God, even when I’m not being awkward, I still come across as awkward.

My suite-mates are having some party deal in the commons of our room… some guys are over. I decided that I wanted to run outside and smoke a cigarette, halfway down the hall, I realized I’d forgotten my student ID and my key to get back in.

This wouldn’t be such a big deal if I hadn’t made eye-contact with one of the guys that are hanging out in the room, froze, and said “Oh shit.” I immediately turned around and went back into my room to grab my stuff, and this is what I hear:

“So your roommate, the short one, was coming down the hall. She saw me, turned right back around and went into her room.” This was followed by a loud roar of laughter from every damn person in my suite.

Okay.

So, I’m socially awkward. But I’m not THAT freaking awkward. Give me a little credit here, guys.

My timing sucks.

Congratulations , and welcome to the University of Rochester!

Hell yes.

I've been accepted.

There are no words to describe this feeling that I'm feeling.

Oh Blog, How I Have Neglected You...

I apologize for my distance, things have been crazy, but you've never left my mind.

Am I forgiven?

Oh, good then.

Anyway, since my last blog post (which will from now on be referred to as "Epic-BEDA-Fail"), several things have happened. I've graduated from the community college I've been attending (and led the freaking procession... who's a badass? This girl right here!), completely annihilated all of my finals, read countless books, took on more hours at work, and finished my various transfer applications - so far, with nothing to show for it.

So now, I'm simply waiting to hear from them, waiting to know whether or not I'll be able to leave my job dumping bladder pads, meat and tortilla shells into ("paper, or plastic?") bags, smiling so much that my cheeks feel swollen and freezing my toes off for $7.75 an hour, pack my bags and flee to the first college that mails me an acceptance letter.

As whiny and contrived as this may sound, I'm starting to feel like if I don't leave my area soon... I'll probably never get out of here. You know that Thomas Wolfe book, You Can't Go Home Again? Yeah... well... that doesn't quite apply to my town. It's essentially the Palm Springs of New York, and, while beautiful and quaint, it is still just a place where people come to die. I'm sure that once I'm gone and look back on all the time I spent splashing around in the three-foot-deep creek with all three of the teenagers that lived in town with me, drinking Busch Light and tequila under a pavillion at the Fireman's Park that nobody uses and watching Grounded For Life in my friend's basement every effing day of my freshman year of high school, I'll miss it.

Actually, no, I probably won't. What little time I've spent in cities has made me realize that that's where I belong, a place where everything is truly alive and going at all hours of the day, where there's always something happening and silence isn't an issue. Because, even though I plan on working with deaf people... they're the loudest group of people I've ever been around.

I want to be somewhere that will shake the death off of my skin, where I can stretch out my legs and explore a town that consists of more than three connected streets, a swingset and a post office. Somewhere where not everyone will know me, where I can just start over fresh and actually do things that make me happy without having to explain myself to everyone.

To quote Beth (also known as Ginger Tits and Jessica Rabbit), "[I'm] a goldfish...'cause [I'm] in a tiny bowl. So [I've] gotta get in a big bowl, and [I'll] expand and grow."

I need to switch tanks, because living in this tiny goldfish bowl is making me feel cramped.

This is my post for today.

Read two books.

About 2/3's through another one.

Hell to the yes.

I feel like god.

More of my books came in!

Thank god all but a couple were for my project, now I don't have to keep chomping down on my nails all nervous and stuff about not being able to get all of my books read and the write up finished before the due date. Or at least, I'm hoping I will. I've got a decent chunk of them read so far, but... guh.

And since we're talking about Lit classes, I haven't even started my World Lit paper yet, which will be a pain in the ass to write, as all of those papers are.

However, I did take a break from my school reading to read my copy of Saul Williams's ,Said the Shotgun to the Head. For those of you who haven't heard of it (I'm guessing quite a few of you haven't), it is a 180-something page poem about a man so blown away by a kiss that it completely rattles his brain frequencies. It's intense, and very quotable and I love it and, if I had enough skin I'd get the entire effing thing tattooed on me this. instant.

But since I don't, I can only dream... and possibly settle for one of my favorites, of which there are many.

I'm fairly certain my math professor was drunk or at least slightly buzzed in class today. I mean, he usually goes off on tangents and acts rather flamboyantly, plus, he's always bitching about how the 6:30-9:15 class cuts into martini time, but uh... pretty sure he had martini time a little early this evening, because... homeboy was nuts.

Other than that, I really don't have anything all that exciting to talk about. I still haven't found the time to read City of Fallen Angels, which freaking slays me, because I've looked forward to this book for what feels like ages and it's just sitting in my room taunting me.

Gonna end this now, it's as close to a proper blog post as I've gotten in a few days, so... enjoy!

More to come tomorrow.

Too exhausted to blog.

Guinness cupcakes were a success.
Other than that, today = pretty boring.

Happening Now.

Guiness Cupcakes. Heck yes.

Simple truths

So, here we are again, Dear Reader.

