And then they expected me to work for money….

And then they expected me to work for money….

So I now have a job…apparently I’m not even supposed to mention what this job is so I’ll just say I work as customer support for a cell phone company. Yay! Complain to me about your bills bitches! It’s so weird to have a 40 hour a week , 8 hours a day office job again. I guess coming from driving a truck, 8 hours of work doesn’t even seem like much, and we take a break every 2 hours. It almost seems…lazy. My trainer is kinda awesome. There are really two, but only one talks. To explain her…she’s from Guam…she has a wife and a son. Her personal heroes are Gordon Ramsey and Judge Judy.  A naked chick on a dragon was the first thing that popped into her mind when talking about offensive tattoos. Total…win. We got a security talk today. They ran us through the whole procedure of emergency situations and the such and during the discussion about shut-in emergencies, like weather…airborn terrorist attacks etc etc, we were warned that while we are not prisoner and allowed to leave in these situations, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, if we leave the building, we are not allowed back in. Win. 

It’s been over a month that I’ve gotten off the truck and I suppose it’s been pretty crazy. My sister’s car broke so I’ve been chauffeuring people around for a few weeks. Now my mother moved up here and everyone’s packed into this 3 bedroom apartment that’s tinier than hell, everyone just trying to get enough money to move out. 5 adults, 2 teens, 1 toddler.

Fun yeah?

So it’s apartment hunting time again. Now that everyone is employed. I need to get out of here. Not that I don’t appreciate my sister and her extremely loud family for being awesome and helping us in our time of need, but when I have to turn the damn TV up to almost max so I can hear what’s going on in Glee, it’s not a good day. And the kids keep walking in the room without knocking.

Not only that…but Guild Wars 2 is starting open beta next week. OMG. So stoked. So yeah I forked over $165 bucks for a video game. Go fuck yourself. Some people buy stuff like furniture and food. I buy video games. Well specifically that one. I only spent $90 on TERA which comes out the first of May and I’m not sure how long I’m going to play that one. Open Beta for that starts tomorrow. I’m going to have to sneak in sometime in the early morning to remake my character which I just rolled randomly to save my name.

And Glee is back on finally. After almost 2 months of hiatus, the last 8 episodes of the season are showing. I shouldn’t be as addicted to this show as I am, but it’s good mental fluff. Anyway, that about sums up where I am now. Now for an animated gif.

 

Martha Fucking Stewart Bitches~!

Martha Fucking Stewart Bitches~!

So today is the 1 month point of me being off my truck.  I have been going a little insane but I’ve been being pretty productive. I got a job but that doesn’t start for another 2 weeks so instead I’ve been looking up random decoration ideas…from food to cards to random crap in general. Today and the last couple days I’ve been like Martha fucking Stewart and shit. So..here’s a few things I did…

Slices of Jello Shots… (Stolen from here)

 

Deviled Egg Chicks (Stolen from here)

       
Easter Cupcakes, Pork Laulau, Potato Stamps

  

 

Last Day of Youth…

Last Day of Youth…

So, today is the last day of what I consider to be young. Goodbye twenties hello thirties. It’s a little funny because I always wondered why tv shows and movies always made fun of people turning 30, as if the difference between how you feel on your birthday and the day before is supposed to be so vast. I suppose I was a little naive. I mean sure, I probably won’t feel very different tomorrow than I do today…because in my mind I guess I’m already old.

I was chatting with an old friend the other day. I say an old friend, but really she’s 6 days younger than I am. We grew apart in high school and rarely spoke in adult hood. In fact I think the last time I saw her was either my 20th or 22nd birthday. I know it wasn’t my 21st because the last thing I wanted was to drink on my 21st birthday, after we’d already been drinking for a few years. In fact I pretty much had to be dragged out by another friend to have my first legal drink which I didn’t even get carded for. I digress. We were talking about how we’ve grown apart, wanting or not wanting kids, marriage, etc etc, and I told her that no matter how distant our friendship, I can still say I’ve known her for half my life. Then of course she pointed out that if we had kids when we met, they’d be graduating high school this year. Ugh to that.

