Snackie's World

Run With Me Through Rows Of Speeding Cars...

I can't believe that I'm about to launch one of my bitchier posts off by quoting something from a show called "The Pimp Chronicles" but there you have it.  I was watching this the other day and even though it was a lot of cussing and comedic delight, Katt Williams' words resonated:

You done got with a man and now you're talking about "You fucked up my self-esteem".  Bitch, it's called self-esteem!  It's esteem of your mother fuckin' self, bitch!  How the fuck could I fuck up how you feel about you, simple bitch?

So sure, you have to look past a ton of curse words but other than that, the message is quite simple.  Were we all perfectly right in the head, no one should be able to take away the love that we have for ourselves and make us doubt down to the core.  I know it's not a perfect world and that it doesn't always work out like that, but let me tell you what....we sure are quick to let someone else's words and actions dictate how the fuck we feel about ourselves.  We like to call that "letting them rent space in your head".

If you think I am judging you for being a "head" landlord then think again.  We all do it at times, no matter how hard we strive not to.  I am a perfect example.  Lately I swear to God that my life is like playing Frogger....I jump through a row of speeding cars, fending off the latest bullshit to fly my way only to face yet another row of what?  Speeding fucking cars!  And once I get to the other side and think that I have a breaher?  Yeah, not so much because it's time to come back and RE-HASH the same shit over and over and over again.  So you know what I decided to do?  I'm making a list...lots of people have made them lately on many different topics.  But mine?  Mine is called "The Laundry List" and it is a list of things that are bugging the crap out of me, seriously.

I Am The Mask You Wear....

I've been trying to find my words for a few days now.  There are a few subjects that I've wanted to bring up and discuss but how they all intermeshed and how I would brooch them without being bitchy was the real test.  Of course, giving them time and marinating on them was, as always, the best way.

You know, TypePad has installed some radical new features for us to use however never quite told us that they were there.  So when my blog automatically started separating my comments into pages and only showing wee little arrows at the bottom of each page to indicate that it did so, people starting freaking out.  Sure, a lot of people figured out there was a second page but most of us are just USED TO it being one page and not searching the fucking globe for our comments.  The fact that it appeared as if certain comments had just vanished instigated an email frenzy that I've not seen in some time.  A lot of the emails were of the "have I done something to upset you?" flavor rather than the "what the fuck is the problem with your ghetto blog?" flavor.

I find this to be an interesting anecdotal segue into what's been on my mind.....

I'm Just A PC Girl, Living In A High Tech Mac World....

I just want to start out by saying that I'm a lot more than an "average" PC user.  For the purpose of this post, this means that I know what to download and not to download.  I've never had Bonsai Buddy, Gator, Kazaa, or any other sneaky little program downloaded onto my PC.  I'm careful like that...seriously, it's harder to get into my box than it is to get out of jail.

Uhhhh, that sounded so wrong.

In any case, being the dutiful new employee that I am, I responded as told when asked to get an Hotmail account and download MSN Messenger, even though it pained me.  Now some of you that use MSN Messenger probably think I'm being an elitist bitch but no, that's not it at all....I hate chatting.  Seriously, you'll hardly ever catch me on chat because I'm too fidgety to sit still and hate trying to have more than 2 conversations at once (but just in case you want to try to make this chat-lationship work, my handle is hcarnes@live.com).  Something about that seems so unfair and uncool to me for some odd reason.  But for work, I did download it, not only on my new work PC but also at home, on my desktop PC because yanno....I work from home too.

Legalize Bitch Slapstitution....

One of my favorite times of day right now is mail time!  Like everyone else, I am loving the holiday cards, stickers, postcards, presents and even the regular old checks that come via Study McPosterson.  However....today I am fucktastically annoyed.  First of all,  I *so* know that it is asinine to move during the holidays and expect to get all of your mail on time, so I don't.  I'll be getting holiday cards well into February, but the baby Jesus loves the love all year long, doesn't he?  Secondly, I realize that me being pissed over the small thing I am about to tell you is really going overboard but I'm hot and tired from working my ass off unpacking and (RW, look away for a second) I got my period this morning so everything bugs.

