Wow do stupid people annoy me. I am sitting in the computer lab trying to get work done. And I already have the lowest possible tolerance a human being can have for annoyances because at this point I’m ready to not only kill the dog that lives upstairs, but it’s master too. This morning, at 5:42 I woke up to a howling of a dog and the loud voices of the local morning news. I do not have a dog, nor do I have television. It was not coming from my apartment, but as I had previously discussed the annoying woman who lives above me. For some stupid reason she thinks it’s ok to have the volume on her television all the way up as loud as if she were watching a concert on t.v. At 5 in the morning in an apartment building is just not acceptable. And then to top it off her stupid retarded dog is howling at god knows what. And long after she left, the dog howled. Now what I believe happed is that she put the dog in its crate and left the tv on so the dog would have some “company”. But what she didn’t do was USE HER BRAIN. Her tv is in a different room than the dog cage, which happens to be right above my bed. So the dog howled for at least three and a half hours, time which I could have used to sleep, but instead I just grew angrier and more vengeful. There was a lot of jaw and fist clenching, and curses mumbled under my breath as I lay in bed this morning with the pillow covering my face trying to drown out the howling. The dog is in its cage, and thinks someone is home watching tv in the other room, and just wants to be with that someone, so it desperately cries, hoping its master will come let it out. But the dog doesn’t know no one is actually watching the tv that was left on. And I can hear all of it, heart beating, blood pressure rising, trying not to scream. The lady who lives above me is an idiot.
The girl who wore no pants to class last week is a idiot.
The kid who didn’t know how to double space his paper, just now in the lab is an idiot.
The guy who talks during lecture is a disrespectful idiot.
The girl in lab, who physically cannot speak without whining, is an annoying idiot.
I’m surrounded by idiots. It’s been two months and the only people I would gladly give my time to are either my professors or fictional characters in the books that I would rather read than hang out with the idiots who live and go to school here.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
all the nothingness
So living here is becoming increasingly difficult. School has started and I have ten hour days consisting of classes and work with little breaks. That isn't the hard part though.
I wake up every morning at six and am at school by 7:30, for the chilling, below zero, three quarter mile, up hill hike to campus from the student parking lot. Classes or work start at 8 and I don't really stop going until 6 each night. By the time I get home, all I want to do is eat my dinner, get my reading and homework done and get back in bed. But unfortunately the time I have at night hasn’t been getting completely filled and I finish my homework, I finish my reading and then there is the nothingness that seems to perpetually haunt me.
I knew it would be hard, moving to a town where I didn’t know anyone, but it’s so much harder than I thought it would be. I don’t even need someone to fill the silence, I just want someone to sit in it with me. It’s hard being so far away from everyone that knows me. And it’s just weird on campus, I feel eons older than the other students on campus. They walk around with their spandex pants tucked into their ug boots. They tuck their pants into their boots for fashion, I do it for practical reasons, and my boots are rubber bottomed, mens muck boots from target, even if I was trying I couldn’t make a fashion statement with them. The girls walk around with their thongs haning out and words splashed across the but of their pants. Today I saw a girl in furry stilletto boots (I live in the mountains, how very practical right?) with pajama pants with the word “delicious” written across her ass and as she bent over to get something out of her book bag her thong popped out and a piece of bedazzled jewelry reading “love” was attached to the top of her underwear. The kids on campus were born in the 90’s, which means they dress like it’s 1987. They couldn’t care less about anything of importance like the fact that we were just part of history, watching Obama be inaugurated. Sarcasm is a dead art form. All they want to do is get drunk, party and make asses out of themselves. How am I supposed to find commonalities? I’m just overwhelmed…there is so much empty time and so little to fill it with.
I wake up every morning at six and am at school by 7:30, for the chilling, below zero, three quarter mile, up hill hike to campus from the student parking lot. Classes or work start at 8 and I don't really stop going until 6 each night. By the time I get home, all I want to do is eat my dinner, get my reading and homework done and get back in bed. But unfortunately the time I have at night hasn’t been getting completely filled and I finish my homework, I finish my reading and then there is the nothingness that seems to perpetually haunt me.
