Psycho Roomie, Part X: The Cereal Box

Shortly before Christmas of 2002, my mom drove to Chico to come help me do my Christmas shopping. It's a tradition she and I have. She knows or has ideas as to what I can get people, and it's a good excuse to have a "girls day" and some fun.

I was getting ready that particular morning, and walked out to the kitchen to get something. Possibly a drink of water. Possibly breakfast. I have no idea. All I recall is needing to go to the kitchen, so I did. I saw a box of Suzi's cereal on the stove. We had burner covers, so it wasn't like it was sitting on a stove-top burner that was on and she was trying to burn down the apartment building or anything. Although, after the whole hot dog thing, I'm not sure I would be surprised if she did that.

I pick up the box of cereal (I believe it was a box of Cocoa Puffs), and find that it's empty. Completely devoid of cereal or the bag that holds said cereal. I'm pretty sure I had a look on my face that resembled this (although, maybe not quite so exaggerated):



I looked the box over to see if maybe there was a game on the back she wanted to play. Nope. I looked the box over to see if there might be a recipe of sorts she wanted to use. Nope. I looked the box over in case I saw something she wanted the proof of purchase to send in for. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing of interest in or on this box of cereal. For the life of me I couldn't figure out why this box was sitting on the stove. I figured it was trash, so I tossed into the garbage. (Now, she was home at this stage, so I could have just asked her but, that would have meant I would have had to talk to her.)

Upon going to my bathroom at the front end of the apartment to do my make-up, I noticed another surprise. A mess of DVD's on the living room floor. It may have been Dawson's Creek. Since they were in the main walking area, I went ahead and moved stuff towards my tiny entertainment center so no one would accidentally step on it. There was no way in Hell I would spend money on that horrid show.

I finished getting ready in my room, probably checked emails and whatnot. I eventually needed to go back into the kitchen. Or walked through it or something. Either way, I noticed something. Something that looked oddly like the cereal box I had tossed away. I walked up to the stove, and my eyes were not playing tricks on me. Suzi had obviously been in the kitchen since I had, and taken the box out of the garbage. And set it directly on the stove where it had sat previously. I just stared at it, thinking maybe the box my psychically tell me why it was sitting on the stove. Again. Well, shocking as it might be, the box told me nothing. If it had, I would have needed the boys in white coats to take me away. I put my hands up like it held a gun on me, and backed away. For whatever reason, I looked at the living room, and I'll be damned if that mess of DVD's wasn't exactly where it had been prior to me moving it - right smack in the middle of the floor.

By this time she was gone. She hadn't said anything to me about either the cereal box or the mess of DVD's. I decided that since she went through the trash to get that cereal box back, she actually needed it for something.

When my mom showed up, she first saw the mess of DVD's lying in the middle of the living room floor. She asked me about it and I told her what happened. She moved the DVD's like I had, closer to the TV, out of harms way. I told her that it would back in the middle of the floor when we got back. In the kitchen she sees the empty cereal box, and asks me about it. I again tell her what happened, and told her I was just going to leave it there. She tossed into the garbage. I tell her that it will be right back on the stove when we get back.

We spent most of the day shopping. Had a wonderful time.

When we got back to the apartment, the DVD's were back in the middle of the living room floor and the cereal box was back on the stove. Not joking. The look on my mom's face was priceless.

Eventually, mom left, and it was back to just me and Suzi. I never asked her about the cereal box or the DVD's, and she never said anything. I didn't move or toss anything, because I had a sneaking suspicion that it would be moved back again anyway.

A couple days after that shopping day, the cereal box was in the trash. Suzi had finally thrown it away. Being that it was on the top, I picked it up to see if anything had changed about the box. Nope. Not a single thing. And once she was done watching Dawson's Creek, it finally got packed up, too.

I'm thinking that those nice boys in the white coats should have been called in regards to her.

Hot Men. 'Nuf Said.

Since my last blog was more or less a rant, I think I'll do a fun one. This is partly inspired by Jewels.

This will be my "Sexiest Men" list.

Harrison Ford

My all-time favorite actor. And he's one of those men who stays sexy as he gets older.

Tom Welling

He looks older when he's not smiling. When he smiles, his boyish charm just shines right through. Enough to make one go weak in the knees.