Work last night was insane, and not in the “holy crap there are so many customers I can't even pause to take a breath” kind of insane. We're talking the “Oh my sweet baby Jesus, if someone doesn't come into my lane sometime soon and give me a break from facing all the candy for the 50^th time, I'm going to jam this counterfeit pen into my eye socket” kind of insane.

Normally, I'd save the post for later on this evening since I get out of work at 4:00 today, but I know that would be a bad idea simply because of the crazy amount of reading that I have to do for my classes. So, this is what you get today.

Currently, I'm watching Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on HBO, drinking my usual insane amount of coffee and trying to come up with a to-do list for things I have to get done this evening before I have to get around and ready for work. It sounds so boring, but when you're running on about three hours sleep and sort of feel like a hamster on the wheel and have for the last several days, it's about all my poor brain can handle.

Life is getting stressful, as it always does at this point in the semester, what with professors trying to get everything finished before finals week and the bum rush to get every single project and assignment done on time. Not only that, but doing all of the transfer stuff that I have left, stressing about whether or not I'll get accepted and wondering what I'm going to do if I don't get into any of the colleges I've applied to. The paperwork is insane, graduation is a little more than a month away, and all I can think about doing is stress on how it's all coming to an end.

If things go the way I've planned, I'll be leaving my home, leaving my family and friends and going a few hours away to a college where I don't know anybody, don't know the area, and am left completely on my own. It's a terrifying feeling, and I've never been good with drastic change.

I swear, I don't have time for the nervous breakdown that I deserve.

Half-Assed Blog

Because I can't really be bothered to do a proper one today.

Things are still boring.

Got City of Fallen Angels in the mail this afternoon, and can't read it until the semester's finished because I have an insane amount of books that I still have to read for my YA Lit project. It's a bummer. But ah well, so it goes.

Closing again tonight, woo fun wow.

Taking a break from the friends thing.

I got some of my books in the mail today! But that's not what I want to talk about, although I am going to talk about books.

So, I went to the library, because the books I ordered for my project haven't showed up yet and I figured I should probably get cracking on that if I'm expected to finish all 18 of them and get the stuff in on time. Anyway, MOVING ON!

I was in the Young Adult Section, as I usually am because I live for that shit, and stumbled upon some John Green books. Curious, I decided that I would check for nerdfighter notes, while there were none in the books, I did find something that caused my heart to swell immediately. In the backs of all of these books at the library, a sheet is placed inside with little boxes for readers to write comments and things. Every. Single. One of those books had things like "DFTBA", "www.youtube.com/vlogbrothers" and "http://effyeahnerdfighters.tumblr.com", etc.

Now, this may not be a huge deal in some areas, but in mine... it's massive. The nerdfighter population in my area was practically ZERO until I'd convinced my friends that they were, in fact, nerdfighters, and introduced them to the vlogbrothers. Seeing those comments just reminded me that I'm not the only one in my area who feels this way and who looks forward to spreading the message.

That's really all that I had to say. Honestly, it totally made my day amazing.

So, Olean, New York nerdfighters... find me somewhere! We'll see if we can set up a gathering!!

Friends, cont.

So, before I continue with the listing off of my friends, I'd just like to let everyone know that The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness showed up in the mail today and I'm... omg whoa excited. It's not part of my project, but since none of those books have showed up yet, I've taken the liberty of starting it. I've just finished the first part, and so far, it's spectacular. Of course, I quit there so that I could take the time to do a quick blog before maybe reading a few more chapters before going to bed. However, I did leave off at a massive cliffhanger, so this is probably going to be insanely rushed.

Anyway, moving on.

Alex Mager (pronounced Major), also known as “Mager”, and “Bob Dole”, only because we have two Alexes (see previous post). However, while he's also a card and anime nerd, he is a lot more talkative than my manfriend. Not only that, but he falls a lot more on the hippie side of the spectrum.

Now, I'm of the opinion that every individual should have a friend that, when the two of you start thinking alike, everyone should get scared. Mager is that friend for me, and here's why: I can come up with the basic idea of something, and then Mager is able to completely develop it so that together, we can figure out how to get it done. When we put our minds to it, we could easily give 4chan a run for their money and get our kicks by completely mindfucking people. He's one of my most quotable friends, and, so far, my favorite is probably “You know why Hitler originally started burning books? 'Cause he got an advanced copy of Twilight.” Trust me, he'll probably make several appearances in this blog.

Pikachu, also known as “Kyle”. Some of you may be thinking Kami, why did you put his nickname first, when with the others, you gave their real names and then stated their nicknames? My, how observant of you, dear reader! The answer is simple: I had no idea what this kid's name was until I'd already known him for about three months.

As weird as this may sound, it's actually fairly normal for me – I'm absolutely horrible with names; I mean, I have to ask someone what their name is five or six times before it sticks, and even then, if something happens where I don't see you for a week or something like that... you may as well prepare yourself to be assaulted with another five or six “er... really sorry, but uh... what's your name again?” Honestly, show me a picture of somebody I saw once three or four years ago and then stick them in front of me after they've cut off all their hair, dyed it and gotten a face tattoo or something, and I'd know who they are within seconds. However, tell me your name, and about fifteen minutes later, I'm trying to figure out how to ask you again without looking like a total douche.

