on my way to getting nowhere

I am in Lake Como, PA.  Seriously.  The drive was long!  Nebraska takes forever to get thru; I also hate Nebraska, but for other reasons.

We have no internet access at the Lake.  None.  I’m sitting inside the Honesdale LIbrary.  It looks like an old Victorian home and I strangely feel as if I am trespassing.

We also do not have cable or cell phone reception.  The three hour time difference is kicking my ass.

But the Lake is pretty.  It’s also quiet and our lovely guinea pigs are adjusting. 

The best part? If I don’t want to, I don’t have to work the entire summer.  I can take a break.

Hee!

say nice things to me

We’re moving.

To New York! Uh, Pennsylvania, actually. Since he received a better offer. Moving in about two weeks. Ahhhh!!

We’ll be moving around mid-June. The Boy received a job offer in upstate New York and I’m pretty fed up with California…so, yay!

waiting on a different story

This is what adulthood looks like on the weekends:

• Paid off about $100 of credit card debt. Only $1200 more to go!
• Did two loads of laundry.
• Ran over the neighbor boy
  He bolted right out in front of me. In the parking lot!
• Cleaned the bathroom.
• Made cinnamon streusel bread.
• Complained about the neighbors throwing a party.
  Their kids were running up and down the stairs. Sheesh.
• Shoe shopping.
  But not buying anything because there’s the credit card debt to take care of. That $25 you spend on the shoes should go toward the card!

till then i walk alone

I need something to keep me awake and entertained at work. I’ve found it below! Just had to pimp out these comics. They’re hilarious!

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

we get older and blame turns to shame

Let me start by saying my dad is cool, for a dad. He’s honest, fair, has a great sense of humor, and most of the time will let me live my own life regardless of how he feels about it.

Keep all that in mind while I relay some of my most vivid childhood memories of the man.

Memory #1
My Dad and I are playing checkers. I’m eight years old and he rules at the game. I have yet to beat him, but through some odd turn of luck, I win. He loudly declares that I did not win because my move was illegal.

It wasn’t illegal when he moved that way! To this day, he tells me that I have not beaten him at a game of checkers.

Memory #2
We’re at a local mall and getting out of our car on a hot, hot day. Since my dad is too cheap to use the air conditioning (it wastes gas, he says), I crack my window a bit before we leave so it’s not stifling.

“Close your window all the way! Someone could throw a cigarette in the car and set it on fire!”

The crack is tiny. Someone would literally have to deliberately push their cigarette through the opening! I understand his reasoning…people do some mean and weird things. It’s possible, but not likely. Apparently, it happened to a friend of a friend of the family…and you know how that goes.

I close the window.

Memory #3
I was walking to the car from the grocery store and in typical fashion, I was walking with my head down (self-esteem issues, poor posture, who knows). As soon as I get into the car, “Pay attention! Someone could just come out and kill or rape you! All because you walk with your head down!”

It’s broad daylight. The car is parked right in front of the grocery store exit. I was on the verge of saying, “You wouldn’t try to save me or anything?”

I sometimes wonder if my family is crazy or if this is how Filipino families work.

smells like teen spirit

The Boy: “You lucked out - I am not a smelly man… in general.”

i’m just a girl

A random post about this past week….

• CLR is damn good at getting rid of hard water stains. Although their instructions about “rinsing with cold water” defeats the purpose of my getting rid of the hard water stains.
• I use the toilet seat covers (unused of course) to blot the oil from my face at work. They work great!
• The Boy is one grouchy person in the morning. Especially if you drop the alarm behind the bed and he has to move the bed for you to get it at 6:30 in the morning.
• Brand New can do no wrong.
• I had a dream where my mom gave The Boy and I plane tickets to Puerto Rico for a week long vacation.
• It’s taking a long time for season 11 of The Simpsons to come out and that really sucks.
• I want one of these. They look so cool!
• Our Customer Support person is out for a few weeks and there are about four of us covering her job (status checks, returns, back orders, late projects, etc).
• Selma watches me while I change my clothes. It’s oddly disturbing.

don’t ever let me go

I never mentioned that I went to the zoo on April Fool’s Day. The Boy recounted the whole day, with our car being broken into and all the cool animals we saw.

