whiski_sour: (dreamy Alex)
I've got all of my ducks in a row (I hope) for Casino Night tomorrow night. Thanks to my awesome friend Harry who's going with me, I'll be able to spend the night there and not have to worry about driving home right after the party. I will still be driving in Chicago, which I hate and have serious anxiety about, but I know in the end it will be better than what I make it out to be and I will survive it and that's what counts.

This is going to be my Cinderella night.

You see these tickets go for $175 a piece ($500 a piece for the VIP tickets). No way could I afford to go. I've never been able to afford to go. I'm going because I won these tickets. Technically, I don't belong there. But like Cinderella, I had a bit of a Fairy Godmother thing going, what with the winning and Harry helping me out by putting me up and already having the dress, so I get to head to the ball.

For one night, I get to pretend I'm not about to max out my credit card. I get to pretend that my ability to sell my stories and my jewelry isn't an abysmal failure. I get to pretend that I don't keep making stupid mistakes. For one night, I get to dress up and be pretty and gamble fake money and maybe exchange a few words with a player or two and pretend for one night that everything is bippity boppity boo before returning the reality of trying to clean up the mess that is my current existence.

I don't deserve that one night reprieve, but I'm going to take it and enjoy it as much as I can. It'll be the last one I get like that for a long time.

The pain from wearing heels for several hours will be worth it.

To be fair, I did get a very nice, pretty comfortable pair of heels. But you can't fight physics. 235 pounds in 3 inch heels when it's the first time you've warn heels in quite a while pretty much guarantees inevitable pain, despite steps taken to avoid it (gel cushion inserts, wearing them to break them in, wearing them to get used to them, etc.). The one bright spot, though, is that they don't seem to effect my jacked up knee too much, so that's something.
whiski_sour: (fucked your shit up)
I know my way around a car pretty well. It was one of those things I had to learn growing up. And since I've owned nothing but older, junkier cars, I've ended up doing some pretty fun things in order to get them to run, including:

-Priming the carburetor with gas.

-Crawling under the car to jiggle the starter wire.

-Sticking a screwdriver into an intake valve.

Today I get to add smacking the alternator with a hammer. Something in it was sticking and needed to be loosened.

What's fun about all this is that for all I know about cars, I still manage to screw up the simplest things. I've messed up reattaching a review mirror not once, but twice. And today, I put in the wrong washing fluid (it was for the power washer). In my defense, the wrong stuff was in the washing fluid place in the garage and it does say washing fluid on it.

Yes, maybe I should have read the label a little more closely, but I maintain that it shouldn't have been in the washing fluid place. I do not understand Dad's filing system, so these mistakes are bound to be made when you mess up with the few things I do know.

I'm just saying.
whiski_sour: (*headdesk*)
Today has been a tangle of fail.

I went to the eye doctor for the first time in four years for an exam to get new contacts. After being told that I'd have to start using disposables, I was then told the cheapest they had was 157 bucks for a year.

Now let me get this straight. You want me to pay 157 dollars for something that I'm supposed to throw away after a month. I'm having trouble following your logic on this one, eye people.

After balking at the price, the doctor offered me a "free" pair to wear for a week while I thought about it. I don't know if she thought this "free" pair would help me see the 157 dollars I need to buy a year's supply or what, but I took them and I have an appointment to go back next week to haggle.

Why do I keep putting "free" in quotation marks? Because she said they were free, yet I was charged 30 bucks for them on my receipt. Awesome.

Yeah, I think I'm going to follow Carrie's advice about trying to get a six month supply (which should be about 60 bucks cheaper) and then I'll be going somewhere else from now on.

In other news, it's slowly dawned on me that I didn't really think things through with this whole jewelry thing. As is common with me, I thought bigger than I was capable for, so now I'm having to go back and make some fixes. It's not a huge deal (yet), but an aggravating one to say the least, and not something I wanted to spend my afternoon untangling.

So in conclusion, it was just like a typical Thursday in the cube except I wasn't in the cube and I was the root of most of my problems today.

At least next week I'll be prepared for Thursday.
whiski_sour: (marshmellow stupid)
I went to Target last night to get a couple of shelves, the idea being I could put a few of my pictures on one and my baseballs and prized cards on the other. I ended up getting what I was looking for and a hula hoop.

I know right? What? Hula hoop?