Josh Turner

While this guy is hot, I'm more in love with his voice than anything. I'm a sucker for a deep voice. Enjoy one of my favorite of his songs.

James McAvoy

I think this picture speaks for itself. (wipes up drool) Ahem - he's usually a geeky sort of guy, but Wanted was definitely a whole different side to this guy.

Colin Firth

I love the character of Mr. Darcy to begin with. And Colin Firth did the character justice.

David Duchovny

This guy made the X-Files soooooooo worth watching. There's just something about him.

Russell Crowe

He was in top form for this film. Not many men can pull of a skirt but he did it quite well.

Hugh Jackman

No words. Seriously. (wipes up more drool)


And a final note: I dedicate this song and video to my friend Jewels, who recently had her feelings hurt by someone who is apparently a waste of air. Jewels, this song will make you laugh, and the video is pretty cute, too. I think of this song anymore when people piss me off or hurt my feelings. I hope this works for you, too. :o)

Observations : The odd, and the annoying.

I'm not really sure if this is more like a pet peeves rant, or just an observational one . . . I guess it's just a random rambling post.

I went into Ulta today to grab a couple items (make-up) that I was running low on, and while I know I had the money in my account I wanted to snatch them up before I ran out. Of the items and the cash. I went in, found my two items and promptly went to the check-out counter. And there was a . . . well, a she-male, I guess. I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure it at least used to be a full-fledged male. Otherwise it looked like quite a manly, flat-chested, 6 foot tall gal. By the name of Reggie. She-he was very nice and was obviously new as she-he kept introducing themselves to other employees. I don't know anyone personally who has gone through any sort of gender alteration. I'm not exactly sure how to "be" around someone who has. Everyone behind the counter kept referring to Reggie as "she", so I'm guessing that if that's not what she started out as . . . that's what she is now.

The other day, I was in (shudder) Wal-Mart doing my grocery shopping. I don't believe in debarking (dogs), but I suddenly became a fan of debarking children. One in particular. First off, I'm walking down an isle, minding my own business, when I hear two people running full-on at the end of the isle, in front of the meats (bacon, sausage, etc.). I turned the corner and one of those people turned out to be an adult, the other a small child. Both were old enough to know way better than to go running through a busy store. And let's face it, Wal-Mart is always busy. After the running incident, the little girl starts hollering a name. Repeatedly. At first I can't understand what she's saying, but it's on my last nerve and everyone is staring at this family for allowing their child to be so damned rude. I finally figured out what she was yelling. "Carmen." I think it was the gal who was running with her earlier. But she wasn't just saying "Carmen", she was drawing it out. So it was more like, "Caaaarrrrmmmmmeeeeeeeeeennnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Over. And over. And over. I'm not sure if everyone with her was ignoring her, prompting her to continue to yell. But, the whole damn store heard this kid. And this was a Super Center, so it's a big freakin' store. Seriously people, shut your kid up. People aren't staring at you because you're fucking gorgeous, okay? They're staring because your kid is being rude and annoying as fuck.

Also, the other day, I had gone into Target for a couple things. Let's face it, Target is so much nicer than Wal-Mart. Although, sometimes, stupid people shop there, too. I was in the check-out line, the gal ringing up my stuff. Behind me was a gal with a young child, a toddler. Was she sitting nicely in the cart, like she was supposed to be? No. She was basically laying on her tummy in it, feet out one side, and her head out the other. Pushing her mother's items all over the conveyor belt, and hollering that she wanted chocolate. "Mummy!! I want chok-lit!!" (was how it sounded). This kid nearly tumbled out of the cart half a dozen times. Even after the check-out gal told the girl, "to be careful". What was Mommy doing during this? Picking out packs of gum. Yeah, because that is sooooo important. More important than your child's safety. Obviously, because she didn't notice the 4 other people around her staring at her child balancing precariously in the cart. Maybe you should stop with just the one, sweetheart.