But I digress, back to Pikachu. He's my go-to guy for piggy back rides and geeking out about viral videos on youtube. Together, we geek out about cheesecake filling on double chocolate chip muffins from Subway, steers me on the ice while screaming “SAIL, FAILBOAT, SAIL!” because I walk like a drunken newborn giraffe when snow is thrown into the equation. While I only see him two days a week, a lot of good times are made between the two of us.


Aaaaaand, I'm out of steam for the night. More tomorrow.

The Friend Chronicles

I'd like to just take a break from talking about how boring my life is, and instead, over the next few days, introduce you to the fine, upstanding individuals that are my friends:

The first: Alex, also known as “the manfriend”, or “the boyfriend”, depending on what kind of mood I'm in when I'm blogging. This June, we'll have been together for three years, he's lived with me for... about two of those? But yeah. Anyway, about the manfriend, as far as nerds go, he (along with the majority of the people you're about to hear about) is one of the card game and anime variety. He plays just about everything you can think of, Pokemon, Magic the Gathering, Yu-Gi-Oh!, but on top of that, he's pretty much a human calculator. He is the Daniel Biss to my John Green, and on several occasions, I've had to ask him for some calculation and even wound up going “Whoa... okay, seriously, that fast?!” While normally being really quiet, he has an undying love for really lame jokes, Guitar Hero and black dress pants.

Oh, and he smells good.

Beth, also known as “Ginger Tits”, “Amazon Woman”, “Jessica Rabbit” and “BJ Mack”. Our friendship was formed over the fact that I knew scores of obscure bands and her desperation to find one that I'd never heard of. She stands at at least 6 feet tall and has the hugest boobs I have ever seen. I often find myself wondering how she manages to stand in an upright position, considering how tiny the rest of her body is and have asked her this on several occasions. All of that aside though, we're very similar individuals, and she's probably the closest thing to a sister that I'll ever have. We're incapable of going out in public together without someone there to play the voice of reason, else we'd probably get arrested or banned from every building in my area. Not only is she an incredibly free spirit who doesn't have enough time to let herself soar, she's a frakking AMAZING artist, so much so that I've actually gotten one of her pieces tattooed on me, and I'm trying to talk her into designing a couple others for that very reason.

Troy, Beth's boyfriend. We all met him at Beth's former college, where he'd interjected into a conversation on how to create and awkward situation by saying: “You wanna know how to make someone feel awkward? Ask them if they can describe their grandmother's vagina.” It was that very second that I knew we would be friends with this guy. I didn't know, however, that almost two years later, he would make probably the coolest boyfriend Beth has ever had, and he's easily the favorite big-brother-friend that I have. Although I really miss his Jew-fro.

Coffee and Walmart Excursions. Life is Good.

So, all in all, today has been more exciting than others. The second the manfriend and I got to the college, we were dragged off for a Subway run. Now, the Subway we go to is in the Mall literally right in the backyard of the Community College I attend, so we just walk. Since it was before 11:00 AM, and my friends had coupons for free coffees with breakfast sandwiches, I, being the only coffee drinker in the group, seriously struck lucky.

Since there's a “one coupon per purchase” rule, I took one coupon, Pikachu took another, and the manfriend took the third one. We bought our breakfast sandwiches, me: a sub, muffin and three coffees richer, practically jitterbugging in all of my excitement and my friends cracking jokes the whole walk back.

By the time we got back to the school, it was time to go to class. I didn't even bother putting my things down, just sauntered up to the room, cradling my coffees and swinging the sub bag with the muffin container tucked inside by my pinky. Needless to say, the looks I got from my acting class as I strolled in grinning like the Cheshire Cat on ecstasy were only the beginning.

See, my friend Mager and I found a recipe for these cupcakes that one can make using our favorite brand of beer, Guinness, and have made it a goal to make said cupcakes and feast on them merrily. He had the Guinness, and I had everything else, with the exception of a few ingredients.

This meant one thing for my group: Walmart Trip.

Now, this may not seem terribly exciting to anyone else, but for us, a trip to Walmart is pretty much the equivalent of a parent taking their child to Disney World and then giving them free reign to do whatever they want. My friends and I are a rambunctious group of individuals anyway, but if you take us to Walmart with no adult or responsible peer to babysit us, and we completely lose our shit.

In other words, we are every Walmart employee's worst nightmare.

Twenty minutes later, we were still roaming the aisles, playing Marco Polo and having a good old fashioned scavenger hunt for the things that we needed. Old ladies doing their grocery shopping stopped and stared, children stood up from their places in the bottom of the carts and peered on in fascination while their mothers shoved them away from us a little faster after we let out loud strings of curses for one offense or another.

It was mayhem.
And it was insanely fun.

