Sunday, November 28, 2010

"Road trippin' with my two favorite allies. Fully loaded, we got snacks and supplies."

Click here to see the entire list.

Day 6 - A song that reminds you of somewhere:

A few years ago a friend of mine moved from Michigan to Kansas. Instead of renting a U-Haul she just packed her crap into my van, and the two of us and another friend embarked on the road trip of a lifetime. The entire way there and back we kept hearing the song Jenny Was a Friend of Mine by The Killers, which luckily I loved. I swear, that must be like Kansas' anthem or something. Anyway, whenever I hear it now I always think Kansas and all of the great times we had during that trip.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

"The waiting is the hardest part."

This year for Black Friday, instead of just doing some major shopping/butt-kicking, my sister and I camped out on the cold concrete floor of Walmart. Seven hours for a $198 dollar laptop. Seven. Oh do I hope it was worth it. (We can't have them until Christmas, naturally.) During my stay I learned a few things, so I thought I'd share. Enjoy!

1) I could NEVER survive in jail. Seven hours with nothing to do was torturous enough, particularly on my butt and hips. Several years with nothing to do would surely make my brain explode.

2) When spending large amounts of time with little to do, make sure you bring several things to keep you sufficiently occupied. Seven hours of your mp3 player on shuffle will. not. cut it.
3) People will fart ANYWHERE. Once is excusable, accidents happen. Eight to ten times is just ridiculous. Have a little compassion on the poor souls who are stuck within inches of you.
4) Don't have dreams, they will inevitably be crushed. My sister and I decided that we should design our own line of Black Friday t-shirts with funny sayings on them. Later we saw some women with shirts that read "Team Black Friday. Shop till you drop (or get trampled)." Funny, but heartbreaking. They had stolen our idea.
5) Little sisters aren't nearly as obnoxious when you are both facing the same hardships.
6) Gummy bears come in 3 pound bags. If necessary, that bag can be used as a pillow.

I doctored this photo, but a 3 lb bag of gummy bears was truly used as a pillow during the night.
7) A Slim Jim, some Gardetto's, a 5 Hour Energy Shot to drink, and Tums for desert is not an acceptable meal.
8) People are crazy. I mean, this is something that I've known for quite a while, but I don't think that I understood the severity of the craziness until last night.
9) Sixteen year old girls giggle. A lot. Very loudly, sometimes. It's embarrassing.
10) And lastly, my mom is awesome. She drove 25 minutes is the sleet and hurricane-like winds to drop my sister and me off at Walmart. She then proceeded to do some crazy person shopping, drive back home, do two loads of laundry, put dishes away, drive back to Walmart, do some more crazy person shopping, take my sisters and me out to breakfast, come home, go to bed for a bit, and then get up and go to work for 8.5 hours.

My mom's got it goin' on!

Click here to see the entire list.

Day 5 - A song that reminds you of someone:

My grandma passed away in February of 2009, while spending her last few days at an amazing hospice facility. They provided a basket of CDs for my grandma to listen to, but it ended up being where my family sought solace during the extremely hard time. Throughout her last 48 hours, we listened to an Alan Jackson CD that consisted of nothing but hymns. No one in my family is particularly fond of Country music, but it was basically the only bearable Christian selection in the "Basket O' CDs". The song that happened to be playing while she passed was I'll Fly Away. For several days after her death I heard that exact version of the song EVERYWHERE, and it will forever remind me of her.

This isn't the exact version (the other was much slower) but it's the closest I could find.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

"Turkey for me, turkey for you, let's eat the turkey in my big brown shoe."

                                                   HAVE A HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

See, I like dogs too.

Eat lots of turkey, take a nice long nap, and if you're feeling particularly adventurous mix your corn with your mashed potatoes. You'll never look back.

Click here to see the entire list.

Day 4 - A song that makes you sad:

I'm currently obsessed with the song Airplanes by Local Natives. It's about the writer's grandfather who died before the writer was born. My paternal grandfather died of a heart attack when my dad was just 4 years old, and listening to this song really makes me realize how much I'm missing out on by having never met him. As the song says, though, "I bet when I leave my body for the sky, the wait will be worth it."

Monday, November 22, 2010

"What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie."

My entire family and I are obsessed with The Walking Dead. We make absolute sure that we watch it every Sunday night. I'm actually quite surprised because my dad and one of my sisters, J, are giant scaredy cats.

