Category: Personal shit


Hello again.

Life is…alright. 🙂

I’ve got a new job. I work with clothes now. Don’t really feel like naming it publicly, since, as always, I like to keep my job. I get paid more out on the floor than I ever made as a “manager” at walmart, so that’s nice. Work isn’t too hard except that my body is more than a little annoyed with me. My knees have been protesting, and my hand doesn’t like it when I make a pinching motion (or even turning on the screen on my phone due to it going to sleep). Like, I’m somewhat concerned about my hand, but I’m pretty sure it’s because of how I’ve been holding the hangers, and I hope that will help it, at least a little.

Some of you may remember me obsessing about wanting to join roller derby? Well, I’ve gone and signed up for a fresh meat class. There might be a minor hitch the plans, but if so, it’ll all be fixed by the next time they offer the class (which is necessary before you can try to join the league!) I’m going to buy skates for it on Tuesday. I have skates, but apparently they are ill suited for derby, the least of it being they are high top and the ankles need to be able to move freely. Only problem is, skate shop is up in Nashua, which is a state over. Only about an hour away though. And maybe I’ll make a day of it by going to the indoor sky diving place that is literally right down the street from where the skate shop is (I probably won’t, shhh)

Funny story. I’ve been to the indoor sky diving place before. Lots of fun. Most recently, I actually saw skate shop as we were leaving. I saw the name, and wondered what in the world was sold there. And now here I am, actually making a trip specifically to go to said store. But seriously, it’s literally right down the street. I was amazed. I can probably see sky  diving place from skate shop, and vice versa.

But oh, if only I didn’t have to go there. But the gear needs to actually fit, class starts a week from Wednesday, returns would take forever, and there’s no sizing chart on the website. But I should get it from them, because they do a special deal with “fresh meat”.

OH MY GOD I’M SO EXCITED THIS MIGHT ACTUALLY FINALLY BE HAPPENING!!! And the best part is, when I tell people, they don’t expect little ol’ me to even WANT to do roller derby.

Other than that, things are things. The holidays went well, if awkwardly. Still mostly not talking to my mom, this mostly on her side this time for reasons I can’t even begin to fathom (seriously, I have no idea). Survived Nemo, and might post some ridiculous pictures soon. And….that’s it. I work. I come home. I watch bad tv shows. I sleep. Repeat. Sometimes something cool happens. Not that interesting. 🙂

If I did my math right (which I may not have….)

About $8000 will get me finished up with school, assuming that everything would transfer fine and I understood the requirements right. For undergrad, that is. Graduate school is a whole ‘nother beast. And we’re talking, like, before aid and everything….

Me finishing school involves a lot less debt than I was expecting. A lot less.

Still need to fix up a few issues before I go back though. Residual annoyances from the whole having to stop going in the first place, which lead to me moving here in the first place. So I need to get a job, and get money, before I can go. But that is **crosses fingers** hopefully falling into place. And now that I’m thinking about it, that’s making me endlessly worried too. Gulp. But they offer tuition reimbursement, so that’d make things even easier….

Dear god though, it’s getting close. It’s looking more and more possible. I can almost taste it. It’s so close it hurts, and it’s so hard to wait. And I can’t even go talk to them until I get the financial shit sorted out, because if I get it all planned out and then it takes too long and I can’t go…I’d be crushed. I honestly don’t think I could handle that. To get so close to going back, just to fail….can’t do it. But….

This is a lot less to worry about than I thought it was. I mean, $8000 isn’t pocket change. But I remember when I first went away to school, about $8000 was the gap between my aid and what I needed. And for that to be all that’s left for me to finish….makes it seem a lot more manageable.

Maybe I’ll be able to fulfil my resolution to finish school come fall semester. That’d be nice. If I get the job I want, I’ll be able to fulfil all my resolutions. Here’s to this being an amazing year!

