It’s just rude

I feel like an annoying girlfriend having the attitude of ‘text me back.’ But really, dammit, respond. I live with you. I shouldn’t find out about your whereabouts and activities from facebook and having your friend tell our friend who then tells me. That shit ain’t cool. Now I’m beyond irritated and can’t sleep because you’re disrespectful to me and my night.

If that’s the way you want to have a relationship, it ain’t gonna last much longer.


Oh I hear your car now.



I’m a wreck

I’m really just that right now. I wish I wasn’t and I wish that I had the time and space to sort myself out, but I lack those luxuries so this will have to do. I’m pretty rushed for time right now, as I must get to work, but working isn’t so great for me right this second. I work with the public and I’m essentially on display. I also have severe anxiety at the moment. Sometimes I do better and life isn’t difficult, but when life things start changing, that takes a toll.

You see, I’m moving in a few weeks. It shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s just down the road and I’ll be closer to school. I’m going to walk. It all sounds nice and good. I’m growing up, right? And I’m doing what normal people do. I’m moving in with my boyfriend. It sounds even less odd because we already live together. But that was from circumstance. This is by choice. I’ll actually be on the lease and responsible for my portion instead of living like a refugee. Everything, should be just fine.


As nice as everything sounds, I can’t get the last time I shared a domicile equally with someone. To say that it didn’t end well would be an understatement. In reality, I still have daily anxiety associated with it, even after a year and a half. It might be nothing compared to the immediate mental torture, but it’s enough to have me panic and screw things up, as my specialty. I’m really rather fabulous at panicking and screwing up something good.

Maybe one day I’ll have the piece of mind and live on my own. However, that day has no ability to come until probably about 4 years from now. Then these worries can go away.

Castle Ink Paperless Scholarship Entry

Being a native of the Pacific Northwest, I’ve been recycling my whole life. I even remember the days where we had to separate glass, plastic, can, and paper. While it’s great that I’ve always made efforts to recycle, I’ve learned about the importance of reusing and reducing.

I worked as a Challenge Course Facilitator at a ropes course, where I facilitated an environmental education program for elementary school kids. One of the activities we did focused on reducing, reusing and recycling. We had platforms representing each with different sizes from large, which can fit about 10 adults, to small, 2-3 adults, respectively. The sizes were assigned to the most impact that each did. Recycling is fantastic, but what if we used these products again? Recycling isn’t quite what it’s called, it’s actually down-cycling. Used rubber tires can be made into mats on playgrounds. Despite the fact it’s not the most sustainable, I still recycle everything I can.

What if we used something as simple as a reusable cup? I work as a barista and we go through loads of cups, which we wouldn’t need if even a majority brought in their own cups. I can’t even fathom how many cups we would save.

Even better than reusing, we can reduce. Like with the cups above, if we used less, so many resources can be saved. One of the easiest things I’ve found to reduce, is to keep my documents digital. If I can, I submit everything online, from my taxes to most social communications. I’m not perfect, but I do try to not buy more than I need, or items which contain less packaging, such as the giant bags of cereal versus the individual bowls.

These are just a few ways I try to reduce, reuse and recycle. What are the ways you do your part?

And do check out for all your ink needs.

Sometimes I’m glad to be me

I have been given a cold. It’s one of those nasty travel colds, which tend to follow airplane trips. And I didn’t even get the fun part of the trip. What actually makes me absolutely miserable is being able to sleep. I tend to drown myself in nyquil, in hopes of passing out cold for the whole night. Last night didn’t quite go to plan, since I was also drunk. Spare the lecture, I know I shouldn’t drink and have a nyquil chaser. However, it was my one night to drink a bunch and cold be damned.

This combination led to a less than wonderful night’s sleep. This morning, the boyfriend decided to put all the blankets on me, making me way too hot and waking me up for the day. I was not pleased.

I said something. It went something along the lines of, “I’m annoyed. I was trying to sleep and you woke me up.” Turns out he thought I was awake in all my morning glory. Yeah, that’s never after nyquil. I’m typically a groggy mess until I get a cup of coffee or two. I was rolling over to sleep more. I wanted more damn sleep. It wasn’t a great night’s sleep, dammit. And we’re going to be up late tonight at the midnight showing of the Hunger Games. Okay, I might still be a little annoyed after my two cups of coffee.

What I am happy about is the fact that I can state a problem in a calm manner and have things hashed out in under 5 minutes. I’m really happy I didn’t let it fester all day, either, or I might have been pissed off all day.

