Hear Ye, Hear Ye

Hello All. I know I’ve been away for a while: call it sketchiness, call it busy, whatever. I’ve been away. And the fact that ya’ll still waited for me warms my heart.

This is what our mutual affection makes me think of. This is a lot of affection on my part. I love this song. And meme.

Okay. So. Zis is ze earth. Wait, hold on…..wrong time and place. Well this is the earth. But that’s obvious. Okay, anyways. I am officially 21 years old people! That’s right, I got a glass of sangria in my hand and now I can drink whenever, however, and WHATEVER I WANT. NEENER NEENER NEENER POPO, AIN’T NUTHIN YOU CAN DO. Especially since if I’ve had ANYTHING I don’t drive.

 

Anyways, I have loads and loads of news for you all.  Mainly 21st birthday weekend stories, random things, and oh, yes. I got a tattoo.

 

 

Jaws up off the table, Mable. No drooling.

 

Anyways, lots and lots of stories coming up. Let me know which stories you’d like to hear first in the comments! If you don’t, I get to pick and I’ll go all boring stories first.

You’ve been warned.

Love,

Aurora

Unda Da She!

Alrighty people. Get over it, I don’t update when I say I will. Sorry, I’m in a “knocking yo doors down in mah stilettos and beating the beejeezus outta ya’ll” mood. For which I will explain. However, let’s recap our Tuesday through Friday notes, shall we?

Tuesday: Class. Work. Unremarkable.

Wednesday: Class, where I try not to jump up and strangle the theater prof who somehow decides that I’m getting half credit on an assignment because I DID IT THE EXACT WAY HE SAID. We’ve turned in four of them and this is the first one I’m getting back. Did I mention that I tried not to strangle him? So worn out by this that after classes I go back to the apartment and take five hour angry nap. Group dinner for the building, we have some pretty cool people. MET TWO OF THE RHINOS UPSTAIRS. THEY DID NOT EAT ME. This however made me like them for they seemed okay…

Thursday: ….Changed my mind. New opinion:

Because seriously, who the hell plays loud music at 1:00 AM?!!! ON A THURSDAY/FRIDAY?!!!!!!

Work again, which just went worse. The girl who was my same shift was fine, but the closer? OOooooooh LORDY. Gurl came in, brand new and still wet behind the ears. Not dressed for work or anything. Just a little tiny freshman thang who comes in all cocky and loud. So I was originally inclined to smack her but she grew on me. Like Mold. UNTIL I DISCOVERED SHE COULDN’T MAKE A SMOOTHIE TO SAVE HER LIFE.

So yeah. Our smoothies are super easy by the way. Literally, just follow the instructions that give you ounce and scoop measurements.  They’re usually a bit on the short side, but not much. THIS GIRL MADE AT LEAST FOUR HALF SMOOTHIES AND ONE SMOOTHIE SO BAD I HAD TO REDO IT ENTIRELY. HOW THE ^#$()* DO YOU MESS UP A SMOOTHIE THAT BADLY?????!!!!!

Gerrrr. And she’d just laugh like “Oh, haha isn’t this funny?” And not make any effort to correct it.

ALL THE FACE PALMS.

Oh, and she tried to put the paper we put the sandwiches on with the sandwich through the toaster, which is something I figured she would be smart enough to get without me telling her. Coworker (not new girl) had to stop the machine and yank out the paper which was now the same temperature as the sun out with her bare hands. Well, plastic-y not-latex gloves, but still, those things do NOTHING for temperature. After work, I can’t feel the tips of my fingers for hours. Still can’t, actually, over 24 hours later.