I also never mentioned that the koala is my favorite animal and it’s not my favorite animal because it’s incredibly adorable.

For my sixth Christmas, my parents gave me a stuffed koala dressed in a knitted sweater and cap. He was lovely. I’m not sure why I thought he was a he, but he was. Unlike my other stuffed animals, he resided on my bed, kicking up his heels and relaxing. I even snuggled him on cold nights, holding him tightly to my shivering body and receiving some warmth. I cut the hair off my Barbie and made her live like a pauper (spoiled bitch). I pulled at threads on my pink bear ballerina until the stuffing poured from her like blood, but Koala (I never named him) was brushed daily and handled with care.

I can remember cuddling him on a particularly bad night, crying into my pillow (so I wouldn’t get tears on the little guy) and for some odd reason, being extremely comforted that he was there.

Koalas have been my favorite animal ever since.

take me the way i am

All the worst possible things you can do in a new relationship, The Boy and I have done…with each other. Strangely enough, it worked out really well for us.

• We spent every waking moment together.
  As soon as one of us got off of work, we went to see each other. I’d get up at 6AM from his place and go home to get ready for work. Get off of work at 6PM and then go see him again.
• I met his parents within the first two weeks of dating.
  “We should go over to my place. My parents should be asleep by then.” Uh, no. His parents were up, baking cookies with his sisters. Too much family too soon? Yes, but I figured out they’re pretty cool.
• I trapped (so he says) him into answering the boyfriend question.
  “My cousin asked me if you were my boyfriend. I didn’t know what to say.”
  “Why don’t you tell him yes.”
  “Oh, okay.”
• We revealed too much too soon.
  “I’ve dated a married woman before.”
  “I sort of messed around with a lot of guys.”
  Scare most people off? Well, duh, but not us. To most people, it screams of I have so much emotional baggage, want to deal with it? The Boy and I have no emotional baggage with relationships because we never cared about anyone we were with before, so it worked out well for us.
• He invited me on a trip after about three weeks of dating.
  He asked me if I wanted to go camping (which is sacred to him). The outdoors is the closest The Boy has to a calming place and he invited me to share that. I didn’t realize how big of a deal it was until much later.

I guess the point of all this is those relationship books aren’t always right. I asked The Boy one time if it would have been different if I hadn’t been as affectionate or if I played hard to get. He said it would have been, since he hates that sort of thing. If you act like you’re not interested, well he’d assume that I wasn’t interested.

Follow your gut on things like this. Unless your gut is crazy, then the books would be a good idea for you.

i found a reason for me

I was browsing my old blog and stumbled onto this entry:

Thursday, October 12, 2006
where I end and you begin

I wanted to ramble about general life crap…

I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but I do know that I want to escape. Withdraw and not even deal right now.

It may be general boredom, frustration, or anger…but I just want to run away from everything right now. For sure, there’s some sadness there (which is always the case), but what I’m having trouble dealing with is the frustration. I’m not sure what the source of the frustration is, which makes me more frustrated….

I don’t know what I’m babbling about. I think I miss being numb. That was the best place for me. In all honesty, I didn’t miss feeling happy, because happy was never that happy for me. The lows, on the other hand, were low. So, I was quite happy being numb to everything, and basically being a zombie.

Shopping, though, is incredibly therapeutic for me. I need to buy something cool to make myself temporarily feel better. I’m sure these feelings will come back like a tidal wave in a few weeks, but retail therapy is pretty much all I have right now.

I’m currently torn between the iPod Shuffle or The Simpsons: Season 9…or hitting the thrift stores. I can get more stuff at the thrift store for a lot less and it’ll probably stave off the crying jags and the need to claw at my skin just so I can focus on a different pain for a change.

If it never gets better, then what’s the point? I don’t get it anymore.

Of course, all this is pointless because tomorrow I will be at my desk, doing my work being a good worker bee. A good daughter. Co-worker. Girlfriend. Friend. It’s all draining sometimes. It’d be nice if all stopped once in while so I can take a breath.

