What a day.

Well it actually kind of starts last night, in which after the roommate and I ordered a pizza and said  roommate left for her boyfriend’s house, I decided to have a couple beers and watch Forbidden Zone, the dvd I ordered of it having come in a day prior (It was definitely a trip…worth the price of the entire movie just to see Danny Elfman as Satan).  A couple beers turned into two beers and three mixed drinks… albeit weak mixed drinks. Got decently drunk, but then drank a ton of water because I knew I had to do stuff the next day.

Ended up staying up until like 2:30 in the morning listening to oingo boingo.  And I still fucking woke up for the day at 7:30 in the morning. Dad had originally told me to show up at the old place at 10 am, but I got a text at little after 8am saying I could show up any time.

What he wanted to do was, drive the small moving van he rented to he and mom’s new house, and for me to follow behind him in his new truck (we call it a toy truck because it’s so small) and ugh. I knew I needed to help out, but I hate driving on the interstate (which we only have to do for a little while for this drive, but still). After the initial paranoia, I was pretty calm for the drive, and I actually somewhat enjoyed it because I got to blare one of my favorite oldies stations, and it was replaying a top 40 countdown from 1975.

I mean, I say I was calm, and I mean it in the sense that I didn’t have a shit ton of anxiety, but I was kind of tense for the whole thing. If that makes sense. I was calm but I was still kind of uncomfortable driving a route I’d never actually driven myself (though I’d been along for the ride many times before) and I actually drove out of state for the first time, although it was just to like Praire du Chien  so it’s not like I went on a road trip.

I helped dad unload the moving van, but dad got most of the heavy stuff. Then we went and dropped the moving van off, stopped off briefly at my grandparents’ house (mom said I should probably at least make an appearance). Then he drove back to the old place. I helped mom wash off some shelves and whatnot, then we went out to eat (mexican food… the best) and now I’m here and I’m really exhausted. I did take a shower because I was starting to stress out over nothing and I figured the shower would help me relax.

It’s just weird because, tonight actually was the last time I’ll see the old house. It’s official, I no longer have a house key for that house. That’s why I stayed at the old place for a little bit and helped mom clean some stuff in the kitchen… Because I figured, I should probably help, plus it’d be the last time I’d ever be inside that house.

I mean, like I’ve said ad nauseum in these entries, we’ve lived there for like 13 years, so there will be stuff I miss about living there, but overall I’m really not going to miss the place. I am just so glad I don’t ever have to park in that fucking mud hole of a driveway. I actually flipped off the muddy driveway a few times because it made me feel better. The only thing I’m kind of sad about was there is a cute tiny little pine tree that’s sprouted like right by the back door, and I had half a mind to pull it out and plant it here, but I’m pretty good at killing plants so I decided against it. The only two indoor plants I haven’t killed dead are my bamboo plant, and an orchid plant I got at my workplace like after last christmas (i.e. christmas 2012)

Fuck’s sake, I really need to start winding down… I don’t work until 2 tomorrow, but I still have some sleep debt from last night to catch up on, in addition to being exhausted as fuck from this day. Shit. Even if I got a decent amount of  sleep I was basically busy all day from fricking 9:30 in the morning until about 9pm tonight and I am totally bushed

A quickie.

LOL. As in I work at 1 and I don’t have long to write this entry. DOUBLE ENTENDRE ANYONE?

Ugh. Like I said, I work at 1. I was off yesterday, and I called in the day before that.

Speaking of which. Yesterday, I stopped by the old house to grab more stuff. I had thought that perhaps it’d be my last trip to the old house, but as it stands, I have some stuff there yet, and both the parents will be there (I almost said ‘will be home’… ugh) so, I guess I have to go back. That’s a couple times now I’ve thought it’d be the last time, only to have to go back. Meh. I just want to be done with all this moving shit.

Also, tomorrow, dad’s going to show up to the house early because he needs to like, drop off a moving truck or pick up a car from the repair shop or something. I can’t remember what he said but I have to drive his truck back to the old place, and he’s going to drop me back off here at my house. I honestly can’t remember exactly what the situation was… all I remember is he’s going to be here early tomorrow…like before 8am early. And I work until 7 tonight. Ugh.

