Friday, 27 February 2009

  • The iPhone is the Devil

    Last night, my friend Paul - whom I've known since the 8th grade and who is coincidentally one of Jason's best friends - came over. After buying himself a new iPhone 3G, Jason sold his old one to him and life ever since has been a little less thrilling. It was cute and maybe even funny the first two times Paul came over and all they did was talk about their phones, how great it is, compare applications (seriously?) - and let's not forget the squealing. Oh my God. Have you ever heard a man squeal in excitement. It's like nothing I've ever heard before.

    I've heard girls squeal, women squeal - and let's admit it, we sound like stuck pigs when we do. But when men do it, it's ... unexplainable. I found myself questioning their masculinity through the night as I watched them giggle and get excited over every little button on their iPhone.

    Do I wish I was exaggerating? God, yes.


    ( Jason needs to shave, whoa)

    Now as I've mentioned, it was cute and questionably funny the first couple of times, but when I found out that Paul came over yesterday just so they could do it again, I found myself -- needless to say, irritated. I'm not one to become annoyed so easily; especially not with Paul, who I've come to regard as a good friend and one of the less annoying from his group of friends (though I think that us being friends during middle school helps a lot) - but last night ... man. The four hours that Paul was over, they did nothing but sit on the couch and play with their phones.

    Get this -- they barely spoke to each other; just plunk plunk plunk ... "I love my iPhone!" ...plunk plunk plunk. Now, I understand the convenience of having an iPhone. It's like a computer in your pocket - but when that takes precedence over everything else, then maybe you need to have that taken away, haha. Honestly, I think that what annoyed me the most was them both screaming in excitement over every little thing. It was unbelievably irritating to hear. Imagine hearing them screaming like girls at two in the morning, and having the neighbors come downstairs to tell them to stop because their four-year old son cannot sleep.

    Yeah. I wanted to tell them to go outside and celebrate there instead.

    The next time Paul comes over, I might find myself conveniently busy at a friend's house.

Wednesday, 25 February 2009

  • Confusion In The Morning

    The time on the microwave this morning read 10:35. That couldn't be right though, and as my face screwed up with confusion, the butter knife that I was using to spread mayonnaise on the sandwich I was making froze in the air as I tried to make sense of everything. It is not 10:35. This time is wrong, I thought to myself as I slowly made the rest of the sandwich. Bread, mayonnaise, lunch meat, tomatoes, and then lettuce. That was the routine that I'd stuck myself to for the past year and a half and if I wanted to be cute, I'd toss in a can of Redbull with that sucker.

    I peered at the clock again. 10:40. I shook my head, then glanced over my shoulder to where the bedroom was. I caught glimpses of Jason's arm as he rummaged through the closet for something to wear to work. At least one of us was working. I glanced between him and the time on the microwave. Then I glanced into the alarm clock in the bedroom. 10:40. Huh? I shook my head. There was something weird going on here. He had work at nine. He usually left the house by eight-thirty to get there on time. He was also never late. Then I thought: Oh man! He's going to freak out. He's going to think that he's late for work!

    "You're not late!" I blurted out, startling him by the look of the little jump he gave at my sudden shout. I stood there for a moment and watched as his arm reappeared, then his shoulder, then his eyes. His eyebrow flew up at me as he stared. I stared back. It didn't look like he was going to say anything to me. "You're not late," I mumbled at him, reaching up with one hand and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes with a fist. Then I pointed to the time on the microwave. "Time's wrong." I watched as his eyes shifted from my face to the clock, then back to me.

    "No it's not," he finally said, poking his entire head out so I can see the puzzled, crooked smile on his face. "I slept in today." At my furrowed eyebrows. "I called my supervisor to let him know." Then he laughed. He laughed because he knew that I was a complete headcase just waking up. He also laughed because I'd been standing there for a few minutes, silently freaking out over the time instead of asking him first.

    "Jerk," I muttered before throwing the balled up empty packet of lunch meat at his head.

Tuesday, 24 February 2009

  • In the presence now

    I told myself that I wouldn't do these online blog things anymore, but I can't seem to stay away from them and they seem to serve a great purpose when I have absolutely nothing else to do. It's almost four o'clock in the morning and Jason and I are still eating dinner. He tends to cook these things past midnight, so maybe I should call them an 'incredibly early breakfast'. Haha -- that was a very poor attempt at a joke. My sense of humor is off-again on-again awesome.

    I've been trying lately, to find a job. Any job. My last one at Hallmark failed miserably because my schedule went as followed: once every two-three weeks. I wish I was exaggerating. So after that humongous fail, I quit and have been looking for one ever since. But with the economy dilemma that's been going on, it's been proven difficult to find anything worth looking into; and with all of the layoffs happening, it's even harder to apply for a job. Especially when everyone else is applying for all the same ones that you are. I don't know what to do. I'm getting a little frustrated with the entire thing but I'm holding fast to hope because that's the only thing I can do. I don't want to give up and throw in the towel. I have to keep hoping that I'm going to find something.

    It's really weird to go from upper middle-class to having to barely make ends meet. I suppose that I expected that to happen when I left my parents' house in search of 'growing up'. I'm not sure if I really knew that that was going to happen. I think that at the time, I was just determined to finally get out from beneath my dad's thumb. However, now that I'm out of there, I'm learning (the hard way) what it's like to make a living. Staying at my boyfriend's, I know that it could have been worse, but yet I find myself being materialistic enough to miss that little lap of luxury that I had compared to what I have now. But I'm not complaining. I'm grateful that I have a roof over my head and someone who cares enough to want to take care of me.

    I do miss the luxury of going shopping and getting whatever it was that struck my fancy though. Doesn't that make me sound a little snotty? Haha, I'm really not spoiled though.

    I really hope to go back to school soon. I really miss being in class and hanging out with my classmates and making new friends each month. Mostly, I miss the studying and the satisfied feeling that I'd get whenever I actually 'got' something. I never thought I'd say that. Crazy.

blackfairytale

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    • Name: blackfairytale
    • Gender: Female
    • Member Since: 2/23/2009

About Me

  • I'm that person with the two left feet and hands that knock over anything within arms' reach. I bump into glass doors, trip over invisible objects, and hurt myself on accident more times in one day than anyone should. I am nerdy, dorky and goofy and more things that end with a -y adjective.

Pulse

  • Being stuck in the middle between two friends who want to rip each other's throats out is not fun whatsoever.
  • A bird just flew right into the window and cracked the glass! ... That's the last time I'm making the back door squeaky clean again.
  • My friend is screaming sporatically at his iPhone. Apparently his checkers game is giving him a mild stroke.