Take my tears...

I have to admire this guy. Manson has really made a name for himself. What I found really weird, he went to Heritage Chritian School. As did I. Seperate schools same name, same hypocrites.

I can see how he was twisted off of religon.

All I can think is he rolls in his money and thinks of the poor stupid fuck ups who made him who he is today.

=)

Bunny Ears & Mental Health

When you think it can get no worse, oh it does.

The best part of anything is really admitting how you feel about the situation, and that it is probably your fault in some way. Its very liberating.

I have been so busy this week with training my replacement. Shes kind, sweet and listens to my rambling quite well, also my random animal muttering.

The problem is, I have worked harder this week than I have in months. I havent been so tired, so completely bagged. The dogs are driving me mental, I dont even yell when I see the bits of teensy little peices of tinfoil stuck in the carpet that cant be vacuumed out. I just keep my insane murderous slipper making thoughts to myself.

I am sad to leave my job. I think of all the things I'll miss, and especially the people. I may have crashed and burned with a few, but most I really have a special place for, and I am sad.
You know what I liked about it, I think I met the nicest people to work with, but like every tree, it comes with rotting fruit. It can ruin the whole experience.

Yet, here is what I mean about taking the fault, and the blame. I LET it get to me. I let someone ruin my time with the evil way they stalk about. Rarely if ever, some very evil people can set the hair on the back of my neck off, to the point its like a fire alarm in my head. They are one of them. I have never met someone so reluctant to be Real. Just themselves. I find it hard personally, but I dont go into every situation defensive or attacking. I can be either but its not the setting you should be placing at work (everyones guilty of this).
Heres the thing, I could have ignored it. I could have said nothing, but Im just not going to lay down and let someone take a piss on my shoes you know? Its not the money, its not the workload (which can be kinda messed up but poof) its their attitude, their complete and open hatred of me. I find it EXTREMELY difficult to not jump on my desk and flip birds like its the last day on earth.

It took me the last 6 months to figure out that its me. I never told them how I REALLY felt, and its my fault. Maybe it could have been resolved? Maybe it could have gotten worse? Who knows. Hmm, nope. It would have gotten worse. Definitely. I have to admit I feel like I have a hex on me when they are around, which could be totally real. Like I said could be anything, but I wouldnt be suprised to find voodoo dolls with shit sticking out of them, which my hair and a peice of my clothes stuck to it.

But what I do know, you shouldnt bring that to work. If you can bring your bullshit into the office, well so can I, Miss Mary Poppins. I will be taking some time to myself to change some things, make time for the furry beasts and trying to find me under this hardened, bitter shell.

I have to also admit I quote Fight Club to myself during the stressful moments (hey we already know Im nuts) all the parts when hes spacing out at work. When he fights himself in his bosses office. "Now we had corporate sponsorship".

"I'll tell you whats on my mind. ITS BUTT COLD OUT HERE AND IM OUTTA BEER!" - Grumpy Old Men. Fuck fuck fuck. I keep typoinging because of my delightful spawn monkey (mothers) laptop from hell. Dear Mother, when you arrive home to find it in the toilet, or perhaps in the litter box, you have no one to blame but yourself!! HA!

I might screw up and go into work on Monday. Wouldnt that be embarassing? ? was secretly hoping to be fired in my last few days, which would be AWESOME. Ok maybe not, but everyone says, what are they gonna do, fire you?

Please? Give me an early demise from this soulless hell of a job. If I never see an office chair and cubicles again, it will be too soon. AND I PERSONALLY THINK THEY SHOULD PUBLISH EXT CONTACT NUMBERS ON THE INTERWEB SO CUSTOMERS DONT GET SO CONFUSED. I ALSO THINK THEY SHOULD REALLY THINK ABOUT WHO WORKS FOR THEM, AND HOW THEY TREAT OTHERS.

