Some people like extensive planning before they take action. I am not one of these people. That's not to say I don't plan, it's just that I really just do the bare minimum.
This Christmas, I actually tried to plan. I thought I was being so slick, getting the address of the people my family usually goes to visit for Christmas and sending their gifts there. I sent over $100 worth of chocolate to the family they visit (working at a luxury chocolatier, that price is not very hard to reach) so that they would be surprised. Welp, surprise is on me now, I got a call from my brother telling me they stayed home, and I'm sure at some point I will get a thank you from the family I just be-chocolated.
So I guess I look like a heartless beast to my family and a really generous chap to some family friends...
Moral of the story: keep on truckin'
Monday, December 26, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
It seemed like a good idea at the time...
Things happen to me. I tell people the stories of what happened. I have some really crazy stories because things just seem to happen to me.
About a month ago, a friend pointed out that almost every single story I tell could seamlessly end with "... it seemed like a good idea at the time." First of all, I realized this is true. Second of all, I cannot stop thinking about it. Third of all, it is making me now question the rationality of my actions moreso than usual. It used to be something like "Will I possibly get hurt or die? No? Ok, lets do this thing!" But now I am wondering what other people would do in my situation. It is distracting me from what is going on because I am thinking about how the story will turn out.
I need to stop second-guessing my reactions and stop thinking "It seemed like a good idea at the time," before each decision.
I need to embrace the way I am and just accept the fact that I am a bit of a fool. Judge me if you will. I am not going to get myself killed (well, probably not. (should I do spoiler warnings when talking about my possible eventual death?)) and I have so many amazing things happen to me! Who else can say they got a free trip to Denmark for agreeing to dress up Steampunk to help a total stranger online? How many people can say they've talked with the CEO of Arby's at a masqurade ball that they were not invited to? Who else would tell you their reaction to being mugged was to scoff and their reaction to someone breaking in was to hold the door closed? I am an idiot sometimes and I have one hell of a poker face, I don't know why that is who I am but it is and I will accept it and keep being happy that I have cool stories to tell.
Besides, tragedy plus time equals a damn good story.
About a month ago, a friend pointed out that almost every single story I tell could seamlessly end with "... it seemed like a good idea at the time." First of all, I realized this is true. Second of all, I cannot stop thinking about it. Third of all, it is making me now question the rationality of my actions moreso than usual. It used to be something like "Will I possibly get hurt or die? No? Ok, lets do this thing!" But now I am wondering what other people would do in my situation. It is distracting me from what is going on because I am thinking about how the story will turn out.
I need to stop second-guessing my reactions and stop thinking "It seemed like a good idea at the time," before each decision.
I need to embrace the way I am and just accept the fact that I am a bit of a fool. Judge me if you will. I am not going to get myself killed (well, probably not. (should I do spoiler warnings when talking about my possible eventual death?)) and I have so many amazing things happen to me! Who else can say they got a free trip to Denmark for agreeing to dress up Steampunk to help a total stranger online? How many people can say they've talked with the CEO of Arby's at a masqurade ball that they were not invited to? Who else would tell you their reaction to being mugged was to scoff and their reaction to someone breaking in was to hold the door closed? I am an idiot sometimes and I have one hell of a poker face, I don't know why that is who I am but it is and I will accept it and keep being happy that I have cool stories to tell.
Besides, tragedy plus time equals a damn good story.
Monday, July 25, 2011
The Trials and Tribulations of Being Pale
I am pale. No news there. I am very pale. But the thing is, I am not pale on purpose. Nor am I pale to spite anyone, though I've gone to greater lengths just to get revenge. But people do not seem to realize this.
Just yesterday a man felt the need to come up and tell me to get a tan. I told him I'd get a tan when he got manners and put on a shirt. Probably was not a smart move on my part. Coincidentally, if I am found dead anytime soon, it was likely the Latin Kings. But really, I get this a lot. My coworker told me I had to tan my legs. An acquaintance that works at a strip club called me to try to get me to come get a full body spray tan with a bunch of strippers, there was some group deal. The only thing tempting about that is the idea that I could then truthfully say I got a spray tan with a group of strippers.
Once I even had a man lean out of his car and yell at me, "Go out in the sun sometime!" The flaw in his suggestion was that I was already standing outside in the sun.
I understand the current beauty standard is all about being tan. But you know what? It's also about being skinny and tall with long straight hair. None if these things will ever describe me, so why bother trying to reach an unattainable goal that I don't even want to look like? You don't think I am hot without a tan? That's fine because I am not interested in you and don't care about your opinion of me.
Natural tan does not happen on me. My skin is fair, it burns easily. The burn fades into a nice light olive-gold tan. The lovely tan then peels off into paleness. Yep, my tan peels off. Not even sure how this happens, but I've never had a tan line that lasted more than a month.