Yeah, hula hoop. This is going into my exercise routine and I'm going to master this sucker. I don't know why at 31 I have this urge to be good at hula hooping, but I do and there you go.

I hung the shelves today. I didn't do a horrible job, though one is definitely crooked, despite my use of the level, which I dropped behind my DVD shelves after I lined up the second shelf. It's not too bad, but yeah, I'm going to get shit for it not being level.

The stuff on the shelves looks nice though and it looks good in my room.

I've spend the day cleaning/purging/rearranging/fixing and I've got just a couple of more things to do before I can call it all done for the day.

Then I get to do two blog posts, some revisions, and hopefully have time to paint my nails.

My weekends aren't long enough.
whiski_sour: (up to no good)
I hope all of the Dads are enjoying their day today.

I bought my dad a Cubs shirt. It came in the mail Friday and I gave it to him then because I was having a bad day. Then I announced I wasn't making dinner. Because I'm a good daughter like that.

Speaking of being a good daughter, I finally got my mom something for Mother's Day. Now it's just a matter of getting it to her.

Yeah, I'm not about to win any good child awards.
whiski_sour: (Groove)
Yesterday, I went to lunch with the ladies in the metal office. Between them and me (the lone girl in the transport company office), there are six of us. I've never worked at a place where the women were so outnumbered.

We went to a local tea house which is in an actual Victorian house. It's quite fancy. Even though I was in my good clothes, I felt terribly under dressed. I also felt like I didn't have the manners or breeding to be there, either. The food was good, though. And they have the neatest gift shop upstairs. I had a good time.

Fridays are fun because the drivers are all ending their trips for the weekend, so we've got a flow extra guys in the office. We have a driver named Stephen. It's always sunny in Stephen's world. Stephen is going to Mexico for vacation, the lucky bastard. Despite the thousands of miles he's logged on the road, he hasn't flown since 1987.

So he was asking us about security and whatnot. Several questions had to do with checked luggage and bomb sniffing dogs.

The whole time I'm thinking, "What are you putting in your luggage, Stephen?"

With Stephen, it's hard to tell. He probably wants to take his guitar with him. Or his unicycle. Or both.

Not kidding. He has both.

Albert leaves at four. Today, Chad left at four, too, leaving me to hold down the fort for half an hour. All was going smoothly until about five minutes before I was supposed to leave. One of our drivers, Marvin, called me. Albert had forgot to dispatch his next trip and he asked me if I could do it.

I'd never done it before (I'd been shown once), so I figured I'd give it a go. I found his trip, went to dispatch it, and it said that his current trip wasn't finished. Marvin told me that Albert dispatched new trips like that all the time, but since I hadn't done it before, I wasn't sure.

Marvin was nice about it. He offered to call Albert, tell him off for slacking, and have him call me and make sure I got it right. I hung up and told Ken that I was on overtime now. Kent laughed.

(Side note: it's very odd having conversations with all of those cubicles because it's all just disembodied voices. I'm still getting used to it.)

Albert called a minute later and assured me that it was okay to dispatch a trip that way. It was just a warning. So I did. Then he told me to check the dispatch. Apparently, it worked. I took a few extra minutes to wrap things up, but no one called back. I imagine I'll be getting some shit from Albert for it. Good natured shit, but shit nonetheless.

It'll be good times.
whiski_sour: (Busted!)
So I have a job interview on Monday. It's for a gig working in the office of a transportation company here in town. Living in the middle of nowhere, it's hard to find a gig with minimal commute time, but this is a good shot.

I do have one problem, though. Because of that despicable weight gain last year and my inability to lose much of it, I'm not sure I have any nice pants that fit. To be fair, I don't typically dress well to sit in front of my computer and pound out stories (while running my mouth on Twitter and playing games on Facebook) so I can't say for sure whether or not they all don't fit. But I'll be surprised if any of them do.

*sighs* My butt really needs to get smaller. I wish it wasn't so resistent to all of the exercising and vegetables.
whiski_sour: (yay!)
Happy belated birthday to [livejournal.com profile] jackiesjunkie! I hope you had a great day and I'm sorry I wasn't more timely with my wishes.
whiski_sour: (Where's mah brain? (_hellfire))
I actually had something I wanted to post today, but I put it off.

Now, I can't remember what it was I wanted to post.