Resume flailing…

So, I’m trying to get an “adult job”. I’m tired of all the retail BS. I mean, it’s a job, but even if I was working 40 hours a week at walmart (which they wouldn’t allow, and I didn’t want anyways…I hated my life enough with the 30-something hours I got…) I wouldn’t have been able to afford an apartment once you add in things like utilities, and food, and such….like, that’s a studio with just me. I mean, if it got bumped up to a one bedroom, and boyfriend contributed….we’d still be kinda close to not being able to make it (because with boyfriend comes car insurance and gas and car maintenance…..). Nevermind trying to afford a car of my own (we’re lucky boyfriend and I got jobs so close, otherwise I’m not sure how well things would have worked…my short-lived job at the mall was hellish trying to figure out transportation, especially considering that the bus in this town can’t be depended on, and actually screwed me out of a job interview….) or anything like that…

So, I posted a mopey facebook post about wanting an undo button for life, because I was just so darn mopey about my situation. And a friend of mine checked in, because I’m not that prone to posting sad facebook messages (angry, I do very very well, because I’m good at ranting…but sad, I don’t do too often…). Friend has a good job. Friend can “refer” me to another job in said company that I am actually potentially qualified for. Sweet.

But then I look at my reusme….the poor thing has seen better days. And I want to make a good impression, since I reflect upon friend. So I decide to remake my resume with a new template and make everything spifferific….

And then I get to the objective section.

The objective section makes no freaking sense to me. The objective is, obviously, to find a job, or I suppose get experience for an internship.  But you can’t write “my objective is to be as obedient as a wage slave as I need to be for you to give me a paycheck.” Well, you can, but I doubt you’d get hired. (Don’t give me that crap about finding a job I love. I don’t know of any job that consists of sitting around in my PJ’s all day and watching anime, playing video games, and being on tumblr. And I don’t really have the motivation to write for a living, nor, I think, the skill, as much as I love it) Employers know that most of the time, it’s about getting a job. I feel like it’s a sadistic trick….”Let’s make them lie really really well if they want this job. Let’s see who gets the most flowery”

As much as I hate online retail job applications in general, I think they have the right idea. Fill in the blanks with your info. I mean, sure, many of them have the option to upload your resume as well, but… it’s not necessary, and often, won’t reflect poorly on you if you don’t, because THEY ALREADY HAVE ALL OF YOUR INFORMATION! RESUME IS SUPERFLUOUS AT THAT POINT!

But I want this job. Really bad. I’m not going to get into specifics, but it’s really cool. Commute may kinda suck for a bit, but I have plans for that too.

I’m also trying to kick caffeine. I’ve currently got a headache that kills that I’ve had since yesterday, and I’m irritable as all get out. And there are handymen (boyfriend’s parents are on a home improvement kick) and they’re banging and painting and monopolizing both bathrooms and I really need to use one of them. Bah. Bad day for this. Oh well. I’m probably cranky enough that Andrew is gonna force some soda into me anyways >_<.

But I should really stop procrastinating. I should go work on that. Wish me luck.

Thanksgiving!

Things I am thankful for (in no particular order):

My life

My health

My friends

The fact that I am employed (if not the actual job)

My phone (it likes do to things like have the touch screen stop working, or forget all my contacts and stuff like that, but it’s a relatively reliable smart phone that does what I need, usually)

My family, even the ones who aren’t related by blood, and even the ones far away.

The fact that I have a roof over my head, whether I am employed or not

My brain, and how it works (usually. And even when I don’t like how it works, I like that I know it’ll go back to the other way eventually)

My little spiky ball of hate (aka my hedgie)

And that I’m going to be able to have a tasty dinner today. So many people won’t.

I wrote this last night, because as we speak, I’m either in Maine or on my way up. Have a great and safe Thanksgiving!

Random dribble

If, by some random weird quirk of fate, I ever become a stripper, my stripper name will be Chastity. This has been brought to you by “Going to see Magic Mike with my friend this morning”.

So, going to the bathroom in my high school was a Very Serious Issue. You see, at any given time, there were only half or so of the bathrooms open. You found out which ones were open by finding the bathroom monitor, which were teachers who were assigned to sit at a table outside the bathroom. You went there, you signed in, with the time you got there, did your business, signed out with the time you left, and went back to class. (What was done with the forms? I don’t know. It kinda creeps me out to imagine them all filed away somewhere in the office…)

