Pet peeve # 2

Every morning while driving to work I can't help but notice the alarming amount of people who are talking on their cell phones. My surprise doesn't come from the fact that they are talking on their cell phones while driving, but the fact that it is seven in the morning and they are talking on their cell phones while driving. I can tell that their conversations are casual because I catch a glimpse of the expressions they wear on their faces as I try to avoid their erratic driving. If they were phoning in to work to report car trouble or whatever, they would look sort of nervous or distressed. These people I see each morning are laughing, smiling. Who are they talking to? I can think of no one, not even my favorite people, that I would like to talk to on the cell phone that early in morning. It's just strange I think.

hold your breath when you read this.

hey trish,
i'm glad you emailed. thank you for speaking your mind and thank you for your kind wishes. i do think about you a lot and, regardless of what you used to sometimes think, i did love you too. i am truly sorry that we could never and can never be something more than we were. so we resign to try and be something more than just acquaintances, i hope.

i have found someone wonderful and she makes me very happy. getting married in November. i hope you can find the same happiness too. that's cool you hung out with Bob, i was just down in SD and should come down often over the next few years. would you like me to give you a call sometime? take care of yourself, *crush*

Because that's just the kind of girl I am, that's why.

I just sent Crush an email congratulating him on his engagement. Maybe I was motivated by insane anger and jealousy, but I really don't care. Part of me hopes that he feels like a huge, herpe'd penis when he reads it, but another part of me hopes he won't care and won't respond with an apology so that I can continue to hate him forever.
Incidentally, the sermon at church last Sunday was on the subject of forgivness; how it is neccessary and how if we have not forgiveness in our hearts it only serves to harm us. It's true. Crush doesn't care that I can't forgive him for butchering my heart. Only I (and maybe you, Reader) care. Who benefits? Not me. I am not at that point where forgivness makes sense.
Personal note to Ben: Now I understand your need to call Pointy Face. At the same time, I wonder why we feel the need to ask them why they don't love us, when not loving us should be reason enough.

date and india

Tonight I had a date. It was my first "typical" date ever. I mean the guy literally stopped me on the street and gave me his number and asked me to call him. Since my mom is always telling me not to shut people out (she says I tend to be defensive and therefore may be missing out on terrific relationships with terrific people)I called him this afternoon and asked him to meet me for a drink.
We met at the Princess Pub in Little Italy; there was a marvelous man playing covers of Elton, Jeff Buckley, (what I think may have been)Billy Joel, etc. My date was not my type, however, he was not so "not my type" that I couldn't accept another date. I just can't see me marrying him. Why waste the time? I guess I have nothing better to do. Getting drunk with someone else is much more fun than getting drunk by yourself.
If the Navy has taught me anything, it has taught me that nothing is certain, not even love or fate. It has taught me to seize the moment, carpe diem. I cannot wait for love or fate to find me, I must find it. ...
This is my distress signal: rescue me, I am lost. be my friend, I am lonely. unfold me, I am small.

Noir 99% de Cacao

I bought this bar of chocolate for myself for Valentines day. It's entirely symbolic you know. I tasted it and it's bitter, like aspirin.

stop signs

Crush is engaged. I found out last night. Just over one year since our "relationship" ended and he's already engaged. I almost threw up when I found out.
It took me all night and all day to sink in. It hurts so bad because now I know I really meant nothing to him and that I wasted all this emotion for all these years on him. And then, of course, I think, "why didn't he want to marry me? What does this girl have that I don't?" And then the spiral of self doubt and loathing begins.

Pet peeve #1

Spitting. This morning I was walking down the breezeway in front of my office and I saw the most disgusting puddle of phlegm and saliva ever. I cannot stand when people spit. Why do they do it? That's why God created SWALLOWING, so you don't have to spit. It's like a little miracle that spit can go right back into the body - it doesn't need to be expelled from the body.
Typically, I see mostly men spit, but today I say an old lady spit out of her car window. How lady like. You know, my father coached a lot of sports teams and I can always feel some pride for the fact that he didn't let his guys spit. Now that's class. A sports team that doesn't spit. There just isn't a need. It's almost like me peeing wherever I wanted to. I could go on, but I won't.

