I have an INSANE number of CD's and DVD's. Seriously, it's NUTS! I think I might have an addiction. Is there a support group for that?
"Hello, my name is Serena. I'm a movie addict."
It's even worse when my daughter is around. I think our record is six movies in one day. Not at home, at the theater. We got there when it opened and we saw EVERY movie that was playing. It was a great time, but then my daughter is great.
People always ask, "What's your favorite movie?" And I had to sit and think about it. Most people just don't understand that there are different moods to my movies, so my favorites kind of depend on my mood.
Anyway, I'm off to watch Strange Brew. I love that movie. Bob and Doug McKensize...I laugh just thinkin' about it.
Later taters!!!
7.29.2005
How hard is it to be nice, I mean really?
I'm on the bus this morning, making my usualy commute to work. The woman that drives the bus I take is not exactly a talker...just sort of stares at you when you get on, doesn't say anything when you get off.
Today, when we got all the way through the University area there was a young man standing by the bus stop at campus housing. He was obviously a student and when the bus driver stopped he came up to the bus and asked , in heavily accented English, if she stopped at a particular place.
Now, instead of taking the time to be pleasant and courteous, she snaps at him, like he's stupid, "No, you go across the street."
This young man was slightly confused, I believe he was an international student and had most likely never travelled around Salt Lake before. He asked his question again, with a different street.
A second opportunity for her to be pleasant. Did she take it? No, she did not. She got even snappier, " Again, you ...have..to..go...ACROSS..the street."
Even after she had been so rude, this young man smiled, apologized for taking her time and said thank you.
Honestly? It made me want to go up front and call her to task for it. I mean it's not like she's driving that bus out of the goodness of her heart. She's being paid to be there and be of some assistance to the people utilizing the Salt Lake public transit system. It made me very angry.
Today, when we got all the way through the University area there was a young man standing by the bus stop at campus housing. He was obviously a student and when the bus driver stopped he came up to the bus and asked , in heavily accented English, if she stopped at a particular place.
Now, instead of taking the time to be pleasant and courteous, she snaps at him, like he's stupid, "No, you go across the street."
This young man was slightly confused, I believe he was an international student and had most likely never travelled around Salt Lake before. He asked his question again, with a different street.
A second opportunity for her to be pleasant. Did she take it? No, she did not. She got even snappier, " Again, you ...have..to..go...ACROSS..the street."
Even after she had been so rude, this young man smiled, apologized for taking her time and said thank you.
Honestly? It made me want to go up front and call her to task for it. I mean it's not like she's driving that bus out of the goodness of her heart. She's being paid to be there and be of some assistance to the people utilizing the Salt Lake public transit system. It made me very angry.
7.28.2005
A letter to my mother.....
I'm going to just say this right up front...this post is going to sound angry and hurt and I realize my mother is never actually going to read it, but there are some things I want to say, just to have them said....with that note....
Dear Mother,
When I think about my childhood I look at the few precious good memories I have and it makes me sad. It makes me sad that I was not given the chance that every child should have, the chance to have a loving, lasting realationship with his/her parents. It makes me sad that the bad memories far outweigh the good.
I remember going to a movies with you as a child. Star Wars, Dragonslayer, The Fox and the Hound....I loved going to the movies. I remember you taking me to the library, sitting in the egg shaped chair in the main library reading with you. I remember the time in the fourth grade when you yelled at my teacher because she accused me of having you write my book report, you told her that I was smarter than most of the kids in the class and that I was MORE than capable of writing book reports on books that even she wouldn't understand.
I also remember sitting in my room, tears running down my face, my back stinging from the blows you had rained down on me. I remember you telling me I was worthless. That I was a liar. That I was lazy. I remember you telling me that you didn't want to talk to me unless I could talk to you like an adult. I remember you brushing me off, because you had more important things to do than spend time with me. I remember you red faced and screaming, telling me that I had ruined your life. All before I turned ten.
There are other memories of that time, each more painful than the last, but nothing as lasting as the feeling of hurt and shame that my mother would do those things to me.