I have Saturday off, like I said, so it’s not like I’m staring down 5 days of work in a row or anything, but I am just so sick of that place, and the fucking six hour shifts drag ON and ON during the week because, SURPRISE, the store is clearing out. There’s a ton of shit gone, and during the week people have better things to do than shop at a dying store. Plus, I don’t work Saturday, but I have to go back to the old place and I’m starting to hit that point where I’m starting to be paranoid about gas. I get paid on Monday but it’s only Thursday. I work today and tomorrow, and have to drive all the fucking way back to the old place, and back still. I’m thinking tomorrow I’m going to ask dad if I can borrow ten bucks. I know that after this month, I won’t just be able to ask them shit like that, as they’ll be living two hours away. I know I’ll have to budget for things like that.

Fuck it. I can’t think of shit like that when I have to work shortly. Because not only am I stressing over that, I have to fucking stress over work and put up with the stupid shitty customers and being asked “So when is your last day” at least 30-40 times a day (once I counted all the customers I had in a shift, and it was about 50 something… so I just assume I have an average of 40-50 customers in a day). I know they probably don’t think that basically every other customer before them has asked that, but I get tired of answering the same goddamned questions over and over again.

And honestly the monotony. I hate when there are a ton of customers, because I have social anxiety and want to throw myself in front of a bus every shift, but when there’s nobody in the goddamn store, and there are 3 cashiers… I literally sketched three different drawings two days ago, the last time I worked. I’m bringing my small sketchbook again today because not only is it a weekday, it’s rainy and cold and shitty out. Goddamn. I really don’t want to leave for work. I hate that goddamn place so much. It’s so hard to drag myself there 4-5 days a week, I don’t know how some people work like twelve hour shifts, six days a week, because I would probably literally go insane. I’m insane enough now and I only work 24-30 hours a week.

Ugh. I really need to go. It only takes me about 15 minutes to drive to work if there’s traffic and I don’t hit the green lights, but if I cut the time too short, I get stressed the fuck out. Even though from here it’s a much shorter drive to work. Honestly, if there’s no traffic and I hit all the green lights, it really only takes me 10 minutes…

Ugh. Now I’m just rambling so I don’t have to leave. Fml.



A decent day in.

I called out from work this morning. So did the roommate. PMS always kicks my ass, plus my allergies are adjusting to living with three cats. I also just didn’t feel like sitting through a boring as fuck 6 hour shift, but I wouldn’t have called out just for that. Still, four 6hr shifts this week is fine. If I were still getting scheduled for 4 hour shifts I would have gone but what the fuck. Sometimes you just have to call out.

Both the roommate and I have tomorrow off. The only thing I have to do tomorrow is pick up the last of my stuff from the old place. Only a couple things of mine are still there, plus mom said she left some stuff that she didn’t want so I could look through it and keep what I thought I’d use. I hope my parents left my plants there, because I forgot to bring those the last time I was there. Speaking of which… It will probably be my last time in our old house. The roommate wants to run errands tomorrow too, so we might just both end up going. Who knows. The roommate has a cold and is currently napping, which is why I’m not doing anything that makes too much noise, like the dishes or tidying up or whatever. That’s one excuse, anyway.

I don’t really have much else than that to write about… I don’t know. I know I’m a broken record here, but this whole move still seems so bizarre. I’ve adjusted to living here fairly well, but sometimes when I stop and think for a moment, it still feels like I’m a guest here. When I picture “my room” I still think of how my room looked at the old place.

Honestly I have nothing else I want to talk about except my current favorite band and I’ve already fangirled about them PLENTY here. I think I’m going to work on some art or something… I’ve already played way too much skyrim today anyway

mood swings can fuck off

Honestly. I don’t really have any other reason for writing this than I’m having some really irritating pms mood swings. And I’m trying to ignore my cramps, that aren’t as bad as they usually are but they’re threatening to get worse.

I’m back in one of these goddamned depressed mood swings. Like, being envious of someone else’s amazing experiences, and then my fucking mood swings are like “That would never happen to you, you live in fucking podunk Iowa, nothing ever fucking happens in Iowa… all the cool shit happens in like New York or California or something.”

Even though the weather should start getting nicer soon, I’m still just tired of Iowa. And like, shit. I’m gonna be here for a while. I just moved into this place. And when roommate #1 moves out, and roommate #2 moves in… roommate #2 is going to be here for at least two years. Which is a good thing, because I had been worrying about how long roommate #2 was going to be here, but I’m just kinda bummed out for no reason.

