2+2=5

Wow, I haven't written in awhile. Whatever...it's not like anyone reads this, lol.

Here's the scoop, I got a new job a l'hopital, or the hospital for my friends in New York that suck at all languages, even English, you know who you are. "Whatevuh." Anyway, my new job is going pretty well, I am a Dietary Aide, which is about one step up on the shitty hospital jobs list...right above housekeeper a.k.a.-Janitor.

This evening, I was being trained to work the cash register in the cafeteria, which I didn't mind at all because I was tired of doing the same damn thing for the past 3 weeks. Not to mention, I love being around money. Typical chick behavior, don't deny it ladies. My night was going pretty smoothly when this cute old man walked up and asked when the cafeteria closed. I told him that we shut down around 6:30, and he said he would be back at 6:29. He smiled...I smiled...and the little guy scooted off. So 6:15 rolls around and I notice that he's already back in line, waiting to get a plate full of chicken drummies and mixed veggies. Finally he makes his way over to the cash register with his white milk already opened and a straw inserted, so cute! I smiled again, and I rang up the total. I tell him that it comes up to 5.49, so I see him pull out a five dollar bill and start to fiddle with some change. Well he dumps some coins in my hand and he goes..."That should give me a nickel back." I start to punch in the amount he gave me into the cash register, because I have to in order to get the draw to open, and he starts to tell me a story. It went something like this, "When I was your age, we didn't need machines to tell us how to make change....blah blah blah, generation gap....I'm old and angry, etc." He keeps rambling on and on about how I'm not smart enough to make change, and how he was a teacher and all of his students were so bright, and he was such a blessing to the learning force of America in 1950. Frankly, it started to get on my nerves...that's when I looked down at the cash register and I got a little smirk on my face. Finally, this old bag of bones was done talking, and he sticks his hand out in front of me, demanding me for his nickel. To which I replied as professionally as I could, "I'm sorry sir, but you shorted me 20 cents."

Hunted Down

I just got back from vacation. Oh yeah it was great! Thanks for asking...dicks

Anyway, when I go on a trip, I take a break from everything outside of the details of the trip I am on. I don't answer phone calls, I won't return texts...you get the point. I just feel that meaning of a vacation is to get away and forget all of the hustle and bustle of everyday life. That's exactly what I intended to do and I accomplished that.

With that aside, let me give you a little insight for the following story. I used to date this guy named Jake. He's a good friend and a pretty nice boyfriend type, but I just wasn't that into him. He started dropping the L bomb and calling 50 times a day and I can't handle that kind of pressure. So we had stopped seeing each other about a month or so ago.

While I was on vacation, Jake called me about 3 times a day, and like I said above...I don't answer calls on vacation. I guess this made him a little angry....
Sunday, I'm sitting on my couch just wasting time, I had just returned home from Virginia and enjoying some "me" time, when all of a sudden Jake's car pulls into the driveway. Shit! (This is where my genius mind starts kicking in...not) I didn't want to see or talk to him, so I thought to myself, I'll just hide in the bathroom until he goes away. Brilliant idea, emmiright? Most of the time when people want to enter a home, they knock. But OH NO, not Jake, Jake just walks right inside my house. I am just slipping into the bathroom and I hear him start tearing through my house. I mean opening every door, checking ever room...searching for Lil ole me. What the fuck is this kid thinking!? Where is my cell phone? Oh yeah...that's right I left it on the floor while I was avoiding Jake's calls. My bad! Anyway, after he checks all the rooms...minus the bathroom where I am...I hear what sounds like my back door open and then close. I let out a sigh thinking that the mayhem was over, until I heard a familiar cell phone noise I knew hadn't come from my own. That sneaky bastard pretended like he left to see if I was hiding! What a psycho!
Now I could have come out of the bathroom, and pretended like I just didn't hear him come in and I was doing some business...I could have, but I didn't. Instead I thought, hmmm...I'll just jump into the shower in case he opens the door, that way...it looks like nobody was ever in here. Brilliant, yet again!!!...I am such an idiot.
Back to the hunt! Jake is at it again, this time he is checking every inch of every room. He's entering everything...the closets, the laundry room, and then the bathroom. So of course, I'm a little nervous, I mean its not everyday your ex boyfriend breaks into your house and searches for you. But some inch of me still believes I'm safe, I mean I am inside of my bathroom, in the shower, with the lights off. Like he's gonna find me....shiiiiiiiit. Jake flips on the lights and opens the curtain and the conversation goes something like this...