As we hunted around the refrigerated aisles looking for sour cream, Mager constantly grabbed random things:

“This it?”

“No, Mager. That's cheese.”

“This it?”

“No, that's Vince's arm.”

“How about this?”

“No. That's-” I cut off in mid-sentence, mouth already filling with saliva at the label. “How much does that cost?”

“$4.23, why?”

“... Give it here.” When he handed it over to me, I thrust it into the air. “FUCK YES, CHEESECAKE FILLING!”

Without a second though, I crammed it into the inside of my elbow, placing it comfortably between the confectionery sugar and Cocoa. Aside from my hair dye, it was literally the most expensive thing I've bought today. We cashed out and made our way back to the car, blasting Mindless Self Indulgence's “Get it Up” and peeled out of the parking lot back to the college.

While not being incredibly exciting, it was still damn fun. Hopefully I'll have more to write about tomorrow, but I doubt it, seeing as how most of that time is going to be spent doing my Problem Solving homework for the 6:30-9:15 PM class I've got tomorrow night.

I know, I know, I should probably look at it before the day off and it's insanely stupid to do it that way. But god, I've got so much other crap to do, the last thing I want to really think about is math.

Anyway, I'm turning in for the night.

Until tomorrow!

I Am Number Four = I Am Disappoint.

The book was amazing!

I don't understand how they could butcher a film like that, I mean, okay, I know that film companies like to take some liberties when it comes to turning a book into a movie... but seriously?!

I mean, seriously!

Ugh, my disgust right now knows now bounds.

The cast was fantastic, Teresa Palmer as Six = brilliant, even though she doesn't fit the description and her Australian accent sorta came out here and there. Still, she was good.

Honestly, if they do this to the Hunger Games....

sdhglkajdsghlakdjghg -snarl-

But since Suzanne Collins is writing the screenplay, it gives me hope.

Grah.

I wish my books would come in already so I wouldn't be so focused on hunting down every book that I've read that's been made into a movie and watch it, because it does absolutely nothing for my temper.

I'd Rather Be Playing Beer Pong

There. I've said it.

I guess it's the college student in me, but after working an 8 hour day, where it was dead as a doornail and freaking crawled by like a semi-retarded infant. I just stood there, making my way through the people that went through my lane once every twenty-five minutes or so thinking “Well, when I get back from lunch it'll speed up.”

Oh how wrong I was.

I went for my lunch hour at one, where I ordered a salad from the McDonald's across the street and then drove back over the parking lot and munched, reading I Am Number Four, chain smoking and listening to Bob Dylan. It was nice and peaceful and went by far too fast. By the time I made it back inside, there was a quick burst, which was nice, because the next hour seemed to go by kind of quickly.

And then, like all good things, it ended and died right down again. It seemed like every several minutes, I was asking the other girls cashing if it was time for me to go home yet, I played with the small bouncy balls at the end of my lane, faced candy until I felt like my brain was melting and read trashy tabloids and small articles from Cosmo between customers.

All day long, the same thought went through my head as I dragged countless 30 and six packs across the scanner, listening to the obnoxious beep that signalled that it had been scanned and punched in the birth date of whoever was buying it:

I'd rather be playing beer pong.

Yes. I'd rather be standing at the end of a table, clutching a ping pong ball in one hand and trying to make the perfect bounce shot into a red solo cup at the other end, fighting the urge to lean across the table or do something crazy and unpredictable to distract the people trying to block the shot, fighting like hell to not get skunked and have to run a lap around the house naked. I'd rather be in a small, smokey room surrounded by people that are fun to be around, blaring music at 50 billion decibels and screaming at the top of their lungs when they speak instead of taking the time to turn it down to finish their thought.

If it were spring break, you bet your sweet ass that's exactly what I'd be doing.

But alas, instead, I have to go to bed soon because I've got class at 9 in the morning and a YA Lit journal to finish on A Step From Heaven.

How exciting.

I can't wait for summer break.

Did I give Lincoln the theatre tickets in a past life or something?

I'm closing tonight, so posting early because I'm not going to want to blog when I get home around 11:30 when I have to work at 10:00 in the morning tomorrow.

So, what am I doing in the hour and a half I have to kill before I need to get around and ready for work?

Answer: Freaking the hell out.

Apparently, the internal casing in my car is screwed up, which, in case you didn't know, not exactly a cheap fix. This is very, very bad news when I need my car literally Every. Single. Day. Since I don't feel like biking or walking anywhere from 8-15 miles a day, I sort of need something that goes vroom vroom and... guh.

FML.

The weekend has commenced.

Which means I work the next two days. I'm closing tomorrow, so I'll have relatively all day to lounge around and do nothing (ie: homework.). The only problem with closing tomorrow is that the headlight on my car is busted right now, which gives me great pause. I mean, my high beams are still good, but either way, if I can't get it fixed before I need to leave for work, I'll probably wind up with a ticket. Blah.