Over the last year and a half I’ve had a lot of time to think about a lot of things. From relationships, to tv shows, to just random moments in history. I am fucking old. Now, I’m not old in the sense that my mother would look at me and be like ‘if you’re old then what am I?’, but really it’s more that I’ve changed a lot. I like to think that I haven’t changed a lot since high school, but I guess I can’t keep that up. Granted, the event I’m most looking forward to in the near future is a video game convention, and my favorite tv show is about high school kids singing and dancing, I’ve totally changed.

Examples? Let’s see, as mentioned I was totally having a conversation with my friend about babies, marriage, and memories from high school. Only old people do that. Despite my brothers recent blunders trying to get tickets to Comicon, usually calls to him revolve around my sister’s kids, or recipes for pot roast and meatballs. Plans made to meet friends are plans for sushi instead of drinks at a pub. Going to a show used to mean going to see a local band that will never make it out of the state perform. Now I hear show and I think of Wicked or Mamma Mia, which I would rather see instead of beating off the hordes of crazy lesbians at an Ani Difranco show or edging around a mosh pit at a Rage  Against the Machine concert. The idea of an office job is much more appealing than being in a truck driving across the country. I would rather save my money to visit my grandmother, than plan a trip to Disneyworld. Instead of pop tarts and pepsi for breakfast, my breakfasts normally consisted of Raisin Bran Crunch, a banana, and some juice.

Despite having my intestines blow up, the 20s were pretty damn good to me. I’ll miss them just as much as I miss the 4 years I spent culminating the best friendships I can ever hope to achieve in life. Friendships that allow you to just start talking to someone after almost 10 years of not talking as if it had only been a week. So 30s, fucking bring it, because I can say that my life has been pretty good.  And…well, to shove it to the man the way that only old people can do, I’m going to have a bowl of udon and Pepsi for breakfast. Cause I’m a rebel…or as rebellious as someone who’s old and decrepit as I am can be.

The Great American Birthday Rush of Doom

The Great American Birthday Rush of Doom

So with one of those impending milestone birthdays approaching on the 6th of March, one has to sit around and reflect back on the life they led, the accomplishments they made, and the lives they’ve changed. Myself, I’m just sitting here wondering if it would be lame to ask Naya Rivera to wish me a happy birthday on twitter.  Hah. Actually I’m usually put off by celebrities re-tweeting people asking to be re-tweeted for charities and random occasions. Granted I’d be frigging ecstatic if out of the blue the entire cast of Glee and all of my favorite bloggers tweeted for me to have a happy birthday, I’m not going to ask them to do it. I was contemplating sending a birthday request to Nathan Fillion to take a picture of himself with twine so that for my birthday, The Bloggess would get her year-long wish granted, but I’m thinking if he did take a picture now, it would ruin the wonder that has become of his reluctance to grant the wish (see the wonder here). In reality, I’m hoping that maybe this year I’ll be too busy to even check twitter, but I doubt it.

I’ve actually been in a ball of uncertainty and dread this past week, and I still am to an extent. For the first part, I requested to have my birthday off as I did last year, but last year March 6th came around and I found myself sitting alone in my truck in a truck stop in Gary, Indiana wondering how my life had taken such a weird turn. So, a month ago I called my driver manager and told him ‘Look man, I’m going to be straight up with you. If I’m in my truck in some random truck stop again on my birthday, I’m probably going to stay up the whole night curled in a ball crying.’ And I’ll be damned if he hasn’t mentioned that at least once a week, saying he didn’t want to be responsible for me sitting on my truck crying. Two days ago, I found myself resolved to doing just that as I was on a load delivering in Connecticut (though I shit you not it was a load of live fish packed in boxes going to petsmart!), about as far away from Washington state as you can get without leaving the country.