Anyways, work on Thursday was more interesting than just a new idiot I had to train. No, I accidentally got slightly intoxicated at work. Seriously, it was an accident. You see, we have the option for salt and pepper and oil and vinegar. Our vinegar is raspberry (holy shit, did NOT KNOW THAT WAS HOW IT WAS SPELLED. Always thought it was “rasberry.” MY LIFE IS A LIEEEEEEE) something so it’s red. At work, since yours truly is Gluten Free (GF) I often make myself a “salad” in our giant 32 ounce cups because the GF wraps are tiny. Like 100 calorie bite sized. And I may be tiny, but I eat. Just ask my grocery budget. And since I don’t have to buy food (within reason) when I’m working, I eat all I can. Let me repeat: STARVING COLLEGE STUDENT. So I load this thing up and since I learned in Nutrition that vinegar is better than you for oil, I overload on the stuff. Seriously, I overload, there’s usually two standing inches of it at the bottom I chug. So, you see where I’m going? I come to work hungry, then when I make my salad, I overload on what LOOKS like our vinegar. I inhale salad and notice it tastes a bit different, but am not really paying attention.  So I finish my break, and am back to working (maintence stuff: fill turkey, sweep, clean….mainly waiting for the next customer and watching TV) and suddenly I feel super relaxed. Just relaxed and chill. And then everything seems funnier than I know it should be. My voice is louder than it should be. SO I start thinking “WTF IS WRONG WITH MEEEE?!!” Except the actual thought was “Whoa man, this is weird, hahahahaha!”

Yeah.

Then my boss comes out and hold the “vinegar” to me and says “Smell this.” So I do. Because I am “one of the guys” and have a lot of best guy friends and I abide by the smell code. And that? That does not smell like vinegar. Which I think is funny. Because unbeknownst to me, I am the tiniest bit drunk. That is when my boss identifies it as red cooking wine. And then it all makes sense. Fortunately I am somewhat of a hard weight, I may have been buzzed but I wasn’t showing it. If my boss had seen, there’d’ve been some deep shit to wade through. Specifically, “how did our underage employee get drunk at work?!!!” And I hate paperwork. So no to that. Did I mention we’ve been serving this on sandwiches to underage kids? Fortunately, I’m the only person on campus who knows and does the salad thingy. So I’m the one who actually raised my BAC level. Not amused. Soooo very not amused. Now it’s actually hilarious, but to my relaxed mind then, it was a “soooo not cool, man. Don’t know who you are, but I will find you and hang you upside down by your big toe from a Redwood while you wear black spandex and I slap you with week-old dead fish when I start caring about all of this again.”

In this scenario, I am Liam Neeson because Liam Neeson is my generation’s Chuck Norris and ERMAHGERD ITS LIAM NEERSON

So yeah. That was interesting.

Friday: Sleep late. Go to class. Try to go to play for assignment, but it is sold out. Oh, and Sperm Donor (Biological Co-creator) calls (we don’t have a great relationship and he’s been in Afghanistan, he’s home on temporary leave) (not the actual military because that would be Noble.) and oh, guess what? HE’S MOVING TO MY NEIGHBORHOOD. TWO STREETS AWAY. Soooo unamused, ALL THE UNAMUSEDS. I AM SO ANGRY I MISSPELLED UNAMMUSED AT LEAST FOUR TIMES. SEE I DID IT AGAIN!

Let us be clear: I do not have Daddy issues, because my actual Dad is my stepdad. He is the Dad. That is the cocreator. Because even idiot/assholes have good ideas sometimes.

So today’s been pretty crazy. Although I did go grocery shopping and I ate a whole bag of brussel sprouts and now I feel better.

I’ll have more details about the weekend and various other rants soon. If there’s a topic any of you want me to rant about, let me know in the comments

Okay, so I really need to get going, but I’ll go into more details about the whole cocreator scenario and everything that happened today soon, that was a quick recap.

Hope you all have unaccidentally drugged and nonjerk crashing weekends!

Aurora

Or Ask The Grinning Bobcat Why He Grins

So, don’t know if ya’ll have heard, but this loverly Sara over at http://nopurplewalls.wordpress.com/ had her baby! Super excited for two reasons: one, she’s back to blogging and this is one of the three women who inspired me to finally make my own blog. Plus she made me laugh for three minutes straight one time. It was timed. And second: ADORABLE BABY PICTURES. Because I love kids. Kids are ADORABLE. Especially when I don’t have to take care of them. Mainly when I don’t have to. The tiny humans are a handful, and as I already have a hard time managing myself, the addition of one is not likely until waaaaay after I con some poor hopefully not SPM into marrying my handful self. Besides, there’s no 20-almost-21 and pregnant television show so I couldn’t make any money off of it.