More exciting, however, I bought a ton of books from borders.com today, and shall provide you with a list of those books now:

Paper Towns by John Green
An Abundance of Katherines by John Green
Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan
Said the Shotgun to the Head by Saul Williams
The Knife of Never Letting Go: Chaos Walking (Book One) by Patrick Ness
After the Death of Anna Gonzales by Terri Fields
If I Stay by Gayle Forman
A Separate Peace by John Knowles
It's Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini
Give a Boy a Gun by Tod Strasser
City of Bones by Cassandra Clare
City of Ashes by Cassandra Clare
City of Glass by Cassandra Clare
City of Fallen Angels by Cassandra Clare
Some of Tim's Stories (the Oklahoma Stories & Storytellers series) by S.E. Hinton


Guess how much all that cost me?
I know, I know, it must be outrageous, right?

Wrong.

$69.73.

EFF YES. This is what's amazing about four things:

1.) I have a Borders Plus Rewards card... so I get free standard shipping.
2.) They're having a Buy 1 paperback, get the next one 50% off, and with the exception of maybe two books, I bought all paperbacks.
3.) I got nearly all of them used
and 4.) … What was four? OH! Right! I got 33% any one item that I bought. So yes. Only one or two of those books above cost me over $5.

Bahaha, who's the most amazing bargain hunter ever?

Now, I know what you're thinking what with all the John Green's up there: “Kami. How in the sweet, chocolate Christ can you be a Nerdfighter if you've never read a John Green book?!”

Joke's on you! I do have a library card you know, sheesh.

Anyway, that's about all the exciting news that I have. So, within the next few weeks, I will be a reading machine.

Yus.

You can all be envious now.

BEDA Fail.

Ah, I'm sorry to have let you down, BEDA. But I'll post twice today to make up for it, unless you feel like being nice and taking Saturday's double post into account before you judge me for my total incompetence at being a blogger. However, I think my excuse is valid. So, sit down, Dear Reader, and let me fill you in on the absolutely crazy day I had yesterday, and why I never got around to missing sleep just to avoid the wrath of the BEDA Gods.

So, Wednesdays are insanely long days for classes. My first class being at 9:00 in the morning and my last class starting at 6:30 and ending around 9:15 at night. Now, there's a huge gap in between, but because I'm a slacker, that time is usually spent doing the Problem Solving homework for my 6:30 - 9:15 class, which took a lot longer than it probably should have because the work itself is insanely tedious.

ALSO, for the poetry rounds contest, that script I've been complaining about for the last few days? Yeah, the deadline was last night around 1:00 in the morning. So, during my break between classes, I did my math homework, which took around four hours because my professor is ridiculous in what he expects from us, and then I dove right into working on my script. I headed home around 9:15, got home at about 10:00 and, with only three hours to finish up the last three scenes of my script, make edits, watch the episode of Criminal Minds and America's Next Top Model that my mom had recorded for me (while still working on the script. Eff yeah, multitasking!)

The good news is that I did finish the script and get it in on time, so penalty points won't jeopardize my chances of getting into the top 6.

In other news, my Acting class is doing the plays Clue and Your Basic Daytime Game Show, which should be fun. We had a blast when we did Feiffer's People earlier this semester, so hopefully it'll be a good way to end my last semester here.

I don't know what else to write at the moment, but I will be back later.

My deepest apologies, once again, BEDA.

Once again, dear BEDA, I almost forgot about you.

GAH!

I'm so not used to this whole blogging thing. I've definitely gotten to the point where I feel like I've bitten off way more than I can chew, and in all honesty, I think the cause of most of my stress is from the rounds contest I'm in. This script is really driving me crazy. I've written and re-written it with completely different storylines, but with only one day left, I have to really stick with the one I've got going now. While I like how it's going, I'm still not one hundred percent sure about the direction that I want to take it in, and only being able to convey the full story in 5 scenes or less is bothering me. There's so much that I want to do with it but can't and just... guh.

We're covering the Urban Folk Revival in American Music today, and I'm so afraid that I'm coming across as a huge know-it-all, because that is a huge chunk of what I listen to. I mean, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger, etc. I'm absolutely in love with them all. I did manage to make a comparison between Bob Dylan and System of a Down, which my professor absolutely loved. That made me happy.

Today was, if possible, even more boring than yesterday. I really need to start making things exciting if I have any hope of actually going through with this thing all month. I mean, I had some really good laughs today, telling Pikachu (Kyle) about the underwear incident at work on Saturday, and completely geeked out with CVT about The Mountain Goats and Mumford and Sons and so much other music.

Cassandra Clare's City of Fallen Angels came out today, but, of course, being the poor college student that I am, I haven't bought it yet which is bugging the hell out of me. I mean, guh, I still owe another $1,ooo+ to my college before they'll let me graduate or anything, and we just don't have the money for it. While that may not seem like a lot of money to some people, but my family's financial situation is just not good right now. I'm not looking for pity, and I'm deliberately going against what my entire family has told me about not letting myself stress out about the money situation when there's nothing I can do about it, but I'm just so scared. Between my grandfather's cancer, my mom's back issues, all of the transfer application fees that I have to pay and everything else, it's just really hard for me to not totally drive myself up the wall with it.

