Pet Peeves

I've been really easily agitated lately (more than usual, if you know me at all then you'll know this is a huge deal) and I don't know if it's because of the lack of sleep I sometimes get, or the stress I constantly feel, or everything else has just become so much more annoying all at once. So let's talk about some pet peeves of mine.

Talking loudly so that other people will hear all the wonderfully cool things you're saying.
This is different than people who just talk loudly. No, these people want strangers to know about how cool they are and know about all the super cool things they did over the weekend. Or how they have a really cool job and make a lot of money. Or they want someone they like to know what they're missing out on. Just stop it, you animals. It's so obnoxious and does not make anyone think you are cool. It only makes people want to get away from you as fast as possible.

Quotes or song lyrics in tweets or facebook status'.
This is one of the worst ways to use social media. Why are you tweeting that Katy Perry lyric? What is your purpose? You're not adding anything to the conversation. You're copying someone else's work so that people will think you're deep. Or you're using it to be vague so that someone (an ex, a boyfriend/girlfriend, a friend you're fighting with, a cat) will see the message and get whatever point you're childishly trying to make. And it's fucking pathetic. I don't say that lightly.

Religion.
This one might be a touchy one, and I don't really mean religion as an overall thing. I have my own issues with the thing, but I understand how some people need something to believe in to make sense of this world. That's cool if that's your way of dealing. But if you're flaunting that religion or talking about it online in anyway at all, you are annoying everyone around you. I don't want to see whatever verse that is describing your momentary life crisis on my timeline or feed.

Humble Brags.
"He kept telling me how sexy I was but it's like, come on creeper stop being so creepy."
"I mean, she kept telling me how awesome I was at my job and it was almost too much"
"People just couldn't keep up with me because I'm so good at what I do and I couldn't help but wish that they would improve so that we could all be good."
You're the worst human being.

Trying to make me feel better.
Am I the only one that doesn't like it when people try to make you feel better? I figured this out a lot recently. I don't want to hear that "it'll get better" or "remember back then? You had a rough time then too but you ended up loving it" or "yeah, maybe it wasn't a good idea for you to do that." This is something I'll have to deal with because it's in peoples nature to make those around them feel better. But if you're reading this, and the opportunity arises that I'm confiding in or bitching to you, just know that the only thing I want you to be do is listen. Unless you are my parents, anything you say will be the wrong thing.

Proudly claiming you're a nerd.
Just cut it out with that. You're probably not. I have a super specific idea of what makes a nerd, and liking pokemon or video games or comic books does not qualify you as a nerd. Especially if you're a girl, it gets even more specific. The only awesome actual nerd I've ever met is a girl I met in high school and she wasn't constantly saying she was a "total nerd lol." She was proving it.

Complaining about money.
I don't know if you guys know this, but I hate money. I'm known for leaving money laying out in my car for everyone to see. I'm known for leaving a few hundred dollars somewhere in my room and then forgetting it ever existed. I'm known for going out to eat seven times a week (that's rounding down).  But the pet peeve really isn't about people who care about money. It's the people who whine that they don't have money and then go to a mall the very next day. Or people who complain online about how they don't have the money to be going out. Or even worse, the person online who are boasting about how much money they're making. One, you're making people feel bad; two, you're bragging and it's awful; and three, no.one.cares.

Young people talking about what makes them adult or complaining that they're "so old" because they remembered something from the '90s.
When college kids or young adults in their early 20s talk about how they're such adults because they're in bed before midnight every night, or they light candles, or they opted for a salad over a pizza, or they spent "sooo much money on bills ugh", I'm annoyed. None of that makes you an adult. Nothing "makes" you an adult. You just are. You can do whatever you want. Pull an all-nighter or spend a Saturday watching an iCarly rerun or avoid taking the trash out for a day. You're still an adult because you're the one deciding to do that.
And hey, if you're 18-30 you are not old. Just because someone reminded you of how old some 90s TV star is now does not make you old. You're being obnoxious and it's embarrassing for you.

The term "pet peeves."
The end.

That's all I have time for now. I really hope you guys are all "dude, that annoys me too" and we can laaaugh and laugh and laugh talking about it all night.