I’d just like some peaceful sleep

Is it too much to ask for? Isn’t this the time of my life I should be rested, unless I’ve been partying and need to be up for work? I have no pets or kids or anything that should keep me up. Alas, I am a light sleeper and my boyfriend wakes me more than he should. And sometimes he just randomly wakes me up in the middle of the night. No, I’m not particularly nice then. I love sleep. I’ve always cherished it. As much as I love my sleep, sleep does not love me back. I find it nearly impossible to fall asleep; I’m fortunate if I stay asleep. I’m even more lucky if it’s a peaceful night. For the past year or so, I’ve had some dreadful dreams. I hardly remember when I wake, but I’m haunted by the people. If there was a way I could erase some things from my mind, I would, without hesitation. By definition, I have PTSD. The dreams are really what get me. They keep it fresh in my mind and I can’t escape. It’s disrupting my current life. It’s being problematic to what I want to do. I’m too scared of what might happen. And I don’t know how to express it to anyone. My friend who knows all the details or my boyfriend who has to actually deal with me.

And on a semi-related note, I’m still somewhat shocked I have a boyfriend actually. I’m kind of broken and I actually managed to trust a new person, not that the old ones had my trust.

My mind is becoming more and more of mess as I write this. You know I’m going crazy when I do the same things over and over and over again, in an obsessive sort of way. Minesweeper is a favorite and this month listening to the song “Safe and Sound” by Taylor Swift are keeping me occupied. I’m gonna go be crazy now.

My Brother

I think he’s a loser, but I’m not the only one.

It’s really the consensus.

My brother has been working on a beard. And needs a haircut too. He’s started to look like a hipster sans glasses and Starbucks. And he’s actually poor. All he needs to add are some plaid shirts. Maybe he can do something with his life and take up photography.

My brother is two years older and has clearly been dropped on his head, out the window and been hit by the Ugly Stick a few too many times. I’m not drop dead gorgeous, but at least at this point, I don’t look like I live in the woods. If all else fails me, at least I have my intelligence. Some times that seems doubtful, but I can rattle off random facts like nobody’s business. I’m like the Portal 2 Fact Core. And a little like the Adventure Core “Rick.” I digress.

My brother loves soccer. He thinks he fabulous and a gift to the soccer community. I think he has delusions of grandeur and has never ever played with, near or around the Sounders, but that’s me. I know my brother’s reliance on lying.

“How can you tell that someone’s a compulsive liar? I mean, assuming their pants aren’t on fire.” -Shawn Spencer, Psych, Truer Lies. In my world, his name is Jeff and he’s a few inches taller than me and people tell me we’re related, but I don’t believe them.

He’s over now. He made me mad, so I yelled at him as I went back to my room. I’d rather be here with the internet.

My crazy hell week

I’ve had some busy weeks. I’ve had some bad weeks. And I’ve had busy/bad weeks, but this one takes the cake. Oh I wish there was cake.

Never ever again shall I do what I’m voluntold. It’s like volunteering, but worse. It’s more of a do this or else… sort of thing. It was akin to house sitting in July, but instead of chilling by myself, watching tv and playing video games, I’m in a house by myself in a somewhat seedy neighborhood, with tasks to complete, but having those tasks be a mystery until “Why haven’t you done that?”

That’s it in a nutshell. For the record, I’m not a mind reader- tell me what you want. Write it down if you have specifics. And do not expect me to function before noon. I know normal people do, but I’m certainly not normal and I go to bed at earliest 1am, but usually closer to 3am. I start my work shifts at 8pm and I like my odd schedule. So don’t you dare fuck with it. I’ve been known to get violent and/or weepy when denied coffee or enough of coffee.

I have been updating my facebook status frequently however. Normally, I like to go a few days in between those things. I plan on returning to my average frequency once I’m done with my project.

Overheard in the u district: that maps so old it has czechoslovakia. I feel old.

Im going through desktop withdrawls. No games on the netbook. Need games. Gaaaams. Like brains but for nerds.

I’ve already had a nap. (at 9am)

How does one make an incendiary lemon? I think I’d like one right about now.
SS-Well, Pam. I could tell you but I’d probably end up spending the rest of my life at Gitmo, so it’s probably best you don’t ask.

Freedom! Now what? Im like a cow thats escaped the field. Now i sound really country. Im just going to stop now.

I think I’m more excited than all my coworkers combined to go to work tonight. Work today is that bad. Never, ever work for family/ almost family.

I think im more functional hungover. Actually drunk too. I hate morning.

I’m waiting for a average blonde guy to show up and collect money. This isn’t awkward at all.

Strange noise in this large old house that I’m in all by myself in Seattle? Ax murder, of course. Or my cousin stopping by.