Sizzle, who knows how much I PPH the Cupcake Royale, sent me a "Legalize Frostitution" sticker...but who the hell knows what else was in that enveliope!  No no, I am not saying that I expected more but hey, when you receive an envelope that has clearly been opened by someone else then stuck back in your mailbox, you tend to wonder what's what.  I emailed Sizzilicious and although she doesn't quite remember what was in there, she's sure it doesn't sound like her to only send a sticker.  Hell, even *I* have been getting mail from her long enough to know that!  So I can't be pissy with a 100% certainty but I tell you what....my suspicion is the tops, Pop.

Okay I'm really not that pissed about *that*.  I'm unpacking books and DVDs today and putting together bookshelves irritates me when those damn metal pegs are too small for the overly used holes.  It's like putting a small cock inside of the village whore's hoo-ding.  Gappity gap gap.  Ahem.  Oh and then there's that thing where I have to organize my DVDs alphabetically and my books by type:  non-fiction, fiction, chick lit, self-help.

Okay okay, back to my happy place where I enjoy the Dale & Thomas popcorn sampler that was given to us by friends of Shawn yesterday.  I don't even care that it's one of Hoe-prah's favorite things!

"C" Is For Cussing Kisses,
Me

These Not-So-Tender Moments.....

Lately I've been able to do a whole lot of reading and listening rather than talking.  It's great for observational posts that are short and don't make the baby Jesus cry about my arm.  One thing that seems to be recurring theme are people excusing others for their actions:

"Oh sure, she's completely passive-aggressive almost all of the time but I don't think she knows she's being that way."

Bullshit.  She knows.

Now she may not be able to control her damned self if that's the way she's been living her life thus far, but she definitely knows that she is doing it.  Being passive-aggressive is a form of manipulation and one of the manipulators best defenses (or so they think) is to act surprised at such an accusation then deny, deny, deny!  The thing I vehemently dislike about passive-aggressiveness is how it makes "the defendant" feel.  It's almost like you feel guilty and angry at the same time, plus you are left wondering what the hell happened once you've had time to think.

It's sort of like when someone says something asinine then wants to walk away.  He or she may ask you a question that was definitely meant as a dig, but when asked what the hell was meant by that, the antagonizer simply says that "they don't want to have this argument right now" before their meeting, show, date, blah blah.  How do you say something that you know will get a reaction out of someone else then expect to walk away from that without a discussion?  That type of situation leaves someone not only feeling the same things mentioned above, but also very hurt and defensive with nowhere to actually put those feelings. 

I know some of this crap is caused by people speaking without thinking.  I don't judge bluritis, because I'm a member of Blurters Anonymous myself.  It's when you can't just own up to having that and start blaming anything and anyone else....then I take issue.

Thoughts To Ponder Kisses,
Me

(this only took about a half an hour to write with one hand....don't expect too many more though, LOL)

Here's A Thought.....

Assume.

A-S-S-U-M-E.

Assume.

Whatever Kisses,
Me

Day Four: Happy November!

Ahhh November....I've always liked this month, mostly because it starts out with my birthday and ends with gorging on dead bird laced with processed berries in sauce.  Yanno, other things happen in November like Election Day, leaves falling from the trees and the annual Pilgrims vs. Indians pageant at your kid's school.  These things have been set in stone for as long as I've lived and they are the tradition of November.

However now...we have new traditions.  Just in case you are not busy enough with working, exercising, watching teevee, family life, personal stuff, light blogging, twittering, FaceBooking, projects and shopping for Christmas, you can sign up to take part in NaNoWriMo, NaBloPoMo, HotDogLowFlow, or BlowPopProHo.  Okay so some of those are made up, but still....you're totally picking up what I'm putting down, right?  I know that NaBloPoMo goes hand in hand with blogging, but my God...the pressure.  When I force myself to write every day, more crap comes out of my mind than not...yanno, sort of like this week.

All of this has got me thinking about technology and a subject I wanted to talk about last month but never got around to.  There are so many vices and devices available on the Wide Wide World of Web these days that I feel I never have to leave the comfort of a whirring gadget in order to have full on relationships with my friends.  The same people that are reading my blog and vice versa?  Yeah, we're friends on Face Book, MySpace, Flickr, Twitter and then on top of that, some of us email and text each other on a regular basis.  We're all up in each others hoobastank as much as can be without physically sitting in a room and talking to each other.  Awhile back, I thought this was kind of a depressing thing in a way...still do.  But realistically, I now realize that sometimes this technology is the only way that I can keep up with some of my favorite people since we live so far away from each other. 

