Sigh.
It's been awhile.
It really has.
I decided a long time ago that I wasn't gonna be one of those bloggers who constantly wrote about being too busy to blog.
But here we are.
I feel a bit conflicted. I have over-committed myself this year and I've wanted to write about how I feel like I'm juggling 3 bowls, 2 apples, a sword, a steak knife, and a can of mace but I haven't had the time and I don't want to sound like I'm whining. However, this is my blog, a place for me to write about what's happening with me so I should just do it, right?
Right.
But then I think about the women I know that work, have kids, go to the gym, and they still manage to post every day. It boggles my mind how they do everything. The things I've got going on are all things I've chosen for myself.
So what's my problem? I decided to do all of these things right? I chose to spread myself too thin.
SO I'm definitely NOT complaining, but, I am so freaking busy and I hate it and love it at the same time. If I can make it through to the end of this month I'll be golden. Seriously.
Last year I started college in pursuit of my paralegal degree. I took two classes last semester and made As in both. Since I did so well that semester I decided this semester I could totally handle three classes along with my full-time job.
Yeah. Three classes is WAY harder to juggle than two. On Mondays and Wednesday nights I go to two classes and I get home around nine. My third class is an internet class, so I have to find time to do it during the week and weekend.
Tuesday night I've been in a bowling league with a group of friends. The bowling league ended last week, so I finally have Tuesday nights free.
On Thursday nights I have my tennis lesson.
So, yeah, this has been my reality for the past few months. I'm taking an English course so I'm writing essays, reading stories and a book for class, and in my Criminal law course I'm studying for exams, trying to memorize crazy ass Georgia laws, and legal jargon.
It's a lot of shit.
And my online course tends to slide to the wayside, so I end up scrambling every week to keep caught up on it.
Top all this off with my work life which has been extremely hectic the past few weeks.
I work for a small company and one of the guys in my department just had his first baby so he has been out for the past two weeks.
And did I mention I'm getting promoted?
Yep, I'm going to be in charge of the department.
It's great news, I'm really happy, and I've wanted it for a long time. But...it feels like one more weight added to my buckling shoulders.
My school semester ends May 2. Please pray that I make it through.
With a 4.0 GPA.
Showing posts with label High School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label High School. Show all posts
Monday, April 4, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
So I Blocked Her Ass
Here's the thing. I have a past.
Some could say a checkered past.
Relax, I'm not a god damn fugitive. At least not yet.
Let's just say I did some shit when I was a teenager that I am not proud of. I could go into the reasons why and all that, but I don't have the time and you don't have the interest.
Trust me.
Okay, so I had some issues as a teenager and did some rebellious shit. I did stuff like hitchhiking to Florida for a week. Totally normal, right? When I turned eighteen I got in my car, drove away from my bullshit small town, and left everything behind. I started a new life and became a different person. It probably wasn't as dramatic or poetic as I made it seem, but it was to me at the time.
I don't remember people from high school. I'm not nostalgic about high school. I hated myself as a teenager. My teenage years were filled with self-loathing, loneliness, and bull shit. And those people in high school were assholes. I am much happier now and I do not spend time waxing nostalgic about the good ol' days. These are the good ol' days to me. Right Now. This Second is Fucking Awesome.
You dig?
Now we have Facebook. And I love Facebook. Don't think I'm over here dogging out the Facebook. It's not like I'm "The Social Network", y'all. Speaking of that movie...a lil' heavy handed, no?
Facebook.
Or, as I call it, "Omigod I know I was a total asshole to you in high school but guess what you're fat now and I'm still totally high school skinny and I have three perfect kids and stay at home while my husband has an awesome job and OMG how did you get so fat you don't have a baby and why haven't you had any kids yet? OMG you ARE a loser! Just like I knew you would be! And now I can bring up a bunch of embarrassing shit you did when you were in high school so everyone will know what a loser you were and still are! And OMG my life is so fucking awesome just like I knew it would be! Holy shit let's be friends now because you shared four miserable years of me being an asshole to you. And now we have the rest of our lives for me to be an asshole to you! OMG! Isn't this fucking amazing?!? Omigod!"
Or something.
I created my Facebook page and did not put my high school on there. But these people from high school find you. They do. They are like the god damn CIA these people. I accept them, because, well, I wanna see their pics, of course. And it would be rude not to accept them. And I (unlike them) am most definitely not an asshole.
My activity on Facebook is fairly benign. Unlike most I do not spend it updating everyone on my health woes and I don't use it as a forum to congratulate myself on my many many accomplishments. I mainly post generic musings or excitement over upcoming events. My parents are on Facebook, my in-laws are on Facebook, my co-workers are on Facebook, so I don't have any need to air my dirty laundry on The Facebook.
That's why I have this blog.
When Rachel, a girl from high school, friend requested me I accepted her. Again, I'm not an asshole. Rachel and I weren't great friends by any means. She was friends with my best friend Andy and the only memory I have of Rachel is that she dated a boy named Jeff and they would meet at Andy's house and have sex in his mom's guest bedroom. And when they got done Andy would always make them wash the sheets because they were soaking wet because Rachel would squirt on the bed.
Yeah. She was a squirter.
A few weeks ago Rachel, the squirter, randomly posts on my Facebook wall:
"Remember that time we went to the mall and met those weird guys and they took us to Gadzooks and we modeled bathing suits for them? We looked fucking sexy then didn't we? I forget sometimes how hot we were. LOL."