Like, I don’t want to shit all over my friend’s rocking good time she had last night, because honestly, it’s amazing as hell who she met and the night she had, but I’m sitting here going “Well fuck, that’d never happen to me.”. I had some awesome experiences, with meeting Howard Jones, and then Thomas Dolby, but her experience was way more amazing than mine were. It’s not competition or anything like that, I’m just so jealous.

I mean, I don’t want to downplay the experiences I had (because honestly sometimes I still freak out about meeting Thomas Dolby)… I’m super happy that my friend got to do all that stuff, I just wish I could have been there too,  and it’s really bumming me out because I live all the goddamn way out in Iowa, where shit like that doesn’t happen. Honestly, unless anyone I want to see is as close as Minneapolis, there’s no way in hell I could ever dream of being able to afford to go. I could barely afford Minneapolis at this point.

Most of this is just my pms mood swing talking because before stupid pms started I actually did feel okay but now I’m just all depressed and shit.

I thought this was going to help but now I’m just thinking of more reasons to be depressed.

I guess when certain actors or musicians’ work has been influential or important to me, I want to meet them SO BAD to be able to tell them (like I did with Dolby) that I just get really bummed out that I’ll probably never meet them.

And honestly, if the Dolby stuff was going on right now, there’s no way in hell I’d be able to afford it. Or I’d just barely be able to, but I’d literally be eating ramen at every meal for like a month. I guess it’s just the reality of this move and everything hitting me. I don’t have my parents to fall back on if I fuck up, it’ll be squarely on me, and we all saw how well that worked the last time my car fucked up. I’m just so poor. I literally have no money to fall back on if any of those expensive life events happen. I don’t even have a bank account, and when my pay card (how I get paid from work, works like a debit) expires in August, I won’t even have a debit card. I imagine I’ll have set up a checking account somewhere by then, but it’s just like, fuck, I’ve never had to consider all this adult shit before. And I mean, I have overall been happy being moved out of my parents house, I just miss not having to worry about all this stuff.

But I mean, shit, in 3 years I’ll be thirty fucking years old, so it’s about damn time.

God. I don’t want to be 30. I’m fucking getting old. Before I know it I’ll be sitting in the goddamn nursing home pissing in my depends, waiting to die.

I guess the main reason I’m afraid to get old is that, once my age starts showing, it’ll all be over. Suddenly it won’t be socially acceptable for me to piss my life away on the internet… it’ll just be creepy. It won’t be okay that I go see animated movies in the theatre by myself… people will just think it’s creepy. It won’t be okay for me to have posters and shit on my bedroom walls, it’ll just be creepy because I’ll be a goddamn adult with fucking wrinkles all over my face and grey hair, if I even have any left on my head by then.

I don’t know what I’m worried about because people still regularly mistake me for like 18-19 years old, but I’m just worried about how I’m going to handle it when I actually start getting wrinkles and looking old.

But like shit why should I care, most of the celebrities I worship are middle aged and it doesn’t bother me one fucking bit. And christ it’s not like life stops when you hit a certain age. I just don’t want to age. I’m sure everyone has gone through this. The FUCK I’M GETTING OLDER HOW CAN I MAKE IT STOP SO I CAN BE IMMORTAL shit. Well. Maybe not all of that. But the gist of it.

I don’t know, this is how my anxiety/panic disorder/whatever I actually fucking have works. I see one mildly inconvenient thing, and then my brain’s like, “But then THIS will happen, and then because of that, something else will happen, then BIGGER thing will happen, and then BIGGER THAN THAT thing will happen, THEN FUCK I’M GONNA DIE thing will happen”.

It’s like I’m paranoid because I’m paranoid. I’m paranoid I’m gonna die, so I stress over it, then because I’m so stressed all the time I’ll probably die when I’m like 35.

See, I’m doing it again.

I thought this was going to help more. I guess it did a little, but I’m still mood swingy and goddamn the tylenol I took did fuck all about these damn cramps.

I don’t remember where I put the ibuprofen I bought so yay, go me. I get to wait four fucking hours for my cramps to go away… which is sometimes how long it takes, even when I have ibuprofen, so it’ll probably be even longer than that. STELLAR.


Bah, or I’m Sick of this Moving BS and I Wish it Were Over With

I’m sore everywhere.

Well, almost everywhere. Bah.

Yesterday, I moved a metric fuckload of my stuff from the old house. In fact, almost all my stuff is now here with me at my new place. Only a few items left at the old place for now, but my parents paid rent through the end of the month so I’m not too worried about it for now.