Yesterday after delivery I found myself on a very rare load picking up in New York and delivering in Portland, Oregon on the 5th. It’s like this load, was pretty much made for me. Then I asked my driver manager why he couldn’t find me something getting to Washington…cause I’m an asshole. Then after having to park after pick up because both my trainee and myself ran out of hours to drive, I woke up to about 8 inches of snow on the ground and it still was snowing. I finally understood all those lectures in winter workshops at the main terminal about drivers making stupid decisions because they were in a hurry to get home, because sure as shit I had my student help me dig the truck out so we could get rolling. Now, in credit to myself, I did verify that the roads weren’t too messed up to drive on and I got the approval of the safety department to roll. Albany was expecting another 6-10 inches and hell if I was going to get stuck there. After 3 hours of driving slowly through slush-covered roads and a steady fall of snow, I finally emerged to somewhat dry lands around Rochester, NY. Now we have 4 more days after today to get to the other side of the country and deliver this crap. I’m just hoping that nothing else gets in my way. Like the fact that my trainee refuses to drive at night or in moderately bad weather.

No Me Gusta! I’m pretty sure my cd-burner is a douche bag

No Me Gusta! I’m pretty sure my cd-burner is a douche bag

So, here I am trying to burn a disc and I’m pretty sure my cd-burner is either a douche bag…or racist. I can’t figure out which. Maybe it’s jealous because everything else on the truck has a name, and it doesn’t? Maybe because it’s confused of it’s purpose. Maybe it’s because I rarely burn discs and it’s like ‘well you never pay any attention to me, why the hell should I help you?’

I’m trying to burn Glee CD’s…no I’m not burning them to sell or anything, though I always think it would be hilarious to go truck to truck seeing who would like to partake in the awesomeness that is Glee with me. You see I have this problem where I never remember to stop my iPod when I park, and I never remember to charge it, so really I need to make CDs in the event that I find myself driving down the road with nothing but the 20 songs that’s on satellite radio playing over and over again.

My drive is some stupid cd-rw/dvd-rw/bd-rom stupid piece of crap and I’m pretty sure it’s racist. I bought these Memorex Color CD-Rs and my drive burned on the red and blue just fine but as soon as I put the black disc in, it was all ‘please insert a blank disc’ and no it won’t burn anything anymore. Seriously drive don’t you realize it’s like 2012, and not like 1950? Either that, or it’s a douche bag. Seriously I just want to burn a new disc because I need to replicate the giddy joy I feel every time I hear Naya Rivera’s awesome voice changing to pick up the lines of Nicki Minaj’s Fly. Seriously.

So CD burner…I have but one thing to say you

Welcome Aboard Kitty VonCupcake-pants

Welcome Aboard Kitty VonCupcake-pants

So, I found this wonderfully awesome cupcake maker at Target. Now, I have been contemplating buying a cupcake maker since I first saw one about 6 months ago or so at a Big Lots. Now, the one I saw was a more sedate version and sure, who wouldn’t want a cupcake maker when you’re not allowed access to a full-ranged oven? So it was put on my list of things to buy for the truck whenever I had a few extra dollars.

Fast forward to December where I’m back in Washington shopping for Christmas presents with my sister at Target. We’re wandering down the toy aisle and low and behold, on the clearance rack I see none other than everyone’s favorite feline adorning the cover no less than the most awesome cupcake maker on the planet of the Earth. Now…I would think that the only thing greater than biting off bits of Hello Kitty’s face, would be a Cylon cupcake maker. If they make those, then I need to find one to go on my list of shit I want but will never have because it’s too expensive, much like the Cylon toaster.

So, I tried out my new non-furry furry-friend cupcake maker, and while I did have to make a few adjustments to recipes (aka more water), it’s friggin awesome. I do have to keep reminding myself that I need to leave a little room for rising or else the cupcakes end up suuuuuper dense. But now I can have awesomeness anywhere I drive, because this cupcake maker is just pure awesomeness.