I knew it would be hard, moving to a town where I didn’t know anyone, but it’s so much harder than I thought it would be. I don’t even need someone to fill the silence, I just want someone to sit in it with me. It’s hard being so far away from everyone that knows me. And it’s just weird on campus, I feel eons older than the other students on campus. They walk around with their spandex pants tucked into their ug boots. They tuck their pants into their boots for fashion, I do it for practical reasons, and my boots are rubber bottomed, mens muck boots from target, even if I was trying I couldn’t make a fashion statement with them. The girls walk around with their thongs haning out and words splashed across the but of their pants. Today I saw a girl in furry stilletto boots (I live in the mountains, how very practical right?) with pajama pants with the word “delicious” written across her ass and as she bent over to get something out of her book bag her thong popped out and a piece of bedazzled jewelry reading “love” was attached to the top of her underwear. The kids on campus were born in the 90’s, which means they dress like it’s 1987. They couldn’t care less about anything of importance like the fact that we were just part of history, watching Obama be inaugurated. Sarcasm is a dead art form. All they want to do is get drunk, party and make asses out of themselves. How am I supposed to find commonalities? I’m just overwhelmed…there is so much empty time and so little to fill it with.
i never thought i could hate a dog so much
The woman who moved into the apartment above me brought along a dog she claimed was a chihuahua, though I have never actually seen the dog, I'm pretty sure she is a liar liar pants on fire. Her apartment, from what I gather has a wood floor, and from the clatter of paws slapping the floor this dog she claims to be so tiny weighs at least 45 pounds. It runs back and forth in the apartment all night long, and at 5:10 this morning when she was getting ready, to do god knows what, the dog decided it wanted to run back and forth above my bedroom and bark on and off for the next hour.
When I decided that sleep was no longer an option I pondered the idea of going up and banging on the door and telling her if she didn’t shut that thing up I would shut it up permanently, but I thought that might be a little harsh. Though if it continues at this rate I might just be forced to do something most decent people would regret.
When I decided that sleep was no longer an option I pondered the idea of going up and banging on the door and telling her if she didn’t shut that thing up I would shut it up permanently, but I thought that might be a little harsh. Though if it continues at this rate I might just be forced to do something most decent people would regret.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
church hunt
This morning as I was getting ready to check out yet another church put on John Coltrane and Duke Ellington’s “Big Nick” and drank my coffee. Coltrane always puts me into a contemplative mood. As I sat with my coffee I thought about all the bad church experiences I have had. And I have had a LOT, let me tell you. Most of them actually being here.
I was recently on the phone with my sister dicussing the idea of church and she gave me these sage words. If you aren’t out in an hour, they are doing something wrong. If they are yelling Hallelujah and Praise You Jesus while singing, they are too in touch with the ‘Holy Spirit’ (AKA probably drank too much of the communion wine before church). If the pasto’s wife is wearing a dress with shoulder pads, they take themselves too seriously. If there are more people on stage singing and doing other musical related things, they have no sense of what good music really is. As I thought this morning about my church experiences here in Delhi, and compared them to the things I had talked about with my sister, I realized the one thing that I want, I won’t ever have again. I FREAKING MISS ARTISAN. It was, and always will be the best church that I have ever gone to. There was this harmonious balance of reality and religion all in one. There was no bull shit. The pastos give it to you like it really is. And the fact that there are four pastors makes such sense. If you split the perfect pastor into four sections, we will call these A, B, C and D for lack of proper terms, then parts a-d would be the four areas a pastor should be “fluent in” (also for lack of a better term). It’s nearly, if not completely impossible to find one person who excells in all four areas, and Artisan was smart enough to recognize that, so instead of searching for the perfect pastor, four men came together, each excelling in one of the four areas, and combined they made a great team, because they each possessed a skill that they other’s were not fluent in.
So having been to such a well rounded church, one that fit my style, one that worked perfectly for me, it is hard to find another. Some people say you only get one great love of your life. What if you only get one great church?
The first church I went to had seven people on stage doing, what I can only call, sound. I refuse to refer to what they tried to do as music. One drummer, on guitar player (with a mic also), one piano player, and four people making noises into microphones. One woman was singing in a completely different key as the rest of the people on stage, The guitar player did a lot of “praising you jesus” into the mic, instead of singing. Needless to say it was atrocious! So I left. I only stayed for about ten minutes, but once I got to my car I realized that I forgot my sunglasses, there was no way in hell that I was going back for them though. I would rather spend the $10 to buy another pair! I went to another church I had on my list, luckily it was right down the road and didn’t start until 10:30, so I had some time.
The second I walked in I was already regretting it, but I decided to give it a chance. The first problem occurred when I walked in the door, I couldn’t find the sanctuary, and it was dead silent, so there was no way I could listen for people. When I finally found the sanctuary I crept in the back and everyone was just sitting inside in silence. Creepy. Finally someone came up to the front and prayed and went back to his seat, a little confused I decided to give them five more minutes! So someone starts singing and I hear a guitar pick up. When I say someone started singing, it was weird. Someone stood up, then everyone else stood up, in the congregation that is, and then this one random person starts singing a song. The girl working the overhead projector rummages through a box of overheads looking for the song that the random person started singing, and she finds it. Meanwhile in the back of the room, yes the back corner, the band starts following the song. And it proceeded like this for an HOUR. A whole hour of someone starting a song and everyone else following. After the LONGEST hour of my life someone finally came up to teach, for fifteen minutes. After he was done I bolted.