J usually watches the Disney Channel until she falls asleep after watching something scary, but tonight she felt the need to sleep on the couch. I, being the serial pranker that I am, could not pass up this golden opportunity.

My family is also obsessed with Halloween, so we have countless masks stored in totes in our basement. I decided to grab the best zombie-like mask that we had to scare the crap out of her, and I knew just the one that would do the trick.

She was facing the back of the couch, so after putting the mask on, I got my face as close to hers as possible. It took a minute, but after smacking the couch cushion a few times she finally woke up. It took her a second to realize what was going on, but I could tell the exact moment it registered. Her eyes grew ten times their normal size and she screamed like a woman being mugged in a dark alley who had forgotten her rape whistle at home. What happened next, though, was something that I never could have anticipated in 1000 years. She socked me in the face! My sister, the biggest wuss on the planet, punched me square in the upper lip. It didn't really do much damage, but I almost wish that it did. Can you imagine?

"Hey, why the fat lip?"
"I scared the bejeezus out of J and she punched me."

It'd make one of the greatest stories. I always say if an experience can leave you with a great story then it was not in vain.

Click here to see the entire list.

Day 3 - A song that makes you happy:

A lot of songs make me happy, but one that always puts a smile on my face is Young Folks by Peter, Bjorn and John. The whistling is just so darn infectious.

Friday, November 19, 2010

"I wished on the lidded blue flames under your brow, and baby I wished for you."

Click here to see the entire list.

Day 2 - Your least favorite song:

I don't know what it is, but it kills me to have to hear or sing Happy Birthday. I'm always that one person standing in the background, moving my lips hoping that no one will realize that I'm not actually singing. When it's my birthday I have to threaten everyone so they don't sing it. The stupid song gives anxiety or something. My whole body tenses up and I want to hide under a rock. There's probably some horrible experience associated with my hatred, but I'll keep it in the depths of my mind if I can get away with things the way I have for the past 25 years.

"Oh, you're going to sing Happy Birthday? But I have to go to the bathroom REAL bad!"
" youuuuu."
"Aw, bummer! Sorry I missed it."

Ok, this makes it a bit more bearable.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

"We gotta get out of this place, if it's the last thing we ever do."

"And then the day came, when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to Blossom." ~Anais Nin

I made a point to tuck this away in the corners of my mind when I first read it, knowing that some day it would be relevant. Today is that day.

I have no desire to do anything with my professional life other than sing. I come from a very small town and making that a reality, while stuck here, is virtually impossible. I need to branch out, save some money, move out of this town, make a name for myself... I feel like the ability to sing, on its own, isn't enough so I've decided to teach myself to play the piano. I played clarinet when I was younger, and was in choir for years, so I feel like I have a strong enough foundation (I hope) to be able to do so. I did some searching on Amazon and found a nice, cheap keyboard that should be perfect for a beginner. It's nothing fancy, but I'm not going to spend a couple grand (that I don't even have) on something that I might not even be good at. Learning to play is something that I've always wanted to do, anyway, so I'm pretty pumped about the whole thing.

I put in an application this morning at one of the banks in town so I'll be doing some major praying that I get the spot, if it's His will. I make next to nothing at my current job, so if I ever want to save up some cash and get the heck out of this town, having a different job is almost necessary. It's funny when you start to see things fall into place after finally listening to the things that God's been screaming at you for a while, things that you have been too stubborn and untrusting to listen to.

I guess I didn't really have anything witty to say tonight. (Oh my gosh, I hope you think that I'm at least sometimes witty, and that I didn't just make a complete idiot out of myself.) I just thought I'd share some of what's been going on with me for the past few days.

I've decided to do a 30 Day Blog Challenge. Not one of those boring, grown-up ones, but a fun music one. It's a pretty daunting task, but I think I'm up for the challenge.


