Anylies, the first day’s topic is:

“Something you hate about yourself.”

For the entire list, check this.

Alright, do you have all day?

I hate that I have a flair for the dramatic, when all I want is for a situation to calm down. I hate my really tiny pinky toenails. I hate that I have an abundance of body hair. I hate that I cannot say no. I hate that I can’t sing. I hate that no matter how hard I try, my stomach will never get flat. I hate that I deal with things through food and alcohol. I hate that I don’t have a good relationship with food. I hate that my hair turns brassy 3 weeks after I dye it. I hate that I have too round of a face. I hate that I suck at math. I hate that I fall in love so easily. I hate that I love being the center of attention, but talking in front of crowds scares me. I hate that I have taken advantage of my parents. I hate that I am not brave enough to really chase after my dreams. I hate that while I am great at friendships, I don’t seem to be very good at relationships. I hate that I don’t have the self confidence that I often pretend that I have. I hate that after 20 years of trying, I still can’t do an Italian accent. I hate that I’m forgetful. I hate that I really don’t love working out. I hate that I am sometimes too lazy to keep up friendships. I hate that I’m lazy. I hate that I get depressed. I hate that I get jealous. I hate that I don’t know who I am.

ahhhhhhhhh…..

That was easy.

If I had to pick one thing though, I’d say that I hate my lack of self control.

There isn’t one aspect of my life that I think has gone to an extreme, but overall- I just don’t have enough.

I’m not an alcoholic, but I drink too much. I like to drink, but I have realized over the last few years that I really need to slow down. I’m fine with that until I go out with my friends… and then, you know… once it hits your lips it just feels so good and… stuff.

I’m the same way with food. No matter how healthy I’ve gotten in my life it’s always been one extreme or the other. I either eat the whole buffet or I obsess about what goes through my body. I’ve overcome a lot when it comes to this, but I’m sure it is something that I’ll always struggle with.

Self control issues have really buried themselves into all parts of my life and my personality. I say things I know I shouldn’t say, I think things I shouldn’t think, and I have an extremely difficult time sticking to a structured plan. I think part of it has to do with ADD, but part of the problem lies deeper than that. It’s something I’ve always struggled with, even as a child.

I had this thing when I was little, where I my hands had to feel moist at all times. I would carry a “wet napkin” around with me and constantly squish it around in my hands. I washed my hands whenever I had the chance; and I would spend hours upon hours in the tub. My doctor said I had the worst case o OCD he had ever seen in a 4 year old. Some might say that I had an over achiever’s amount of self control, seeing the meticulous way that I kept myself clean, but even then I knew that I should have been able to refrain. I didn’t though.

Sometimes I think that my lack of self control is the root of most of my problems. My inability to say no; the fact that I fall in love easily; the fact that I can easily spend $100 bucks in an hour on itunes.

I’m hoping that it’s something that I’ll be able to solve like a mathematical equation. Now that I know the root of the problem I’ll be able to figure out what I need to do to fix it. It might take a lot of trial and error, but eventually, I’ll get there.

As I approached my 28th Birthday, there were several times when I caught myself thinking of all the things I have yet to accomplish. In fact, I spent the last few weeks laying in bed at night freaking out because I’m STILL not where I thought I would be in my life. I don’t have the ideal income, I’m not completely self reliant, I drink entirely too much, I still have a bit of an inferiority complex, I’ve quit going to the gym daily, and I’ve found that I occasionally still slip back into old bad habits.

Today, though, I made a decision. I’m not sure whether or not it’s because I’ve been clear headed and sober for 48 hours, but while I was on the treadmill today, thoughts began pouring out of my brain before the blaring sound of LCD Soundsystem on my ipod could block them out.

I’m ready to quit focusing on all that I haven’t achieved. I’m ready quit putting myself down for lapses in judgment that I’ve made in the past. I’m ready to stop dwelling on all of my forgotten goals, and I’m ready to stop pretending that I can just sit here idle and the world will magically fix my problems.It’s time to take action.

First I want to congratulate myself on what I have achieved in the past year. Twenty-seven may have not been the best year of my life, but I think I’ve endured a lot of changes, some of which have helped me become a stronger person.

During my 27th year I changed jobs. I changed houses, changed cities, and changed roommates. I watched my family fall apart and had to learn to play the role of an adult with my parents. I helped to bring my family back together. I let go of relationships and learned that I deserve respect from others and from myself. I’ve had arguments with close friends and am learning how to compromise. I became a blogger and realized though at times I may go a little too far, I enjoy putting myself out there and love to write like no one’s reading. I’ve made new friends and reconnected with old ones… and I’m starting to understand the importance of friendship and communication.

But if 27 was a year of change, I think 28 needs to be the year of growth. I’ve decided to set some goals for myself, but I’m also not going to be too hard on myself ifI don’t meet them all.. because after all, I’m not perfect.

I want to be more reliable, and in turn not take people for granted.

A close friend of mine told me the other day that in just the last two months she has noticed that I am not near as flaky as I used to be. She told me that she had started to hold me more accountable to things that I say I will do… and while on one hand that scares the bejeezus out of me… it also made me proud. I used to enjoy being the person that no one could count on. Not because I didn’t want people to like me, but because I was lazy and wanted to be able to flake out of situations without people being surprised. For a long time I didn’t mind when people said, “Oh that’s just Carissa.. she probably just forgot.” After years of this behavior I’m sure that people have just come to assume that I’ll be the one who forgets to RSVP to weddings. People have come to expect that I’ll be the one who will arrive 2 hours late to the party, if I even show at all. I don’t know how I went so long without caring that I was “that” girl. I have come to realize lately that I rather enjoy it when people can count on me. It makes people respect me, and want to behave the same way in return. I plan on making 28 the year that people can count on me for a change.

I want to choose my battles… but also my apologies.