-A

I'm 23

It's my birthday, the anniversary of the day of my birth, today and I'm now 23 years old which means I'm still younger than my dog but I act older because I have thumbs. Or something like that. I have no idea how that sentence ended up taking that turn but it has and we shall go forward because it is my birthday and I can cry if I want to but, like, I wouldn't want to cry so I'll just interpret that as I can do whatever the fuck I want. I'm not sure that's how that works but again, I will continue to do whatever I want because it is my birthday.

For those of you new to my life, or just somehow unaware, I am a little bit obsessed with my birthday. Some people say Thanksgiving or Halloween or Christmas is their favorite holiday, but mine will forever be my birthday. Because it is my holiday. The day all about me.

Some of you may not know this because I've been a bit low key with my birthday this year. There was no countdown (there's ALWAYS A COUNTDOWN), I didn't ask for anything this year, I wasn't running around telling everyone it was my birthday, and hardly anyone even knew (I almost went all day at work without anyone knowing). But just know that on the inside I'm all IT'S MY BIRTHDAY WHY AREN'T PEOPLE FREAKING OUT IT'S MY DAAAAYYYY.

I had a few hours in between my first and second shifts at work, so after I picked up Louie from his dog hotel, I went to dinner with my roommates. It was really fun because usually when we go out it's trivia night at the bar I work at and we go with another friend of ours. But this time it was just the three of us having good food and laughing and it was the perfect way to spend my day.

And then I came home from work to find that A had gone out to get me a cake, and even had a nice setup going. I literally had time for one bite of that cake before running out the door to go back to work at 10.

Then at work I got to drink and eat for free while I hung out with the very cool people I work with while cleaning up the bar a little bit. But now it's almost 2am and I am exhausted. I have the day off tomorrow so I'm going to be catching up on the DVR and then celebrating my birthday the way it should be celebrated: not worrying about work, and drinking with friends.

Happy birthday to me.

-A

Don't even know what home is anymore.

It's been a long and fun week, but I am exhausted and I am ready to get back to my life. Going back to Kansas made me realize some really surprising and good things about where I am right now. Yeah, I miss my friends like crazy and I've never felt better than when I was at the Sandbar with all of my best friends and things felt comfortable again. And when I went out with my other group of friends it felt so good to be back with the same group who I spent all of my time with right before I moved. Being back in Lawrence and knowing all of the shortcuts and not dealing with traffic felt so good. And being able to hang out with my brother and sister, and spend time with my parents is something I have seriously missed the past four months so it was so good to be back with them. Everything was like it was back in July and it felt warming and I was extremely happy.

But the week went on and now it's Saturday and I leave for the airport in thirty minutes and I can't help but be a little anxious and excited to get back. Being away from LA made me realize that I have things to look forward to out there. I miss my roommates and just sitting on the couch watching some stupid reality show. I miss the friends that I've made and I can't wait to hang out with them again. And you know, I miss that one someone. Oh, and Louie. I can't wait to be back with my handsome guy.

So I'm ready to get back and be back in the swing of things. I wore myself out coming home, cramming  something to do in each possible second. I don't know how much sleep I actually got while back here, but it wasn't much. And I'm feeling the effect that has had because I'm super tired.

Initially I was afraid to come home because I thought it was going to be so hard and almost impossible to go back to LA. But coming home turned out to be really great because it made me realize I like LA a little more than I realized. So I thought I'd type this up really quick before I take off so that when I'm back in LA and the homesickness sets in, I can remember how this feels: to miss LA.

-A

How many jobs can one girl have?

I've been, like, busy or something lately.

It sounds crazy to say but I've been working a lot. And I don't mean I've been putting a lot of hours in on some job. I've been juggling interning on a set ~3 times a week, working two different catering jobs, starting two new serving jobs (and ultimately only keeping one), and then working as a PA for a TV show. And then somehow I've been finding some time to keep up with TV shows, write jokes, and blog a little bit.

But things have now calmed down. Yesterday was my last day on the TV show, today was my last day interning on set (after three very long months, where I was working five days a week in the beginning) and I'll be taking some days off to go home for Thanksgiving. And because things tend to just work out for me, once I get back to LA I'll probably be jumping into another internship.