Day 01 – Your favorite song:
Day 02 – Your least favorite song
Day 03 – A song that makes you happy
Day 04 – A song that makes you sad
Day 05 – A song that reminds you of someone:
Day 06 – A song that reminds of you of somewhere:
Day 07 – A song that reminds you of a certain event:
Day 08 – A song that you know all the words to:
Day 09 – A song that you can fall asleep to:
Day 10 – A song that makes you fall asleep:
Day 11 – A song from your favorite band:
Day 12 – A song from a band you hate:
Day 13 – A song that is a guilty pleasure:
Day 14 – A song that no one would expect you to love
Day 15 – A song that describes you:
Day 16 – A song that you used to love but now hate:
Day 17 – A song that you hear often on the radio:
Day 18 – A song that you wish you heard on the radio:
Day 19 – A song from your favorite album:
Day 20 – A song that you listen to when you’re angry:
Day 21 – A song that you listen to when you’re happy:
Day 22 – A song that you listen to when you’re sad:
Day 23 – A song that you want to play at your wedding:
Day 24 – A song that you want to play at your funeral:
Day 25 – A song that makes you laugh:
Day 26 – A song that you can play on an instrument:
Day 27 – A song that you wish you could play:
Day 28 – A song that makes you feel guilty:
Day 29 – A song from your childhood:
Day 30 – Your favorite song at this time last year:

There's no better time than the present, so here goes nothing.

Day 1 - Your favorite song:

Ha! As if I could choose only one! I do have a few songs, though, that have stood the test of time, songs that give that brief moment of ecstasy when they first come on. They're not always my current favorite, but I never get sick of hearing them. So, in no particular order, three of my all-time favorite songs:

Ok, I couldn't help myself. One more for the road:

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

"S-T-A-R-I-N-G, I can't stop staring."

When you live in a small town and work with the public, you get to know certain customers very well. I couldn't even begin to count how many people come through where I work on a daily basis. You'd think that they would buy themselves a carton of cigs and save ten bucks and a lot of wasted time, but whatever.

Some customers you build a great rapport with.

"Oh hey Pat! I see you're stoned again. Here's two treats for your dog since he probably has the munchies, too!"
And other customers have the special ability to make you cringe from a mile away. One particular customer skeeves me out more than any other, and I do everything humanly possible to get her moving on as quickly as possible. It all started a few weeks ago when I noticed her staring at my boobs. That, in and of itself, wasn't particularly alarming. I have large boobs. Where it started to get creepy, though, is when she started looking rapid fire between the Marges (large and in charge) and my eyes. Did she think that if she looked at my eyes every couple of seconds I wouldn't notice she was copping a glance the rest of the time?

I really hate that word, but I couldn't resist. This is awesome.
After she left, I told my coworker what had happened and we laughed for a while over it. I partially excused it, because, like I said, I have large boobs. Maybe they just caught her off guard, and she couldn't help herself. The next time she came through I made a conscious effort to try to catch her doing it again, and let me tell you, Helen Keller (too soon?) would have caught her. She was doing the same rapid fire thing again, and there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to be like "Take your freaking Basics and get the eff out of here!" but that would be bad for business, I'd probably get fired, and then I'd have absolutely no hope of ever buying another vehicle, or moving out of my parents' basement, for that matter. But I digress. Instead, I put on my best forced smile

and told her to have a great day.

Whenever she comes through, now, I do this weird "lock my arms in front of my boobs so she can't look" thing, but it doesn't matter. So, if you drive a very large teal and white van, smoke Basics, and notice me running away when you approach the drive-thru window, QUIT STARING AT MY BOOBS! You are a Creepy McCreeperson. I think I'll just make my coworkers wait on her from now on.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

"A home for fleas, a hive for bees, a nest for birds, there ain't no words."

Rogue hairs utterly disgust me.

Ulaaagggggghhhhhhh (That's the sound of me gagging.)

I'd almost bet my life that my trichophobia began during high school, the time I decided that eating Wendy's sounded like a good plan. Big mistake. While driving down the road I bit into my burger, along with what felt like a lock of someone's hair that had literally been cut from their head. The clump was disgustingly huge.

(I had to make uploading this picture the last thing I did to this post. In the three seconds that I had to look at it, I for reals almost vomited.)

I had to pull over to the side of the road so I could puke. It was traumatic, to say the least. Ever since then I find hairs in EVERYTHING. If one of my mom's happens to fall into our dinner, I. will. find it. It's inevitable. Egg shells too. I think someone put some sort of hex on me. It's the only logical explanation. I was eating some pasta my mom made once, and came across a hair or two that seemed to ball up and get stuck to the back of my tongue. I had just taken a huge swig of milk right before, and without warning, I projectile vomited it back up. The only way for me to explain it is like when a baby pukes. There was no gagging involved, only a substantial amount of milk firing from between my lips.

