Isn't that just the coolest?
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Bad drivers. Bad. Drivers. I am convinced my stress levels would decrease dramatically if not for bad drivers. My town is full of them. People who don't use their handy dandy easy to use turn signals. People who don't get the stop sign rules. Seriously people, you take turns. That's how it works. You don't just pause and go without looking at the other cars around you! That's how you almost slam into Andrea's front bumper almost every morning and give her a great start to the day. And I wonder about all these asshole drivers. I mean, are these people that rude in life? Are they cutting in line at the grocery store because they just have to get to the cashier first, interrupting their colleagues at work because they just have to speak first? Really?
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Hyperbole and a Half. This is my most favorite new discovery. If you don't read this blog, you are missing out. Missing. The. Fuck. Out. It's beyond highlarious. And this post? THIS POST made my whole damn day. Here's a teaser (in case you needed further convincing):
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Fuck student loans. Fuck my motherfucking student fucking loans. Fuck them. Long story long, I'm about to be unemployed by my own volition and need to put my loans in forbearance.
Loan company A, which we'll call A for Assholes, pretty much assfucked me today because I can't apply for a suspension until the next payment is due (someone tell me how that makes ANY sense at all?) and that date happens to be when I'll be making the arduous trek along the Oregon goddamn trail in my covered wagon and two oxen (aka my two fucking cats). While fording the river, I'll need to magically produce a cell phone and fax machine and apply for a goddamn loan suspension. Fuck. Me. And the Assholes.
Loan company B, who we'll call Lesser Assholes, laughed in my face telling me that I used up my one forbearance when I was unemployed the first time (aka when I had just graduated college and realized I wasn't even qualified to clean toilets). But I wizened up on that one. After hanging up and bawling at my desk out of sheer frustration, I called back (still sniffling, thank jeebus) and got a kindly sounding lady who took pity on my soul and gave me a whopping 3 month forbearance (whoopdefuckingdoo) for a fee. A not small fee. But a fee still less that my loans. And hell, if I'm not working in 3 months, someone adopt my cats and stick me on the corner in ripped fishnets and clear plastic shoes.
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Which brings me to my mantra of the day. Instead of majoring in English Lit, which basically qualifies me to write witty blogs and sound smart and pretentious at book club, I should have majored in stripping. Seriously. Shit would have paid for itself by now. I mean hell, what are the downsides? Okay, so I don't think I could hang upside down on the pole (vertigo), but I am a kickass dancer. Okay, so I don't have the requisite tits, but I do have one hell of an ass AND pushup bras are a miracle of nature. But the one thing I can't get past are the fucking godawful shoes (I love that spellcheck counts godawful as a word). I could dance half naked on a pole upside down, but the shoes? The come fuck me plastic platform shoes? That goes against my principles. A girl has to have standards.
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Eh. I'm about to get an unwanted visit from Aunt Flo anyway. What, you ask? Well, if you have to ask, you're probably male. And if you're male and still reading this blog after the gyno visits and descriptions of my vibrator (whose name in now Rosie, bee tee double you), you must not scare easily. Aunt Flo, boyos, is a not so creative euphemism for my period. I just hate that word, period. It makes it sound so tame, instead of the crazy making, fat inducing, excruciating pain that is bleeding from my hooha every month.
Still there? You win! I'll spare you for now (for now) and just say this: I'm reaching the point of time before my period where I get super snarky. So don't take it personally unless I tell you to. Then you'd better fucking take it personally. I'm now getting an idea to dedicate a whole post to Aunt Flo. Whom I hate so much.
Why men read my blog is beyond me.
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Many people who seem to like me (have yet to completely understand why) have expressed their dislike for the big move I am about to make. And it has its downsides, to be sure. I don't have a job waiting. I'll be further away from my dad and cousins and some lovely friends I've made along the way. But, I need to go. And I need to leave the place I live now. Here, I often feel that my job is my whole life, not because I'm a workaholic, but because I don't have much else to fill my life with. But I need to be more than my job. I have to be more than my job. While it's so sweet that you guys are so unhappy to see me go, I need you to support this move, support my desire for a full life, with happy-making things beyond what brings in a paycheck.
With that thought, here's a Jesca Hoop
song that I'll be singing for the next 3 weeks:
Posts
4 comments mean you love me:
I totally feel you on unemployment, if i'm not working in 3 months my dogs better learn how to beg or convince my mom to let them stay lol
First let me say, I wholeheartedly support your move. Too many people dream of a better life, but are too afriad to leave the comfort of a job that doesn't keep them warm at night, a significant other that doesn't understand teamwork or a family that wants them to live the same old life they lived. Go, my friend, go and discover what I have discovered...when you tell the Universe you're not going to settled for less then what you want & deserve, the Universe pays attention and the path ahead opens up and all the pavers fall into place. It may not be easy, but it is there to be made and traveled by those willing to walk the talk.
Secondly, it is because of Bad drivers, that I drive a large truck. Yes it does go against my long standing eco friendliness (although USA trucks today are far more green then most trucks overseas) but completely supports my desire to keep me and my family safer on the road.
Thirdly, it is a bit weird to have a vibrator called Rosie, I mean, it's a GIRLS name. At least mine is called "Vern"...ok, so not exactly the vision of hunkiness but in all fairness I didn't name him...a guy did...long story.
And lastly, you think a degree in English Lit is bad, try Sociology...you get paid less then the kid blending your mochacchino and work 10 times the hours. Like you, I once pondered the stripper life...I had the boobs, the legs, the moves and even the shoes didn't bother me...it was the thought of creepy, fat, bald or perverted old men that grossed me out & permanently removed "stripper" as a career option for me. =)
Hang in there Snoopy, the rest of your life is waiting for you to catch up.
Agreed--this move is for you so do it, love it, and then stick your tongue out at the people who said it was a bad idea. And if it sucks, just think about the blogs you'll be able to write! :)
Thanks for the rant, it pretty much made my day. An English Lit degree may not pay your bills but it certainly provides entertainment for us all and really, isn't that why people get an Eng. Lit. degree?? ;)
thanks for the comments, guys! you've each made my day! :D
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