Sometimes you’d get overzealous bathroom monitors, or teachers. You see, the bathroom monitor had to sign your pass back to class. But if you took too long either to get to the bathroom, or were in the bathroom too long, they wouldn’t sign it (this only happened once the entire time I was there, when I had to poo during third period, but some other people I knew it happened to rather frequently until they figured out they could avoid those ones by going to another floor, because they were tired of being penalized for having class on the opposite side of the building). And in some classes, not getting the pass signed could mean detention, because the  teacher would check, and assume you hadn’t gone to the bathroom instead. (Some teachers were very suspicious of the students. They would call the nurse and ask “What (name) there last period?” because them puking in class could have just been a ploy to get out of class. Yes, I kid you not, there was a teacher who did this)

That, in and of itself, was annoying enough. I mean, first you force me to come to this place almost every day, and then you proceed to treat me like a criminal, and tell me I took too long pooping so you’re not going to sign my slip and get me a detention, which makes me stay at this place even longer? But it got worse than that. Two specific incidents come to mind…

Supposedly, there was a gang problem at my high school. I say supposedly, because I never actually say any evidence besides teenagers being teenagers and boasting that they were a gang. And supposedly, there was one called the Red Shirt Fraternity. And they are why I got sent to my administrator by a bathroom monitor.

It was a Thursday. It was my first, maybe second week of school. It’s at some point before lunch, because I was wondering if I would be able to find my new friends at lunch that day. I had to use the bathroom. As I’m signing in, the bathroom monitor goes, “What do you think you’re doing, wearing that?”

I look down with alarm at my clothing. I was confused, and had no idea what she was talking about. I knew the dress code was different, but all I was wearing was a red t-shirt that covered everything, a pair of jeans, and some sneakers. I looked confusedly at her. Apparently that constituted giving her attitude, and I was escorted down to the administrator.

I was so confused and worried. What had I done that landed me in the administrator’s office already? Was I going to be a “bad kid” at my new school?

The administrator called me in to his office. When he asked, I honestly told him I had no idea why I was brought there. He mentioned that I should know not to wear red shirts on Thursday, because it was a “gang sign” and no “gang signs” were allowed in the school. I quickly assured him that I had no idea of that, and that it was only my second week in this school and how there was nothing about red shirts in the dress code, and that I had studied it to make sure I wouldn’t get in trouble because the dress code was so different than the other school I had been to. He believed me, and let me go, with a warning to “never wear red on a Thursday again!”
(the funny thing is, unintentionally, I did a few other times, later on during my time there. No one said anything. Funny how arbitrary things are…)

Another time, it was near the beginning of the school year. I had on a pair of boy-shorts, because due to the restrictions on length of shorts and my disproportionately long at the time legs, no pairs of girl shorts fit me at the time, and a somewhat baggy t-shirt. However, I had long flowing hair to my shoulders, and that was my normal fashion those days, so I thought nothing of it.

Went to go to the girl’s bathroom. “That’s the wrong door..” the monitor said. I look up, to make sure it’s the lady’s room. Try to go in the bathroom again. “I said that’s the wrong door!” she replied. I turned around, yelled at the top of my lungs, “I’M A GIRL!!!!!” and stormed into the bathroom. She apologized to me on my way out, but after seeing me look at the sign, and then continue to try to go in, you’d think she got the picture. I made sure that I was going into the right door. No need to push your preconceived ideas of how a boy or a girl should look like on me.

There was a point to this post, originally. I forget now. I’m just going to chalk it up as a random “experiences in the life of a Momo” post.

Passport

So, I am going to Canada this summer, to visit with a friend, and to say I’ve finally crossed a national border. Plus, why do I have to justify a small mini-vacation away from my job? I’m allowed to have fun sometimes!

To go to Canada, you need a passport.

To get a passport, you need a birth certificate. (Or a ridiculous amount of other documentation that I don’t have. Like, I have a baptismal certificate somewhere, and I’m sure my mom, were she interested in speaking with me [apparently, I’m dead to her], would have some of the other stuff, but even then I don’t think we’d have all of it). Not only a birth certificate, but one with both parent’s names on it.

I only have a small one with only my mom’s name on it, and even then, I’m not quite sure exactly where it is (I had a hiding space. I remember thinking it was a good hiding place. But now I can’t find it….). So I had to get a copy of my birth certificate.

I looked up the ruled, and nearly cried. It would take 6-8 weeks to process, and then they’d mail it by standard mail, and then I’d have to wait 4-6 weeks for my passport. By that point, the summer would be over. What was the point?