I almost just want to give up all of my money for the LeakyCon fund and tell my mom to put it toward at least one bill. I mean, it's only like $200, which is hardly anything, but I feel like shit because I don't think I'm helping enough around the house.

God...

I feel so whiney.

I'm deleting this as soon as BEDA is over.

Complaining about school and other things.

Luckily, classes weren't too rough today. I only had two classes, and they were over by 11:00, which gave me some time to hang around and make a Subway run with my friends before the manfriend and I had to leave to pick my brothers up.

I've been feeling a little under the weather today, which is typical. We finally start getting sunshine and it starts to get nice out and then I get sick. Huh. Go figure. To be honest, I almost forgot to blog today. My brain feels like some sort of pancake batter and oatmeal mixture, so my thoughts have been painfully slow. It's a miracle I can string together a coherent sentence, let alone remember to actually get things done.

Not only that, but I still have to finish writing my script for the contest I'm participating in. Which ends Wednesday, I believe.

So what have I done this afternoon and evening, instead of blogging and working on my script?

What a great question.

I've been on youtube watching all three of the Scream movies back to back. Now, I know, the movies themselves are pretty terrible. But I freaking love them. They're campy, the characters are hysterical, and the movies do nothing but make fun of every single other slasher film out there. It's great. I honestly can't wait for the forth one to come out. Not because I expect it to be some huge success or win an Oscar or anything, but because they're good for a cheap laugh. However, I'm the only person in my group of friends who has any interest whatsoever in seeing Scream 4, none of my other friends can stand the series at all, so if I were to see it in theaters, I'd have to go alone.

I doubt I'll see it in theaters though. I mean, I'm a poor college student who works a minimum wage job two days a week and is trying to save up for LeakyCon. I don't see very many trips to the movie theater at $9 a ticket when I don't even earn that much an hour at my job. (Minimum wage in New York is $7.25 an hour for those of you aren't from here or just don't know).

There's been a lot of time to dwell on a few things, the largest of which is that I'm getting to that point where I really miss reading for fun again. Even during break, I was reading my assigned book (and countless others for my final project) for YA Lit and a play for World Lit. While I've managed to snag a few chapters here and there of something I actually wanted to read, it's just not as satisfying knowing that I won't be able to sit down and finish it until I'm done with everything else. It's incredibly frustrating.

I'm still trying to finish up all of my transfer stuff. It seems like every time I think I've finished getting everything around, some other papers that they need crop up that I need to have signed by a million different instructors and, just, gah.

Meh. I'm just going to end this now.

Until tomorrow!

One of the most boring blogs ever.

In all honesty, today has been incredibly boring. I woke up, my usual two pots of coffee before heading off to work where I cashed my ass off during the rat race that is my grocery store's meat sale, came home, ate and have since done absolutely nothing.

Which is the exact opposite of what I should be doing.

Today is the last official day of spring break for me, and I've got none of my homework done. Granted, it really isn't that time consuming, save for the Problem Solving homework I have to finish by Wednesday night, but still. Two journals, a literature circle paper, two chapters of reading and a play that I need to read... I dunno. Something tells me I'll be getting up early to finish things before I have to get around and speed all the way to my school.

Not only that, but I'm in an online poetry contest and should be writing a script for this round. Of course, that's not what I'm doing. No, what I'm doing, dear reader, is eating a Hot Pocket, reading The Mortal Instruments series again... and writing to you.

This last week has been one unlike any other, the only reason being that, aside from work on the weekends and taking my brothers to school, I have had absolutely nothing that I really needed to do. I haven't had a day off since the semester started in January, so having last Thursday-Friday, and then this Monday-Friday with no real responsibilities has been absolutely glorious, although I did feel slightly crazy for a while.

I've never been one of those people that can just sit or stand still. I have to constantly have some sort of stimuli or some task that needs finishing, there is always something in my life that needs to be done right now, and those days without that were incredibly strange and blissful all at the same time. It's been a long time since I was able to take my brothers to school, come back home, crawl into bed and then sleep until 12:30, and let me tell you, that was something I took a lot of advantage of this week.

While I loved every second of free time I've had this week, I really am looking forward to starting up classes again. I miss my fellow nerdfighters at JCC, and, while I certainly don't miss the homework, I really do miss a couple of my classes. Mostly Award Winning Young Adult Literature and American Music, the YA Lit class (one of the two lit classes I'm taking. Huge mistake.), is mostly discussion and we read a lot of cool books, plus my professor is insanely quirky and she's really fun. American Music is just... well, we listen to music. Which is bad ass.

So, all in all, not a whole lot of exciting news to write about today, and I really need to get on top of that homework. So, goodbye for now.

See you tomorrow.

Totally True: Adventures of a Cashier

Guys, I promise you I can't make this up. I know I've already blogged today, but I need to write about this while it's still fresh in my mind.