During all of these jobs, I've also been dealing with some homesickness and emotions or something. It hasn't been easy in LA which is partly to blame for me not keeping up with this blog, because I didn't feel funny. And the first posts on this site were some writing I was actually proud of and I didn't want to tarnish that with some emotional talk about how I miss home and hate traffic and the emotional tailspin I've been going through regarding One Direction. Then somewhere along the way I just started to get so busy that I didn't really have time to think about how I was sad and that led to just not really being all that sad. And, you know, I met people.

So if it wasn't almost three in the morning and I didn't have to be up at 5:30 in the morning I would tell you a story about something that happened but it is almost three in the morning and I do have to be up in two and a half hours so I'm going to say goodnight and I'm going to promise there's a good, more substantial, update coming soon. Just in case you've missed knowing everything about me, you weirdo.
What more do you want to know? I already texted you what I ate for dinner tonight. We need to take this slowly if it's going to work out. I really just hate to jump into things too quickly, that never turns out well for the other person. Text me tomorrow so I don't have to guess what you had for breakfast, okay?

-A

Apartment Emergencies

In the past year or so I've been repeating the mantra that I never want to own a home. I know renting is a bitch, and when you have a 90 pound dog you learn this fact more than anyone else. But, like, I'm lazy and I don't know how to fix things. I feel like when you own a home there is always something that needs to be fixed or yard work to be done. I'm not quite sure how this appeals to anyone because there are just so many things out there that I would rather be doing than yard work.

Renting is just easy because if something breaks or messes up even slightly, I call someone and they come over and fix it.

Not long after I moved into my townhouse in Lawrence, I found mold in the back room by the garage. Do you guys realize how hard it is to fix this kind of thing? It involves a lot of work and apparently it's dangerous for your health. Guys, I already have enough to worry about concerning my health what with me eating pizza for five out of seven dinners a week. I don't need mold to come in and fuck this delicate system up. I won't go out like that.

Short story even shorter, I just complained at the leasing office and someone was by with bleach and all that other stuff they use to kill mold. It took, like, a day. If I had owned that townhouse, I would have either had to fix it myself or call someone (and pay them) to come fix it and that would have taken something longer than a day. So if I'm missing some upside to owning a home you can let me know because at this point I am seeing nothing except for being able to own 90 pound dogs as well as a cute little 30 pound dog and maybe even a cat (no one let me go near a pet store, I'm serious).

The other day I was sitting on the couch all innocently and such, probably watching something like American Pickers or Awkward (I'm a complex girl) when I started to hear dishes making noises in the sink. From my experience, dishes don't usually start moving around by themselves. My first reaction is to always yell "Louie!" to 1) see where he is and 2) make him stop whatever trouble he's getting into. This time he just so happened to be laying right next to me on the floor. I figured a cup had just slipped a little, no big deal.

A few seconds later there is a bigger clanging noise, now cups are definitely knocking against each other. What the shit is happening, ghosts don't exist.

APPARENTLY, sinks start THROWING UP water that they have swallowed earlier. And it's disgusting. The dishwasher hadn't been running so the sink just thought it was a good idea to act up for no reason at all because it's a sink and what else does it have to do, you know?

And turning the garbage disposal on does NOT work because the water goes down on one side of the sink and rises up on the other and it threatens to move from a mess in the sink to a mess all over the kitchen floor.

Thirty minutes later, two guys in blue jumpsuits were fixing my sink. And five minutes after that they were out the door. My sink was fixed, and I barely had to get off the couch.

I meant to take a picture and then completely forgot until I went to write this. WOOPS.

-A

I Am Not Cut Out For Improv

About a week ago, my roommate was going to be on a certain daytime talk show getting her hair cut by some celebrity hair stylist. I'm not quite sure how she got involved in that, but it in now way surprises me because this is the kind of stuff she does.

Because I'm super nice (and also because I had nothing else to do) I went to the taping of the show to see her "reveal" of her new hair style. Two things (unrelated to each other) you should know is that 1) I'm not going to say what show it was because I don't want you watching it and 2) my roommates hair is already gorgeous and it makes me hate her on the daily because I just can't do cool things with my hair.