It’s still pretty weird to think about. After this month, we’re officially out of the house. It won’t be our house anymore, and it won’t be our street anymore. I’m going to miss that street, and actually during the summer when I make trips to the lake (which I’m still going to do, it’ll just be more of a day trip thing) I think I’m still going to take that street, just for the hell of it. Actually, more than anything else, I think I’m going to drive down that street just to see how long it takes the stupid landlord to work on the house. I wouldn’t be surprised if one or two years down the road the house still has two different colors of siding on it.

I’m not going to miss that landlord, or the huge mud pit the driveway currently is (because said landlord won’t pave the driveway), or the way the bathroom door doesn’t close all the way, or how I have to kick the door for it to shut all the way. And I sure as hell won’t miss how cold my room was in that old place. There’s tons of shit I’m not going to miss, but as I’ve previously said, we lived there for 13 years. Like, if a kid was born right when we moved in, they’d now be a teenager. It seems really weird when I put it like that. I did film myself walking through the house. I’m adjusting fairly well to living here, but that place still feels kind of like home… I’m thinking of trying to build that house on the sims or something, so I want to remember what it looks like. Although, for fuck’s sake, I’ve only been living at the new place full time since Feb. 28th, I’m not going to forget overnight.

I also might go through my old flash drives and whatnot and put together an album of photos taken in that house and like post it to facebook or something. Or maybe I’ll make an instagram or something. I do have a smartphone now

There’s a bunch of boxes sitting here in the new place, and I did manage to work on stuff for a couple hours tonight… which is more than I thought I’d do because I was so bushed from work.

I put up a few more posters in my room, and put some glow in the dark stars on my ceiling (I’M AN ADULT, SHUT UP). Since I don’t trust the stepstool my roommate has any farther than I could throw either of them, I’ve been using a chair, and it was stepping off that chair that made my left knee go “HOLD UP JACKASS DON’T DO THAT” and now my goddamn knee really hurts. Like I can still walk but ugh, work tomorrow is going to ROCK.

Speaking of which, I work at 9am, and I would already be in bed, except a friend of mine is seeing a band which several former members of oingo boingo are playing with, and I have to stay up to get her texts, because there’s a good chance she could meet Steve Bartek and I’m so excited for her I could just piss, and I obviously need to hear about her night the second it’s over. Sleep is for chumps. Eh. As long as I get to bed no later than 3am I can still get enough sleep to function at work. I kinda doubt I’ll get anything productive done, so I’ll probably just end up either pissing around on tumblr, playing skyrim, or watching a movie… whatever. Although if I put on a movie I’ve seen a bazillion times I could always kind of half pay attention to it while doing the dishes or something. Meh

Honestly I’m so excited for my friend I just started jumping up and down in my kitchen. Like, I really wish I was there too, but considering how excited I am and I’m not even there, I can’t even imagine what I’d be like if I was actually there. UGH. I mean, she adores this guy probably more than I adore Thomas Dolby and that is saying something.

I’m gonna…. go do stuff. I haven’t decided yet


If I had a word to describe today, it would be that. I think it’s a combination of a lot of things. Mainly, I’m pretty sure it’s nearing that wonderful time I have every month. But I’m pretty sure removing fixtures and kicking up 30 year old dust at work doesn’t help.

Also, it’s just weird watching the place I work slowly empty. I don’t like big empty open spaces, so sometimes it freaks me out.

And, tomorrow, I’m finally going to completely clear out my room at the old place. I have tomorrow off, and Dad’s going to be in town until at least Friday. And I know it’s just a stupid old house, but we’ve lived there for 13 years. If you’d asked me just a few months ago how much longer I thought I’d be living there, I’d have said years.

But I mean, like I’ve said before, everyone had pretty much stagnated, and I was dying to get out of my parents’ house. I guess it’s just weird to be talking about the end of it with an actual time frame, not just that “maybe someday” talk.

It hit me at work today, and I actually asked if I could leave early. Work didn’t start out on the best foot though. I had only been there an hour and I had not only had a customer say “I’m not paying 11 dollars for a teeshirt” while doing the head wobble bitchy attitude thing, and when I asked a customer to repeat her phone number (after she and her companion argued about which phone number they thought her card was under) she said “Geez you’re crabby today”. Sorry, you just rattled off about 4 different digit combinations, how in the shit am I supposed to know which one you meant?

