This is the title and cover of your next book. What's it about? And what are some of the world-famous authors saying on its back cover? Alpaca ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ...If you'd like to use it in your entry. Chrystel is making a mess in my kitchen. She keeps saying she’s going to clean it up, and right now she’s cleaning my wooden table with a wet paper towel like a heathen, but she’s making me a cinnamon whiskey cake. I, also, have no pledge, so maybe it’s me who is the barbarian. It’s great to have friends who are as good as mine. I feel like I should set the mood and tell you about these awesome characters that are in my life, but I have to tell you about my book. The title of my book would be Really Bad jokes, and other stories. It would be a poorly written, unedited, motivational book. Why? I’ve always wanted to be a motivational speaker. I’ve wanted to get in front of people and say feel good things that could be summed up in a meme. I also want to be like Henry David Thoreau. You know an excellent writer, who during his time period everyone thought was a pompous load of garbage, quotable enough to get tattooed on an upper forearm next to a tribal tattoo. Side note: Chrystel just gave me some of this cinnamon whiskey cake. HOT DAMN! Snack break. The back cover would have Oprah endorsing it. I love Oprah, she’s rich enough that she doesn’t have to endorse anything, so you know she only supports things she really likes. Like weight watchers. I think Oprah is good enough, aside from maybe a Kardashian. You know to get the young folks into it. I plan on them saying really generic things, and for it to have lots of pictures. It’ll be in the front of Barnes and Nobles, and people who don’t read will flip through it and buy it as one of those gifts for someone who likes to read. It’ll end up sitting on a shelf somewhere earning me money with little to no work, and that’s all I want; lots of money for minimal effort. |
Fun Fact Friday! On this day in 1984, the first McDonald's franchise was closed; a new location was opened across the street from the old one in Des Plaines, Illinois. Have you ever worked in fast food (or the restaurant industry in general)? Tell us about your experience! Good, bad, ugly, and/or fun! And if you haven't, I'm sure you've got an entertaining restaurant experience from the customer's perspective you'd be more than willing to share. It is a truth universally acknowledged that every 50-mile radius has two I-hops; one really nice I-hop and one really crappy one. I want you to know, as a card-carrying member of I-HOP’s Pancake Revolution, I am an I-HOP expert. Joke Time: Q: What is the name of the girl with no leg? A: Eileen Q: Where does she work? A: I-HOP I don’t care if you laugh; it’s a solid joke. I laugh every time. I’m not going to talk much about the nice I-HOP because that’s the place you take parents and presidents. The best I-hop is the crappy one because it’s an experience. Probably because I only ever go to I-HOP at 2:00 AM and normally I’m drunk pretending to Sober. The best part about IHOP is I’m not the only person who is blitzed out of her mind. One time the hostess poured hot coffee all over her hand, and didn’t move a freaking muscle! She didn't say "Ouch!" Nothing. She just stared like deep in her soul she was a robot. One time I was so drunk I was walking behind the hostess to be seated at our table, but I wasn’t following the hostess. The hostess was still at the front door, and I just sat at a table. Then I whispered to my friend, “Do you think they know we’re drunk,” and proceeded to giggle for the next hour and a half or however long it took me to finish that nutella crepe. My most memorable time at I-HOP is when a roach scuttled across the table, on top of my hand, through my pancakes, and then on the chair. I screamed bloody murder. Have you ever screamed at a restaurant? Probably about the most entertaining thing you’ll do this month. As the perplexed diners watched me jump back and forth hoping that little mo-fo didn’t decide to fly, the I-HOP waitress held two menus like she wasn’t paid enough for all the stories she’d seen. I-HOP servers have a look on their faces like they’ve SEEN things, and I mean things. She killed the roach with one of the menus, and then they offered to bring us more food. Because, you know, why wouldn’t I still want I HOP after that? Later, I was kindly escorted out of the restaurant by a police officer because I was cussing out the cashier for STILL trying to make me pay for the meal. Have you ever cussed a manager out at I HOP? Also, the best thing you’ll ever do this month. After a few years passed, I braved I HOP yet again. I still go. It’s not that great, and every time I go I wonder why I go back. Maybe I go because even though a roach crawled on my hand, and my server was on meth, at least I wasn't bored. |