We got to the lot super early for seemingly no reason whatsoever, and then sat around for two hours, super hungry and in need of coffee. Finally, at one in the afternoon, the show got on the road. The show's host came out and girls got excited and I had to fake a smile the whole time in case they filmed me, so that it would make the show look good. Smiling for no reason, while I'm just sitting there staring at a wall, is not my idea of a good time and it's kind of a lot of work. Am I wrong about this? I've never been able to understand people who smile, like, all the gd time. Then again, sometimes I do consider it because then maybe guys would stop trying to be all cute and flirty by telling me to smile when the only thing I'm doing is walking. It might be worth it. What are we talking about?

Oh, so my roommate comes out and of course looks great because her hair pretty much looks the same, only shorter, because what more could you do, ya know? But then, THEN, I had to stand up and talk to the show's host about what I think.

Now, I had some time to anticipate this because they had cut a few other people's hair that morning, and their friends and family had to talk about what they thought. So when I saw this happening, I knew that my time was coming.

Not only did I have to worry about answering some off-the-cuff question about my roommate's hair, but I was super conscious of the fact that there was a huge scratch all the way down my face because this was the morning after the Dog Incident of Twenty-Twelve. You guys saw a picture right after I had been brutally attacked, but the next day it was much worse (for realsies).

So the entire time they're "revealing" the other people, I'm searching through my head for something to say that doesn't sound completely stupid, but also doesn't sound really weird and creepy. Because when I'm nervous and put on the spot that is a thing that I do.

The time comes for my roommate to come out, and they show her Before Picture, and the host says, "her hair is already gorgeous" so I immediately know I'll work off that. Before I know it, my roommate is sitting on the couch with the stylist who cut her hair and I'm asked to stand up to talk to the host, and she asks what I think, and I say "well you were right, her hair was already awesome. So now I get to be even more jealous." Boom. People laughed and I was feeling pretty good with myself because, if you've spent time talking with me one-on-one you're probably aware that nothing makes me happier than when people genuinely laugh at something I say. I can't help it guys, I want to be funny, that's all I want but don't get me off topic.

BUT THEN. The stupid host has to KEEP TALKING TO ME and asks "well, do you want your hair cut?" I stop. In my mind I'm freaking out; I'm not prepared for the question and I'm terrible at improv. So the ONLY thing that comes out of my mind is an unintelligible "uuuhhhmmmmhhh" and then the host basically says, and I'm paraphrasing, "okay, weirdo, sit down now."

THIS IS MY LIFE NOW.

And it's also why I'll never try out improv comedy.

-A

UPDATE: This is why Darius is the best.

Dog Days

Once again I slept in late, but this time it was because I didn't sleep well the night before.
For some reason, since being here, it takes me a really long time to fall asleep. Which, I don't know if you know this, is one of the worst most frustrating things to ever happen to a person.

Once I finally managed to get out of bed (mostly because I heard my phone go off across the room), it didn't take long for me to be showered and at E's apartment. For those of you new to this whole thing, E is my best friend. We drove up to E's sisters house so that E could grab some things before she leaves town, and I was there mainly so that I could play with this little guy:

E's sister, J, sent me this picture Saturday night with the caption "Where's my good friend Al?"

We spent the day there (and at the mall) and then had a fantastic dinner before calling it a night. Mostly what I'm saying is I spent the day around people I like and dogs that are super freaking cute.

I got back to my apartment late but I was wanting to play with Louie, so I was on the ground messing with him and then Play Time went terribly wrong and I ended up getting my face mangled by my dog's nails. Nails, mind you, that I have been meaning to trim but have been putting off making the appointment. So this whole thing was Louie basically giving me the ol' middle finger to me not getting his nails trimmed and it's all my fault. Dogs, they can't just use their words.

And because immediately after it happened (well, after laying on the ground in pain for about five minutes too long), I knew I was going to blog about this and took a picture. To show you that my face WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.

That scratch goes down past my eyes, guys.

-A