The One In Which I "Wax Crotchety"....

(written last night at midnight)

I hate my neighbors with a passion and that says a LOT considering the fact that I don't believe in hating people.  I'm sure they are all wonderful in their own way individually but get them together and they are like Satan's Henchmen, hellbent on pissing off those of us dainty flowers that normally have no snark whatsoever...ahem.  But seriously, these people are the most inconsiderate bunch of yokels that I have ever seen, especially when it comes to making their kids put a sock in it. 

Here's what happened....

Last night we had a blackout about an hour after I got home from work.  At first I was a little wee bit whiny and pissy because I had made myself this deal, you see.  I had promised myself to stay off line all night in order to get some other things done, clear of mucho Tivo and also to give my poor tendinitis wrist a break.  But I quickly recovered when I thought that it probably would not last long and that I could find ways to amuse myself in the dark...mew chicka mew mew.  Seriously though, I lit a bunch of candles all over the house, cleaned the kitchen and bedrooms by candlelight, grabbed a glass of wine and took a hot candlelit bath, then laid down on the bed to read a book and just relax.  Somehow I forgot to read as I became so relaxed just laying there with no sounds and the ability to hear my own thoughts.  I found my mind wandering to so many different places, some of them dark and icky but mostly not....I imagined things that could be, thought of people and giggled and rememberances of things said, planned a week worth of outfits in my head and even pondered whether or not I should "turn off" and enjoy the silence more often.

The Demon Realtor Of Fleet Street (TVMA-LV)!

Well shoot, I've been alluding to this stupid ass realtor lady for two posts now so I may as well post this and get it all out of my system!  I have to warn you that I am so flipping pissed that I may not be able to control the obscenities that come out of my mouth from this point on.  In fact, I'll just say it now....this woman is a Snatch-Sicle Douchey McDouchebag Whore and I am definitely putting her on notice!

Some of you may recall the event that started this all back in August, when our landlord suddenly decided that he was going to sell the place after offering an extended lease just one month earlier.  You know, that turned out to be "whatever" anyway because of the increased chaos in my personal life, nobody wants to be here past Thanksgiving anyway.  With that said, this decision to sell and have Cunty McWhoreface (henceforth to be dubbed "CM" for short) put her sign on the lawn and her lockbox on the front door started in AUGUST.  By the way, for those not in the mood to do that math, that is three fucking months before the set end of our lease. 

In any case at the time of this upsetting news, Kyra pointed me to a site that really detailed California Tenant Laws and from there I researched more.  It turns out that we in no way are obligated to allow anyone in to this house while we still live here and pay rent.  In fact, when CM put the lock box on the door, I went ballistic because I've heard horror stories of people just coming in while others are sleeping, showering, blahsy blah.  I called her back then and she snidely asked me to see things from her side, since it is a terrible market and I made her a deal.  The deal was that she had to put an addendum on the MLS stating that we require 24 hour notice to show the place and also require an appointment *time* to be scheduled as well.  In the beginning it seemed to be working out okay and only maybe 2-3 realtors a week were stopping by.

The Beautiful Ones Always Smash The Pictures

Have you ever been just absolutely miserable even though you don't want to be?  Every fiber in my secret little Pollyanna soul really does scream that everything is going to be better and that if I just keep on moving and smiling, I will be okay.  The damned thing is that I believe it too.  However, there's one thing that can bring me to a halt and make everything tainted and washed in black....insomnia of the most heinous kind!

Everyone experiences insomnia a bit differently....some people get physically ill and can't function the next day.  Others seem to deal with it quite fine, living the day-to-day as if they didn't just wake up at 4am again.  And then, there are those of us in between...those of us who have it come and go so much that neither of those extremes is plausible.  Were the "not sleeping" bullshit a regular thing for me, like it used to be, I'd get used to it and adjust my life accordingly but as it stands now, it comes and goes every 4 months or so.  I have not had a decent night's sleep since last Friday night....not even when I was drunk off of my ass, thanks.  The last two nights however have been awful....I've been unable to sleep until midnight, waking up at 4am and any sleep in between has been peppered with weird dreams accompanied by tossing and turning.  Oh woe is me, I am such the total Drama Queen today.