The Wildcard Round! This week's winner, chosen by the Virtual Dice from all eligible entries at some point this weekend, will receive a Finance Merit Badge! Tell us about a purchase you made after receiving a large sum of money. Last year ,in February, I hit a hiccup with my depression. A hiccup is the period right before you start on anti-depressants so you skip work to stay in bed all day and dream of running away to Shreveport. Except, adults don't run away. Adults just move. As you explain this to your therapist, you just wish you could pack a bag and run away from depression, but you can't and so you cry and cry and cry.... As luck would have it, during the Great Depression of February 2017 I came to one large revelation. You can't wallow in a broken bed. Oh THAT bed. That Great Depression of February 2017 bed. First things first, I'd had a history with beds. (1) The college bed. Which was actually a cot that I had more fun rolling across the street with my friends than actually sleeping on. (2) The cot....phase 2. After I graduated, the cot was put on top of another mattress at my parents house. After using WebMd, I thought my back problems were a result of my kidneys. After watching ER re-runs I became convinced I was soon going to need a kidney replacement and had to start looking for possible matches. (3) The couch....The cot got infested (which is a whole other story). I was 25 and sleeping on my parents old couch, which had even less support than the cot. I now had pain in my fingers, which according to WebMd was a result of the carpral tunnel that I was catching. Let's not forget the increased back pain from my nearly non-functional kidneys. (4) The Great Depression of 2017 bed..I rented a bed from a Shady little Rental store that didn't check your credit. The bed clearly had a good side and a bad, which over time became a slow but very steady dip that my fat, any boyfriend I had, nearly lifeless kidneys, carpral tunnel, and -of course- my newly WebMd diagnosed borderline personality disorder decided to roll to. Gravitational pull, you know? So when my first fat tax return hit, I was going to save all the money because I was really poor. But, I was also really miserable. Emotionally miserable, physically miserable, 1% kidney function miserable because my doctor's wouldn't put me on a transplant list. (They said nothing was actually wrong with my kidneys! But, I did the WebMD symptom checker! So take that Medical Degree!) I was going to save it. I swear to you. I was going to put it in my wallet for when I needed it for an emergency. But you know what happened, by mid March I started my anti-depressants. Which if you've ever started on anti-depressants, you know it's actual HELL on earth. For a solid week, I had a very scheduled 11:00 AM panic attack. So now I was less miserable emotionally, but physically full of diarrhea.....Great. I was that little Zoloft ball rolling away from my dark cloud with that little smile on my face. Things were going to be ok. So, for months I'd been dreaming about what it would be like to have this awesome Princess in the Pea bed. You know, a real, freaking bed! The bed for a single woman! And, with that extra money in my pocket I bought the best purchase I've ever made in my life. Seriously, it miraculously cured my ailing kidneys, my carpral tunnel, my miserable existence. I bought the nicest king size mattress in the world, and I made my bed ridiculously luxurious. Sure, I had no money in my savings, and sure there were emergencies..... But a bed is an emergency. Because when I had no money for those emergencies, I just got under the covers and closed my eyes and pretended like my problems weren't happening. But it's seriously the best thing I ever bought with a lump sum of money. EVER! hands down. |