My immediate family members know about my (possibly irrational) fear, and do nothing to make my life easier. My little sister loves to pick hairs off of her clothing and either dangle them in front of my face, or actually drop them on me. She gets some sort of sick pleasure out of hearing me gag. It's disturbing. While on vacation a few years ago, we were swimming in the pool at the campground where we were staying. My other sister noticed someone's hair floating on the top of the water and proceeded to shove it towards me. I don't care how clean that hair was, if the chemicals in the pool had burned any diseases off of it, I don't care if it was the flipping Queen of England's hair, it was gross and I was grossed out. I figured my mother, the one who most likely loves me most in this world, would have my back, but no. She just stood there laughing her butt off. It just goes to show you that you can't trust anyone.

I'd consider going to some sort of exposure therapy, but I just have this image of them covering my body in other people's hair, and the thought of that makes me want to die. I suppose this is just something that I'm going to have to get used to. Hair is everywhere. And who knows, maybe if I get skeeved out enough, often enough, I can puke off some poundage. Haven't you heard? The Ethiopian Diet is all the rage right now.

Friday, November 12, 2010

"I wanna have your babies, I see 'em springin' up like daisies."

     +          =



Thursday, November 11, 2010

"You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life."

I have a problem. A very large, embarrassing problem. I'm hoping that by publicly confessing my issue, it will help to curb my impulses.

#1 I like to dance. A lot.
#2 I'm an awful dancer. I have great rhythm, I just can't seem to get it to transfer from my brain to my feet.
#3 I'm relatively shy. (Translated, I suffer from major anxiety, particularly when it comes to being publicly humiliated.)
#4 We have several large windows in our house that are facing the street. When lit up at night, you can see EVERYTHING that's happening in front of/around them.
#5 I am always listening to music, whether it be on the radio, my mp3 player, or simply the music in my head.

All of these things on their own don't pose much of a problem, but when combined, they create a monstrous predicament. Given my stupid anxiety, I have a lot of pent up dancexual energy. My only outlet for cutting a rug is my house, so when the groove hits, I have to dance. There's no thought behind it, I just move. Every. single. time. this occurs, I happen to be in front of one of the big lit up windows. And 90% of the time that happens, a car seems to be driving by at the exact moment. And 50% of the time a car drives by, it's one of our local police. Our town (village, actually) has a total of four or five active police officers, with only two of them ever working the night shift. That means that every time I bust a move and a cop catches me, there's a 50% chance that it's the same guy. I don't like my odds.

I just found this quote while trying to find a picture of odds. It kept showing up, so I'm taking it as a sign from God that I'm meant to be a dancer. Move over Heavy Vee,

there's a new awesomely bad dancer in town!

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

"No, not baby anymore. If I need you I'll just use your simple name."

The sister and the douchebag broke up! (Cue the Hallelujah Chorus.)

The thing about this idiot is that we really did like him. He was a bit of a brown noser, but all in all, we liked him. What we didn't like is how he treated her, and treat her well he did not. I won't get into specifics, but let's just say that he was a boozer, a user (...of her, not drugs.) and a loser.

He broke up with her Saturday night (for the third time) and she made a "public announcement" last night. Hopefully it will be for good this time, since she hasn't been distraught like she was in the past. In fact, DB came over tonight to give the sister her spare key back. When she got back into the house mom asked if she was ok and she just kind of shrugged. Then she followed it up with "Well, whatever. His loss. I'm gonna go put on my footie pajamas."

Best breakup response EVER.

Monday, November 8, 2010


I really have always wondered what English sounds like to other countries. Now I will wonder no more.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

"I am a poster girl with no poster."

I recently rediscovered this song and fell head over heels in love. I can't. quit. listening. As much as I adore Ani Difranco, I have to give it up to Alana Davis. This cover kills the original.

32 Flavors, you are my new theme song. I feel like Ani Difranco went into the future, got inside my 25 year old head, went back to 1995 and wrote this incredible song. Then, two years later, Alana Davis came along and showed Ani what was up. Thirteen years later and  I am a happy, happy girl. Thanks, ladies. (I may have to start attending Over-Listener's Anonymous, though.)

"Will you ever use common sense? It comes pretty cheap."

A lot of things have been getting under my skin lately. Some might blame it on PMS,

but I like to blame it on the idiocy of others.

One of the main sources of my stress and irritation comes from my place of employment. Not the job itself, (it's fairly stress-free) but with the ignorance of the customers that I am frequently subjected to. When you work closely with the public you realize just how many people are actually lacking in the common sense department. I work at a drive-thru convenience store, where we also make pizzas. There is a display window in the drive-thru where we keep the pizza that we sell by the slice, and where we also keep our orders. Keep in mind that this window, and all of its contents, are clearly visible. On an average day, this is how a transaction might go down...