Today's 3:15-7:30 shift was, undoubtedly, the most interesting and the most disturbing one I've worked since I started at the store in September. Now, I see a lot of interesting characters and have seen a lot of interesting things, not only while at work, but just in my area in general. I lean very heavily toward the idea that my area just breeds whackos, maybe it's the air, maybe it's the fact that I live in the Bible Belt of New York, or maybe it's just that there's nothing to do around here and so we start to develop various eccentricities and completely messed up habits.

I tend to think it's more of the third one than any others, but that's beside the point, because either way you slice it: I am surrounded by insanity everywhere I go. I'm sure just about every 20 year old could say the same thing, but this is no exaggeration or hyperbole of any sort. I mean, okay, show of hands: who else knows a group of people who hog tied one of their buddies (who consented), duct taped his hood over his face and dragged him through a mall and into a Subway on a sled?

Anyone?

Really? No one?

But anyway, back to this evening. So there I am at my register, happily ringing people up and shoving their money into my drawer (hopefully before they can protest the price of something, so the Service Center can deal with it, because there was a line forming, it was cold in there and I was wearing a short sleeved shirt. My need to keep moving and keep the blood flowing was more powerful than my sympathy for the head cashiers at that point.) I was right at the tail end of my shift with only about forty-five minutes left before I was going to be called off of my register when this guy walked into my lane:

He was probably in his 70's and had two other people with him (I'm assuming his son and his son's girlfriend), who were both in their 30's or so. They had a rather large order, so I prepared myself and got to work. Right away, the crazy old bastard started chattering and, half-listening, I gave him the obligatory smile or chuckle when it was prompted and recited the price to him. He handed me the money and then sonny boy and his woman started putting their groceries up on the belt to be cashed out. Then, I heard this:

“You still got those needles in your tits?”

…

“What, my nipple rings?” Asked the son, raising a defensive hand to chest.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you call them.”

“Yeah, I still have them.”

And then, you guys - on my mother's life, this totally happened., he turned to me. “Would you ever do that?”

I choked back my standard “lolwut?” and cleared my throat, voice cracking when I managed the “'scuse me?”

“Would you ever get needles in your tits?”

“... uh, no.” Turning to the son, “Is... is plastic all right?”

I cashed them out, they left and tried to go about the rest of my shift as if nothing had happened. Twenty minutes later, however, something else happened. I was at the register closest to the girl who was at the U-SCAN and the other two girls were cashing people, my lane was empty. So when the cashier at the U-SCAN called me over, I shrugged and walked up to meet her. Her face bright red, shoulders shaking with the laughter she was fighting like hell to keep at bay, she leaned over to me and cupped her hand around my ear.

“There is, what appears to be, a pair of panties on the floor behind register 7...” she paused to let out a small snort. “Can you go pick them up please?”

This time, I just let it rip.

“...lolwut?!”

“Oh for god's sake- look!” she hissed. I turned to face register 7 and gaped in awe. Sure enough, a pair of underwear was on the floor. I'd like to just jump right in and say yet again, I work in a grocery store. Not a clothing store. Not a Victoria's Secret. A grocery store. One that, incidentally, does not sell underwear.

“Jesus Murphy, what- how am I – why are you doing this to me?!”

“Because you're the only one that's not cashing right now and you get to leave sooner!”

“... I am so showering when I get home.”

“Just use a plastic bag or something!”

And so, cringing with every step, hands shaking and shoulders quivering with laughter, I ripped two plastic bags off of a rack as I walked by, approached the underwear with great trepidation and - -

Dear sweet god in heaven.

I hate my life.

Dirty. Leopard Print. Thongs.

Not giving myself a single second to think about what I was doing, I crouched down, wrapped the underwear up in the bag, the echo of U-SCAN girl's laughter ringing through my ears and quickly balled it up in my hands should any of the customers spare me a glance. Right away, U-SCAN girl was on the intercom, calling both managers to the front of the store, voice shaking as she held back the boom of laughter that escaped from her chest merely seconds after she hung up the phone.

They both arrived several seconds later, curious at how hard she and I were laughing, and we explained to them what had happened. One of them let out a bellow of a laugh and the other looked between us as though searching for a hint of deceit, like maybe this was some late April Fool's Day joke we'd decided to team up and play on them.

“What do I do!? Do I just, like, throw them away or... what?”

“Please.” U-SCAN girl said quickly.

And then, the suspicious manager's face when straight. “You should just take it up to the front desk and sign it in under items left behind.”

Okay, I knew he was kidding. But still, “Do you really think someone would call in to ask about a pair of panties they dropped in the Front End of a grocery store?”

“If they were mine, I would.” And he was laughing again.

On work, and the madness that will completely envelope my life starting tomorrow.

I work as a cashier at a grocery store.

In other words, it's my job to ring up a countless series of goods such as food, toiletries, copies of Cosmopolitan and take your money. It is also my job to do it with a smile. Being a fairly happy-go-lucky... sort-of-ish people person, this really isn't a big deal. It's not hard work, I'm good at small talk, and it's only on Saturdays and Sundays so it doesn't completely consume my life. However, we've been handing out fliers for the last few weeks with two words that send a shock of dread through my innards very similar to the one an individual would feel when faced with hungry, raging mama bear that has just emerged from a long hibernation to see that you have been playing tag with her cubs for the better part of the morning.