I’m not one to argue much with friends. I don’t like confrontation, but even more than that- I’ve always had a difficult time standing up for myself. Over the last few years I feel that I’ve made some head way in that regard. I’ve begun to feel passionate about my stance on my ideas and care a little more about sticking up for them, and I believe that this is a positive change. However, I’ve gotten myself in a few situations where I’ve gotten involved and I probably shouldn’t have.. It’s good to share opinions, but just like momma always said (your mom, not mine) there are times when things are best left unsaid. Sometimes it’s best to just let things play out and I think it’s important for me to understand that time is the best cure for some circumstances.

That being said, I still feel that one of my greatest weaknesses is how quickly I am to take the blame…. to say “I’m sorry.” I’m not saying that I shouldn’t apologize when I am at fault, but I should definitely recognize the times when I’m not. I spend entirely too much time feeling guilty over situations that I have absolutely no control over. I can’t be there for everyone all the time. It’s not my fault if my friend’s argue with each other, or if their relationships don’t work out. I can’t feel bad about not being able to be at two places at once. I can sympathize with situations, but I can’t always do something about them, and I need to learn to be OK with that.

I want to fill my time with things that make me happy, find new hobbies and get more involved with old ones.

I have a lot of passion for a lot of different things, but I feel like lately I’ve let a lot of them fall by the wayside. I want to spend this year getting back involved in the things I love. I want to perform more, and not be afraid to try new things. I want to improve my writing, and do it more often. I want to take advantage of opportunities. I want to embrace my talents and start looking to using them for my future. I want to join my sister on a birding adventure, ride the bike that has been sitting in my garage for 4 months, and start swimming again. I want to take one of the art classes in my neighborhood that I’ve looked into 5 times but never thought I had the time for. I want to meet some of you people and have some good conversation. I JUST WANT TO DANCE!

I want to live a healthier lifestyle, both physically and mentally… have respect for myself and treat my body like the temple that it is. Basically I want to be the best me.

When people I know see that I’ve lost over a 100 lbs, a lot of people assume that I am the epitome of good health, that I must have have mastered self control.  This couldn’t be further from the truth. Sure there are days, even consecutive weeks when I will work out 5 days a week, watch my portions, and count calories. But there are also days where I am so terrified that I will gain weight, that I will consume almost nothing so that I can drink a bottle of wine at night. There are other days where I will completely jump the wagon and not even care that I just ate an entire weeks worth of Chinese food, but will stress about it for days after. I don’t want to be this person anymore. I know this is something that I’ll probably always struggle with, but I want to find some consistency. My healthiest months are the ones where I am the most happy, and I want to feel that way all the time. I don’t want to be the kind of person who is always concerned about my appearance, or that people are going to judge me…. and for the most part I’m not. I want to get to the point (and some days I’m there) where I’m not concerned if I gain a few lbs, where I know that I will still feel comfortable and confident in my body no matter what size I am.

I want to stop smoking, and I’m only 2 days in but I think I can do this. I want to cut down on drinking significantly, so that I can remember the good times… so that I can enjoy the quality of my life. I want to brush my teeth every night and go to sleep early enough so that every once in a while I can get up and enjoy a sunrise walk.

I want to be more confident in myself. Sometimes I think I was more confident when I was bigger, probably because I had to be. I want to be able to walk into a room and KNOW that I’m fabulous, even if other people may not agree.

I don’t want to be so insecure in my relationships. I want to trust. I want to have more faith in people and human kind as a whole. I want to have the same faith in myself as I think some people have in me.

I want to enjoy everyday of 28, and not get bogged down by the little things. I want to make the most of this wonderful, wonderful life.

Thanks for sticking with me through 27, and through this ridiculously sappy post. Even this girl gets sappy every once in a while. I LOVE YOUR FACE!

When I was a little kid, I followed a strict nightly ritual.

My parent’s house used to belong to my great grandparents, so it was quite old, even when I was a child. My sister and I shared a pink tiled bathroom that didn’t have a shower so we always took baths. After a dinner of either cheese and crackers or chicken nuggets, I would spend an hour or so soaking in the tub, playing with My Little Pony’s or pretending that I was a mermaid named Christina.

After my bath, I was allowed to watch about an hour of television. I was never much into cartoons, so I usually chose to watch something on Nick At Night. I would sit through “My Three Sons” or “Leave it to Beaver” if I had to, but my favorites were the ones that had a magical quality to them like “Bewitched,” (the fact that there were TWO Darrens always confused me) “I Dream of Jeannie,” or my all time favorite, “Mork and Mindy.”

After pleading “tennn morrree minutesss” at least 3 times, I would finally sulk my way to my bedroom, where I would put on a long nightgown and a pair of socks, one of which I would inevitably lose at some point in the night. I then went around to each of the dolls and toys around my room, kissed them, told them I loved them, then made sure that their faces were turned away from my bed so that they wouldn’t be able to see that I had chosen a different toy to sleep that night. I always slept with a brown teddy bear that my Grandma had given me, along with one other doll, which was usually my Mork doll. What can I say? I guess I had a thing for funny weird guys, even at an early age.

At this point, one of my parents would either read or tell me a story, but my dad always had the honor of tucking me in. We would start with a prayer. If I remember correctly it went something like, “Dear Jesus, Thank you soooooooooooooo  much for everything. I love you soooooooo much. Please take care of my mommy, my daddy, my sister, my grandaddy, my grandmommy, my other grandma, my other grandpa, my cousin Andi, my cousin James… ect ect ect. Thank you sooooooo much for food, school, dance lessons, Mork and Mindy, Teddy Ruxpin, my daddy, my mommy, my sister, my grandaddy… ect ect ect.” At the time I was actually quite sincere with my praying, but I also have to admit that I may have been using my time with Jesus to evade sleep just a little bit longer.

In the telling, this part gets a little weird, even by my standards. Not creepy weird, but weird as in my nightly tuck-in ritual was more of a secret handshake between my father and I than your standard “hug and kiss” tuck in. There were a few times I can remember when my dad was out of town and my mom would attempt to fill-in but it was never the same.