But then I saw there was an online service for getting your passport. A bit more expensive, but I’d have my birth certificate by the end of the week! AND I wouldn’t have to either go down there to a town where I have no family and no other reason to be there or sending the paperwork to the wrong place and having to spend the money all over again (there were two different places it could be, and no easy way to tell which one you would need to send the money to)

I went to the website. Okay, $30 for the certificate, that’s what the state charges…..about $13 for your fee for doing it…okay, a bit steep, but I can deal with that for getting my birth certificate in time…HOLY HELL WHAT DO YOU MEAN ALMOST $18 FOR THE SHIPPING?!?!?!?

For better or ill, I went through with it. First, they were annoyed that while my name matched the name on the birth certificate, it didn’t match the address I wanted it sent to. I needed a new license anyways (my old one from another state was expiring) so I went and got a new one and scanned it. Then it wasn’t big enough. So on and so forth. Until my birth certificate FINALLY showed up in the mail last week. I was so happy!

Went to submit the paperwork today.

They kept my birth certificate.

I mean, they’ll mail it back, once they have used it for their purposes in verifying my identity. But I only got it last week, and went through so much trouble to get it…and now they took it away. Why isn’t a copy good enough, like it is with my driver’s license? (Good thing they didn’t keep that, or I wouldn’t have been able to get home!!) I still have places where I need that to prove my identity! I’m sure it’ll be fine, but there was a moment of “Wait, what do they think they’re doing with that?!?!?!?!” panic.

But yeah. Barring any hiccups or them denying me a passport (why would they deny my passport? I can’t think of any good reason….)  I get it in early August. And then, depending on what work for boyfriend and Canadian friend, we’ll be off to Canada sometime mid-to-late August (no plans set in stone yet!)

But, I must be off. Today boyfriend and I have been together for four years, and I’ve got a little bit of readying to do with my present before he gets out of work. Ta!

I feel like telling you all a story from when I was younger….

I went to two high schools. The first one’s dress code was “as long as it doesn’t create a disturbance in class”.

I verified this with all the administrators I had come across. This was the policy. No matter what, if it didn’t cause a disturbance in the classroom, it was okay.

So one day, I decided to wear a thong on the outside of my pants. You see, the “trend” at the time was for girls to wear low-cut jeans with their thongs sticking out. I personally thought it looked silly, so I figured I’d do something equally silly to comment on it.

All was well, until 7th period. You see, between periods, and during study hall and lunch, I got a few questions, but in the actually classes, no one said anything. So I was still within policy, although only by a bit. And then the teacher told me that it was inappropriate and that I needed to take my thong off.

“But I’m not breaking any rules. It hasn’t caused any disturbances in any classes, and your class hadn’t even started! And anyways, why is my outfit any worse than hers? The only difference between my outfit and her outfit is a few inches of pants and the placement of the thong!” I said, pointing to the girl next to me. (She was actually pretty nice, if I remember correctly. She later told me she didn’t agree with the teacher making me take it off)

She then proceeded to spin some sort of excuse that teachers are allowed discretion over dress code policies and that was why she was allowed to not let students wear hats in her class and so I needed to go and take the thong off NOW or there would be consequences.

I wish I could live that day over again, just so that I could stand my ground against her. Argue with her. Dare her to do something.

But I was only 14, and a very meek 14-year-old at that. So I went to the bathroom and took off the thong.

But, I did not let her win completely. I took her at her word, that it was a her classroom rule, and put on the thong on the way to the next class.

Apparently, one of my classmates didn’t like this, and went back and told her. Not even five minutes into the next class, the teacher from the previous class showed up, and told the other teacher that he needed to tell me to take it off because she had told me to take it off and it was inappropriate.

I was almost worth it to see the teacher say it. He was this quiet, mild-mannered, white-haired old man.

“Momo (except he used the name I went by then), are you wearing something that (mean lady teacher from previous period) told you not to wear?” She was standing there next to him, glaring at me.

I sensed the opportunity here. “YOU MEAN MY THONG?!” I cried, standing up, drawing obvious attention to it. I felt almost bad for the guy, it wasn’t his fault, but if I was asked to take the thong off again, I was going to make sure as hell I at least made it violate dress code before I did it.

He went red, and didn’t really address what I said. “You need to go to the ladies room and remove that….”

“Oh no need for me missing class. I’ll do it right here!” And I started trying to take the thong off.