Those two words, ladies and gentlemen, are “Meat Sale.” And it starts tomorrow.

Now, I feel like I should just come right out and say this now: I love meat. With a strong, Irish, meat-and-potatoes upbringing, how could I not? I mean, it's amazing. It's delicious and nutritious and (in some cases) tastes just like chicken! I am proud of my meat-eating habits and just talking about it makes my mouth water and sends my tummy just a-grumblin' for a huge New York Strip cooked in a fashion similar to the one you would get having just run it through a warm room and slapped it in front of me. I love my carnivorous side and doubt I could ever part with it.

So, then, some of you may be thinking: Kami, if you love meat so much, why does the sale terrify you like this?

That question can be answered very simply: Because it is a bat-shit crazy environment that makes me want to rip my hair out.

It's insanity! It's people in and out from open to close, carts stacked high and overflowing with raw chicken, beef, shrimp, sausage, and pork. It's a tsunami of meat. For four to five hours, I will stand at my register and drag the skinned and raw animal carcasses encased in Styrofoam and cellophane across the belt and stuff it into paper or plastic bags depending on the customer's preference, I will hit the ENTER button on my screen and recite whatever price the computer gives me, take the money, stuff the debit/credit/food stamp receipt into my drawer, run the check through the... check machine thingy and hand over the slip of paper and whatever change they need; the proof of their happy-go-lucky, meat eating persons and they will sidle out of the store, carts swelling under the weight of plastic bags stuffed with meat meat meat meat meat.

The lines fill quickly, and every five minutes, I'm calling for head cashiers to take free registers, Front End boys to come and aid me in bagging the groceries so nobody has to wait longer than a few minutes before it's their turn. Stock boys and the managers of the meat department run around like their heads are on fire, filling and refilling pallets of meat so the stock doesn't run out.

It's a madhouse.

I have only worked one other meat sale before, and have pretty much memorized the busy hours on your normal, everyday weekend during the shifts I'm assigned. I know about when I'll be able to stand at the front of my lane and chit-chat with the other cashiers that are working with me and the cashier manning the U-SCAN just to the left of the lanes we occupy. I know when I'll be able to help them bag to save the front end boys on call the time of running around to the lane in need for a few minutes until someone walks into my own lane with a cart or basket of groceries. It's a comfortable schedule, it's what I'm used to, and I don't handle abrupt changes well.

Since we started handing out the fliers, I have been trying to prepare myself for the explosion of customers that will occur this Sunday, and next Saturday and Sunday when I'm working, but it feels like no amount of preparation is helping and I'll simply have to tug at the waistband of my jeans, brush my bangs out of my face and juggernaut myself into it.

The one good thing about having such an insanely successful sale, is the velocity with which the shift goes by. I no sooner walk in, set up my drawer and claim my spot at the register before someone at the Service Center is calling me up to tell me that it's time to count out my drawer and go home.

Make no mistake, I actually like my job. I like the people that I work with, and get a lot of very interesting characters on a day to day basis, that often make myself and the other members of my family look like normal, perfectly upstanding citizens. Despite the occasional screaming and inconsolable toddler, it really is a fun place to work.

I just have to keep my cool for the next week and try not to let my anxiety about this turn me into a puddle of nerves once I step through the threshold.

Tomorrow, my grocery store life implodes. Wish me luck!

A New Beginning, BEDA.

I got this idea from Hayley G. Hoover, and decided it would be as good of a time to re-start a blog as any, than to completely commit myself to blogging every day for an entire month.

So yes, a few things about myself, just to get started.

Hi! I'm Kami, and I'm probably one of the most love-able losers you'll ever meet. Sometimes I say things that are completely off the wall and make perfect sense in my head, yet on paper, can sometimes be a little confusing. I've been trying to amp myself up to make youtube videos for a while now, but the crappy quality of my current camera and lack of decent editing equipment, paired up with my total awkward "deer-in-headlights"ness when in front of a camera has put a hamper on that so far.

This blog will be a mixture of me just talking about myself and everyday life (which can be both incredibly exciting and headdesk-until-your-brain-falls-out-of-your-nose boring depending on who I'm with and what's going on at the time), sharing opinions on a ton of things, or just normal, everyday rants based on things I see.

I will be 100% honest with you. I am an incredibly boring person who watches too much reality TV, is constantly finding new things to obsess about, breaks into random song and fangirls over the stupidest things. While a lot of people may have come to the conclusion that I'm either borderline retarded or have some other kind of mental disability that causes these weird fascinations and proclivity toward madness and random outbursts of energy, I assure you , I'm about as normal as any other 20 year old, caffeine addicted community college student.

So come on in, get comfortable and bring your own coffee because I don't share.

We'll see where this ride takes us.