I was recently on the phone with my sister dicussing the idea of church and she gave me these sage words. If you aren’t out in an hour, they are doing something wrong. If they are yelling Hallelujah and Praise You Jesus while singing, they are too in touch with the ‘Holy Spirit’ (AKA probably drank too much of the communion wine before church). If the pasto’s wife is wearing a dress with shoulder pads, they take themselves too seriously. If there are more people on stage singing and doing other musical related things, they have no sense of what good music really is. As I thought this morning about my church experiences here in Delhi, and compared them to the things I had talked about with my sister, I realized the one thing that I want, I won’t ever have again. I FREAKING MISS ARTISAN. It was, and always will be the best church that I have ever gone to. There was this harmonious balance of reality and religion all in one. There was no bull shit. The pastos give it to you like it really is. And the fact that there are four pastors makes such sense. If you split the perfect pastor into four sections, we will call these A, B, C and D for lack of proper terms, then parts a-d would be the four areas a pastor should be “fluent in” (also for lack of a better term). It’s nearly, if not completely impossible to find one person who excells in all four areas, and Artisan was smart enough to recognize that, so instead of searching for the perfect pastor, four men came together, each excelling in one of the four areas, and combined they made a great team, because they each possessed a skill that they other’s were not fluent in.
So having been to such a well rounded church, one that fit my style, one that worked perfectly for me, it is hard to find another. Some people say you only get one great love of your life. What if you only get one great church?
The first church I went to had seven people on stage doing, what I can only call, sound. I refuse to refer to what they tried to do as music. One drummer, on guitar player (with a mic also), one piano player, and four people making noises into microphones. One woman was singing in a completely different key as the rest of the people on stage, The guitar player did a lot of “praising you jesus” into the mic, instead of singing. Needless to say it was atrocious! So I left. I only stayed for about ten minutes, but once I got to my car I realized that I forgot my sunglasses, there was no way in hell that I was going back for them though. I would rather spend the $10 to buy another pair! I went to another church I had on my list, luckily it was right down the road and didn’t start until 10:30, so I had some time.
The second I walked in I was already regretting it, but I decided to give it a chance. The first problem occurred when I walked in the door, I couldn’t find the sanctuary, and it was dead silent, so there was no way I could listen for people. When I finally found the sanctuary I crept in the back and everyone was just sitting inside in silence. Creepy. Finally someone came up to the front and prayed and went back to his seat, a little confused I decided to give them five more minutes! So someone starts singing and I hear a guitar pick up. When I say someone started singing, it was weird. Someone stood up, then everyone else stood up, in the congregation that is, and then this one random person starts singing a song. The girl working the overhead projector rummages through a box of overheads looking for the song that the random person started singing, and she finds it. Meanwhile in the back of the room, yes the back corner, the band starts following the song. And it proceeded like this for an HOUR. A whole hour of someone starting a song and everyone else following. After the LONGEST hour of my life someone finally came up to teach, for fifteen minutes. After he was done I bolted.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
my sister
What you feel means nothing. People don’t care how you feel. It’s what you do to the people you love that means something. How you treat them, what they see, that’s what really matters. I guess you could call what I have been going through a quarter life crisis, if I live to be 96 that is. If you have been keeping up with my blog then you will surely know that I am crazy, and a little bit of a bitch too, but mostly I’ve been taking stock of how I ended up here
My sister is very blunt, she doesn’t possess the sympathy gene either, nor does she even try to fake it. My sister is a lot like me in the sense that she says exactly what she is thinking without regard for other people’s feelings. With me, she doesn’t care if the truth will hurt my feelings, she feels it is her job as an older sister to say “I told you so” as often as possible! So as we were saying goodbye she left me with this nugget of wisdom.
“Good luck at school. Don’t fuck it up, the least you could do is not drop out the first semester. Mom and dad will be too far away to come bail your ass out!”
Let me translate that for you… “Good luck at school, I know you’ll do great!” Now I’m sure you’re thinking that what actually happened was she said the latter and I interpreted the former, but in reality, my sister said those very words to me. Little nuggets of wisdom by Rebecca Mesh McCaffery.