I remember leaving your house when I was still a teenager and trying to make a go of it alone. I remember graduation. You told me that I could have you present at a major life event, or you and Dad could send me money so I could get an apartment. What kind of choice was that? And I remember the day I had to call you and tell you I was pregnant. I was looking for love and support. Instead you yelled at me, accused me of not caring about you, telling me you couldn't believe you had to tell your friends I was pregnant, and then telling me if I kept the child I would get no help from you. Fast forward nine months, after I had made the agonizing decision to place my first child for adoption, alone. You sent me a letter telling me that for the first time in my life, you were proud of me. Did you even read that before you sent it? Did you honestly think that it would make me feel good to say something like that?
Then five years later, my sister gets pregnant, at the age of sixteen, and you take her into the warmth of family. Help her get through the pregnancy, take care of the baby so she can finish school. What the hell? I hated you for that.
I get married. I pay for the wedding. You tell me that at least I can do that right. Then when he starts having affairs, plural, and caps it off by driving drunk with my daughter and I kick him to the curb, you tell me you knew I would be a failure at that, just like I was for everything else in my life.
You're a bitch.
The list just goes on and on and on. And for some reason, I kept trying to repair the relationship. I didn't want to believe that you could be so intentionally cruel. Then I moved to Utah and met someone, and decided to have another child. When I called to tell you I was having a baby, were you excited? No, the first thing you say to me is:" Is this one going to be legitamte?" Who the fuck do you think you are? My daughter was born AFTER I had been married. It was my sister, not me that made a habit of having babies without dads...and yet you seem to have no problem with her kids.
The one thing I have to thank you for is the fact that because of you, because of how I felt as I grew up..I am a better parent. I love my children. There is never anything more important than they are. I tell them how special they are. I praise them. I never hit them. My children will grow up healthy and whole and will never end up on Oprah cursing my name for the way I failed them.
The way you failed me.
You tell me I'm not successful. I disagree. Everything I am today I am responsible for. I could sit and whine to anyone that listens that you were horrible and you ruined my life. Instead I chose to show the world that I am a postive, energetic, intelligent woman. I use my talents to make the lives of those around me better. I am more successful than you will ever know.
I think I pity you. You are a shallow, hollow person that thinks the world owes you something. You can never find peace that way and I feel sorry for that. I feel sorry for you.
Dear Mother,
When I think about my childhood I look at the few precious good memories I have and it makes me sad. It makes me sad that I was not given the chance that every child should have, the chance to have a loving, lasting realationship with his/her parents. It makes me sad that the bad memories far outweigh the good.
I remember going to a movies with you as a child. Star Wars, Dragonslayer, The Fox and the Hound....I loved going to the movies. I remember you taking me to the library, sitting in the egg shaped chair in the main library reading with you. I remember the time in the fourth grade when you yelled at my teacher because she accused me of having you write my book report, you told her that I was smarter than most of the kids in the class and that I was MORE than capable of writing book reports on books that even she wouldn't understand.
I also remember sitting in my room, tears running down my face, my back stinging from the blows you had rained down on me. I remember you telling me I was worthless. That I was a liar. That I was lazy. I remember you telling me that you didn't want to talk to me unless I could talk to you like an adult. I remember you brushing me off, because you had more important things to do than spend time with me. I remember you red faced and screaming, telling me that I had ruined your life. All before I turned ten.
There are other memories of that time, each more painful than the last, but nothing as lasting as the feeling of hurt and shame that my mother would do those things to me.
I remember leaving your house when I was still a teenager and trying to make a go of it alone. I remember graduation. You told me that I could have you present at a major life event, or you and Dad could send me money so I could get an apartment. What kind of choice was that? And I remember the day I had to call you and tell you I was pregnant. I was looking for love and support. Instead you yelled at me, accused me of not caring about you, telling me you couldn't believe you had to tell your friends I was pregnant, and then telling me if I kept the child I would get no help from you. Fast forward nine months, after I had made the agonizing decision to place my first child for adoption, alone. You sent me a letter telling me that for the first time in my life, you were proud of me. Did you even read that before you sent it? Did you honestly think that it would make me feel good to say something like that?
Then five years later, my sister gets pregnant, at the age of sixteen, and you take her into the warmth of family. Help her get through the pregnancy, take care of the baby so she can finish school. What the hell? I hated you for that.
