June 26, 2006
I'm going to be a horrible parent. I also want to teach English in a foreign country for a couple years, and I already know that I'll be horrible at that, too.
I had to yell at someone at camp today. I didn't want to. I even tried to cool down before I tracked him down because I wanted to make sure my anger was valid. I think it was, but I still feel awful. And I just remembered that it's his birthday today. Wonderful.
He shredded a handwritten document that was semi-important, but it could be replicated. I was really busy with a deadline, and I had asked him not to do it and he snickered and did it anyway. Probably not a big deal, but the guy is 19 and is supposed to be a Helper, not a Giver Of Extra Work.
You know how when you were little and you got lost in a store and when your mom finally found you, she yelled at you? It's sort of like that. Well, not really. Your mother scolds you because she was afraid, or in this case, hurt that you would be so irresponsible when she just told you to stay with her.
I was upset that in the midst of all the stress that everyone's going through, one more thing is added to the workload. Whatever. I guess the problem doesn't matter. My big problem is that when I get hurt, I go for the jugular. It gets me in a lot of long arguments with my friends and family, but when I get hurt, my knee-jerk reaction is to hurt that person so much, they have no choice but to apologize to me now that they see what hurt feels like.
Yeah, real life doesn't so much work that way. But if life were a sitcom, like it is in my head, my insults totally would have gotten one of those "Oooooh!"s from the studio audience.
So I flipped on this poor guy and now I'm regretting it, but another part of me is wondering what I could have done differently. I could have ignored it, passively let him know that his actions are okay, and not been called a bitch behind my back as I'm fairly sure I have been. I could have calmly told him that I disagreed with his actions, which I usually do and which obviously doesn't take, but still, I would have hopefully avoided being thought of as a bitch.
I've been yelled at by teachers before. I've been yelled at by my parents for taking a joke too far and not knowing when to quit, and I remember the embarrassment and shame I felt, which I always assumed is why I stopped doing those things. I also knew that I had done something wrong. When I confronted this guy, he made me feel like I was overreacting and being ridiculous. You know -- how most guys make girls feel...
I don't know. This is why I'd hate to be a boss at work. Everyone would hate me, even if I had to do a little mandatory scolding. No one ever admits that their way is wrong. Or, in the case of jobs, they pretend to admit that their way was wrong, then badmouth the boss behind their back.
I know one of his friends will probably find this, but I just had to get my side off my chest. Maybe this way I can passive-aggressively let him know how sorry I am for what happened, but that I don't know what else I could have done.
I've been reading a lot of Calvin and Hobbes while at my parents' house, and there are a few strips where Calvin does something monsterey and his mother warns him that he's going to have a kid just like he is. Then he retorts that his grandmother mentioned saying the same thing to her when she was a monsterey kid.
I don't look forward to going in tomorrow and feeling awkward and ashamed that I stood up for my own hurt, even if the offense didn't seem like a big deal, and even if I am likely being thought of as the Hugest Bitch in all of Bitchdom. I shouldn't have said some things I said, and I guess my shame will be my penance for that. I guess, unlike television, in real life, both sides can be wrong and feel bad. But like television, I'm less wrong, really hot, and I get lots of laughter and applause breaks. In my head.
June 16, 2006
A couple years ago, I informed my theater camp that there was something called a computer and the internet and if they could use them, they could benefit from the efficiency. So I threw together a website and taught my mom how to use a contact list to mass email, and we were well on our way to having hundreds of parents inform us that they couldn't open up the website in Word and could we possibly send it as an attachment.
This taught me a valuable lesson about adults, which is that, for the most part, they are idiots. See, I wasn't raised on a computer like the kids these days who won't get off of my lawn. We got our first home computer when I was 13, and I learned everything about them at the same time as the rest of my family. I didn't take wussy "keyboarding" classes or anything useful like that. The extent of my computer knowledge was writing a program in DOS in the third grade which made a "turtle" (a triangle) move around with a line behind him. I have not since used that program or even heard anyone else talk about it, but the teachers ground it into our heads with such intensity that I was sure NASA used the same program to guide rocketships to space.