The problem with not having much sleep is that things start to happen to my body.  First of all, since I have anxiety disorder (which is normally totally treated and fine, btw), I start to get really paranoid and nervous about things.  Don't worry, I won't be on a lawn near you asking why you don't like me anytime soon....I still have my sense of detached decorum.  My actions are fully manageable and my fake niceties are fully intact but my head is racing with way too many thoughts at one time and I tense up then make myself even more incapable of sleep.  I don't even know what the hell I got bunged up about last night but let's just guess that it was the same that it has been all week....work.  Yeah, I can't talk about that here but sufficed to say that there is a huge disconnect between my personality and the personalities that I work with so it makes it odd every day for me, but whatevah. 

The other thing that I am going through is not being able to eat, which you would think would thrill me to no end, right?  Ehhh, I kinda like to make the decisions on whether or not I am going to be gagging down my meals, yanno?  Hey, I've lost 5 pounds in 3 days so maybe I should just continue to stay awake forever ;).

Anyway back to being jumpy...I just took off my glasses to rub my eyes and saw a freaky male shadow on the wall.  I nearly jumped out of my seat and attempted to hit it with my fabulous arsenal of Swingline Staplers.  When I put my glasses back on so that I could see to kick much ass, I realized that it was the desk lamp sitting behind my Homer Simpson Bobblehead casing a bouncy shadow and not, as I had suspected, the ghost of Alfred Hitchcock coming to kill me.  Geez, nobody ever tries to stalk or kill me anymore...what's a girl to do?

Deluded Demented Dysfunctional Kisses,
Me

Mrs. Carnes Goes To Tustin.....

It’s 2:30 pm on a Friday afternoon and I just grabbed myself a bag of Skittles out of the machine down the hallway.  Well technically I paid for it before I grabbed it, but same concept, yanno?  I’ve been trying really hard not to eat unnecessary crap food for a little while now but after the day I have already “survived”, I really need to taste the rainbow.

While this is not the worst day I’ve ever had, it’s up there.  First of all, I came home to about five voicemail messages last night from real estate agents wanting to show our house.  Rather than have them bug us on the weekend, I told them all to come by today, which meant one thing….”shit, must clean house now”.  There are some things that I failed to do because I was busy (yanno, watching "The Biggest Loser" and such) so this morning I had to do them before I left the house.  Normally that would not be a big deal but uh, I had to be in court at seven-freaking-thirty am!  So yeah, getting up at 5:15 in the morning is NOT a good way to start the day, especially when the coffee pot breaks and you have to drink instant Medaglia D’Oro.

Mmmm, I Smell Bacon!

I've never really taken a stand against the man...you know, said things like "f*** the police" and whatnot.  In fact, I don't usually call them pigs or talk about their yummy odoriferous baconosity at all.  On the flip side, it's not like I am deluded into thinking they're all walking around like Mayberry's finest, ready to find Opie's lost bike and shit.  You'd think I'd be all pro-law enforcement considering the fact that my cousin is a CHP officer but hey, whatever.

I've come across some really great police officers in the city I live in now.  It keeps changing every year, but it remains one of the Top 20 Safest Cities in the Nation, so they have to be doing something right.  And the crazy thing is that the police here are actually quite fun, friendly and cool.  I cannot even tell you how many times I've had good encounters with the fine folk from my local police department.  One time I left my sunglasses on the counter at a restaurant and the lady officer ran all the way out to my car to give them to me.  Another time, I tripped and fell in the parking lot of the Chevron (I'm all class) and a male officer ran to help me up, even though I was not hurt.  Protect and serve....seems like they are doing their jobs.