Evil incarnate.

 
Cameron was a guy that I knew back in the Oregon days. I still remember how my cheeks would get hot from embarassment everytime I would walk into the 2nd Street Beanery with that day's sandwiches and he and Chandra would sing out, "Sandwich Girl Barbie." I wanted to die. I felt like I was in high school all over again. I think I even told my boss that I wouldn't deliver the sandwiches anymore because they called me "Sandwich Girl Barbie", that's how much it affected me.
Stupid Cameron. One time, Ashley spit on him and wanted to fight him because he was her boyfriend at the time, but really, he's gay (but that's not why she wanted to fight him, it was most probably because he's such a woman, and sometimes a bitch needs hittin') and he just layed down on the ground, crying. I didn't actually see this happen, but Ashley told me the story so now I feel like I can relay it.
Anyway, this picture was taken during my Polaroid phase and it came out exactly like this. Scary. 

Dear Anonymous,

Again, I'm sorry you are so upset about my experience in Pensacola. If I were you I wouldn't worry about what I have to say, after all, who am I? You like Pensacola and that's all that matters. Just as a point of interest for you, I am mostly negative about most things. It's just the way I am. I revel in seeing the glass as half empty because I loathe sickly sweet positivity. While I did enjoy the color of the sand on Gulf Breeze, it did not outweigh the fact the my hotel room smelled like Kentucky Fried Chicken (I started to refer to it as my "Kentucky Fried Room")or that there were more Waffle Houses in the whole town than I bet there are students at PJC. And another thing, the poverty was striking. I cannot imagine living in some of the houses that I saw there and thinking "this is alright, I'm living a great life". Not that material things are everything, and I understand that the entire South was devastated by hurricanes, etc., but when is enough enough? At what point do Pensacolans get out and move to a place where everything doesn't smell of mold or Kentucky Fried Chicken?
This is not a personal attack on you or Pensacola, it is merely an observation from one week I spent there. By the way, I have to go back in early March so stay tuned for more rantings.
p.s. Why have you taken the time to post all these comments but you stay anonymous? I hate that. Give us a little info on you beside your passion for PJC...

God! Get off my back

OK. There were tolerable parts of Pensacola. I did marvel at the sand's resemblance to snow. I did like the quaintness of the downtown area. It was nice to see the Gulf of Mexico. I also enjoyed knowing that the sea stories I have heard about fast food of the South were true. I ate at a Waffle House. I saw Whataburger and Chick-fil-a. It is amazing what a difference a coast makes.
I love California though. Just as all you Pensacolan's love Pensacola, I love California. What makes you love humidity makes me love the temperate climate of California. This is where I was born and raised so I love it. Who am I to knock what you love, right? If mold makes you happy, then what can I do about it?
I'm sorry if anyone was offended, but let's face it, grand generalizations are much more humorous than level-headed rationalism.

Pensacola: you can't even say it without a slack jaw.

Things I discovered during my trip to Pensacola, Florida:
1. My hair does not react well to humidity.
2. Pensacola is the poor man's Guam. If you've ever been to both, you know what I mean.
3. Pensacola bathrooms rarely provide toilet seat covers, however, if they do, they will not be in individual stalls, but provided near the hand-drying materials. You must know this and have the foresight to bring your own into the stall with you.
4. There are really places in the world where people say "y'all" and mean it; Pensacola is one of them.
5. "how's y'all's sweet tea?" is not an uncommon question in Pensacola.
6. Pensacola Junior College does exist, and people are so proud to have attended that they display stickers on their cars and various other belongings with the abbreviation: "PJC," seemingly disclaim their intelligence.
7. California really is the greatest state in the nation.



disclaimer: all comments about Pensacola and the South are not meant to hurt or offend people. While I am not sorry that you are hurt or offended, please know that I am sorry you are from Pensacola and the South. Sorry Jim. You're okay.