Posted by Rebecca
Fri, 15 Aug 2008 15:40:00 GMT
Ever felt like you were just about done? Out of energy, out of patience, out of steam?
Maybe even out of caring?
I’m there today. Yesterday was absolutely terrible. I spent a few minutes in tears in the bathroom at work. I was about ready to quit my job, even though I love the people. I didn’t love a single one of them yesterday. I went to work early, got home late, and didn’t get anything done. Because of people.
I hadn’t slept well the night before because I was waking up hourly with cramps, and pretty much all day I couldn’t get them to go away. I probably about put a hole in my stomach because I took so much advil.
My nerves are so raw. Everything tiny little thing annoys the crap out of me. I feel like I may remove the head of the next person who smacks their gum around me, or incessantly taps their pencil in class, or eases over into the turn lane without using their directional.
There were two small redeeming factors from last night that sort of salvaged the day and gave me what I needed to come into work today.
1) I got three pages of my four page paper written. Yup. That’s right. After all that yesterday, I had to write a paper. Fanfreakingtastic.
2) I got to spend a little time with Dom in my own home. No concrete floors. No unfinished walls. No wallpaper shreds all over the kitchen. It was comfortable and relaxing and exactly what I needed. He somehow managed to completely diffuse the ticking time bomb that was me, just by being himself. He’s awesome like that.
I’m hoping that this weekend will provide me with some much needed down time. Otherwise, it won’t be pretty come Monday.
Posted in Pissed Off | no comments
Posted by Rebecca
Wed, 13 Aug 2008 21:07:00 GMT
…but apparently other people are asking this question too.
Posted in Questions? | 1 comment
Posted by Rebecca
Wed, 13 Aug 2008 20:24:00 GMT
I’m sitting at my computer, head aching as I plod through the piles of work all over my desk. The fall semester starts in two weeks. Orientation is next week. I’m busy.
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I look at the screen. Mom.
I’m ignoring the call, thinking I can return her call when I get home.
Then I get a single vibration. A message alert. She left a voice mail. It’s important.
I’m listening to the message. “Rebecca, this is your mother. Call home as quickly as possible.”
My blood pressure rises, my pulse quickens, and a thousand million bad thoughts rush though my head.
Is something wrong with dad? Is my brother ok? What about his wife? Their kids? What happened? Did my dog finally die?
So I call home. My mother relays this breaking news.
My mother’s urgency is due to the fact that, and I quote my dear mom, “The democratic chairman was the younger son of the brother of the father of the neighbor boy you grew up with.”
O.
K.
Glad I about had a heart attack over the crazed shooting of someone I never met before in my life. Not to trivialize the seriousness of this incident or the value of a human’s life, but seriously. Not the kind of scare I need right now, or ever, really.
Posted in Various and Sundry | 2 comments
Posted by Rebecca
Sun, 10 Aug 2008 04:44:00 GMT
Nifty.
Way Nifty.
Thanks to Dylan for sending these to me.
no comments
Posted by Rebecca
Fri, 08 Aug 2008 18:59:00 GMT
…if Sirius Black,
in shaggy dog form,
is really G’mork.
Posted in Oh, the silliness of me! | 1 comment
Posted by Rebecca
Fri, 08 Aug 2008 13:21:00 GMT
Here’s the video of the Chapman family interview on ABC’s Good Morning America. You may need tissues.
Videos from Larry King:
Larry King’s thoughts
Interview with the family
Maria’s last message
no comments
Posted by Rebecca
Wed, 06 Aug 2008 19:51:00 GMT
Dear Uncle Sam,
You suck, sir. Suck. I’m an American, true blue and I can say whatever the hell I want. I’m still American, bite me.
You suck because you are chicken shit. Yep. You are. Afraid of ideas. Big hulking scary ideas. They hide under your bed at night, listening to you breathe. Once your breathing changes into that of precious REM sleep, they climb out, drooling their contagious communist ooze all over your room before gobbling you up and turning you into idea poop.
That means you’ve got to get the jump on them. These idea monsters have got to be stopped. They can’t go breed more. We just can’t let it happen.
So you plot and plan and appeal to the poor and the rowdy and convince them, force them to go kill your monsters with guns and gunnies and grenades. Napalm. Dioxin. Kill the monsters and take out the innocent you protect and your men who protect them. You chicken shit bastard.