I’m glad I’m no longer in this place. It seems like I was there for most of my life and now that I’m not, it’s so hard to imagine my life back then.

For this, I owe The Boy a pretty big thank you.

spinning on that dizzy edge

The Boy and I have been going back and forth on whether or not we should have a wedding or elope. Eloping is looking more and more like the best option. I know, I know, this should be my day, I’m the princess and all that. Except that I hate being the center of attention.

Eloping would involve my parents, his parents, and his two younger sisters. My mom would be livid if she weren’t invited to the ceremony, so would my dad, but my dad would stew about it and say nothing (like me, of course). My mom would be screaming into the cell phone while I told her, since I would prefer to tell her the news over the phone.

I waiver back and forth. I want wedding gifts, a wedding dress, nice pictures, cute little party favors, a wedding cake, a wedding cake topper….

Then I think about how I don’t need any of that. I love The Boy. I want to marry him. Any way that works for us. Plus, our honeymoom will be a cross country road trip that we would rather save money for instead of the wedding.

I’ll still miss the wedding gifts though. Filipinos give cash, not gravy boats.

i know we’re cool

Me: “Sweetie, you do realize that your boxers are inside out, right?”
The Boy: “What? No, they’re…oh, hehe.”

While listening to Dashboard Confessional’s The Best Deceptions in the car:
Me: “Wouldn’t it be cool if there was chipmunk emo? Like Alvin singing this song?”
The Boy: “Yeah, sure.”
Me: “It could be drunk chipmunk emo! With drunk comments in the background!”
The Boy (in chipmunk voice): “So kiss me hard cause this will be the last time that I let you. (drunk hiccup). Stupid bitch.”
Me: “Exactly!”

gravity wants to bring me down

I had a fairly nice weekend of lazing around, playing with our guinea pigs, and cuddling around with The Boy…until Saturday night.

We walked to our local mall because we both need to exercise and he had video games to exchange.  On the way home, we decided to stop by Flames Restaurant.  I’ve been wanting huevos rancheros since forever. We walked in, reasonably well dressed in jeans and sweatshirts.  We waited for about 15 minutes to be seated, while other people (white people) were graciously served and attended to.  They never got to us.  I told The Boy we were leaving after he told me he heard the “mean lady” tell the waiter to “not seat us.”  I was extremely angry at this.

We’ve been to this restaurant before, so I don’t know what crawled up their butts and died that night.  We were most likely discriminated against.  I’m Filipino and The Boy is white.  He’s disabled.  Sort of.  It seems weird to say that because The Boy can more than take care of himself in a scuffle. However, one arm is noticeably shorter than the other and if you look closely you’ll notice that he has four fingers on each hand instead of five.

So, we don’t know if she had a problem with an interracial couple or with disabled people. Either way, she’s a bitch.  There was no excuse for the treatment we received.  It was 9:25 or something.  They close at midnight; there was no reason to not seat us considering the amount of seats we saw open.

Avoid the Flames Restaurant on Winchester.  It’s across the street from Santana Row, if anyone’s familiar with the area.

The Boy was also extremely angry about this.

come on woman

Last night….

Me: “We can have sex on Tuesday.”
The Boy: “That’s like a billion years in penis years.”

i want a ticket to anywhere

I’ve been driving for almost ten years and I’ve *never gotten a ticket. Just because I’ve never gotten on doesn’t mean I never deserved one. I tend to run eighty on the freeway and about fifty down residential areas, but only when no one else is in the car.

I think The Boy would love for me to get a ticket. He’s a total backseat driver and has seen me run red lights, almost sideswipe cars, and generally be a terror on the road. He’s itching for me to be caught. I tend to fly under the radar on a lot of things in my life, getting away with it because…that’s just how it works for me. I once ran a red light in front of police car and I wasn’t pulled over. He, on the other hand, has the kind of life where things continually suck for no reason and where every little thing is punished or exaggerated.

Come March 2009, it’ll be ten years without a ticket!  Which is the goal I’m setting for myself.

*keeps fingers crossed*

*By never, I mean I haven’t gotten a ticket for a moving violation. Just parking tickets.