Now would be a good time for a zombie apocalypse, or really anything to put me out of my misery

Now would be a good time for a zombie apocalypse, or really anything to put me out of my misery

You know how you imagine some people start tweaking when they have too much caffeine? Well imagine me making those same twitchy movements, but not due to an overdose of caffeine or any mood-altering drugs that would actually have a benefit. Instead imagine that me, a person that has been drinking at a minimum 2 or 3 cans of soda a day for pretty much as long as I can remember, is giving up soda. I don’t really know what brainiac moment came over me that I decided to do this, but I haven’t had any carbonated beverages to drink in 4 days now. A friend of mine who had also given up soda a few years ago mentioned I’m supposed to feel awesome a few days after I give it up. I’m still waiting.

It’s really not that hard while I’m on the road. I mean there are a lot of substitutes that I can find and oddly enough I’ve been drinking this weird blueberry pomegranate V8 fusion thing that’s pretty tasty. Really the difficult moment is when I’m forced to eat out and the waitress is like ‘what can I get ya to drink, honey?’ and my response wants to be ‘whatever fucking pepsi you have in the building’ and I say something like ‘water’ or ‘apple juice’.

Sigh.

I must be stupid or something.

A fucking zombie apocalypse needs to happen like right now so I can stop wanting to drink Pepsi.

We screened you for ‘dying’ and it came back positive

We screened you for ‘dying’ and it came back positive

I’m a truck driver. Anyone who reads this should know that by now. If you don’t, then…I’m a truck driver. There now you know. So I’m at the main terminal for my once every 3 months visit, which is a long and arduously exasperating experience of safety workshops and log book reviews and whatever the administrative equivalent of rape is.

Apparently for putting a truck in a ditch a month ago, I was forced to perform like a circus monkey, driving around suburban Dallas proving I can make left and right turns in a truck. In addition to that, watching videos and listening to CDs of 10 year old lectures, I was “randomly” selected for a drug test. Yeah…”random”…right. Anyway, I did that this morning and they gave me a paper to get signed by about 50 thousand people, or just 2, but it was still very inconvenient. When I went to return the paper, the girl at the window went back to talk with someone and came back and said “You have to come back tomorrow.”

What does that mean? As if to try to reassure me she adds:

“Don’t worry. They’ll be nice.”

I’m sure what they detected was the plague I’ve been infected with for the past few days. I’m expecting them to sit me down tomorrow and be like:

“Yeah, we screened you for Dying, and it came back positive.”

That has to be it. I don’t do drugs. I don’t drink. I did have some DayQuill yesterday. Maybe it was that. I realize that they also screen for blood sugar. Taking in the fact that yesterday I had like 4 Pepsis, candy and some Chinese food at the end of the day.

And an ice cream bar.

And today I had like 3 Pepsis.

And an ice cream bar.

And Chinese food for breakfast.

I think tomorrow I should have Raisin Bran Crunch and a banana for breakfast. It’s my usual breakfast, but the idea of having Chinese food for breakfast for the first time in months was so tantalizing, it was unavoidable.

The plague ate my brain so I made a death mask…

The plague ate my brain so I made a death mask…

I’ve been moderately sick for about a week now, and pretty fucking sick for the past day. My nose has been alternating between resembling that of the Hoover Dam, to resembling the Nile River. I’m also pretty sure there’s a frog living in my throat, or a rat…now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure it’s a rat because only a rat would make it so damn dry, and proceed to try to claw it’s way up and out.  Between sniffling and coughing and for some reason an odd amount of tears that are pouring out with no emotional attachment to them, what was worse was the damn hives I started getting yesterday. Now I’ve had hives before, and I know well enough not to scratch them or they just spread like a forest fire. So after the first 5 or 6 bumps started popping up, I had to repeat to myself “Don’t scratch, Don’t scratch, Don’t scratch!” Then for some reason it was like my body decided to reject the tattoos it’s had for years. My tattoos on both arms started swelling up as huge hives and it was fucking painful as all hell. But, alas the swelling has gone down, but I think my brain is lacking oxygen. So in preparation for my impending death, or Día de los Muertos, whichever comes first, I made a mask.