Work let me leave after 3 and a half hours, because honestly, towards the end there, I was on the verge of tears with every single customer and I just couldn’t concentrate. I felt like a piece of shit for leaving early, even though we had enough people coming in and it was pretty dead in there today. But I thought, why should I feel bad about that? I was having mental issues, so I left. They wouldn’t make me work if I was barfing or something, so having a bad mental health day shouldn’t be different.

But there’s all sorts of stigma with that and in a lot of ways, mental problems are still not taken seriously (i.e. you don’t look sick) but whatever. I’m sure I’m a handful to work with, and sometimes I wonder if they talk about me after I leave, but I think that’s just the paranoia talking.

I guess I’m lucky that I usually only get the fuck all bouts of depression when I’m around that time of the month but that sure as hell doesn’t make it any easier to deal with when I’m in them.

I don’t know, I guess today is just one of those days I wish I could start over because I feel like I tripped starting out and just never got back into the swing of things


In some ways, this entire move has felt more like a weird dream than something that’s actually happening. I spent years thinking I’d never even be able to consider moving out of my parents’ house because I would never be able to afford it. Even now that I’m living here, it still seems pretty surreal.

The roommate got the utilities bill, and I guess it’s not until I saw that that it kind of hit me. When my next paycheck comes, it’s going to be the 200 for my portion of the rent, then about 50 for my portion of the utilities. I guess it’s just weird because this is the first time in my life I’ve ever had to worry about this stuff. I guess I just feel like, in many other areas of my life, that I’m super late to the party. Shit, I had a friend of mine whose parents charged her rent beginning when she was 16, which I never thought was right. At least wait until your kid is 18 for fuck’s sake.

I mean, I’ve been getting more hours, so the check should be at least 300, so it’s not like I won’t be able to afford rent or anything. I guess I’m just kind of scared because like I said, I’ve never had to deal with this shit before. I don’t know what I’m so worried about, though. The place I work is slated to close in late April. I can get unemployment after that. Then I’m planning to apply for food stamps. I’ll get my tax return sent in and then that will be waiting for me. So it’s not like I’m just thrown on my ass with nothing, but I’ve never had to worry about this shit before so I guess it’s just kind of scary.

This is going to make me sound like a fangirl, but honestly, when it comes down to this, sometimes the only thing that keeps me from losing it is my music, and for the last few weeks I’ve basically listened to nothing else but oingo boingo. I can’t stress enough that when I started looking up their material in October last year, I had no idea how big of an impact this band would make on me. They’re one of a select few bands that has really kept me going when I went through some interesting times in life. Which is why I want to get the tattoo I discussed here yesterday.

I know I’ll probably never get to meet any of the band members in real life, but I really hope I do at some point so I can say, even in some small way, how much I love the band.

I say never, but I did get to meet Thomas Dolby, which I never thought I’d be able to do, and I did meet Howard Jones… so maybe I don’t know. But come on, these boingo guys are Californians, and how often to I get to California? Never. Except once on a family vacation, far before I knew who the band were and far before I would have been able to appreciate their music.

BAH. Who knows. I’d love to meet any of them, but given the nature of the tattoo I want I would love to meet Danny… of course mr movie composer would be the hardest to get close to, but you never know. 

Wow I did not mean to turn this into a boingo fangirl fest. Oops.

Back on topic I guess.

Even though I know I need the hours at work, I’m really starting to get burnt out on the 6 hour shifts. They feel like they take so long, even though they’re much shorter than most of you have to deal with. I don’t mean to piss off full timers or anything when I complain about 6 hours feeling like an eternity, but to me it does. Especially when my average shift was about 5 hours, before liquidation began.

I’m trying to stay in a better mood at work, and sometimes I can really only do that if I think “Now what if the next customer was related to a celebrity you like, or actually was a celebrity you like, how would you want to treat that person”.

I mean it doesn’t always work, because I am a cynic and like to think I’m the sort of person that doesn’t take bullshit of any kind, but for the past few days I think it’s helped. 

Also a part of my mood is, thinking of the last day I ever have to walk into that store is no longer just a “maybe someday” thought, it’s actually going to happen. I mean, part of it isn’t great because I won’t have a job,but I’m not exactly broken up about it, because I’m not really happy there anyway.

Anyhoo. I work at 10, and it’s currently 8:30, and I would like to zone out for at least a little bit longer before I have to shower and all that jazz.