The point is, I taught myself everything I know, and I was exposed to computers as much as anyone else in the middle class would be. So I guess I give everyone else in the world too much credit when I assume that they have mastered the double-click.
And it irritates me that someone will show me a program I've never seen and not only expect me to have it memorized, but also assume that I am incorrect.
Otherwise Intelligent Person: How do I save this as a jpeg?
Lauren: Well, try going to File > Save As...
OIP: Maybe it's in View, since I want to view the file after I save it.
Now, do I want to save this as an OCJ?
Lauren: I thought you said you wanted a jpeg.
OIP: Well, it's asking me if I want it as an OCJ, and I don't know what that is.
Lauren: Neither do I, so why don't you just choose jpeg?
OIP: *scoffs* I thought you knew about computers.
One of my current favorite pastimes is reading through the emails in my mother's contact list and deciding which people are reasonably intelligent. I'm about to offend a lot of my readers, huh?
*@gmail.com -- Me
*@< corporateaddress >.com -- Likely Moderately Intelligent
*@hotmail.com -- Was Moderately Intelligent until Gmail Came Out
*@yahoo.com -- Not Intelligent Enough to Understand Better Available Email Options
*@comcast.net -- Housewife
*@aol.com -- Moron
*@yahoo.net -- Really Big Moron
Now, I see a lot of emails of you folks who leave comments, and I don't mean to offend you. I've owned all of these accounts myself (except the last two), and it's my opinion that gmail works the best and is the most intuitive and user-friendly. But you read this site, so you've obviously reached my standards for intelligence.
The point is that adults are dummies, and if I can teach myself how to interweb, anyone else can, too.
June 14, 2006
So, I opened myself up to months of sorting out health insurance problems by going to my old home doctor under my new insurance. They said it would be fine, but that is their favorite lie.
I didn't go to camp today, which sucks, but I didn't want to be a disease vector for all the innocent kids.
The nurse at my doctor's office asked me if I had been anywhere where I might have caught something contageous. Well, that's kind of a stupid question.
I could have caught it anywhere. I was just on a plane. I saw my best friend's nephew, and he had the sniffles. I touch doors to open them. What kind of question is that? What, do they usually only treat agoraphobics?
Is she asking if I root through the trash and lick all the dirty McDonald's cups? No. Do I open public restroom doors with my teeth? Not recently.
Ah, well. I'm getting back into bed. I'm pushing on my sinus cavities, and it's making a gurgling noise no one's face should make. Drink your orange juice, everyone!
June 12, 2006
Hey, guys, I'm at PAC again this year, which means I'm spending a month in Pittsburgh, which means I will have less time than usual to spend on all things internet.
I will continue to update, but it might be just bite-sized morsels like this.
Stupidest Thing I've Said Today:
"Mom, I can't fix your printer. Who do I look like -- Bill Jobs?"
June 05, 2006
Whenever I'm in an awkward situation, I burst out laughing.
When I'm in a situation where someone is being pushy or extremely outgoing, I burst out laughing.
One time I was at the Burger King drive-thru, and I ordered my meal, only I forgot to specify a part of my order. You know, I wanted it my way. When I got to the window, before paying mind you, I said, "I'm sorry, I wanted a milkshake instead of a drink. Can I still replace it?"
Napoleon Dynamite behind the counter says, in complete seriousness, "You could have, but you missed your chance!" I couldn't contain myself, and I busted out laughing. It probably would have been a little awkward, so I'm glad that's my knee-jerk reaction.
I was at dinner the other night with Melissa, Traci, and Laura, all of which are hot chicks, but Laura is stop-traffic gorgeous. Our waiter was reduced to the drooling pit of testosterone that all males are and would NOT leave the table. Here we were, trying to eat, trying to chat. Hell, we're four girls at a table -- I'm sure we were trying to talk about periods and the cutest boys. And here comes Loser McChotchkie's, magnetized to our table, doing (crappy) soccer tricks with our napkins and making lame jokes about our cheesy fries.