| I’m sorry for being MIA the past two weeks. I love what writing.com has done with the place! As you know, there’s only two probable reasons that I would abandon blogging for the week: 1) Winning Lottery Ticket 2) Boys As I’d hire a ghost writer to continue this blog if I ever won the lottery, I’m happy to say my love life is looking up. Here’s the "Invalid Item"  prompt: Describe where you live. I live in a small and certified retirement community in the middle of na-where Texas. There are no malls, no skyscrapers, and no liquor stores. The people who live here are nice conservatives who smoke like chimneys, and drive big ass Trucks. I often find myself wondering why a liberal city-gal like myself would start enjoying my life in this small cawntry town. Of course, there’s only one answer that I can think of, it grows on you. I’m also the type of person who likes to make her own fun. I find humor in the small day-to-day things that most people are too busy rolling their eyes to laugh at. In fact, that’s one of my unspoken life mottos: Roll with the punches, laugh at the stupid stuff, and keep positive. The following are things that have had me rolling on the floor lately: PEOPLE IN TRUCKS I consider this a matter of philosophical debate: Are people assholes because they own a big ass truck or does the big ass truck make people assholes? I drive a small chevy cavalier, there is no way in hell that I will ever win a race with a brand spanking new F-150. When the truck ahead of me is blowing off a crap load of exhaust to blur my vision of the street so that I’ll loose the race, I can’t help but laugh. Was there ever a doubt that the truck would win? PRESIDENT OBAMA & JESUS I try not to mention politics or religion in polite conversation. (Seriously, I did that in college, and I’m over it.) I also try not mention politics or religion because I live here in the middle of na-where Texas-where just last week I saw a dead armadillo. It’s not hard to guess that most of the people here are super conservative and super Christian. If I mention Barack Obama, Gays, or Jesus in a sentence, people here feel personally obligated to voice their opinion. Even if the sentence is something like: President Obama is coming to West because of the fertilizer plant. Or The word gay means happy. Or Jesus is awesome. Sometimes when I’m bored I’ll mention all 3 together in a sentence and see what happens. Did you hear that President Obama loves Jesus and the gays? It’s actually fun seeing people struggle to figure out what they’re going to talk about first. Its like mind-blowing! THE GUN CONTROL DEBATE I never voice my opinion on gun control because my adversaries are extremely likely to have a gun, and I don’t want to get shot. I’ve decided to just roll with the punches when it comes to gun control. Yep, just take it all in. (well, except bullets.) I find it funny that in the midst of the gun control debate my town has opened up a Guns-R-Us. What do you expect from a town 15 miles away from-Gun Barrel City, TX? I’ve also been invited to two Damsels in Distress parties. You’ve never heard of it? Well, let me explain it to you. A Damsels in Distress party is literally a Mary Kay party sans make-up but with guns and tasers. (Yes, this is a real thing!) NEW THINGS Whenever something new opens up, my town goes freaking crazy. This is probably because we don’t have normal things like a Wendy’s or a Dairy Queen. In fact, if you want Wendy’s you’ve got to drive 15-30 miles. When pizza hut and little caesars opened up a few months ago….people went crazy. In fact, pizza hut constantly runs out of food. In the big city, pizza hut isn’t a big thing. Here, I’ve got to fight folks to get a few wings and some wedge fries. BLOCKBUSTER Blockbuster doesn’t exist you say? It does here. This might be the only place in America with one. Personally, I think it’s still here because even Blockbuster forgot that they had one here. EFFING WALMART Have you ever gone to that website, People of Walmart? Well, if you have, then you know that all of those people live in my town, and that they go to Walmart on the regular. Two months ago, I met a woman in the pencil aisle who was flipping out because she didn’t know that Walmart had an office supply aisle. She told me, “Is this a new aisle?” and “I just found out what a scantron is!” The sad part is that the office supply aisle has been there forever and is literally at the front of the store. |
The 2 cents topic is
Relationship Hassles You asked for it, and now you will get what you asked for. In fact I think this deserves a header. The Brief History of My Relationships written by Me 2nd Grade My relationship struggles began with the Power Rangers. This was back when Power Rangers was "da bomb", and Tommy was a hot ninja instead of the dude who never left high school. Most little black girls wanted to be the Yellow Ranger because Ayesha-the only black girl power ranger- was the yellow ranger. But if you know anything about Second Grader me, then you know that I did not pick my favorite ranger based on the color of her skin or even the content of her character. I picked my favorite Ranger based on the color of her uniform, pink. I effing love pink, and I was a Kimberly fan. Kimberly was Tommy's girlfriend. Therefore, second-grade me reasoned that I needed a