I should have known better. I forgot what I wanted to google in the time it took for me to pull up the website.

I remembered it eventually, but I don't feel like putting out that kind of effort again.

Maybe tomorrow.
whiski_sour: (perturbed)
Due to lack of funds, I can't send out holiday cards this year. It bums me out because I really love doing it. I love spreading holiday cheer...and glitter.

But know that I still love you all and I still wish you happy holidays, just not in card form.

Let's hope Santa brings me a job this year so I can make up for it next year.
whiski_sour: (bigger gun)
I've been sporadically applying for jobs as they appear, either online or sending in resumes.

Of the ones online, they usually have some assessment portion that includes "what would you do" multiple choice questions. Sadly "roll eyes", "get snarky", and "smack a bitch" are never answers.

And, of course, they have to have those strongly agree to strongly disagree scales which are just not grand enough to fully encapsulate my full range of agreeability. Also, some of the questions they ask do not lend well to agreeability and I find that questionable.

Tonight, as I uploaded my resume and then retyped my job history, as so many of these places have you do (and half of the time fill out another application if you go in for an interview just to make sure your story holds up), I wondered if my problem with getting an interview is that my prospective employers look at my extensive employement history with WalMart like one views the rap sheet of a career felon. And not just a run of the mill felon either. We're talking Sing Sing, Alcatraz, Marion Super Max felon.

Boss 1: She have any retail experience?
Boss 2: WalMart.
Both cringe.
Boss 1: How much time?
Boss 2: 3 times. Last stint was 2 and a half years.
Boss 1: How long has she been out?
Boss 2: Almost 3 years?
Boss 1: Not long enough.
Boss 2: *throws away application*

I'm just lucky the WalMart lifers didn't get together and tattoo "Rollback" on my ass, I suppose.
whiski_sour: (what the shit is this?)
It's not secret that I'm a more interesting person when I'm sleeping. A couple of nights ago I was bitten repeatedly by a spider. I'm guessing it was while I slept because I didn't feel it. And actually, they bites didn't start bothering me until yesterday when they started getting itchy. I've got a line of about five or six of them on my right shoulder, bright red welts. It's really sexy.

Aside from the spiders, I really haven't been sleeping well lately. I'm having trouble falling asleep and once I do fall asleep, I can't stay asleep. There's a lot of tossing and turning going on. Last night, I decided to take it to the next level.

I'd been asleep maybe forty-five minutes when I woke up to pee. Yeah, I really appreciated that. So, half-asleep, I threw back the covers, stood up, took one step, and collapsed. My left knee gave out on me. Once I hit the ground, the pins and needles started. Yeah, my knee was asleep and I didn't realize it. I crawled back to bed and waited a few minutes before I tried it again. I made it to the bathroom safely, but my knee felt weird all night and kept waking me up. It still feels weird. It doesn't hurt; it just feels weak.

Of course, that could be just because I feel like shit overall today.
whiski_sour: (death note)
I decided to buy a Lotto ticket today. Why not? It's not a huge jackpot, but it's more money than I have. I don't want to be greedy. And I'd put it to good use.

I'm hoping the Universe is listening.

Anyway, I stopped by Big D's, my local drive-thru liquor and milk store (no lie...it's mostly liquor, but it also has the grocery basics...and shirts with the town name on it if you really want to advertise) to pick up my ticket because Big D's has a reputation for selling a lot of winning tickets. The woman who waited on me was old enough to be my grandma (in my family, probably my great-grandma).

She called me ma'am.

I'd say it's official. My days of getting carded are over.

And my eye cream is clearly not working.
whiski_sour: (Fishy people)
I've got several friends over on the Facebook that I went to school with back in the day. A couple of them I barely remember and a few I don't know why they friended me because they were more my sister's friends than mine and I didn't even know they knew me.

One of those latter type friends messaged me during my great Internet outage. I finally got back to him (after I remembered who he was; he changed his last name for some reason, but when he told me his old last name, I remembered him...sort of) and we messaged back and forth a bit. And then he asked me if I had ever been married or was dating anyone.

So I got Carrie involved because that question confused me. I mean I know I've never been married and I know I'm not dating anyone, but why does he want to know?