Big hug,  little hug. Big kiss on the left cheek, Little kiss on the left cheek. Big kiss on the right cheek, little kiss on the right cheek. Leg hug. Butterfly kiss with each eye, and then lastly, Eskimo kiss.

He would then prop the door open with a large rock (my dad is a geologist so we have them lying around everywhere) and that’s when my real night would begin.

I would lie in bed, still as a corpse for at least ten minutes, or until I heard my parent’s shut their bedroom door. I had learned early on to keep a heavy stock of flashlights that I found in various drawers around the house hidden in my room. I would tip-toe across the room, grab one, then run-tip-toe back to my bed where I would either play pretend that I was camping in the wilderness, or I would read. Even before I really even knew how to read, I would make up stories to go with the pictures, partially because I knew that my parents (the cool kids) did in their bed.

After about 30 minutes or so, my dad would come in and check on me. Usually I was able to turn off the light and feign sleep quickly enough, but quite often he caught me in the middle of an intense Indian invasion and I would get a stern talking to, and be put back in bed.

Once I was caught or had grown tired of playing pretend, I turned off the light and genuinely tried to sleep, but even then it wasn’t easy for me. Life got about 3,000 times more tricky once the lights went off, because that’s when the monsters came out. Duh. I had to roll my self up in my comforter because I lived in constant fear that a monster would eat off my limbs if I left them out in the open. Whenever I went to the bathroom, I had to do jump as far out from my bed as I could get so that the monster under there wouldn’t grab me and pull me under. And then once I got to the toilet there was no time for wiping or flushing, because of course there was also the monster that lived in the toilet that would pull me in if I sat there for too long. Then I would retreat back to bed where I would eventually fall asleep, and dreamt mostly of cock roaches or the Jabberwalky.

As I grew older, I started losing bits and pieces of my nightly ritual. Five minute showers replaced hour long baths.  I started watching Beverly Hills 90210 instead of Nick at Night. My dad stopped tucking me in, and goodnight stories and shared prayers were replaced by a quick “goodnight.” All the toys and dolls were boxed up and stored in the attic.  Long, frilly, nightgowns were replaced with shorts and a t-shirt. Instead of staying up with hidden flashlights, I stayed up on hidden phones that I plugged in and talked on for hours on after my parent’s went to sleep. The monsters were still there, but in the form of worries about school, boys, and whether or not I would get a part in the community theater play.

In more recent years, the last remnants of my nightly ritual have all but disappeared. I’ve spent many nights playing board games, writing in journals and blogs, watching movie marathons,  and drinking until late in the night. I usually sleep in a t shirt and whatever dirty pants are in eye sight when I crawl into my bed. I don’t say goodnight to anyone, except occasionally my roommate or to the internet via twitter. I’ve spent most of my nights making sure that I’m too tired to have a thought, much less worries by the time I hit the hay.

The last few weeks I’ve been trying to get back into a ritual. I’ve gotten back into working out. I’ve started reading and taking baths again. I’ve refrained from drinking during the week. I’ve started painting and watching movies on a nightly basis. But still they’re there. Those damn monsters. My fears of life, money, decisions, and what the next day… the next year… the next decade will bring. I’m not sure how the normal people fight these thoughts, but I’ve made it my goal to conquer them once and for all.

So bear with me if I’m a little moody for the next few weeks, as I am likely to get much sleep until I figure out how. But for now, I’m going to get into bed and read the bedtime stories that my grandfather has written out for me. I’ll probably share a few of those too.

Goodnight world. And Let’s just hope tonight it’s a dream about my boyfriend John Cusack and not one about my current financial state.

And only slightly related, a scene from one of my most favoriteist movies of all time… The Science of Sleep…

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As you may remember, I started a new job a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve abso-loving it so far. The people are great, I love how close it is to home, and my days FLY by! Seriously, before it felt like I was living in the land of 18 hour work days, and now I barely even have time to reach for a kleenex when I sneeze. I said barely people, gross as I may sometimes be- I do reach for a kleenex most of the time when I sneeze, especially when I’m in public. I even keep a bottle of hand sanitizer near-by for those close-nose-calls.

Although, speaking of sneezes, there was this one sneeze in my life that I am particularly proud of. We were at a house party so I made LA accompany me to the bathroom so we could have old-fashioned gal-potty time and discuss the actions of all the Douchengoyles at the party. (Julie mentioned it today, but just in case you missed it- “Douchengoyle” is basically the best word ever! It’s a combo of 2 of our favorite terms for ass-hat boys, “douchecanoe” and “gargoyle”.)

Anydouche, whenever I drink I usually have to sneeze a million times. Actually, I have to sneeze about 5 times after anytime I consume mostly ANYTHING. I have no idea why that is, but it’s quite annoying. I’m starting to think I have a wheat allergy, because it mostly happens when I drink beer or eat anything bready.

So I was sitting on the toilet (#1) when a giant sneeze started to arise from the deepest dark embarrassing parts of my body. I sneeze often, but I rarely have the types of sneezed that literally take over all of my abilities to do or think about anything else. This time though, the sneeze was all encompassing. I’m not sure if I had finished peeing at the point of combustion, but if I hadn’t it definitely shook my blatter clean. I’m fairly sure I didn’t even have to wipe for the next week. One hand was incapacitated with my drink, and the other with toilet paper, so I had no way to cover my mouth, or in this case, my nostrils. After all was said and done, I knew that a fair amount of mucus had made it’s way out of my body, I just couldn’t find where it landed. That is until LA reached for the doorknob to leave the bathroom. Ah yeah… it flew right across the room and landed perfectly square on the doorknob. I probably shouldn’t be so proud, but I kind of am, so judge if you want.

In other news, LA and I finally found some time to unpack a few boxes this afternoon, namely the ones with all of the books in them. It’s weird, for the last few weeks I have felt an emptiness inside of me that couldn’t put my finger on. It wasn’t until tonight when we finally got all of the books up on the shelves that we spent so many hours painting, that I finally realized that I was really missing my books. It’s been over 2 months since I’ve picked up a book to read, which is absolutely crazy for me… It’s not that even I miss reading all that much, although I suppose I do a bit, it’s more that books make me feel good, they make me feel comfortable and at home.