However, today for the first time in my life, I found myself calling an officer an asshole bastard whenever he turned his head the other way and I was seriously tempted to flip him off.  I hate those kind of cops who think that their badge gives them so much power that they can be cocky assholes who walk all over the "good people" instead of focusing all that dick measuring for the criminals. Today I had to drop my coworker off in the "swats" of one of the only ghetto cities of The OC.  As I pulled up to a stop sign, there were four cops parked outside of this one house, apparently ready to leave their call.  The officer in the passenger seat put his arm up and waived it and I swear it was the "go ahead" sign, but apparently he was telling me to wait, even though I was like right by the front of his car.  So when I went by, he put his hands up and did that guy "what up, bitch?" type movement.  Cause it was a cop and ONLY cause it was a cop, I rolled down my window and said, "sorry, I misunderstood!".  He heard me and yet continued to throw his hands up and say "WTF" and mumble "stupid bitch" to his partner....warning, I have bat ears.  So they flipped a bitch behind me and I swore I was getting pulled over for sure...yet nope.  When they pulled up next to me again at the stop sign where I was turning right, he looked at me AGAIN and did the same hand gestures and again with the name calling.  So I quickly pulled over and typed his car number into my Treo with every intention of reporting him.

I know that I should be thankful that I did not get a ticket for uhhh....misunderstanding an officer's hand gesture, should there actually be a ticket for that.  However, I think I'd almost have preferred the 25 dollar ticket to being treated like a stupid cunt bitch by an officer, sworn to protect and serve.  If I did something wrong, let's get that ticket rolling but don't you dare keep flipping me hand gestures and muttering mean things about me under your breath.  Your badge gives you no right to act that way, Vick Mackey.  From now on, I am not leaving my lovely South OC city to go into that other town, nuh uh!

Clancy Wiggum Kisses,
Me

If I Built This Fortress Around Your Heart.....

There's a street that I frequent (in a car, not in four-inch spiked pumps) on my way to and from work.  I like to take the back roads and short-cuts rather than the freeway because it's often faster that way here in Southern California.  Today was no exception, other than the fact that I needed to leave work a bit early to get to my food poisoning follow-up appointment with my fabulous doctor.  Needless to say, I was in a bit of a hurry!

Anyway, back to this street....it's not an extremely busy street but it's one that backs up to a supermarket and often has foot traffic, but generally at the crosswalk.  The other thing about it is that it's sort of a "loop" and once you're in it, you don't have many choices to get out of it until you hit the next major intersection.  It's two lanes each way and isn't so busy that you'd be playing Frogger if you wanted to cross in the middle, but busy enough that my fat ass wouldn't risk it.

So imagine my surprise when the man next to me started to come to a screeching halt while I simultaneously noticed a man sauntering across the middle of the road, nowhere near the crosswalk, groceries in tow.  After the initial shock of almost running someone over left my body, I started to size up the mystery walker....he was Hispanic, about 5"10', 375 pounds, and walking very slowly as if he did not care that we were waiting on him.   He looked to be struggling with his bag and the walking and I lamely assumed that it was because he was overweight.  Suddenly, his bag broke and food was rolling all over the road.  As the man walking bent down to pick it up, I noticed something new....he had Down's Syndrome (at least I think that's what it is) and was moving slowly because of that.

The man next to me in his big old SUV starting cursing at the guy and waving his hands all around, like the usual VIPs in this county that think their destination is the end-all, be-all.  Some of the canned goods started rolling our way, so I opened my car door to catch it with my hand.  Well crap, at that point in time I had to get out of my car to help the guy or at least bring him back his can of baked beans that I had saved from sudden death.  So my fat ass is out there in 85 degree asphalt-y atmospheric conditions, in black slacks and 3-inch work pumps, running a can of baked beans back to its rightful owner then giving him my cloth Trader Joe's bag so he could get his ass out of the middle of the road and back to saftey, groceries and all.  It wasn't magnanimously giving of me or anything; I could have sat there and cussed at him like jackass to my left or got out and made the process faster...we were stuck anyway.

When all was said and done, and the man in the street thanked me, his "pretty new friend", I walked back to my car.  The man in the fucking SUV rolled down the window and said, "the nerve of those people, huh?".  To which I replied by putting on my sunglasses, shaking my head, flipping him off, then getting back in my car and driving on past him.

Yes, the nerve of those people...in a mathematical world where the sum of "those" is equal to or less than "The SUV Jackasses of The OC".  They should make a calendar or something.

Pretending To Be A Bag Boy Kisses,
Me

Totally Semi-Related Aside:  Dave's coming to SoCal soon.  Foo may come to see me meet Dave too!  I predict much fun and merriment in my future...that will be all. 

The Princess And The Pea...Up Her Butt!!!!