I will miss a common animal loving friend whose ears might recover in the future for the lack of my constant chatter with them (haha).
I will miss my zen cubicle buddy, like come on, the monkeys wont have anywhere to go, who will adopt them?
I will miss Catbert, the evil HR director (s).

I will miss so many more, but I cant name them so whats the point?

I need sleep, 2 more sleeps to semi retirement!!

That Hussy, Heather Mills

My previous post was kindve sweet and all about the things we dont think about much.

Blah blah blah.

I was in such a bad mood the last few days, it could have something to do with an over oppressive nazi queen that I have the unfortune of knowing but maybe not.

That dirty little hussy Heather Mills never has and never will deserve the 50 million or almost that she got. She has NERVE to say it still wasnt enough and her daughter 'cant fly first class anymore because her father wont give up more money'. Excuse the fuck out of me? You got WAY WAY WAY more than anyone could even dream of, and your daughter cant fly first class? Like its some kindve tragedy. Ill show you tragedy... after the people of Britain get their hands on her and poke her full of sticks and anything else sharp and pointy. Im kinda thinking she hasnt made any friends in all of this. Not to mention acting like a child and throwing water on Paul McCartneys lawyer.

I have to say few people disgust me this much, and shes one of them. What goes around comes around!

Onward, I knew my last few weeks at work would be strange but not like this. Its almost like some people cant wait to be rid of me, which amuses me because the real true hard reason I gave my notice was 70% to do with them. Im not saying I cant work with people. In fact, from what I gather alot of my coworkers enjoy working with me. Some, not so much but not everyone can like each other.
Except now its a bare tolerance towards some because they obviously are itching to rip my name off my cubicle, which I wont even give them the satisfaction of doing. If you are reading this, I want you to know that you are an awful awful person, in fact, worse than Heather Mills, only because I have the misfortune of having known you and been subject to your childish tantrums. Ive never had a tantrum at work. I get mad, I made scrunchy angry faces and think horrible thoughts in my head, but never let it out. Its called self control and politeness, maybe youd like to try it sometime.
Also rudeness to coworkers is simply just as bad as pissing on a customer shoes.

I need my bed. In fact, I cant wait for the day I can sleep sleep sleep in all the while knowing someone else is miserable waking up to go to the job they seem to hate.

Cats rule. That is all.

PS. Heather Mills is a harpy from hell if you hadnt noticed.

The Quiet Hum

I ran into an old friend from school today at the grocery store. In fact I think I scared her with my "OMG RACHEL!" in the frozen foods section.

I hadn't seen Rachel since the end of highschool and maybe bits in between, but regardless it was still nice to see her.

Rachel is a very sweet sort of girl, quiet and polite. Much like my friend Faye. We chatted in the store, and then I drove her home because she had a ton of groceries. Wherein I was accosted by an angry woman who yelled at me for parking in the fire lane. Now, before anyone else gets mad, EVERYONE parks in the firelane at Safeway, but instead of me circling the parking lot like a buzzard, I park there, and its there for NO reason. At all. It was supposed to be more parking but they made it into a firelane, which amuses me because theres a fire department next door.

Then she has the nerve to continue yelling and write down my plate. Which only made me laugh more. I could understand this if I was parked in handicap. That is by far a much more sinister thing to do, and I hate people who do that.

Onwards, Rachel has chosen to live a simple, quiet humble life, and her cozy apartment is warm and bright and clean. Very cheery. She is moving to Latin America to pursue her dream in helping people and becoming a missions worker. Except not just any missions worker, she explained that most missionary organizations are in fact all about the teachings but not about the actions (which doesnt suprise me) so if she belongs to an organization she cant help street kids because shes told its too dangerous, plus they want her to pay $1000 a month to "help" be a missionary. When she can live off of $300 a month and help as many people as possible.

I have to say I admire her. It just blew me away that she is all about giving and giving more until the day she dies.
She told me "If I spend my whole life living humbly, living so frugaly, and even just 10 street children have a better chance at life, I will know I did the right thing."