If you read and understand math, you might be curious about the other two bloggers who inspired me to get my own. One of them is Laura, She of the Flying Monkeys. ALL HAIL THE MONKEYS. Seriously, this woman is hysterical and I adore her. My uncle jokes that if he was ten years younger, he’d have assasinated J and already be wining and dining her. Laura, he doesn’t actually want to kill J, he just thinks you’re perfect. So check out her blog here : (warning, she curses. I do too, but still.) http://www.fetchmyflyingmonkeys.com/

The last one is my own dear beloved mother. She’s very badass. She mainly blogs about quilting, her unaverage life (face it, I’m one of her daughters, did you think she’d have a normal life?), our six cats and a dog, and gives a seriously awesome book review. I adore her and find all of her jokes to be amazing and while this is technically sucking up, I adore her so GO CHECK THIS OUT: http://bethstrand.wordpress.com/

So these ladies are my inspiration for blogging. Now that I’ve done the shoutouts, I can get down to business to defeat the Huns. Or tell you about my life.

Oh crap, almost forgot: This was the fourth inspiration. All I can say is check out her blog http://seriouslythisreallyhappened.blogspot.com/

So, to catch you up: FRIEND ADORED VASE. ADORED IT. CALLED IT ONE OF THE BEST GIFTS HE’S EVER RECEIVED AND HE DON’T SAY STUFF LIGHTLY. So HIGH FIVES ALL AROUND!!!!

YOU ALL GET BATMOBILES. Just kidding. You get emotional batmobiles. Which is slightly better than a participation trophy. Although you did not spend hours making and obsessing over that vase. Anyways…

This is THE VASE. Not the cows. I wish I made the cows.

So this week has been crazy and I don’t mean “oh, this is a crazy day because I couldn’t get my hair to cooperate or my closet combusted.” If this week was a person, it’d be on American Horror Story. So, let’s recap, starting with last Friday:

Friday: Go home, give Friend vase. Friend adores vase. Watched friend play Dante’s Inferno (I actually love watching people play video games. I can’t play them very well, except Cow Racing on the Wii and Nazi Zombies I am improving on). Went to parent’s home (mine too) and chilled. And slept. Rescued toad from one of the cats.

Saturday: Chill with family. Head back to apartment (about an hour away). Sing like a banshee in the car and dance like I’m having a seizure. This is what I do every time I get in the car, doesn’t matter if I’m driving or if I’m not alone. It happens. My mom usually joins but my little sister (she’s 13) gets embarrassed. Which I love. So I keep doing it. Different friend from home, in celebration of her 2 weeks of summer comes down to go out partying with me and our friends at school. I, still feeling down and having lived in sweats for the past two weeks and having been single for a while decide to wear booty shorts and a tight shirt. I looked DAMN good. Like, DAYUM. If I do say so myself. I needed to wear my hot-girl disguise (Jenna Marbles shout-out).  And I do say I looked good. It paid off too. In probably two and a half hours, got asked to dance by over 10 guys (that was maaaybe an hour in, stopped counting after that), had my ass grabbed (something I thought only happened in movies) three times, and was hit on A LOT. Considering how I’m usually the girl with the oversized glasses and sweatshirts or the one working behind the counter, it was a nice change. And I met a SPM. Not that I actually know if he was, but still. It didn’t go well.

Sunday: Sleeeeeeeeeeep. Chill with friend. Friend leaves. Do homework. Make Dinna.

Monday: Read the play I wrote in Intro to Theater. THEY LOVED IT. Take that, writing peoples. Quilted while listening to rap like an awesome person. B still not feeling great.

Tuesday: Giant five hour nap for me and B. We both slept for a small eternity.  Russian vocal prof yells at me for giving an answer in class (he asked!) and actively ignores me. Screw him, went to work and PLAYED DISNEY PANDORA AND HAD AN AWESOME TIME LIKE A BOSS. B eats soup and sleeps.