Homesick boys. Bring the boys home, sick. Legs blown off and deaf, mysterious burning rashes and chronic nightmares. Bone degeneration and nerve damage. Box up the rest and ship them U.S. Mail. Postage is cheap.
That’s the price for what you call freedom. Freedom for who? Freedom from what? You, sir, are a fat ass coward.
Let me ask you this. What is the price of man? What of his mother, father, brothers, sisters, wife, children, grandchildren? What of their years on earth? What do they cost you?
Nothing. You spend them like pennies - too many to count and kind of a nuisance to keep up with anyway.
Forty-one years in a war that was never won. Forty-one years, ka-POW in the brain, stuck in the jungle, can’t get home.
Now I am the enemy. My name is Charlie. See? I look just like him. Don’t spill the milk on the floor, or you’ll get a grenade for your birthday. Eat all your dinner, or get the M-16 for dessert. Senseless and thought it was my fault.
Thought it was daddy’s fault.
Your fault. He pays. Did time. Lost love. I pay. A lot. You took his youth and mine you selfish son of bitch.
The war rages on. It is not my war. It never was. But I have no choice but to fight it. Every damn day I fight it. I hope you burn forever.
Babies sitting on hills of stinging, biting ants. The screams. Their screams. Listen. Listen to them screaming! See their red faces. Drink their tears. Watch them die. Watch them get eaten.
Can’t help them. Booby trap.
Headline: U.S. invades life of twelve year-old American girl, innocence confiscated. Experts say she will never be the same again.
You took our lives before we drew breath, because you took his.
How do you sleep? He doesn’t. Put him prison, he doesn’t do his job. He doesn’t do anything.
We are out of ammo. Our radio is busted, no air support. The enemy surrounds us. Who will kill our monsters?
Where are you, Uncle Sam? Why have you abandoned your red, white and blue friends? Why have you left us alone?
Bitterly,
Your niece.
Posted in Various and Sundry | no comments
Posted by Rebecca
Wed, 06 Aug 2008 13:58:00 GMT
You can read the transcript here.
If I can find a video later, I’ll post a link to it. The interview was just this morning so I don’t know how long it will take for the GMA website to post it.
Posted in Various and Sundry | no comments
Posted by Rebecca
Wed, 30 Jul 2008 19:47:00 GMT
Caroline: Scrubs apparently gives her dog a treat just for going to the bathroom.
Becks: Wow. I can’t believe she gives her a dog a treat for normal bodily functions.
Caroline: Exactly! Her vet told her that her dog is overweight, and no wonder! She always gets treats.
Becks: Haha, same problem with Americans. They are all overweight because they get too many treats.
Caroline: Right. You peed, here’s a burger!
Becks: Or in my case - It’s Thursday, time for ice cream. It’s Friday, time for ice cream. It’s Saturday, time for ice cream….
Caroline: lol, I’m having to stay away from stupid Amy’s.
Becks: It’s tough. I’ve discovered HEB Creamy Creations Chocolate Chip ice cream, and damn, it’s good. And cheap.
Caroline: Oh no!
Becks: Yeah, very bad
Caroline: That sounds amazing
Becks: I’ve pretty much learned that if I even walk into the ice cream isle at the store I will get ice cream, so I have to stay away from the isle.
::Pause::
Becks: aisle. sheesh. But an Ice Cream Isle would be pretty cool. The Isle of Ice Cream.
Caroline: Indeed! I’m imagining it right now….
Becks: I see…upside down waffle cones with waterfalls of hot fudge streaming out of them….the sand on the shore is colored sprinkles….the boulders are scoops of different flavors……what do you see?
Caroline: lol now that you’ve described that delectable scene, it’s all I can think about
Becks: ha ha ha. well, Marci would love it. It would be really cold.
Caroline: The cliffs would be made of chocolate chip cookie dough chunks. So that I can just walk up to them and grab a bite.
Becks: ooooh, good addition.
Caroline: You’re right, Marci would die happy there.
::Pause::
Caroline: Something needs to be made of dark chocolate. The tree trunks? The tree leaves can be mint chocolate.
Becks: I foresee a blog entry in the making….
Caroline: lol, such a refreshing post it would be!
Becks: Indeed.
Posted in Various and Sundry, Oh, the silliness of me! | 2 comments