I suppose there is fake tanning, but really, dying your skin? Seriously? People used to tint their skin bluish to look more fair. And some people bleach their skin. Not saying lighter skin is better, but why not just let your natural skin color show instead of dying your skin or toasting it as much as possible? Is it really that important to fit in? I am fine with standing out if it allows me to stay healthy and save effort. You tan your skin and get tattoos, I stay pale. Let me be and respect my choice.
Just yesterday a man felt the need to come up and tell me to get a tan. I told him I'd get a tan when he got manners and put on a shirt. Probably was not a smart move on my part. Coincidentally, if I am found dead anytime soon, it was likely the Latin Kings. But really, I get this a lot. My coworker told me I had to tan my legs. An acquaintance that works at a strip club called me to try to get me to come get a full body spray tan with a bunch of strippers, there was some group deal. The only thing tempting about that is the idea that I could then truthfully say I got a spray tan with a group of strippers.
Once I even had a man lean out of his car and yell at me, "Go out in the sun sometime!" The flaw in his suggestion was that I was already standing outside in the sun.
I understand the current beauty standard is all about being tan. But you know what? It's also about being skinny and tall with long straight hair. None if these things will ever describe me, so why bother trying to reach an unattainable goal that I don't even want to look like? You don't think I am hot without a tan? That's fine because I am not interested in you and don't care about your opinion of me.
Natural tan does not happen on me. My skin is fair, it burns easily. The burn fades into a nice light olive-gold tan. The lovely tan then peels off into paleness. Yep, my tan peels off. Not even sure how this happens, but I've never had a tan line that lasted more than a month.
I suppose there is fake tanning, but really, dying your skin? Seriously? People used to tint their skin bluish to look more fair. And some people bleach their skin. Not saying lighter skin is better, but why not just let your natural skin color show instead of dying your skin or toasting it as much as possible? Is it really that important to fit in? I am fine with standing out if it allows me to stay healthy and save effort. You tan your skin and get tattoos, I stay pale. Let me be and respect my choice.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
The airport broke
So last night's rain, which managed to blow sideways into my air conditioner and soak my floor, also managed to break O'Hare International airport.
Weather delays always suck because the airport is full of the same people all mulling about all day. The upside of that is everyone decides to treat themselves to our chocolate and we get a higher average sale, but the downside is that there are significantly less people to sell to, and also it's the same people all day. Not that I am ever outright rude to customers, but I am a bit on the sarcastic side, and if I piss someone off, they spend the day occasionally walking past to glare at me.
Anyway, so the runways were flooded, but so were some of the hallways and the CTA train tracks. We had to be shuttled in from Rosemont, which meant a crowded bus. A crowded bus, for short people such as myself, means sweaty man-back smacking me in the face. Not a good way to start the day. And they dropped as on the exact opposite side of the airport, so I had to hurry across the entire thing. Then my usual security checkpoint was closed, so I had to go across the terminal to another one. And I got stuck behind people that seemed to be playing a game of "how many security bins can I spread my stuff out in." The answer, for the man and woman playing, were 6 and 5 respectively. They also did not seem to grasp the "everyone must take their shoes and belts off" sign meant them. I propose adding "Yes, this means you too." to all the signs.
And the highlight of the day was listening to a very loud and obnoxious baggage handler talk about how he wants to punch flight attendants in the face while watching the facial expressions of the flight attendant sitting right behind him.
The low point was the TSA worker that bought a different brand of chocolate to come eat in our chocolate shop while trying and failing to flirt with us. You, sir, are not charming. And quit walking through our store as a shortcut. Creeper.
Weather delays always suck because the airport is full of the same people all mulling about all day. The upside of that is everyone decides to treat themselves to our chocolate and we get a higher average sale, but the downside is that there are significantly less people to sell to, and also it's the same people all day. Not that I am ever outright rude to customers, but I am a bit on the sarcastic side, and if I piss someone off, they spend the day occasionally walking past to glare at me.
Anyway, so the runways were flooded, but so were some of the hallways and the CTA train tracks. We had to be shuttled in from Rosemont, which meant a crowded bus. A crowded bus, for short people such as myself, means sweaty man-back smacking me in the face. Not a good way to start the day. And they dropped as on the exact opposite side of the airport, so I had to hurry across the entire thing. Then my usual security checkpoint was closed, so I had to go across the terminal to another one. And I got stuck behind people that seemed to be playing a game of "how many security bins can I spread my stuff out in." The answer, for the man and woman playing, were 6 and 5 respectively. They also did not seem to grasp the "everyone must take their shoes and belts off" sign meant them. I propose adding "Yes, this means you too." to all the signs.