Yay, my blog....mwah mwah, I am so happy to see you blog and friends!  Yanno, someone emailed me yesterday and said, "The guest posts are great but I miss seeing YOU on your blog."  Me too, my friend, me too. So before I go on, please give a hand to all of my phenomenal guest-posting studs and studettes, as they truly rocked this bitch!

Anyway, a lot has been going on and there is so much that I could tell you about that may amuse you or make you cry but I am going to save the real inner turmoil stories for later as I have a pressing matter to discuss....and I need your opinions in this heaaa' matter.  It figures I'd come back full-snark ahead!

We rent the townhouse that we live in now and moved in the weekend after Thanksgiving on a one-year lease.  The last time Shawn talked to our landlord about ohh....just two weeks ago, he asked if we'd like to go month to month starting in November in case he decided to put the place on the market.  Of course we said sure cause no one wants to move over the holidays, like our tard-o asses did last year.  So then suddenly last week, we get this rambling voice mail from this chatty-assed real estate agent (who we'll call 'Whorebot' from now on) stating that the landlord was going to go ahead and list the property so that he could hopefully sell it by the time we leave in November.  Whorebot promised that we'd all sit down and talk about what was reasonable for us as far as times to show the house, etc. 

Did I mention that we still live here and pay rent here?

It's Like "Highlights Magazine" All Over Again!

I don't mean to harp on this but it is bugging me!  After stating yesterday that someone was playing Fraudy McFrauderson on eBay, it happened two more times!  In fact, I had to remove the "Buy Now" feature from my listings.  Every time it was someone who was in the US Military and had some sort of relative in Nigeria...Nigeria!  One person even went to far as to try and convince me that they accidentally deleted their eBay account right after emailing me...until I informed him that I had two ohter people claiming the same story....funny that, I never heard from him again.

But "Jerry Adam" is a whole other story!  He's ready to step into his role as the EVP of McFrauderson Inc.  He went as far as to send the fake fraudalicious email (click pic to see it!), demanding the payment.  Like PayPal would demand a fucking payment. 

Does anyone else see how many things are WRONG with this email and do you have a  favorite part???

Needless to say I am so angry about this....but not for myself.  Do you know how many people out there don't know that this goes on and would probably send them their merchandise without even blinking?  Always always always go directly to PayPal...do not click on an email link!  That's my lesson for today.

Jerry Gets Poisoned Kisses,
Me

Mother McCrapper And Her Five Humpy Husbands!

I just made that up and I have no idea out of what sick corner of my psyche that was born!  Ugh, anyway....right now my life is in a state of utter chaos and turmoil, which some of you know about.  I'm not going to talk about the details here because they are very personal however I will say that I am knee-deep in anxiety medication and am making the best of a very icky situation.  With that said, I may not be as readily available much for the next week or two.  I won't even come here and announce an hiatus because every time I do that, something suddenly comes up and I feel like blogging again.  Soooo, let's just say that I may not post much and more importantly, I may not comment much.  Please do not feel offended if I don't comment every day like I usually do but I have a lot of real life stuff to take care of and fix right now so I am kinda scattered.  As a matter of fact, you'll note that my feed reader* is already filling up and I am not sure when I can totally catch up!  Anyway you know me...I can't just leave it at that...I have a few things to say!

"I Guess You Might Say He's Barking Up The Wrong Bush."

I hate running errands with anyone that I work for....there's that awkward chit chat that you really don't want to be having, the inevitable moment where you give up what YOU want so that they can "win" and mostly, the chance that they'll realize who you really are beneath that "work surface'".  While walking out of a store in San Diego today with my fifty-something, white, and over-privileged boss, we were bombarded by both a homeless man and a Republican petitioner.  I quickly gave the homeless man a dollar bill and shot down the petitioner by putting my hand up and saying, "no thanks".  My boss quizically looked at me and said:

"Wait - you're giving positive attention to that ragamuffin and negative attention to that hard working young man?"
"No - I am helping out someone who is down on his luck and not helping the Republicans pass a bill that will lengthen their terms in office."
"Well if we make the right political decisions, we can probably end homelessness.....eventually."
"Exactly.  That's why I am helping today."