I love my sister because she is always honest with me. She is always the first to say I told you so, and the first to tell me how much I crapped all over my life, she was the first person to tell me how fucked up I am, and suggest therapy, but because she is my sister I rarely take her advice. But looking back I’m pretty sure if I had taken EVERY piece of advice she had given me in the last six years I would be a much different person, with a lot less heart ache and screw ups in my past. It’s taken me 24 years to realize just how right she is.
If Bec has taught me one thing in my life, it’s to laugh. Laugh at myself, and laugh at my mistakes. She has taught me to not take life so seriously, or I will never get out alive (can anyone name the movie I just quoted???). If I can laugh at my mistakes then I can learn from them. No one in the world can make me laugh as hard as my sister, and no one has taught me as much as my sister has.
So my quarter life crisis went as such. I realized what a loser I was, and then I remembered to laugh at myself, and could finally recognize and appreciate that it’s ok to be a loser. As long as you know it! There is no one I love more in the world than my sister because she has taught me my most important life lessons. Adam, her husband, once told me that one of the things he loves most about Becca is her ability to laugh at herself. She taught me that among a million other things and for that I will always be grateful.
My sister is very blunt, she doesn’t possess the sympathy gene either, nor does she even try to fake it. My sister is a lot like me in the sense that she says exactly what she is thinking without regard for other people’s feelings. With me, she doesn’t care if the truth will hurt my feelings, she feels it is her job as an older sister to say “I told you so” as often as possible! So as we were saying goodbye she left me with this nugget of wisdom.
“Good luck at school. Don’t fuck it up, the least you could do is not drop out the first semester. Mom and dad will be too far away to come bail your ass out!”
Let me translate that for you… “Good luck at school, I know you’ll do great!” Now I’m sure you’re thinking that what actually happened was she said the latter and I interpreted the former, but in reality, my sister said those very words to me. Little nuggets of wisdom by Rebecca Mesh McCaffery.
I love my sister because she is always honest with me. She is always the first to say I told you so, and the first to tell me how much I crapped all over my life, she was the first person to tell me how fucked up I am, and suggest therapy, but because she is my sister I rarely take her advice. But looking back I’m pretty sure if I had taken EVERY piece of advice she had given me in the last six years I would be a much different person, with a lot less heart ache and screw ups in my past. It’s taken me 24 years to realize just how right she is.
If Bec has taught me one thing in my life, it’s to laugh. Laugh at myself, and laugh at my mistakes. She has taught me to not take life so seriously, or I will never get out alive (can anyone name the movie I just quoted???). If I can laugh at my mistakes then I can learn from them. No one in the world can make me laugh as hard as my sister, and no one has taught me as much as my sister has.
So my quarter life crisis went as such. I realized what a loser I was, and then I remembered to laugh at myself, and could finally recognize and appreciate that it’s ok to be a loser. As long as you know it! There is no one I love more in the world than my sister because she has taught me my most important life lessons. Adam, her husband, once told me that one of the things he loves most about Becca is her ability to laugh at herself. She taught me that among a million other things and for that I will always be grateful.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Finally done!
I finally finished my apartment, I just unpacked the last trinket and threw away the final box!!! It only took me a week and a half but that’s ok, it gave me something to do while I was alone here. Though what I will do for the next four days until orientation, I have no idea, but I finally feel like I live here. Pictures are on the walls and everything I look at reminds me of someone or someplace that I love!
Jack the Cat
There’s a stray cat that lives outside my building. And the past couple of nights it’s been below zero and I’m so terrified that she is going to freeze in the middle night. She’s a stranger danger cat, meaning she is pretty scared of me at this point. I went to the grocery store to buy kitty food and treats to charm her, and thus far it is working. While she was out exploring yesterday I set up a bed in the open faced shed in my backyard. I took a box left over from moving and set an old bathmat inside and made a bed out of some raggety towels my mom sent for me to use as rags. I left some treats in the bed so she would get inside and test it out. This morning when I left to run errands she was sitting inside the bed and she looked relatively content! When I came back she was still in her bed so I ran inside and got some more treats and slowly crouched down and layed them on the ground in front of me. It took her a couple of minutes to warm up to me, at first she would take a treat and run away and eat it, then come back for another, but after a while she slowly approached and stayed there to eat the rest. I think it will take her a while to get used to me, but I hope that she does, she is pretty adorable!
As soon as she does get used to me I want to take her to the animal shelter, apparently Heidi's daughter works there, random, but cool and very convenient! So I'm hoping to take Jack, that's what I've taken to calling her, to make sure she is healthy, and get her shots etc. I really hope this works out, I could use a friend!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