boyfriend. ENTER Thomas. My Dad was in the military, so all of the schools I went to had a lot of kids coming and leaving during the school year. Thomas had just moved from Maryland and his mother was stationed at the same base as my Dad. Aside from that, he was an avid Power Rangers fan, and consented to be in a relationship with me. I like to think that he was my first real boyfriend and also the best. All we did was play power rangers and four square together. I hate to say it, but all of my relationships have failed to live up to my relationship with Thomas. If I’d known in 2nd grade that finding a steady love interest was so hard, I would have never let dear old Thomas go. I also would have demanded that the military reassign my family wherever Thomas’ family went so that we could be an item forever and ever. Middle School-10 Second Ty His name was Ty, and that name sounded like it should have been the 6th member of N Sync. He was tall, smart, had an ear piercing, and wore jnco jeans. Honestly, it was an honor to be invited to date him. I can’t believe that he thought that I was good enough to be seen walking next to him. For 10 Seconds, I was the coolest girl in Middle School. Then, he broke up with me. He told me that he wanted to try being single for awhile. I told him that we’d only been dating for 10 seconds. I’d like to say that I didn’t beg him not to walk out of my life, but I did. I totally begged. I freaking pleaded. In the end, I was left standing outside of my house in Nerdville with nothing but a broken heart and a backpack full of Harry Potter books. It’s OK, Ty is now gay. I mean gay gay. I mean he’s a woman, seriously. High School. In High School, I’d pretty much accepted my lot in school. I was destined to be the cute but lovable nerd-girl. My Dad had taken great lengths to keep me concentrated on school and out of harms way by placing me in an All-girls Catholic School. I was happy. Life was good. Then my Mom and Dad had a little conversation (about how I wasn’t living in the “real world”), and I was transferred to public school. BOYS. After not knowing any boys for 2 years, seeing boys in my day-to-day life was a culture shock. They did boyish things. They drew dirty pictures on the chalkboard. One of them tried to set me on fire. I was miserable. Well, I was miserable until Webmasters club. In 11th grade I’d made it my life’s mission to be an N Sync/ Harry Potter website designer, and Webmasters club was the only place that I could fulfill this life-long dream using high-speed internet. ENTER RICK (It was like Harry Potter, when Cho Chang agreed to go out with Harry. It was like Twilight when Edward sat next to Bella during Biology. It was like Fifty Shades when Anna went to Interview Christian. It was like Peeta getting chosen for the Hunger Games ) He was a nerd! Just as nerdy as me! He was beautiful! Then, I made the ultimate mistake of asking my Dad if I could go to the mall with him. It was only a mistake because my dad told my mom, who told my grandmother, who told my aunt ,who told my older cousin, who then told everyone else. By the time Prom rolled around, everyone was looking at me with that expectant smile, and saying things like, “so when are you going to bring Rick around?” It was creepy. Apparently, Rick’s family was doing the same thing. So, Rick decided to take the pressure off of us and get his tongue pierced. It was weird. It was disgusting. What if it got infected? What if it spread its infection in my mouth? We were done. COLLEGE I was too busy having fun and partying to enter into any serious relationships. I don’t regret it. Every girl needs to sew her wild oats. NOW I’m in a relationship with my television, my job, and Bruno Mars. There's been a few notable boys who I'd rather leave buried with the carton of ice cream and plate of brownies I ate mourning them. I’m still searching for the perfect guy, but I’m not in a rush. I’m looking for a guy who is beautiful, smart, will up my cool factor, and is willing to re-enact power rangers at anytime and at any place. Or Ryan Gosling’s metro-sexual Doppelganger. Or Ryan Gosling’s-lost at birth-metro-sexual twin Or Ryan Gosling Or An N Sync Member Or Gerard Butler Or Damon from Vampire Diaries Or A child actor who was once ugly and baby faced but is now totes RAWR! Or Any man who will be president in the future As you can see I'm not picky. |