I remember back in my late teens when I worked at a Burger King in "downtown" Modesto.  There was a man that stood outside every day begging for money and like many jaded asshole teenagers, I thought he would use it to buy booze or drugs.  But I started seeing him more and more around town and he was always buying a meal or coffee with his money.  I don't know what he did with ALL of it, but at least he was using some of it to eat.  One day, he came into BK when we were having that dollar Whopper special and ordered three of them.  I was behind the counter and treated him like any other customer, calling him "sir" and making sure he got impeccable customer service.  I remember getting reprimanded later for spending too much time catering to a "nobody".  That pissed me off.

Flash forward back to today...after leaving my boss at his car, I walked one section of the plaza over so that I could get something to eat.  As I approached the Arby's I noticed that same homeless dude standing outside, or rather getting pushed outside.  The manager was saying "shoo" (literally, people) and telling him that he had the right to refuse service to anyone.  Technically, he does but cut the crap...it was Arby's!  I asked the man if he was just outside of Home Depot earlier and he said yes then thanked me for my dollar.  Wow, he remembered my dollar?  Anyway....he told me that all he wanted was a roast beef sandwich and was tired of being invisible, even when he did have money.  In conversation, he called himself a nobody, worthy of "nothin".  I asked him what exactly he had wanted then told him I would order it for him.  He looked scared to give me the last of his money, as if I would take it and abscond with his Arby's.  Of course, I looked at him like he was crazy and told him it was my treat.  I bought it, he said thanks, life carried on as normal for everyone.

When I reached my car, I broke down and started to stream these huge crocodile tears.  I don't pretend to know the political ramifications of homelessness, nor do I pretend that every person that begs for money will use it for something good.  But I do know that something somewhere happened to that man and it could happen to any of us.  I also know that no one deserves to feel like they are nobody...just invisible and worthless.  If you could have seen the defeat in his eyes....just wow.

That Arby's Can Suck Me Kisses,
Me

By The Way, You Are SO Not Poking Me!

A lot of people that I know, myself included, are now way more into Facebook than MySpace.  Wait, correction.....I never really was *into* MySpace even though I've had an account there for almost a year.  For me, it was never about social networking as much as just getting a profile and letting it sit there just in case someone from my past wanted to find me.  By the way, that worked out pretty well for me when I got a chance to catch up with the dude that plucked my pretty cherry.  Ahem, anyway.....MySpace has always bugged the crap out of me because you get so many random "friend" requests from people looking to build their "friend numbers" to magnanimous proportions, not because they actually want to get to know you.  Hrm, not that I would want to get to know them anyway but still.

So I joined Facebook like many of my swank blogging buddies.  It's nice in the sense nobody has even thought to add me to their Facebook Friends unless...gasp...they are a friend!  It's also more fun what with cheesy gifts, super poking, spreading peanut butter on people, rating movies and many many more widgety type applications to add to your profile.  In fact, I pretty much do any "social networking" there and don't even log into MySpace unless someone sends me a message or what have you.

You Ain't Got To Lieeeee, Craig!*

Ahhhh honesty, the other white meat.  As you know, I have been having a serious crisis of blog-faith and spent a little time last night examining why I blog, who I blog for and what I really want with regard to comments.  Oh don't you look at me like that.....sometimes even you care about how many people are commenting, especially when you feel that what you have to say is super-dee-duper important.  I think it's human nature to care about these things every once in a great while. 

Last night I realized that most days I completely blog for me, by me.  I just say what is in my heart and on my mind, without caring about the consequences.  If someone wants to come and get pissy with me for being who I am well then....let them be pissy.  But I have to be honest and say that there are other days that I specifically gear my blog posts to what I think my readers will like.  I know that it is sick and demented but there is a huge part of me that caters to my different crowds of friends on different days.  At times, I honestly catch myself comparing my two different reader bases and can pinpoint who will or will not have a comment for my post.  How fucking sick and twisted is that?  It's usually the day after one of those posts that I feel like a dirty dirty girl and try to absolve that by getting all deep again.  Lately, however.....I seriously have been more like "fuck it......if you don't like it, stop commenting about how much you did not like it and move the hell on".  Oh yeah, I can get feisty.

So I ask you to honestly answer the questions I put before you and in case my rambling made you forget, they are:  why do you blog?  do you ALWAYS blog for yourself?  and do you truly NEVER care about how many comments you get?  BE HONEST CAUSE I SHO NUFF WAS!