I get married. I pay for the wedding. You tell me that at least I can do that right. Then when he starts having affairs, plural, and caps it off by driving drunk with my daughter and I kick him to the curb, you tell me you knew I would be a failure at that, just like I was for everything else in my life.
You're a bitch.
The list just goes on and on and on. And for some reason, I kept trying to repair the relationship. I didn't want to believe that you could be so intentionally cruel. Then I moved to Utah and met someone, and decided to have another child. When I called to tell you I was having a baby, were you excited? No, the first thing you say to me is:" Is this one going to be legitamte?" Who the fuck do you think you are? My daughter was born AFTER I had been married. It was my sister, not me that made a habit of having babies without dads...and yet you seem to have no problem with her kids.
The one thing I have to thank you for is the fact that because of you, because of how I felt as I grew up..I am a better parent. I love my children. There is never anything more important than they are. I tell them how special they are. I praise them. I never hit them. My children will grow up healthy and whole and will never end up on Oprah cursing my name for the way I failed them.
The way you failed me.
You tell me I'm not successful. I disagree. Everything I am today I am responsible for. I could sit and whine to anyone that listens that you were horrible and you ruined my life. Instead I chose to show the world that I am a postive, energetic, intelligent woman. I use my talents to make the lives of those around me better. I am more successful than you will ever know.
I think I pity you. You are a shallow, hollow person that thinks the world owes you something. You can never find peace that way and I feel sorry for that. I feel sorry for you.
7.26.2005
Well color me surprised.....
I just found out yesterday that I actually have readers that are not Steph, Mav or Russ. Color me surprised. I didn't think anyone at all was reading this thing.
Now there's all this pressure to be witty and intellectually stimulating.....Okay, not really, but it sounded good right?
Now there's all this pressure to be witty and intellectually stimulating.....Okay, not really, but it sounded good right?
Anyway, a BIG 'ole welcome to all my non-circle of friends readers. I'll try not to bore you to tears!!
7.24.2005
Depressing Thoughts by, well certainly not Jack Handy.....
Recently I have begun to take stock of my life and I'm thinking that moving to Utah was the biggest mistake of my life. I've had nothing but crap for luck and one string of bad things after another. North Dakota wasn't fun, or exciting, or even mediocore, but I had a nice apartment, a decent job and no trouble.
Now I'm stuck here living where things cost to much, it's to expensive to live, you can't get around with out a car.....public transportation SUCKS.....I hate where I live. And don't even get me started on who I live with...I just want to crawl into a hole and disappear.
I'm gonna go read now....I just don't want to interact with the world right now.
Now I'm stuck here living where things cost to much, it's to expensive to live, you can't get around with out a car.....public transportation SUCKS.....I hate where I live. And don't even get me started on who I live with...I just want to crawl into a hole and disappear.
I'm gonna go read now....I just don't want to interact with the world right now.
Water, my kingdom for a glass of water
Okay Cats and Kittens, it's five o'clock in the morning and I just got up to make my son a bottle and guess what? There's no fuckin water!! That's right, nada, not a damn drop. Turns out that the fools next door have a leak in the hallway and they have the water main, so they turned it off. Fuckin idiots!
My life is gonna make a best seller some day, I swear to god!
My life is gonna make a best seller some day, I swear to god!
7.17.2005
Junkies, Crack Whores and Tweakers, Oh My!
I live in the most ghetto building you can possibly imagine, well for a little city in Utah anyway. My upstairs neighbors smoke pot and well, let's just say, other stuff on a regular basis....and it all comes down into my apartment through the dryer vent. They like to do things like vacum at two in the morning and run the dryer at odd hours. Fun Fun
The girl next door is a tweaker, sunken cheeks and all. She has apparently decided that her new hobbie is going to be skulking at my windows to listen in on my conversations, and then run to the land lady and play Miss Molly Tattletale.
It's two thirty in the morning and I'm wide awake because we just caught one of them staring in the bedroom window, watching us. How fucked up and creepy is that?
So yeah, we will be moving before the month is out.
God I hate this place!!!
The girl next door is a tweaker, sunken cheeks and all. She has apparently decided that her new hobbie is going to be skulking at my windows to listen in on my conversations, and then run to the land lady and play Miss Molly Tattletale.