I grew up in a home where books were super important. There wasn’t a room in the house that didn’t have a bookshelf except for the bathrooms… though there were always plenty of books lying around in there as well. Both of my parents are huge readers, and there were weekends when I can remember everyone in my family sitting around in our perspective comfy-spaces with a good book. Even when it was time to eat, or if someone had to go to the bathroom, there was no need to put the book down, we would simply walk around with the book in hand, bumping into walls and each other as we tried to make our way around the house. I probably don’t own a book that isn’t stained with ketchup.

When I was a kid, my mom worked part time at a half-priced bookstore, so I spent much of my summer vacations and weekends there. It was the coolest little place. Each genre had it’s own room. The walls were covered with book and movie posters, and there was a huge section just for comics. I also spent a lot of time hanging out at the headshop next door, but that’s a whole nuther post.

So yeah… books make me feel good. Just having them around me. Plus there is something about owning a collection of anything, and books and movies are my two favorite things to collect. Whenever I get upset or anxious, I will spend hours reorganizing my books and DVDs.

But there is something else about books that I have missed, and since I’ve already gone to a TMI place tonight, I figure I’ll continue on with that.

JOHN CUSACK, If you’re reading… please stop now!

You see, I never really have problems with going… number 2. I keep quite a regular schedule, especially since I’ve changed my eating habits. But lately I feel that things have been a bit off… Then I remembered about the secret magical power that books have for me. I mean… All I have to do is look at a book and I feel like all my assues are solved. I literally cannot walk into a Barnes and Nobles without having to go-go. I have never been able to figure out if it’s the fact that I associate reading with going, or if it’s the smell of coffee… but it is the most natural laxative EVER!

Anyone else have this problem amazing miracle cure with books and bookstores?

And since we’re not on the subject, but ever so slightly related… I read about this really great product today. Whether you have a man or a dog, I think it could really be helpful…

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Writing out the title of this post just brought me back to those uber-dork days. Just thought I’d share that.

My dad’s family has a really amazing farm out near Crawford, TX. My dad recently started staying out there, and I have to tell ya’ll, despite the fact that there is no heat, there is a lot of poison ivy, and there is always the possibility of being eaten by wild hogs-I’m a little bit jealous.

The place is absolutely beautiful and some of my most favorite memories happened out there. There is a lot of land, your typical barn house,  and a little white house that is surrounded by a picket fence… and a creek called “Hog Creek” runs through the land and as a dam and everything. It’s perfect.

Da house

Hog Creek

My sweet grandparent's in front of my favorite tree in the world.

A Cow.

When I was young, my family would spend the weekends out there and my days would be spent catching trees fish, wading in the creek or a metal tub, or walking the grounds playing pretend or trying to get the horses to eat grass out of my hand. Even now my family goes out there quite often to shoot guns and fish.

If you had any doubt I was a true Texan, I hope I cleared that up.

My family decided long ago, that if there were ever any nuclear wars or zombie attacks, the farm would be our meeting place. Besides being near the likes of George W…. I do think that it is the ideal place for an emergency.

I always thought it would be kinda fun to have to live out there on nothing but wild animals and beer.

I think I could survive. I’m sure it would be a little tough, but I could handle it. I mean… I wouldn’t even have to shower very often, or maybe ever. How awesome would that be? I’ve even already learned some very important rules about living off the land. Like a few years ago, my friend LA decided we would paint our faces with the juice that comes out of the pretty fruits that grow on cacti. Not a good idea. Those little fruits have many invisible, yet painful tiny little stickers that will stay in your skin for weeks.

ANNNND I won’t try that again.

But moreover, I yesterday as I was perusing facebook all day for a few moments in my spare time at work- I remembered the main reason that I could never live out at the farm. You see, I saw my dad’s newest facebook profile picture….

Someone in my family tree

Yes. My father decided to change his profile pic. to be a picture of one of my ancestors. I really feel bad not knowing who he was exactly as I’m sure I’ve been told many a time, but regardless-we are related.

Harmless enough, right?

WRONG.

You see, when I was a kid I have always had a very vivid imagination. When I was a child I was scared of monsters under my bed, monsters in the toilet, monsters in the closet, zombie pets, moving dolls, spiders, aliens, the Jabberwalkie from Alice in Wonderland… and a wall in my farmhouse that has pictures of several of my ancestors hanging on it. This being one of them.

I know, I know. They’re just pictures of people whom I share my blood with, but ya’ll don’t understand the fear that their faces put it in my heart. Whenever I walked around the house , especially at night- I could feel their presence. Their eyes follow you around the room. And they all look so sinister. I guess I was afraid that they would crawl right out of those photos and beat me with a wooden paddle or something.

I got my dad to take pics of the others and send them to me. They aren’t the best quality, but you get the picture. hehehe, no pun intended.

OK so this one is a little handsome....

I bet she would wash my mouth out with soap.

This is my favorite. Clearly we are related.

Ok so they aren’t as scary here on this page. But I’m telling you people, in the house, at night… It’s a whole different story!!!!

I wonder what John Cusack’s ancestors look like. Since I am John Cusack’s girlfriend and all.

And don’t forget to ask me questions (in the comments, email, or tweet me bitches!!!) Anything on any topic… and I will answer! Or make something up. I will start answering them next week. Thanks for those who have already submitted some!

Have a humpalicious day!

Anyway, it really got me to start thinking once again about my own blog, and whether or not I really feel comfortable sharing my thoughts with everyone that I know in “real life.”