Carrie explained that since he's my age and recently divorced, he's probably fishing to get back into the dating game. And I started whining "Why me?" because really, why me? If we had interacted more back in school, maybe I could see it, but I don't even remember hanging out with him much. (And I have resisted the urge to text my sister and ask her if I hung out with him via her because that happened a lot in high school. I think she's sick of me asking her why I know these people that friend me.)

After some discussion, I answered him. He asked why I was single. I asked Carrie if he thought he was doing an expose for Hermit's Magazine. Whaddya mean, why?

Again more discussion. Again, I answered him. I told him I'd taken myself out of the dating scene a few years ago (true) and that it wasn't a real high priority for me right now (sort of true; better than saying I'm lazy). Then I switched the topic.

He followed my switch, let my single status go, and I thought we were done.

Then he asked if I got up to Bloomington much and I realized that he hadn't given up. So once again I answered him honestly and told him that I get up there occasionally because I've got family up there.

And then he said that we should get a drink sometime? The question mark was his, not mine.

So, I said, yeah, maybe sometime.

And I've not heard from him since. Apparently, kinda sorta saying yes, but not really committing to anything was just too much for him. Or it was a turn off. I don't know.

I'm just glad this all played out online and not in person. Trust me, I am waaaaaaay worse in person than I am online. At least online I can get a second opinion before I commit to making an ass of myself.
whiski_sour: (death note)
Still no Internet. The company that was supposed to hook us up yesterday couldn't hook us up. Couldn't be done. So, we were left high and dry. We're trying another company now, but there's no word on when (if?) we'll get hooked up.

So, yeah. The bad luck from June continues into July. Terrific.

I've been posting to Twitter via text, so if you want to keep up with my bland daily life (and updates on when I'm getting Interwebs), you can follow me over there. I'm KikiWrites.

In other news, the neighbors were playing music in their garage last night, which usually bugs me because they have questionable taste, but last night, I really enjoyed the selection. Like I told Carrie, they were playing songs that I hadn't heard since college.

Second round of college, to be precise.

When you've been three times over the span of a decade, it's good to pinpoint which round when using it in relation to time. I'm just saying.
whiski_sour: (scream)
I don't know what it is about June that makes my laptop crash and burn, but there you go.

Yeah, the Tiki Idol has crashed again and I'm not very optimistic about its future at this point. Even if it can be saved, I might end up trying to hurl it into space anyway.

So, I'm going to be a little scarce for awhile. I feel that this move is best considering I keep going back and forth between wanting to flip a car and bursting into tears.

In review of the events of the past month or so, I'd say my life is turning into a poorly written country song.

And that's a bitch, folks. That's a bitch.
whiski_sour: (vrooom!)
I know I'm not nearly as well-read as I should be, but this book meme makes me look worse. In truth, I tend to gravitate toward nonfiction more than fiction. And when it comes to fiction, frankly, I like my books like I like my movies and TV shows: with absolutely no redeeming quality whatsoever.

Shall we?

BBC says that on average, people have read 7 books on this list. )
whiski_sour: (*eyeroll*)
I was struggling to come up with something to do a journal entry on and then I remembered that I don't have to do a journal entry every day anymore.

I never fail to impress myself with my own dipshittery.

I should have asked Santa for a new brain. The warranty is clearly up on this one and the duct tape just isn't holding anymore.

Yeesh.
whiski_sour: (goddess)
So, I put my laundry in the washer at about one this afternoon.

I remembered at 5:30 that I hadn't hung it up (we have no dryer; we hang our laundry either on a line in the basement or on the line outside).

At 8:00 I remembered that I still had forgot to hang up that same load of laundry at 5:30.

So I ran it through the washer again since it had been sitting and this time, I remembered to hang it up.

Eight hours. One load of laundry.

Yeah, I won't be winning any domestic goddess awards any time soon.
whiski_sour: (strained)
I've spent all day playing catch up and I think I'm pretty much there. I'm pretty sure that I can get the rest of what I need to get done over the next few days.

I knew I should have started this holiday stuff sooner. I do this every year, but it's always worse during the years that I end up making gifts. I know what I need to do and I'm always like, "yeah, I'll get to that this weekend" and then suddenly it's the weekend before Christmas and I'm scrambling.

At this point, it's like tradition to be pulling my hair out and cursing my own existance before the holidays. I'm not hair pulling at the moment, but I am cursing.

It's like a my own crass Christmas carol.

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Cheshyre

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