On my public Facebook wall she posts this shit. I have zero recollection of this event happening and even if it did happen it's not the sort of thing I want my mother-in-law reading about.
WTF.
So, I deleted the comment. Of course I deleted the fucking comment.
Friday I posted this status on my Facebook page (get ready, it's some earth shattering shit I post on The Facebook):
"Okay FB peeps, I need some help here. When I was growing up in the summer sometimes we would string up a badminton net in our front yard (classy, I know). BUT we didn't call it badminton. We called it something else. Is there a southern slang word for badminton? What is it?"
I received about ten comments on this post (none of them being the right answer, by the way) and The Squirter chimes in:
"All I know is when we played in those weird dudes' backyard that lived in your neighborhood we called it badminton, but it was really called flirting. LOL"
Again, no recollection. I'm positive this never happened.
WTF is her problem?
So, I did what any reasonable person would do. I deleted her ass from my friends list and blocked her. Ha ha Squirter! Who's laughing now??
Last night I told my husband this story and I asked him if he thought I over-reacted. His reply?
"You always over-react."
So I ask you, internet peeps, was my response reasonable and justified? What would you have done?
Some could say a checkered past.
Relax, I'm not a god damn fugitive. At least not yet.
Let's just say I did some shit when I was a teenager that I am not proud of. I could go into the reasons why and all that, but I don't have the time and you don't have the interest.
Trust me.
Okay, so I had some issues as a teenager and did some rebellious shit. I did stuff like hitchhiking to Florida for a week. Totally normal, right? When I turned eighteen I got in my car, drove away from my bullshit small town, and left everything behind. I started a new life and became a different person. It probably wasn't as dramatic or poetic as I made it seem, but it was to me at the time.
I don't remember people from high school. I'm not nostalgic about high school. I hated myself as a teenager. My teenage years were filled with self-loathing, loneliness, and bull shit. And those people in high school were assholes. I am much happier now and I do not spend time waxing nostalgic about the good ol' days. These are the good ol' days to me. Right Now. This Second is Fucking Awesome.
You dig?
Now we have Facebook. And I love Facebook. Don't think I'm over here dogging out the Facebook. It's not like I'm "The Social Network", y'all. Speaking of that movie...a lil' heavy handed, no?
Facebook.
Or, as I call it, "Omigod I know I was a total asshole to you in high school but guess what you're fat now and I'm still totally high school skinny and I have three perfect kids and stay at home while my husband has an awesome job and OMG how did you get so fat you don't have a baby and why haven't you had any kids yet? OMG you ARE a loser! Just like I knew you would be! And now I can bring up a bunch of embarrassing shit you did when you were in high school so everyone will know what a loser you were and still are! And OMG my life is so fucking awesome just like I knew it would be! Holy shit let's be friends now because you shared four miserable years of me being an asshole to you. And now we have the rest of our lives for me to be an asshole to you! OMG! Isn't this fucking amazing?!? Omigod!"
Or something.
I created my Facebook page and did not put my high school on there. But these people from high school find you. They do. They are like the god damn CIA these people. I accept them, because, well, I wanna see their pics, of course. And it would be rude not to accept them. And I (unlike them) am most definitely not an asshole.
My activity on Facebook is fairly benign. Unlike most I do not spend it updating everyone on my health woes and I don't use it as a forum to congratulate myself on my many many accomplishments. I mainly post generic musings or excitement over upcoming events. My parents are on Facebook, my in-laws are on Facebook, my co-workers are on Facebook, so I don't have any need to air my dirty laundry on The Facebook.
That's why I have this blog.
When Rachel, a girl from high school, friend requested me I accepted her. Again, I'm not an asshole. Rachel and I weren't great friends by any means. She was friends with my best friend Andy and the only memory I have of Rachel is that she dated a boy named Jeff and they would meet at Andy's house and have sex in his mom's guest bedroom. And when they got done Andy would always make them wash the sheets because they were soaking wet because Rachel would squirt on the bed.
Yeah. She was a squirter.
A few weeks ago Rachel, the squirter, randomly posts on my Facebook wall:
"Remember that time we went to the mall and met those weird guys and they took us to Gadzooks and we modeled bathing suits for them? We looked fucking sexy then didn't we? I forget sometimes how hot we were. LOL."
On my public Facebook wall she posts this shit. I have zero recollection of this event happening and even if it did happen it's not the sort of thing I want my mother-in-law reading about.
WTF.
So, I deleted the comment. Of course I deleted the fucking comment.
Friday I posted this status on my Facebook page (get ready, it's some earth shattering shit I post on The Facebook):
"Okay FB peeps, I need some help here. When I was growing up in the summer sometimes we would string up a badminton net in our front yard (classy, I know). BUT we didn't call it badminton. We called it something else. Is there a southern slang word for badminton? What is it?"
I received about ten comments on this post (none of them being the right answer, by the way) and The Squirter chimes in:
"All I know is when we played in those weird dudes' backyard that lived in your neighborhood we called it badminton, but it was really called flirting. LOL"
Again, no recollection. I'm positive this never happened.
WTF is her problem?
So, I did what any reasonable person would do. I deleted her ass from my friends list and blocked her. Ha ha Squirter! Who's laughing now??
Last night I told my husband this story and I asked him if he thought I over-reacted. His reply?
"You always over-react."
So I ask you, internet peeps, was my response reasonable and justified? What would you have done?
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