Hey u district thanks for making ptown look downright classy. You even make moscow look good (Moscow, ID is one odd place where natives can’t drive well and is the butt of jokes from us Washington kids.)

I think if i went to this jack in the box at night id get raped or shived. I miss pullman.

These are actually in reverse order because I’m too lazy to make them chronological. However I do find these quite funny.

My highlights of the week: Beer Wednesday and new friends! Yay nerds and vaginas! And even better? Nerds with vaginas!

Actual work! Yeah I might not be paid well and have crappy hours according to Them, but how many jobs do you go to where everyone is opinionated and says what their thinking. “No being pissed off and tired is my job tonight!” We had three people full out vying for that one. The boys were all fine. We worked, we argued, we sang, we forget sections and got lost. But it was honestly lots of fun. It’s not always, but I’m thankful for my job and the customers I claim to hate. It could be worse. Been there, quit that. That’s what I get for being opinionated and refusing to waste my life with bad situations. That’s me. The girl who quits if it doesn’t line up ethically and morally. I’m not picky on what I quit- jobs, classes, people. The only ones I have a challenge quitting are my family members, but that’s another whole ball of wax… lodged in an unhappy ear canal… that I like to psychoanalyze because I almost have a Psych degree.

Well At Least Now They Know I’m A Nerd

I just got home from work. Yes, it’s 8:30am. WE started at 10pm yesterday. Oh the joys of price changes. It was one interesting night.

At lunch, the smokers were attempting to devise a way to get that nicotine fix. One suggestion was the trash compactor. Nothing could be bad about that, right? So wrong. Have you never seen Star Wars?Things live in there and not just microscopic scary things, but big giant people eating monster things. Yeah that was when they realized I’m a nerd.

I did refrain from making GLaDOS comments during that break whilst trying to jokingly demean one of my coworkers.

NOTE: I feel asleep there for a few hours. I welcomed the narcolypsy.

And in one of my proud hair moments, I found a hairspray that held 10+ hours, made an impressive pouf of hairspray alone, and retained some hold, even after my few hours of sleep. I think I’m in love with Garnier Fructis Full Control Anti-Humidity in Ultra Song.It comes in an aerosol can and is just fabulous. I bought it, so I paid them to make this recommendation


High School was Boring, Except the Chicken Pox

As I have said before, I like boys. They give me interesting stories.

First up, we have Thomas. We were in NJROTC together. You know those kids who were in uniform once a week on campus? Oh you didn’t have those? Well your school wasn’t as cool as mine. I was 15 and he was 16. We had shared NJROTC together all year, but he didn’t ask me out until summer.

And this summer started out great. I missed finals because I was sick. “With what?” You ask. I was highly contagious with chicken pox. Kids normally get those, and me. By use of the internet, we communicated since I was only being allowed to be around my siblings in hopes I will expose them to my disease. I did give it to my older brother. That was fun. I made sure he was going to get this. Who says I don’t share?

He was at a graduation party, which comes into play much, much later. (Some people need to get out of looking in their hometown for available men.)

Nothing really happened in our summer song relationship. Okay, yes, there was a first kiss. No, I wasn’t drunk this whole relationship. We hung out together. This was the time I went to the library a lot and watched my younger siblings.

The interesting part came afterwards. He decided to start dating my best friend. Yeah, we weren’t the best of friends then. AAnd then there was the time I ran him right out of my Supply Room. (NJROTC nerd, remember? Somebody had to be in charge of all the uniforms and inventory. It just happened to be me.)

I have patellofemeral syndrome and that makes my knee hurts every once in a while. That was one of those days. My fathful Supply Reps found me a wheeled chair and helped me inventory. He came in to see (read: take over) Supply. Like hell was I going to let this happen. I didn’t care how much it hurt, he was getting the hell out of my Supply room. True story. Somehow in my running him out of my room, my knee popped back into place.

I admit, I went a little crazy. This was also the time in my life I was known to yell at the mice that made that room their home. Yell things like “I’M GOING TO GET YOU, YOU DAMN LITTLE SQUEAKERS!”

Oh high school.

Hello there

I know most people want to introduce themselves and stuff since it’s the first post and all, but I’m not “most people”.

OMG, sun! Where did you come from? Sorry, I’m from Washington State and it rains a lot here, sometimes even in August, like today. But I looked over and suddenly, SUN!

I was going to dedicate this first post to the wonderful white, sticky, delicious stuff known as fluff. Yes that sounds a bit dirty, but it’s fun isn’t it. Marshmallow fluff creme stuff is amazing. I’ve gone my whole life, a whole 23 years without it. It’s up there with nutella and peanut butter in my book.