Although there are some days that I really wish I had a private blog that I could spill all of my secrets to, I think that I am pretty happy being able to share my most of my secrets to anyone who cares to read.  In fact, it does feel pretty damn good to just put most of that shit out there. I’ve said it before, but sometimes it sucks that I have no idea who knows what about me, but for the most part… you’re eventually gonna find these things out, so I might as well tell you off the bat, right? I have a constant case of word-vom anyway, and within five minutes of being in my company I’m likely to share everything I write here anyways. I can sometimes be a freak, and if you’re gonna judge me- you might as well do it soon.

In fact, sometimes I wish that everyone I knew kept a blog.

It got me thinking about all the people that I have met, that I wished that I could have instantly known everything about them…

For example.

Nearly a year ago,  a friend and I were out for a night of karaoke when I spotted an attractive gentlemen at a booth across the way.

I sat talking to my friend about nonsense, all the while, making crazy eye contact and “bedroom eyes” with said gentleman as he held his own conversation with his own friends (a boy and a girl) at his own booth, that just happened to be in perfect view from my own.

After a while, the “gentleman” (lets call him Corey, because that was his name) came over to my booth and asked if he could sit down.

“Of course,” I said.

We got to talking, and I immediately started really liking this fellow. He was extremely personable and we had a lot in common. (meaning that he too, knew all the words to Meatloaf’s Paradise by the Dashboard Light.)

Eventually, the girl from his booth came over and introduced herself as Jenny. Corey explained that they had been best friends since high school. She seemed nice enough, though a little on the edge- and said that they were about to leave but that my friend and I should accompany them to another karaoke bar nearby. My friend and I didn’t really have anything better to do, (and I practically got on my knees and begged her) so we agreed to go.

We do, and the night starts to turn into a damn romantic comedy. Corey and I sing several songs together, and share  a few kisses at our table not caring that his friends are watching. Eventually, the bar is closing and we reluctantly said our goodbyes.

After we left, Corey and I continue a heated text conversation, and I was down right smitten.

The next morning I woke my friend up and made her listen to all of the details of my late night conversation with Corey, prompting my questions…

“Do you think he’ll call??” “What do you think he meant when he said he doesn’t always know when his free time will come about.” “Did you think that girl was a bit creepy?”

I swear, if I had known his last name, I would have googled that shit.

Corey did call. We talked for a few days, and I thought he seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

Eventually, the conversation came around to my living situation…

Me: “Yeah, I basically live with a bunch of people. Some of them are gay… It’s like a constant party…”

Corey: “Well… my living situation is way more unique than yours…”

Really? Ohholyshitthisisfuckingsarcasticallyawesome.

I prepared myself for him to tell me that he lived with his parents, both sets of grandparents and his 12 cats.

Nope.

Corey: “Yeah… I live with my wife and our child…”

OPEN MOUTH GUFFAW

Corey: “Soooo… I probably should have told you earlier… you actually met my wife. She was the girl…. at the bar with me… I guess we’re in what you would call…  an open relationship .. BUT I reallllly like you. And she did to… and I wanna hang out!!!”

Me:  “You’re wife… being the girl who pulled you away from me as we were leaving the bar???”

Fucking swingers.

If that’s you’re style, more power to you…  I’m not one to judge. But I quickly came to the conclusion that I don’t want to date a guy whose wife witnessed our first kiss.

I never saw him again, but I totally talked to the dude a few more times. Not because I still wanted something to happen, but because I had a million questions about their life style and how it worked. I’m curious! What can I say? (I eventually told this story on the radio while he was listening which swiftly ended our interview-like relationship.)

If he would have had an open blog, I’m sure I could have found out all the answers by myself without wasting several weeks of his (and my own) time, and could have simply read about all the details on my own.

And this is why I have come to the conclusion that keeping an open blog is a good thing, and everyone else should too.

So if you have a freak-flag, wear it proudly… some people may be into that shiz.

And also, if you are a swinger/have more than 1 spouse/have 18 children/are a midget/have decided to change you skin color (I’m talking to you Sammy Sosa)/have appeared on the reality show “Obsessed” or in one of the more interesting episodes of “Intervention”/are in a cult/ have 2 sets of genitals/have an addiction to something outlandish… you should definitely start a blog and send me the link, pronto. I want to read all about your sordid lives.

I have told you before that technology hates me. Like, bad.  I pick up a phone, and it loses service. I sit in front of a computer, and it completely quits working. Since I’ve been at my current job, (for a year and a half) I’ve gone through 3 computers.

3 computers. One which was brand new.

I’m sure my bosses think I’m on porn sites all day contracting computer AIDS, purposely sabotaging my computers so I have an excuse not to work. In actuality, I have NO FREAKING IDEA how or why these computers keep breaking on me. I treat them well. I run anti-virus programs regularly, and I’m very careful about what sites I go to. The only reasonable explanation that I can think of, is that I have been possessed by a frequency demon. I’m not sure it is actually a frequency demon. It may be a computer demon or a technology demon, but I personally think frequency demon has a better ring to it.

But I digress.

I will state for the record now, I am in no way responsible for my current state of, yet again, being without a work computer.

I’ll start from the beginning. (Imagine the following told to you in a ghost story voice. It’s not the most exciting story ever… but I think that will help.)

Last Friday was a normal day at work. It was rainy, and I was planning on leaving early to head to Austin to see my little sister.

As usual, my bosses left (even earlier) to go either hunting, golfing, or fishing… I forget which- on this dark and foreboding day. As usual, I cleared my internet history and shut my lap top down before I headed out.

*Side note- I actually have two work computers. My desktop has Vista, and the marketing software I use, naturally does not work on Vista. Therefore, my bosses begrudgingly had to get me a second computer to use for marketing purposes. A computer which I need in order to get anything done.

Monday morning I came back into work. It was still raining, and I was in a particularly foul mood. The bosses were going to be out until Wednesday, but regardless, since I had left early on Friday, I had plenty of work to do. The early morning was business as usual. I updated the blog, checked my email, and caught up on my friend’s weekends via facebook. Around 10:00 am I turned around to start up my laptop and get started on some mailings.

DUN DUN DUN….