And the highlight of the day was listening to a very loud and obnoxious baggage handler talk about how he wants to punch flight attendants in the face while watching the facial expressions of the flight attendant sitting right behind him.
The low point was the TSA worker that bought a different brand of chocolate to come eat in our chocolate shop while trying and failing to flirt with us. You, sir, are not charming. And quit walking through our store as a shortcut. Creeper.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Wow, I am horrible about updating, aren't I? It's ok because nobody actually reads this blog except for me, though I admit this is probably the second time I've looked at it.
So I suppose a summary of my year since the last post might be in order. But not in chronological order, mind.
I up and moved from Atlanta, GA to Chicago, IL on a whim. It was a long, drawn out whim, but a whim none the less.
I was unemployed for six months, then got a job with a chocolate company. Now I am full time and I talk to people all day about chocolate and travel. It seemed to fit in with my previous jobs in that it is like nothing I've done before. But that's not hard to do when the list of things I have done for a living include farming in an urban area and selling sharp objects to rednecks while dressed as a pirate. In fact, it is oddly normal.
I got an apartment. Then a month later I got an oven and refrigerator. So, at least my habit of living in sketchy places survived the move.
Other than the building management being insane, the place is actually quite nice. I did have to play Russian Phone Tag, which is similar to Russian Roulette in that you never know when actual useful information might suddenly happen. The realtor (I have his number saved in my phone as "Crazy Russian Val") tried to sell me on an apartment that was discounted for not having a closet. This apartment had a fridge where the closet was supposed to be. And what was in the spot the fridge was supposed to be? Nothing. A big empty space. Perhaps I could have made that my closet. Too bad, I passed on that one, I think $25 more a month is worth a closet.
I tried to convince some people that there were Thomas the Tank Engine brass knuckles and that on the streets we called them "Tommy Knuckles" but I don't think I convinced more than two people.
I did manage to convince someone Jurassic Park was a musical. I did the same thing with A Clockwork Orange, but then someone standing nearby called me out on my lie. Alas.
I was able to form a gaming group before I found a job and now I am working every Sunday for the foreseeable future, so I cannot play. I went to all the trouble of making the perfect character, too. He refused to equip clothing.
Someone that looked like me but with a mustache met the author Scott Westerfeld. He follows me on Twitter but it took me months to follow him back. Bad form?
I got to ride a working Model A Ford, which might have made my life that much closer to complete. Now If I can just ride a Penny Farthing bicycle...
I will do a separate post about the various strange people I've met, but I will give you this as a teaser:
Hand written, hard laminated business card. From a peaceful dove guy.
This thrift store painting happened. Now here's the part where your mind gets blown:
Yes, Mike is a tall guy, and I needed him in the picture so that your minds can try to grasp the fact that this was a giant fucking cat painting. Had I not been living in a very small room at the time, this would be in the background of all my pictures and videos.
A lot of snow happened:
I got bored one day and walked 10.6 miles across the city. Later I was told I went through some bad areas. It is hard to tell what is a good or bad area in the winter since there is nobody outside to commit any crimes against me.
Being a city girl, livestock still amuses me. Less so after this cow:
This was taller than me and quite... scream-y.
This is nowhere near all the things that have happened, but going through my Photobucket, this is what came up, so enjoy.
So I suppose a summary of my year since the last post might be in order. But not in chronological order, mind.
I up and moved from Atlanta, GA to Chicago, IL on a whim. It was a long, drawn out whim, but a whim none the less.
I was unemployed for six months, then got a job with a chocolate company. Now I am full time and I talk to people all day about chocolate and travel. It seemed to fit in with my previous jobs in that it is like nothing I've done before. But that's not hard to do when the list of things I have done for a living include farming in an urban area and selling sharp objects to rednecks while dressed as a pirate. In fact, it is oddly normal.
I got an apartment. Then a month later I got an oven and refrigerator. So, at least my habit of living in sketchy places survived the move.
I tried to convince some people that there were Thomas the Tank Engine brass knuckles and that on the streets we called them "Tommy Knuckles" but I don't think I convinced more than two people.
I did manage to convince someone Jurassic Park was a musical. I did the same thing with A Clockwork Orange, but then someone standing nearby called me out on my lie. Alas.
I got to ride a working Model A Ford, which might have made my life that much closer to complete. Now If I can just ride a Penny Farthing bicycle...
I will do a separate post about the various strange people I've met, but I will give you this as a teaser:
A lot of snow happened:
I got bored one day and walked 10.6 miles across the city. Later I was told I went through some bad areas. It is hard to tell what is a good or bad area in the winter since there is nobody outside to commit any crimes against me.
Being a city girl, livestock still amuses me. Less so after this cow:
This was taller than me and quite... scream-y.
This is nowhere near all the things that have happened, but going through my Photobucket, this is what came up, so enjoy.
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