TUA: (sorta)  Did you know that there are often codes in my "kisses" that I know certain people will get?  Uh huh....the more you know.

Peanut Butter Kisses,
Me

*I really will give it up to anyone who knows that quote!

J-J-J-Juicy

I'm a little horrified by the fact that Tuesday night was the second night in a row that I either talked or read about juicy asses, so to speak.  By now, I am sure a lot of you have heard about the miracle weight-loss pill called Alli, which is falling off of the shelves at a much too rapid rate.  According to their website, this pill absorbs a certain amount of the fat that you eat (about a quarter) which apparently makes it so much easier to be skinny!  I'm not going into the science of how all of this supposedly works because you can study the website if you want to know.  What I am more concerned with is the absolute fucktardation that goes along with this product. 

There are many reasons that I am not sure that I like this pill.  Mostly, I don't know if I want something messing with the enzymes that break down my fat.  Moreover, I don't exactly want to see "something that looks like the oily residue on top of pizza" floating around in my toilet after I go.  But most of all, I don't know about you but I'm not really on board with the whole anal leakage issue.  Yes, you heard me...anal leakage.  To quote the manufacturer, and I shit you negative (heh):

"Prolonged use of Alli can result in diarrhea, uncontrollable bowel movements and gas with an oily discharge. It's probably a smart idea to wear dark pants, and bring a change of clothes with you to work."

In These Small Hours.....

People like to complain, don't they?  Oh, I'm not above it...it's just that we've become so free with our words that we forget the whole rule of "if you don't have anything nice to say....".  Someone once told me that because I blog, I open myself up to be criticized and ridiculed.  I agreed that there was a high level of truth to that assessment however at the same time, that did not make it right.  We tell bloggers not to whine when they get flamed because they are posting on a public forum for all to read and see, right?  We act as if everyone that feels hurt by negative comments needs to suck it up and get over it.  We call this "being real" and yet somewhere kindness gets ripped out from that reality and we find justification for assholes worldwide.

Because hey, you asked for it...it's the Internet.

I'm honestly one of the most real people you will ever meet.  I don't pretend to be something that I'm not and I probably go too far by saying things that definitely embarrass me...months later, by the way.  Yet at the same time, in every moment of every word that I've recently wanted to take back, none of them were cruel.  Never once did I have to say, "God I really wish that I hadn't been harsh enough to make so-and-so cry!".  I try not to put people down as much as possible and by the way, I don't even tell off men in yogurt shops that drive me nuts*!  I can be bluntly honest but only if it means that you're not going to be hurt in the process.   

Why do we allow "being real" to be the same as "being a total fuckwad"?.  I'm tired of seeing it justified, to be quite honest.  My friend Cole always mocks the ladies at his work: 

"Hilary, these women at the office follow up everything with 'bless your little heart'.  It's like they can say, 'well aren't you looking like crap today, bless your little heart"...and that makes it okay."

Online, people say asshole-ish things then follow them up with a winky face.  It's all the same really....either way it comes out, people are justifying their crap and I am seriously not taking it anymore.  I know, I know....half of you probably wonder why the hell I am so mad and what happened.  Quite honestly, it's a culmination of things I have seen lately that just have made me start to simmer.  And because I like to simmer, but not boil...I am getting it out here and now in the hope that someone somewhere will agree with me.

But with my luck this week, I'll get super flamed ;).

Stolichnaya Kisses,
Me

*Foo is the only one who got that right, btw!

Code Bitch

Today a friend said to me, "God you confuse me so much, Hilary.  Half of the time, I can't decide whether you are a super sweetie or a super snatchie".  Apparently going off on another friend while in a PMS induced fit doesn't allow me to stay in that "sweetie" category full-time.  Why is that, though?  Why can't a woman stand up for herself without being a "bitch" or a "snatch".  Or better yet, why can't a woman stand up for anyone else without being asked if it is "that time of the month"?  Hey, granted it was true this time but still.....even nice people are allowed to get upset, right?

Here's what happened.  We hired a very voluptuous girl (not that there's anything wrong with that) to be our Administrative Assistant.  She's a really nice, intelligent and hard-working assistant who totally makes me laugh.  Yes, she is probably around 350 pounds and seems to have health issues because of that but I think the way to help her is to listen and talk to her, not berate her....silly me.