The laptop…. was gone.

At this point I actually didn’t think much of it, and I was a teensy bit excited that I DID have an excuse not to spend the rest of my day swamped with the monotonous task of sending out mailings. The bosses have taken the laptop with them on their hunting trips before, (as my screen saver slide-show of dead deer proved) and I figured that they had taken it again to showcase their killings. Plus, the case was gone- so I was confident that they had packed it up, because the case was nowhere near the actual computer. So I spent the next two days outwardly cursing my bosses for leaving me bored and with nothing to do, but inwardly thanking the heavens that I had extra time to do as I pleased. By late Tuesday though, I was as bored as I have ever been on a 13 hour road trip with my parents. I was racing to answer the phone. Giving insurance quotes never seemed so fun.

First thing Wednesday morning when the bosses returned I popped right in their office to ask for the laptop.

Boss: Distracted that I’d come in without knocking “Ummm… OK.. we’ll get it for you.”

I returned to my desk and about 5 minutes later I was called back into their office.

Boss: “Did you say something about the laptop?”

Me: “Umm yeah… I need it back, so I can… do some work.”

Boss: “Well where is it?”

Me: “Uh… umm… you… have it?”

Boss: “Noooooooo…..”

By this time, everyone in the office (all 6 of them) were up and in the bosses office, eager to know what we were discussing. I explained how I thought that they had taken the computer to put their pictures of bloody deer on, and they acted surprised at the prospect that I would think they would do such a thing. There was no sign of foul-play. No broken windows. Nothing else was missing. We looked in every drawer, under every desk, and in every corner of our tiny office. They asked me about five times if I was sure I didn’t accidentally take it.

Oh sure, I packed a laptop and carried it out without realizing it.

Did I? I seriously started questioning my sanity. I clearly remember leaving the office and driving straight to Ft. Worth to meet up with my friend LA, and we headed to Austin as soon as I got there. But what if I had a crazy drunk ambien moment and drove back to Dallas, stole the computer, and drove back to Austin without even remembering it?

Ok, even I am not that crazy.

The bosses called the cops and talked in length to the owner of the building. They all concluded that, besides the cleaning ladies who the building-owner fully trusts, there is no way that anyone could have gotten into our office without a key.

Its been nearly a week now and there are no new leads. Oh sure, there have been the daily jokes… “So Carissa, if you just bring the laptop back- no charges will be made.” Or the ever so clever, “So, hows that laptop treatin you? You sure were smart in stealing your own work computer to have an excuse not to work.”

I’m over this shit. Even if they decide to get me a new computer, it will take me at least a week to get everything set up again… that is if my software is even compatible.

So I’ve decided to take matters in my own hands. Seriously, I’m thinking of coming to work tomorrow donning a trenchcoat and very large pipe. I WILL get to the bottom of this.

In other words… To whoever is out there, typing away on my work laptop. I hope you are enjoying yourself right now. Because in the very near future (*shaking fist) “I’M GONNA GET YOU!!!!!

The following is a series from a week during my sophomore year of high school. Enjoy.

***the names of people have been changed for my their protection.

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3/3/98

UGHHHH! Matt is going to prom with Cindy! I can’t believe she asked him because I know she knows how I feel! He’s gunna prob make some mistake with her. Oh well, she has Tori  Spelling face anyways…. Anyways, it doesn’t matter becuz I have to hear about my friends boy problems so much, I don’t even have time  to produce any problems for myself! But non-problem news, I saw that guy Cliff walking to the gym today. It has been a goal of mine to find a gorgeous guy from the wrong side of the tracks and who looks like Matt Damon. Now Cliff could just be that guy. Im soooo sick of my parents making me get off the phone at 10:30!!! It makes me in such a bad mood. I wish my song “Then What” by Clay Walker would come on. Oh yeah, and I’m nervous about cheer competition! Laterz- Car

What I find most disturbing about this entry is that I have absolutely no memory of ever listening to Clay Walker, much less having a country song be “my song.” However, I think I would still consider finding “a gorgeous guy from the wrong side of tracks who looks like Matt Damon” one of my top priorities in life.

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3/18/1998

I hate school! I wish more than anything that I didn’t have school tomorrow! I just spent the last 4 hours working on stupid algebra that I still don’t understand worth shit! Yah and of course Matt didn’t help me. He was probably to busy making out or fucking Cindy  or something. I saw her car over there today. BITCH!

In other news we got 3rd place at cheer competition. Sounds ok but we were only competing against 2 other teams. Awesome. Camping was fun but I really wish my dad wouldn’t go into public places wearing picnic ant rainbow pajamas. I’m gonna burn those things. Oh I love Adam Sandler and The Wedding Singer was the best movie ever! Well later, Paul is on the phone being an ass. Love youuuuuu, Car

It seems that my symptoms of bi-polar disorder have been going on far longer than I thought. I should probably get that checked out. My father still has those ant pajamas, and I still want to burn them. I still have an unhealthy celebrity crush on Adam Sandler. I guess not much has changed in eleven years.

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3/20/1998

It official, my life sux! I’m sick! I hate being sick!  I don’t even feel bad but I caught pink eye from Amy, that biznitch! I also failed my algebra final. Yup it is pretty bad. And then I also caught Matt lying to me about where he was again. Its bullshit but I have decided to never talk to that mother effer again. For real this time! But maybe just one more time to tell him happy birthday. Ugh I just hate sitting home alone when I know every one is out. I just watched Mixed Nuts and Airheads both with Adam Sandler! I love him so much. I’m sorry I’m being so negative. Everyone always says I over exaggerate everything and I guess they’re right. I just realized I say “I guess” a lot. Oh well! I say that a lot too!! Who cares! I gotta go watch 90210! yo!

I wonder how many times in my life I’ve said I am never going to talk to a guy again. I really should learn my lesson and coin a new catch phrase. Especially after reading the next entry.