Just. Wow. I was blown away by her generousity, her lack of greed and her wholehearted sincerity to helping these kids who have no chance, most die before they even reach 10 or 11. Kids as young as 4 and 5 are left on the streets to fend for themselves.

Dont you feel so lucky to have a warm bed, warm food and a country that has available programs for people to get help? They have nothing. No funding. No help. No one wants them.

I am like pretty every other North American who takes advantage of the life I have, and still wants more. more. MORE. Yet, hearing her story with all of her passion towards HELPING people and giving them a second chance, at the cost of her own comfortable life, was amazing.

Even if she never reads this, and even if everyone thinks Im a nerd for saying it,
Thank you Rachel, for showing me a different view of life. I appreciate it.

Repeat

I hate the way you talk to me
And the way you cut your hair
I hate the way you drive my car
I hate it when you stare

I hate your big dumb combat boots
And the way you read my mind
I hate you so much that it makes me sick
It even makes me ryhme

I hate the way you're always right
I hate it when you lie
I hate it when you make me laugh
Even worse when you make me cry

I hate the way you're not around
And the fact that you didn't call
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

Monopoly Life

Now, I have had a 'Monopoly Life' for quite some time. In fact, Ive had it really really good. Until a year ago, when God decided to take the slightly crappy but mostly easy little sandbox life I had and turned it upside down,
only to find a cat had most definitely shit in it.

That may not really make any sense at all but do I ever make sense? Most likely not and mostly never will.

Moving along! When ranting about my miserable little childhood today that in fact wasnt so miserable as it was not so normal, I realized one of my biggests regrets that I'll have for eternity, was that I just dont listen enough.

I need to listen more, and talk less. Even though I turn anyone I encounter into my personal therapist and have severely disabling ADHD. Its horrible. Im like a squirrel. Eeeeee NUTS!

I was getting pretty attentive for a while and able to concentrate solidly and boom, I'm back to being a rambling lunatic within a relatively short period.
At least I do not drool.
Ew. Drool. Puppies drool. Puppies were also learning how to cook today, if only they'd learn how to pee permanently outside, and were perfect angels forever.

They turned my stove on. My house was full of gas, natural gas you pigs that were thinking something else because I know you were !
Anyways back to my ranting, Im wondering if they are suicidal or just dumb. Perhaps just unlucky and pretty dumb.

I have approx. 13 working days left until my short lived retirement. Not that Ive got it down to the minute or anything. In fact Im kindve sad. I like alot of things about my job, peoples moodswings or sappy icky gooey fake slimey acts arent included, but I will miss a few Really Amazing People.

Life goes on, we grow up and get bigger sandboxes for bigger kitties to poop in. Its true.
You never really grow up...

Im off to Never Never Land!


This is only because I really really liked Heath Ledger, and its my favorite part in a teener movie.

Re-charge

My life consists of waking up at 5 (sometimes 4am), feeding the puppies, walking the puppies and then caging them in a hopeful attempt that MAYBE THIS TIME THEYLL STAY IN THE KITCHEN FOR MORE THAN 15.2 SECONDS.

Instead, no. It doesnt work. They get out, eat the couch, chase the cats, pee in the corner and then eat my chair.
Hard work you know.

Yet I love them. God only knows why. This was sent to me by a friend who loves animals possibly more than me.

Letter to My Animals

Dear Dogs and Cats,

The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note that placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not mean it becomes your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
The stairway is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king-sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm and disrespect.

For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If, by some miracle, I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or stick your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. I have been using the bathroom for years--canine or feline attendance is not mandatory.

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. I cannot stress this enough!
To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door

Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and Always Complain About Our Pets

They live here. You don't.

If you don't want hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. (That's why they call it "fur"niture )
I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.

To you, it's an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter who is short, hairy, walks on all fours, and does not speak clearly.