Jake- "THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS!!!"

Me- "What is?" right Jess, because normal people sit in their showers with the lights off...

Jake- "Only guilty people hide in the shower!" *rages*

Me- "What the hell do I have to be guilty for? Only fucking crazy people hunt other people down in their own houses!"

Now, I'm much more of a lover than a fighter, and my mind was complete sludge due to the fact that my brilliant hiding place had failed to reach the mark. I had no idea what to say...I mean he did have a right to be mad, but not THIS mad. Here's my next brilliant move...

Jake- "You want to know why you get dicked over? Because you dick everyone else over!"

Me- "What!? Who dicks me over?"

Genius statement Jess, not only have you openly admitted to totally fucking Jake over, but now I had to go and get all cocky...I'm amazing, I know.

Regardless, I had an awesome welcome back party with Jake...right after he went crazy and hunted me down, to answering his phone call later surprising me with the sweetest boy on the other end asking for his things back. My mind is jell-o right now...and that's the way the cookie crumbles.

Who dicks me over?

Screw You Meter Maid!

I live in a small town, but for some reason...on weekdays, it costs me a $1 to park my car. Now some of you may think, "Oh no! Not a dollar, get over it." But when you work in a shitty mexican restaurant like I do, where you make $6 dollars a day, and gas is $3.25 a gallon, you'd care. I'm starting to think I'd be better off in a sweat shop in Korea.

Anyway, the other day I neglected to put enough money into the parking meter, because I had run out of quarters. This wasn't the first time I've ran out of giant silver coins, so I figured I'd be alright...seeing as the most I've ever worked on a Tuesday is 3 hours. Well when I shuffle my way into work, I noticed that I'm working with a bunch of new waitresses, none of which no how to make any drinks. So I get to be last off...great. Finally, I get out of work and I happen to notice, the meter maid walking about. To be honest, I didn't even think twice about it. So I stroll up to my car and what do I find? A big neon yellow ticket hanging onto my windshield. Not only did this asshole write me a ticket for 10 bucks, but he neglected to put it in a sleeve and it was raining outside. Asshole. So, I take my ticket and attempt to call someone that may be able to take care of it...a.k.a-Dad. No luck there either. Whatev, I'll pay the ticket.

Onto today, I'm sitting at work...and I see the meter maid, oh and did I mention that the meter maid is a tall husky MAN. I just thought that was a bit comical...I mean come on, he doesn't even get to carry a gun, just small yellow tickets...how manly. What a bitch. So I see him walking about and he stops to eat at the restaurant. It happens to be my turn for a table, my already genius mind starts plotting for revenge. He sits down and orders the soft taco lunch with sour cream. Oh man...was this going to be good. I go into the back to grab his sour cream for his amazing mexica fiesta lunch, and I just happen to remember some diet pills I have in my purse. These are not just any diet pills, they are pretty much laxatives, and they happen to be white...just like sour cream. Muahahaha, I crushed a few of those bad lads into pieces, but as I was scheming the cook walks in and catches me. After I started to talk, he cuts me off and says that he made the meter man..excuse me...meter maid's food "extra special." Apparently, the same cop threatened to stick a boot on his car for not paying tickets. So tonight, will be a special night, for the good ole ticket happy meter maid that is slapping shit on all of our cars.

Don't fuck with the people who make your food...didn't his mother tell him that?

>:-]

Violence IS the answer!

I was thinking about my sister today, and lately when I think of her...I enter a state of blind rage. You know...to the point where, the next small child I see skateboarding down the road is getting BLASTED, yeah, and he won't even see it coming. Stupid kids.

Anyway, my sister, Ashley, and I have always had our quarrels. But one particular memory has been popping up in my mind lately. For the most part, it's because this is probably the one and only time I've been violent. Let me set the scene for you...