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3/22/1998

Last night was Matt’s surprise party. There were some pretty ghetto peeps there but it was kinda fun. Then tonight on the phone he said I looked soooo good last night. He said he wished it was just us in the room. so booya horseface! And he wants to do drivers ed together and that would be kewl but I don’t really care anyways cause I kissed Tommy last night and I didn’t tell anyone, except for you, so don’t tell anyone! Now I’m watching the taped Academy Awards and I sooooo hope Matt Damon wins! (I actually already know he doesn’t win for acting but I still hope ) Oh what I would do to know him on a personal basis. He doesn’t seem like  the kind of guy who would care too much about the age difference. Gosh school has been so boring. I wish I could drink some of that excitement stuff like on Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Well tomorrow I’m going to see The Newton Boys and that has Skeet Ulrich in it!! YAYYY!!!  Later Gator, Car

Kewl. WTF? I guess years from now people are going to look back on WTF and say something completely different that means the same thing.

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I really wish that I could say that these days I’m not much of a loser. Honestly,  if I knew for sure that nobody I knew actually read this my daily blog entry would probably read pretty much the same way.

Not to say that I didn’t watch some bad television as a kid. In recent years, I’ve tried to watch re-runs of Saved By the Bell and Full House, and they definitely don’t carry the same magic that they used to. That got me thinking about which shows that I used to love would still render themselves enjoyable now that I am an adult. I haven’t seen most of these shows in years, so to get a little perspective and refreshment, I even posed the question in the askreddit section of Reddit.com, and got an overwhelming response. In the end, my top ten are primarily shows that I would watch, but since I think I have pretty good taste.. here ya go!

10). Dinosaurs: (1991-1994) This Emmy winning prime-time comedy was an animated sitcom surrounding a family of, well, Dinosaurs. It didn’t come out until after Jim Henson passed away, but he had been waiting until the world was ready for animation that dealt with more adult humor. After the Simpsons proved that it worked, Dinosaurs kept quite a nice following with adults and kids alike. Seeing that the world loves crude, topical animation more now than ever, I think it would definitely still work in the modern times.

9). Mr. Wizard’s World: (1982-1991)In a world where kids are seemingly getting dumber and more like video game playing robots (simple robots)  than people, I think a show like Mr. Wizard’s World should be mandatory. I know that there are some people out there that, when it came to “learning” shows, preferred Bill Nye the Science guy or Beakman’s World- but in my book Don Herbert wins out as best t.v. scientist. I don’t know what it was about this show, but it really made me want to learn things!  The only other thing that has ever made me “want to learn things” is adderall; so I have come to the conclusion that there must be some sort of hypnotic subliminal message hidden in this t.v. show. Therefore, as long as they upped their dosage to effect the masses of ADHD children running around today- it would still be a pretty popular show,  as far as “learning” shows are concerned.

Plus, it had a pretty nerdgasmic opening credits, even by today’s standards.

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8). Clarissa Explains it all: (1991-1994) Maybe it’s because I haven’t actually seen an episode of Clarissa Explains it All in about 10 years, but if it is anything like I remember it -I would definitely still watch it today. You would think that after having every single person I have ever introduced myself to since 1991 reply with “har har, so do you explain it all?” And my having to answer with, ” my name is Carissa- not Clarissa, ya dumbass,” I would cringe at just hearing the show’s title… but surprisingly it doesn’t really bother me. Perhaps that’s because Clarissa was pretty much the coolest girl ever on t.v. I know you probably deny that you even watched it- but come on! You can’t tell me that you didn’t want a room like hers. I remember wanting to put a step ladder (my house was one story) outside my window, just to see if my very own Sam would pop on by. I know that today Clarissa would probably be a little dated, but I bet if they could update it to the times and get Diablo Cody to write the dialogue- it would be a hit!

7). Salute Your Shorts: (1991-1993) I’m sure your beginning to gather that I grew up in the Nickelodeon generation. I feel kinda gay admitting that I pretty much watched nothing but Nickelodeon (with the exception of Mork and Mindy,) but I can’t really be embarrassed about something that helped define me. I digress. Along with having one of the best theme songs in the existence of theme songs, I don’t think there is any question that Salute your Shorts would be a hit today.  It seems children’s television is all laugh track and pretty people these days. I don’t know if there was one pretty person on Salute Your Shorts. Plus, it was a politically incorrect slap-stick comedy set at a camp. Whats not to like about that? Also, did I mention the theme song?

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6). Boy Meets World: (1993-2000) If you have followed along, you may remember an old  journal entry I posted, that mentioned how much I wanted a love like Corey and Topanga’s. To tell you the truth, I still want a love like Corey and Topanga’s. The reason this would work in present day, is because it is exactly like the shows of the present day. Only it was way better. Just thinking about it makes me want to go learn a life lesson from Mr. Pheeney. Only, now that I’m really thinking about it- they need to bring this show back in the present day. I grew up so close with these guys, I don’t know what to do next! There are so many questions that they left unanswered… What did they do after college?  Would Corey and Topanga be so happy now? Or would they be battling to keep their mortgage from defaulting?

5). The Wonder Years: (1988-1993) Read the above post about Boy Meets World, and pretty much all the same reasons apply. The Wonder Years, set in the 60′s, followed Kevin Arnold in his journey through adolescence. Although it was set during the time my parent’s were growing up, I could relate to Kevin and his gang probably more than anyone else on television.  Each episode played out as a chapter of Kevin’s life, and I can still hear that narrator in my head every time I learn a lesson. It was both hilarious and heartbreaking, and as much as today’s youth has changed over the years- I’m sure even they can relate to that.