I tried to be polite at first. I came late to dinner, and the three girls had been putting up with this guy for the previous half hour and were pretty sick of him. So after I got my order, I half wondered why I was the only one willing to make eye-contact with him. I did want him to leave me alone, but I pretty much want everyone to leave me alone and I fake it so I don't look like a bitch or get cheese spit fries. When he didn't leave for the better part of 10 minutes, it started to get pretty funny that A) He was obviously hanging around to get Laura to notice him, and B) Not only was Laura not even acknowledging his presence, now both Traci and Melissa were pointedly facing the other direction, which was a wall. And I was laughing hysterically at this poor guy.
I felt bad, but we were sort of in a place of eating, and our bringer of food was sort of not allowing us to do so.
Amusing side note: my friends and I don't actually talk about periods, however, I *did* have this amusing interaction with Melissa after thinking she said the word "borscht," which is a beet-based Russian soup.
Me: Ew, borscht!
Melissa: I didn't say "borsht," I said "abortion."
Me: Oh, that I'm fine with.
I'm saying all this because Justin is currently shopping for a car, and I have been laughing in people's faces a lot lately. I know it's a punchline and a stereotype for a reason, but I still cannot believe how pushy car salesmen are. I sometimes can't believe how stern Justin is in not taking their shit and telling them so, in not so many words.
Anyway, I can't possibly accompany Justin to any more dealerships because I'm sure word has gotten around about the crazy girl who bursts into hysterics whenever a price is quoted on a car or someone mentions a "minimum" monthly payment.
June 03, 2006
Well, I was cruising around my Random Image Generator, as I do more frequently than I breathe, and I happened across this little gem.
Now, anyone who I would want reading my site knows what that is from. It's the name of the street that the Simpsons live on. And you know what? Enough's enough. I was willing to let Fall Out Boy slip past, but this is just too much. And do you want to know something else? Fall Out Boy didn't even know who Fallout Boy was because a fucking fan named them.
I was even going to forgive my frustration of the band's misspelling of the word, "fallout," but no more. And don't give me that they probably changed the spelling so they wouldn't get sued by Matt Groening. To quote the Honorable Judge Judy, don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining.
And now Evergreen Terrace. Does anyone put any thought into naming their band anymore? Or do you just flip on the old tube and let it name your expression of creativity?
Wait, guys, I've got a great idea for a new band. It's going to be called "CNN, Quagmire, 4 8 15 16 23 42, Seth Green, The Wiggles, Sephiroth, Wolverine, Christopher Lowell." I just covered like 6 demographics, bitch.
I think I'm really on to something.
June 01, 2006
So I checked my credit and Fico scores today.
I looked forward to it like I look forward to a trip to the Big Girl Doctor for a mammogram. It's probably something that I should do, but it seems like something I'm not supposed to do for a long time, and I've put it off for this long because I'm afraid I might end up feeling like crap. Not because of breast cancer, because the doctor would mock me for being a B-cup at 25.
Anyway, I am happy to say that in the world of finance, I have a very nice rack.
Apparently, not a lot of people pay their bills and stuff on time. I sort of thought that was a rule, so I just did it. Turns out, I win! I feel like the government is awarding me for breathing.
I'm terrified that this could change at any moment -- any wrong move or mispurchase could send me spiraling into, I don't know, my brother's percentile, and I just don't know what I'd do. He seems to deal with his grief by playing Halo all day, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
I'm also a bit wary that the three credit bureaus include addresses I forgot I even lived at and credit cards I sort of signed up for just to get 10% off of underwear at Victoria's Secret.
Anyway, I just wanted to share my happiness with you all. I guess what I'm trying to say is, Who needs a car loan?!