Me: "Hi."
Customer: "..."
Me: "What can I do for you?"
Customer: "... ...I had a pizza order."
Me: "What was the name on it?"
My Internal Monologue: "There are four pizza boxes in the window! Who do I look like, Miss Cleo?! I CAN'T READ YOUR MIND!"

The following is an actual conversation that I had with an elderly gentleman customer...

Customer: "Give me a case of Busch Light."
Me: "Okay, It's going to be $21.20."
Customer: "How much?"
Me: "$21.20."
Customer: "How much?"
Me, louder: "$21.20."
Customer: "You don't have to raise your voice!"
My Inner Monologue: "Um, clearly I do when I have to tell you THREE FREAKING TIMES what the total is!"

And one more actual conversation, had between a coworker and one "extra special" customer...

Customer, while staring at our display case that houses every type of Arizona we sell: "I'll have an Arizona."
Coworker: "Which kind?"
Customer: "Arizona."
Coworker: "Which kind? We have like 20 different flavors."
Customer: "ARIZONA!"

So as you can see, a lot of the customers that we deal with aren't playing with a full deck. Isolated incidents can be funny, but when it happens every day, several times a day, any hilarity that may have ensued is lost. Maybe this is a lesson from the Lord in appreciating the things that He's blessed me with. I just wish that I could learn it in a way that wasn't so exasperating. *sigh*

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

"With my feet on the dash, the world doesn't matter."

I sold my van (No, I'm not a soccer mom.) today. Peace out, Sandy.

Since my job sucks and I don't get any hours, which equals no money, I haven't been able to drive my van since spring. The lack of money meant not being able to pay for insurance and tags. It's sucked. I LOVE to drive. Luckily, my cousin and her husband were gracious enough to let me store the ol' gal out at his shop. A few weeks ago, "D" went to move the van  to mow where it had been sitting, and found that it wouldn't start. The battery was dead, but when he hooked the van up to the computer about 5 million things that were wrong with the engine also showed up. Basically, I was screwed. On top of trying to save money to get tags and to be able to pay for insurance, I was now going to have to save up to fix the umpteen things that were wrong. And truthfully, it wasn't even worth it.

I've been putting off going out to clean all of my crap out of it (I used my van as a closet, garbage can, CD/DVD rack, etc... It kind of looked like this.) until today when the cousin let me know that their truck officially took a crap and she wanted to buy Sandy. I had been planning on taking it to the junk yard, but it's now going to good use, plus they gave me $100 more than the junk yard would have. A win/win situation, really. Except for the fact that I am that much further away from ever owning a vehicle again.
After replacing the battery and getting the beast up and running again tonight, "D" brought it over so I could clean all of my junk, and not-junk, out of it. As I approached the giant heap of metal I actually started to get a little verklempt.

I've had so many memorable moments in that thing (late night fast food trips, aimlessly driving for hours, driving over 45 miles just to spend a few hours with my best friend, beach trips, helping move a friend to Kansas...) and the thought of not being able to make more is a bit sad for me. Then I had a moment of clarity and realized that making more memories such as the aforementioned would mean having friends like the ones I had when those were made. And that, my dears, is something that I never want to endure again for the rest of my life.

I was attempting to share my life with people who hold very different morals (or lack thereof) as I do, and that just can't ever work out. Long story short, I had a blow up with the queen bee of our group, and everyone else kind of followed her lead. I was ostracized, but it was for the best. I quit doing the things I knew I shouldn't have been doing, and consequently strengthened my relationship with the Lord. I know that I am not perfect, nor will I ever be, but I can be released from the pressure of trying to live a double life that I knew I shouldn't have been living. It felt like a 1,000 pound weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Of course, there has been quite a few downfalls to losing most of your friends. I don't do much of anything, other than watch TV, listen to music, surf the web, and go to work. It's quite depressing, and it's definitely time to change that.

In getting rid of the van tonight, I feel like I was putting the final piece of the letting-go puzzle into place. All of the memories that I associate with that heap are leaving along with it. I'm starting a  new chapter in my new life. A new-new beginning.

So now I can quit being Emo Stacey,

and start being more of a "Woo hoo, I appreciate life!" kind of Stacey.

It's only for the good of mankind.