4).Pee-Wee’s Playhouse: (1985-1991) I think there is a good chance that if Paul Reubens hadn’t gone and pulled his wiener out in public, Pee Wee would still be the sensation today that is was back in the late eighties. Or at the very least it would have been canceled and then later given a shot at a come-back. Pee Wee was an over- the -top character who had a group of odd friends (mostly played by Second City alumnae, puppets, and stop animations) who helped him learn very odd life lessons. In Pee Wee’s world, it was not out of the ordinary to take a trip into his nostrils to see what his boogers were up to. More than anything, it was always such a fun time you never realized you were actually learning something. Kids (and adults) from any generation would enjoy spending a little more time in that playhouse where anything can happen. Today’s secret word is… Awesome! AHHHHHHHHHHH

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On a side note, it  turns out Paul Reubens is making plans to revive Pee Wee live on the stage. I will definitely travel to see this, where ever it may be.

3).The Ren and Stimpy show: (1991-1996) “Ren and Stimpy” set the footprints for pretty much every crass cartoon that plays today on Adult Swim. This show followed the ridiculous adventures of Ren the crazy chihuahua and Stimpy the cat. They often touched on important subjects as farting, rotting teeth, selling rubber nipples, and pissing on electric fences. I know this show would work today, because it still does. It was even revived back in 2003, and in the newest revival Ren and Stimpy were even more openly gay for each other than before.  It does need to be noted that original creator was only responsible for the first 2 seasons. The good news is that as of June 2009, you can catch re-runs on MTV 2. Ohhh Joyyyy!

2). Hey Vern, It’s Ernest!: ( 1988) Similar in mood to Pee Wee’s Playhouse, Jim Varney brought us a variety of hilarious characters in this short lived comedy. If you have seen the Ernest movies, you must note that they were really poor in comparison. I remember watching this show over and over from video tapes that my parents recorded, and I may just have to pull them back out this weekend. It really is a shame that Jim Varney passed away because he really was a talent like no other. Sketch comedy has certainly made a comeback in recent years,;and if Frank Caliendo can have a career now, there is no question that Jim Varney could too. I think the main reason why it didn’t work back then was because it was so ahead of it’s time. KnowwhutImean?

1).The Adventures of Pete and Pete: (1993-1996) I always kind of thought that this was kind of like The Wonder Years on heavy hallucinogenics. The Adventures of  Pete and Pete follows two brothers named Pete in their absurd but hilarious tales of adolescence. The characters were all quirky, yet sincere. The story lines were outrageous, yet you could relate. The acting was great and I am surprised the two main Petes are MIA… although you will notice superb guest stars ranging from Janine Garafalo to Michael Stipe. The Adventures of Pete and Pete is one of the most unique and memorable tv shows I have ever seen, and as much as it touched me, it would have to have the same impression on a younger generation. Afterall; they still all have 2 eyes and a heart, don’t they?

I picture myself giving my Academy Award acceptance speech, and  receiving kisses of congratulations from John Cusack and James Franco. I see myself as a guest on This American life, and afterward Ira Glass takes me out for a picnic dinner where his melodic voice puts me in a trance by telling me his own life story.  Whenever I drive, I imagine that my life is a movie- and whatever song is on in the background determines the reason that I am driving, in this particular scene of the movie. In fact, right now I’m imagining  myself eating a big bowl of pasta instead of this freezer-burned lean pocket that I have doused with Tabasco sauce in order to make it semi-edible. I basically pride myself on being able to daydream myself out of any situation.

At night, it is a whole other story.

I rarely “night dream,” probably because when I go to sleep- I have usually passed out from ambien, benadryl or wine…

But when I do dream at night, my brain seems to lose all sense of humor, creativity, and variety. It probably means something ominous, but I never have happy dreams. I have never dreamt that I was flying, or that I’ve won the lottery. Nope. My brain seems to only have 4 dreams on the dreamreel that it enjoys torturing me with- time and time again.

The first and least scary, is the very common “teeth falling out” scenario. Sometimes this dream plays out like that episode of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” where Charlie loses one tooth, then  keeps pulling them out just to see if he can. Other times I will be eating something in the dream, and I notice a gritty feeling in my mouth. I spit and realize that my teeth are slowly crumbling into bits that feel like sand. I’ve heard that these dreams can mean that I’m feeling guilty about something or that I am not in control of a situation in my life… and suppose either of these interpretations could ring true.

I also tend to dream about life in a  post-apocalyptic world. I used to have tornado dreams all the time, where the wind would lift my body as my fingernails dug into the earth in an attempt not to end up in Munchkin land. In more recent years, the disaster has progressed from mere windstorm- to total destruction of the entire earth. Usually in this dream I find myself in a building with a few random people that I have known in my life. We are drifters and are the only people left on  earth. Sometimes we venture out in groups through the fire and smoke filled streets to try to find a rat to munch on. Buildings are falling everywhere and sometimes I think I see a glimpse of one of my parents or a friend. I usually wake up around this point in a panic…

Another dream I have more and more often lately- is the one where I am back in high school or college, and I have no idea when the last time I went to class was, or where any of my classes are. I have been out of school for five years and I still convince myself in my sleep that I have missed 3 exams and there is no possibility of my getting to graduate. I also wake up from these dreams in a panic; but it is the best feeling in the world to realize that instead of missing a semester of school and not knowing where I’m going- I have to go to work, and have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with my life.

The fourth recurring dream is by far the worst. I’m kind of embarrassed to tell you about it, even though it has never really happened in real life. Here goes. I have these awful nightmares where I am at work or some other public place and I have to go to the bathroom really really bad. To be clear- when I say “go” to the bathroom, I do mean go go to the bathroom. In these dreams, the urgent feeling suddenly comes to me and I am filled with great fear.  I can hear my co-workers calling my name as I rush by, knowing that something is terribly wrong. Just as I open the bathroom door, I know it is too late. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination, but the scenario always ends the same. Someone comes to check on me, and I have to tell them the truth. Even in my dreams I know that there is no escaping walking into an office smelling and looking as if I just took a swim in a sewer without anyone noticing. I always wake up from these dreams  amazed that I don’t  have to go go in real life.

I’ve tried looking up what the significance of this dream in numerous online dream dictionaries to no avail. I suppose it could just be a warning to me about whatever shitstorm is coming my way. Let me know if you are a dream intrepeter and can solve this little mystery.