Remember: Dogs and cats are better than kids because they: eat less, don't ask for money all the time, are easier to train, usually come when called, never drive your car, don't hang out with drug-using friends, don't smoke or drink, don't worry about having to buy the latest fashions, don't wear your clothes, don't need a gazillion dollars for college, and if they get pregnant, you can sell their children.

Maybe You Shouldn't Reproduce

I havent been myself this week and I am unsure of what is going on, or what is wrong.

I brought the puppies into work for a quick visit and everyone seemed to love them and they didnt pee anywhere so it was kinda fun.

Only to hear "maybe you shouldnt own animals."

Errr. My first response was a little explicit in my head, and my second was to laugh it off.

You dont like me, bite me.

Virtual Sexuality - Why I like Brit/Euro Flicks

Ive posted Imogen Heap's song, Come Here Boy, a few times already.

This sounds so lame, but when I owned the Brit flick, Virtual Sexuality on VHS I would rewind it just so I could listen to this song, over and over.

Virtual Sexuality is not a porn. Its about a girl, who is frustrated with the lack of suitable guys to date, left with a nerdy "anarach" lover (computer geek) guy, and Alex, the pig of the land.
After being stood up at a Virtual Reality fair, she grumpily tours the fair, thinking its only for nerds but she paid so what the hell.

Stepping into a booth, where she could digitally recreate herself and make herself into whatever look she desired, she set to create the 'perfect man'. During a horrible gas explosion, the whole fair is ruined and she emerges from the machine, her perfect man. Totally freaked out, she doesnt know how to change herself back and has to enlist the help of her nerdy friend to do so.

The whole ranting point of this, is that in reality, theres no perfect person, and we can find beauty in ourselves.

Since I know most of you would never watch this flick, it ends out that she simply made a copy of herself without knowing it, and then falls in love with herself. Which is all sorts of weird, but ends pretty good. Her copy is deleted and she goes on to fall in love with her nerd.

Wynand Dafel

Over a month ago, nearly 2 months ago, a guy I went to Highschool with passed away in a car accident in South Africa.

He was from there, and had taken his girlfriend back to visit.

His cousin Hanno, Hanno's girlfriend Tessa, and Wynand were all instantly killed.

The car had flipped (about 17 times, varies from story to story) and had rolled within walking distance of Tessa's home. Her parents heard the crash and came outside to investigate only to find their daughter in the wreck. How horrible for them. My heart hurts so much for the parents. Yes Im sappy, yes Im upset over this. http://www.iol.co.za/index.php?set_id=1&click_id=79&art_id=vn20080108022023413C436233

When only the day before, Jamie and I were looking at his Facebook and she told me he would be coming home in the next few days. I didnt really think much of it, I wasnt close to him but I knew who he was and had worked in the Library with him at school.

His memorial was on Friday and I didnt wish to attend for several reasons. Taking time off work is exceptionally hard right now, and couldnt be done. Second of all, there is alot of drama in and around his death.

I dont want to publish the details, but I really want to add that the way alot of people are acting is Selfish, Rude and they need to give it up and remember, someone Died, Greif and Healing are a personal process may it take you a month or a lifetime to get over.

It suddenly hit me all over again when I started thinking about his girlfriend, Clarissa, someone I dont even know but who lost her boyfriend while visiting halfway across the world. I'd say thats a pretty big blow.

Take the time to appreciate your kids.

Hanno & Tessa

Clarissa & Wynand

Big Spiders, Little Friends

The only reason I named the post what I did, was because I saw part of Eight Legged Freaks, and I. Hate. Spiders.

Ick.

SO.

Im disappointed, frustrated and utterly heartbroken right now. Could I tell you why? Yes I could but I really dont feel like it. In fact I feel like having a Marla-Fight Club-Moment where I pound the shit out of someones head so I could say 'I felt like destroying something beautiful' (ie see - Angelface, Edward Norton, Violence).

Why am I still the only one who gives a fuck about my Grandpa?

Youth Of The Nation - POD

*sigh*