Ok, its a beautiful fall afternoon...the leaves are falling, birds chirping, you get the point. Ashley and I were told to rake up the neighbors leaves, because their yard was making the whole neighborhood look terrible. (Thanks Dad) So of course, Ash sits and watches, as I rake the entire yard into one heaping pile of crisp fall leaves. As a 12 year old girl, I craved to jump into the newly raked pile, and because I was the one doing all the work, I felt I deserved the reward.
*Enter Ashley* The 10 year old destroyer of good times, waltzes right over and decides she is going to stop me from entering my blissful pile of leaves. Every move I take advancing towards the heavenly mattress of leaves, BAM a kick to the shins leaves me lying in the grass.
*Enter blind rage* Alright, so after 10 minutes of this...I'm starting to get a little angry, I had to do something. DING! Light bulb goes on, the plan I had was brilliant. Ok, so here comes Ashley, leg cocked back...ready to let it fly right into one of my shins. Running full force, I come to a screetching halt as I watch her leg fly through the air, missing me completely. Before she knows whats coming, my already cocked back fist of fury is hurling towards her left eye, BAM, she dropped like a prostitutes pants at the sight of a hundred dollar bill.
*Oh shit* So there lies Ashley, crying, cupping what was once a beautiful brown eye (and still is, that bitch) and I think to myself, "Oh God, I'm going to get my ass whipped by Dad." So of course, I take off running...now normally a girl my age would have ran into a friends house or into the most secure hiding place ever. But nooooo not me, I run directly into my own house, panicking and standing directly in front of my dad. Great...
*Que Bill* Immediately I began trying to tell my father what had happened, now I'm not sure about all of you, but "Dad I punched Ashley in the face for trying to kick me, and now she's crying and bleeding" probably isnt' the best line to open with. I chose the route that most of us would have. Crying I blurted out, "Dad sjdaklf she ajskdl;f and then I wouernbalkda, *cries*" Afterwards, I ran into my room crying. To this day, I'm not sure if my Dad was stumped by what I had attempted to say, or it could be the fact that he watched the entire thing happened, and purposely ran into me to see if I would confess, but I didn't get into trouble for doing that to Ashley. He just said, "Jess, there will be a day when she is going to fight back." Yeah like that was going to happen...I was the older sister, she can't touch me.
*Enter puberty* Little did I know that years later she would be 4 inches taller than me and 30 lbs heavier....and I guess I should have replayed this memory when I was egging her on in front of my friends, and she blasted me in the nose and ruined my first sleep over....what a bitch.


>: )

Brought to you by Tom!

Well here goes, my first blog EVER! I know, I know...you are just as excited as I am. In fact, I'm not even sure anyone is going to read this, but I figured I'd give it a shot.

So I hear wireless Internet can get sort of expensive these days, now don't quote me on this but...sometimes I hear people rambling on about it. It almost makes me feel guilty that I've been stealing it from unknown sources for the past 3 years...almost.
Recently, I've found out who has been providing me with this lovely Internets gift, none other than my neighbor, Tom. Tom's a simple man, he plants his flowers, makes sure his yard is clean, an all around decent man...except he thoroughly hates me. I'm not sure why, it could have been the time I egged his white van, and put birdseed in his yard. Or maybe it was that other time when I smeared jelly donuts and ketchup on the very same vehicle, who knows. It's not like I didn't get caught Tom...don't you remember that apology note I HAD to write to you, which I personally delivered while your dog took a shit on my lawn. (I had to pick that up by the way, Tom) And besides, what kid didn't do something destructive during their childhood. It just cuts me deep that Tom doesn't even wave hello 7 years later.
Well, Tom, I guess I just wanted to let you know that for every year you've continued your hatred for me, I have been stealing your precious wireless Internet. Yep, every time you lose a few Mbps...that's me! And just so you know, I fully enjoy every second of it. The worst part is, is that when Tom finally forgives me...maybe I'll tell him that I've been cheating him of his wireless, but I'll never tell him that so are my neighbors, my dad, and any other computer owner within 150 feet of dear old Tom's house.

:-)