Wednesday: In order to get extra credit for said Theater class, auditioned for one of school plays. Did fairly well. If I get cast, I might keel over in shock. Got called into work, but as I was auditioning got it an hour late. Because something is wrong with me and I’m a workaholic, I went in anyways just to hang out. There, we wrote things on the sleeves. Awesome things. Like this:

Can I mention we were bored? We wrote like 50 of them. And these were all my ideas.

B feels like she’s been hit by a truck. I get a headache.

Thursday: Today. Ok, so in my Human Sexuality class (I’m a nursing major and it’s an easy class) we got to see a British video of naked men checking themselves for testicular cancer. So I’ve seen more penises (penisi? peni?) today that a proctologist. Which is saying something. To top things off, I woke up later than I would’ve liked in order to get to this class that is across campus. So I had to make the decision between brushing my teeth and putting on socks. I keep dreaming my teeth are going to fall out so I chose the teeth. So I’m booking it to class and thinking “Dang, this kinda hurts” but dismiss it. Walking back, I was going “Did my quilting pins get in my shoes or something? Cause it feels like tiny gnomes are trying to mine my ankles to get to blood.” Get back to apartment: BLISTERS THE SIZE OF GOLF BALLS. ON BOTH ANKLES. NOT AMUSED. Tried to be good and not pop them. Had lunch. Went to Vocal class, where I swear to GOD until today, this prof hated me. He loves everyone else. This has never happened to me. I was always the teacher’s pet or they at least passively liked me. I put in effort, I’m smart. I may be chaotic, but I know what I’m doing. To backtrack a bit, this prof is Russian and about 6’2″ which to me isn’t tall anymore but still is impressive. He has the Russian mob accent. So today, we’re singing along and he still hates me and suddenly he says, “Okay, raise your hand if this pitch starts feeling straining”. And it hurts my voice like swallowing a porcupine. IT IS HIGHER THAN A KITE AND I COULDN’T GET IT. So I fess up and raise my hand. So does one other girl, kinda. You know, that half-hearted “oooooh, wellllllll, kiiiinda? I don’t want to be noticed though” kinda raise. You know the one, we’ve all done it. Anyways, so he says “You. Sing this.” So I do. He plays other things. He does minor corrections. I sing them better. (I am and always have been a band kid, so the singing thing is kinda new). He looks at me and declares I probably a mezzo and goes on a rant about “Mezzos are rare” and other stories. And all of the sudden, he was nice to me. BECAUSE I’M SPECIAL AND NOT JUST SPECIAL ED. HE LOVES ME BECAUSE MY VOICE IS RARE. TAKE THAT BITCHES. So, having a prof hate you (and on last Thurs, tell me “I know what to do with you” (scared me half to death. I told my mom in case I went missing that my prof did it)) and suddenly not hate you because your voice is special is super bad ass. I LOVE IT. MUWHAHAHAHA HEAR ME LAUGH IN MY SPECIAL VOICE.

Okay, so after classes, went to work. La-dee-da. New kid’s taking the closing shift which starts at 6:00pm. NEW KID DOESN’T SHOW UP TIL 7:40  PM!!!!!!!!!! THE PM IS CAPITALIZED BECAUSE  I AM STILL MAD. And of course, he’s not dressed for work and has not a clue what to do. So my coworker (who was filling in for someone else) gave him the basics and I taught him the rest. SPM (the kid) shows up,  not a clue what to do) and legitimately the first thing I asked him was if he was the guy who was supposed to be working now and he LAUGHS. This muthableeper LAUGHED. I pointed him to the supervisor’s office and said he’s better go talk to them because I couldn’t deal with him because I was about to strangle him. This is what I actually said. Word for word. He turned out to be decent and I’m sure working with him’ll get better. He’s also a freshman. That explained a lot. I also texted my mother and considered asking her to get my credit card number available for bail money. I didn’t want to scare her though. I did tell her I was going to strangle someone though. She was alarmed. And then my phone died. Let’s give my mommy a round of applause for dealing with my neuroticness.

Okay, I feel like you all are sufficiently caught up. This weekend promises to be just as interesting.

Ooooohkay. So, next couple posts will be the adventures of online dating, how to do the vase (I promise I will), the weekend, and a food porn one for…..check out Laura’s blog, you’ll get it then.

Adios!

Aurora