“No! Nonono! In the ladies room!” he stammered.

I felt as though my point had been made well enough, and so I walked out of the room, staring the mean teacher in the eye as I left. I later apologized to the kindly old teacher, explaining that I had reacted as I had because, up until that point, had no fuss made while in a class due to my outfit, and that I was being unfairly targeted. He said that he understood my point, but he didn’t want to undermine the other teacher’s authority or something like that.

Then, in the next school I went to, I got in trouble for wearing red on the wrong day. But that’s a long story, for another post….

Meh

Can someone please just pay me to lay in bed and not do anything but sleep? And make it so that I only ever have to engage society through the internet, and on my terms?

‘Cause that’s all I really want to do these days. Strange, it’s spring, I’m wearing shorts, usually that’s enough to make me happy. Although, I ~DID~ miss my big huge usual winter slump….

Here’s to hoping things get happier soon. ‘Cause I’ve got a lot of other stuff I need to do. Don’t have time to schedule wallowing in. :-/

Pokemon

Boyfriend and I have been playing Pokemon a whole bunch recently. Why? Because we’re ridiculous…

But it made me want to talk about when I first got my gameboy and my first Pokemon cartridge.

My first inkling of pokemon came from a friend I had named Mike. He was super into video games, and got Nintendo Power magazine in the mail. He would show me all about it, and tell me that I needed to get this game, and to make sure I got blue version, because he was getting red version, and how it was going to be all sorts of fun, and he’d catch these pokemon and trade for these other pokemon and it’d be great.

I went and told my mom that those two things were my christmas list. My ENTIRE christmas list.

I remember how sad I was the day when I was told they didn’t think they’d be able to get it for me.

A week or two later, I was asked if I would mind spending my christmas money on getting the game if they bought me the gameboy. My mood perked up, because at that point, I’d do anything to play it. I said, “Of course!”

Now, I feel the need to add here, that I’m not quite sure exactly why I was so excited about this game. I played video games at the time, but I wouldn’t have really considered myself a gamer. Hell, I was still playing a NES most of the time, although, I think by that point, I may have had a N64 at my grandma’s house. All I remember is my friend telling me it was gonna be super cool, him telling me it was almost like a cult or religion or something in Japan, and that I really really really wanted that game. I’m sure there must have been some other reason why, because even as a foolish child (I was 10), there must have been something else going on to make me want that game so bad.

I remember that Christmas morning. I remember opening the gameboy, and being super excited. Not only was it a gameboy color (I believe I had stated at one point that even one of the older ones would work as long as it would play pokemon), but it was one of the clear ones, just like I had wanted. I thought it was so cool you could see all the stuff inside of it. It added a cool factor to the whole thing, I thought. But due to the question I had been asked earlier, I had kinda been expecting it….

And then I remember opening the next present.

And it was Pokemon Blue.

It was the right version of the game I had been dreaming about for months. Even if it had been red, I would have been stoked, but it was blue.

If I remember correctly, I kinda lost my shit. Jumping up and down in happiness, crying happy tears, hugs all around and a million “Thank you!”s. I might have exaggerated it in my head, but I remember just being so very very happy about it.

I immediately opened them both up, ripping the boxes to hell in my impatience to get in there. I remember thinking how small the game was, in comparison to the box. And then I never looked back.

Apparently, there was an option during Christmas that year. Get a gameboy, or get a cable box so that the TV in your room will be able to get cable. I chose the gameboy.

I only remember this because a while later, my grandpa asked me if I regretted getting the gameboy yet. And I said no. And he asked, “What will you get more use out of? A cable box, or that stupid gameboy?” And I replied, “The gameboy!” Mind you, I was still playing that game, while I was talking to him.

It was the truth. I got so much use out of that gameboy. Not only did I play blue version on there, but also yellow version, and gold AND silver. I logged so many hours on each of those games, not stopping with one until the next one came out. And with the exception of a gameboy advance that my boyfriend gave to me but a roomie stole a month later so it wasn’t even really mine for that long, it’s the only gameboy I’ve owned to this day. My little siblings have played with it too. I still have it, and bust it out every so often when I’m in the mood for some “retro” pokemon. Because as cool as emulators are, there’s something magical about going back and playing them on that gameboy.

It’s probably just the nostalgia talking, but it feels like childhood.

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