It's two thirty in the morning and I'm wide awake because we just caught one of them staring in the bedroom window, watching us. How fucked up and creepy is that?
So yeah, we will be moving before the month is out.
God I hate this place!!!
7.15.2005
Rap music at four in the morning....
Anyone that knows me knows I'm not a fan of rap or hip hop, under the best of circumstances. Well, four a.m. is not the best of circumstances. I'm lying in bed, sleeping soundly, dreaming my happy little dreams of....okay, that part isn't important. All of a sudden I hear rap music blaring outside.
Now, understandably, I'm a little peeved. It has not only roused me from deep slumber, it has awaken my son. So I get up, mumbling nasty things under my breath, get dressed, and walk to the apartment complex next door.
This little journey leads me to find that there is a small, blue car parked in the lot, windows down, radio on at full blast. The funny thing? There is no one in the car. Fast foreward twenty minutes......
After banging on doors for twenty minutes I finally find out who's car it is and eventually manage to wake them up. They are shocked.....it seems someone tried to steal the car, set off the radio and took off.
So instead of yelling at someone, it looks like I saved them from waking up in the morning to a dead battery. All in all, a very weird night!
Now, understandably, I'm a little peeved. It has not only roused me from deep slumber, it has awaken my son. So I get up, mumbling nasty things under my breath, get dressed, and walk to the apartment complex next door.
This little journey leads me to find that there is a small, blue car parked in the lot, windows down, radio on at full blast. The funny thing? There is no one in the car. Fast foreward twenty minutes......
After banging on doors for twenty minutes I finally find out who's car it is and eventually manage to wake them up. They are shocked.....it seems someone tried to steal the car, set off the radio and took off.
So instead of yelling at someone, it looks like I saved them from waking up in the morning to a dead battery. All in all, a very weird night!
7.04.2005
Assholes and Idiots
So I got and email today from someone that fits both of the above categories. Asshole, well I've already cover that, but let's refresh our memories, shall we?
This is a man, and please understand that I use that term in the loosest sense possible, that targets women he believes to be weak and lacking in self esteem, so that he can whisper sweet nothings in their ears to get them to do anything he asks. He does an awfully good job at playing Prince Charming...you know the guy I'm talking about, the one that looks all nice and shiny on the outside, but is hollow and rotted on the inside??? Yeah, that's him.
He made the mistake of thinking I was one of these women, and then, when he found out I wasn't decided that I wasn't actually his friend after all. He mistook the oddities of Manic Depression, for total obsession....not very bright, is he dear readers???
Today, I receive an email from this sadly narcissitic man...and get this, he's asking me to add my name to the messenger list of his latest "dear friend" I mean really....how sad is that? I mean why would I want to talk to any of his inane little friends?
All I have to say is .....Sheesh!!!
This is a man, and please understand that I use that term in the loosest sense possible, that targets women he believes to be weak and lacking in self esteem, so that he can whisper sweet nothings in their ears to get them to do anything he asks. He does an awfully good job at playing Prince Charming...you know the guy I'm talking about, the one that looks all nice and shiny on the outside, but is hollow and rotted on the inside??? Yeah, that's him.
He made the mistake of thinking I was one of these women, and then, when he found out I wasn't decided that I wasn't actually his friend after all. He mistook the oddities of Manic Depression, for total obsession....not very bright, is he dear readers???
Today, I receive an email from this sadly narcissitic man...and get this, he's asking me to add my name to the messenger list of his latest "dear friend" I mean really....how sad is that? I mean why would I want to talk to any of his inane little friends?
All I have to say is .....Sheesh!!!
7.01.2005
Duran Duran, yes AGAIN....
So check out the photo...how young do they look? i would have been about thirteen at the time this picture was taken.
I have recently found myself becoming obsessed with Duran Duran again. I'm 34 for pete's sake. You would think that by now, I would have grown out of it. But nooooooo, not me.
And here's the kicker, I found a lovely little message board that is just jam packed with other thirty something woman, all as obsessed as I am. How fun is that?
Not only that, but there's fan fic, that's right my friends, Duran Duran fan fic. And it's smutty as hell. Anyway...that's all I have to say for right now
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