| What do you think about? I believe a normal person thinks like this: If A then B, if B then C, and if C then D. I think like this: If A then maybe B, but potentially C, and in rare cases D. Not to exclude D, as D is a superior letter that starts some of my favorite words like delectable, dexterous, derelict, and dichotomous. In fact now that I think about it, fuck A, B, and C, there’s nothing like D. Why does English have to complicate everything? AND WHY IN THE HELL does c make two sounds? I need to voice my complaints to someone. Damnit, I need to be heard! Cavity, Cavity, you’re over-thinking this little metaphor. It’s been a few hours. Stop hitting the delete key. You’re starting to act like a crazy person, again. I AM NOT A CRAZY PERSON. I’m just a person committed to limiting the barriers to participation in English. Damnit Cavity, people don’t want to read about your little life problems! SHUT THE HELL UP, BRAIN! I’m on a tailspin. I need to research the writers of the American Style Guide. The gurus of English? YES! Now that I think about it you may continue with your crazy off-topic ramble, because I’ve always wanted to voice my opinion on commas. Commas have too many uses to be effective. And semi-colons? The lay person doesn’t understand them. WOAH, you understand my plight. You’re amazing! Hey, if you’re not doing anything later want to go look at angry cat memes together? Hell yes! |
| Profound Thoughts or Regurgitated Quotes? Yep, this is just my
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness….” There are some men who are afforded the opportunity to frame the Declaration of Independence and write idealistic phrases, “that all men are created equal”, without understanding what it means to be equal.I find it hard to believe that they could possibly understand what it meant to be born into a life of servitude. Slaves were tilling the fields and women folk weren't treated equal to men. When I think about how slaves and women were treated during the time of the Declaration, I doubt that Jefferson REALLY considered what it meant to say, “that all men are created equal.” While these truths may seem “self-evident." Not ALL men are created equal. Not ALL men are afforded the same opportunities. If this was so, why are homosexuals fighting for the right to marry? Why did it take nearly 200 years for African Americans to be afforded equal rights as Whites? And WHY did Cousin Oliver sink the Brady Bunch? Not everyone fits in. Not everyone can be Caesar even though, “Brutus is just as cute as Caesar. Brutus is just as smart as Caesar. People totally like Brutus just as much as they like Caesar!” 1 I guess what I’m trying to say is that not everyone is born equal, and it’s cute that Thomas Jefferson could think about equality from Monticello while his slaves were busy tilling his fields and serving him a glass of lemonade so he could write about equality in peace. Saying that all men are created equal is like saying that all cookies are created equal. The truth is that chocolate chip cookies are AWESOME, but when put next to a batch of oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip cookies don’t even have the slightest chance of equal survival. Footnotes |
| Prompt: Hello Bloggers Sorry for the delay in getting this out. I haven't been very motivated to write blog entries lately, share your power of positive suggestion and blog about , "What motivates me to write blog entries?" What motivates Brother Nature   to write blog entries?Dear Brother, I demand that you write more blog entries!!! I need to take a short vacation into your mind, and the only way that I can do that is if you keep an active BLOG! I mean, what am I going to do when I'm having a bad day, and can't mosey on over to your blog and read about you and your life and your wife. What am I going to do when I can't obsessively stalk you through accessible means like writing.com? I may be forced to find out where you live so I can cut off a lock of your hair and pretend for a moment that my name is Joel aka Brother Nature. While I'm at it, I'll do brother naturish things like traipse through the wilds, and remember the days of my youth--when Sundays meant rest, the youngins spoke in english, and textin'-what the hell is that? . WHHHHYYYYYYYY-uh! WHHHHYYYYYY would you be unmotivated to blog? Shouldn't I be motivation enough! ME, the reader/audience! Don't you care about me? Joel, I'm starting to feel unloved and insignificant. I think we both know how I get when I'm feeling unloved.That's right, I feel gassy. I don't know much about science, but my gaseous state cannot be good for the global warming and the Americas. Joel, YOU blog to protect the Americas and mother earth from your gaseous readership. Duh! Sincerely, Cavity |
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Independence is so important. There's no better feeling than knowing that you can do something for yourself without assistance.