I'm very curious to know why parking lots are designed the way they end up being designed. Does someone think, "This will look so pretty!". Because it's a death trap waiting to happen. Who in their right mind think it's a brilliant idea to create blind spots in a parking lot? Who's brilliant idea is to plant big-ass trees or tall shrubberies at the ends of the parking aisles? And who decides it's a great idea to make them wind around and be all curvy? It's hard enough to not hit someone else in such close proximity - parking lots don't offer a ton of "personal space". So why on earth would you make it harder? Because it looks pretty? Seriously folks. It doesn't need to look pretty. It needs to be a place to park my damn car whilst I spend my money. That's all. It doesn't need to be a death trap.

Survey Says . . .

Today's post comes from Simple Dude - the Inside the Actors Studio questions. The ones that James Lipton asks at the end of every interview before turning over the actor to the students. I thought, hey that's not a bad post idea - in fact those questions are fun! This way I don't have to wrack my brain for a post idea today. So, without further ado.

1. What is your favorite word?
"Dude." You can literally have an entire conversation with one word. Awesome.

2. What is your least favorite word?
It's actually 3 words - my full name. Oh man, when I hear the full name, I know I'm in trouble. If I had a tail, that's when it would go between my legs.

3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually, or emotionally?
Laughter and respect. Odd combination, I know. When I'm around someone who respects me as a person, and be made to feel like being "just me" is perfectly fine - that's awesome. And being able to laugh with people - good, honest laughter. The kind of laughter that's contagious to those who have no idea what's funny.

4. What turns you off?
Lack of respect. For yourself and your peers/elders. If you can't respect yourself, you can't respect others, and vice versa. No one likes being treated like dirt. But if you treat me that way, I'm sure as shit going to treat you that way.

5. What is your favorite curse word?
Ohhhh, easy. Fuck. I agree with Simple Dude - it's so versatile.

6. What sound or noise do you love?
Horses. A barn-full or a pasture-full of them.

7. What sound or noise do you hate?
Screaming. Like fighting kind of screaming.

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Teacher/Professor.

9. What profession would you like not to do?
Just about anything that Mike Rowe winds up doing for the show, Dirty Jobs. Especially the tanning factory - OMG. Grossest. Thing. EVER.

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
"You did okay, kid. Now get your ass inside have some FUN."

Psycho Roomie, Part IX: The Hot Chocolate Incident

I was spoiled by my first roommate experience. I have to admit. When it came to sharing things, we typically didn't mind. We tried to be considerate about it. Like if she and her boyfriend used the last of my butter, they'd buy me some next time they grocery shopped. Her boyfriend often asked me for stamps. He actually would give me exact change for each stamp he took. If I ate some of her crackers, I'd buy her a new box next time I was at the store. Often we'd ask before we took anything, but there times we'd have to say something after the fact.

During college, my first three years anyway, I lived close enough to campus that I walked. I enjoyed my walks to campus. Mornings were always nicest, in the summer it was before the heat of the day. In the winter, the crisp air was nice even if it did sting my eyes. In the winter I often walked with a travel mug of hot chocolate to help keep me warm. This was in addition to a sweater, a coat that goes to my knees, mittens, scarf, and a hat. No I didn't attend school in the Mid-West where temperatures can often be below zero. It's still California, but for those that live in the Northern part of the state, winter can get cold.

With my first roommate, I'd often "borrow" packets of hot chocolate if I ran out. I'd replace them. She didn't have to ask me to. I did it on my own, out of consideration. That and Karma's a bitch.

The winter I lived with Suzi, I, at one point, ran out of hot chocolate. I hated buying cups of hot chocolate at school, because even though they tasted awesome, it got expensive. Plus I would burn the taste buds off and the roof of my mouth with the first sip, so everything felt and tasted funny for the rest of the day. You can stop giggling at me now.

The morning I realized I was out of hot chocolate, she had already left for the day. I decided I'd take a packet. I had every intention of making sure I bought her more - I had to go to the store in a couple days anyway. It wasn't like she drank it near as much as me; I rarely saw her drink hot chocolate. She used the Nestle brand, with the marshmallows in it. I used, and still use, Swiss Miss. It's cheaper and you get more packets in a box.I left her a note on the whiteboard in the kitchen that I took a packet, just in case she kept inventory. It wouldn't shock me. I made it up, and ran off to school. When I came home, my note was gone. She had written nothing in return. When we were home together she didn't say anything, either. I figured she didn't mind.

Next day, same thing. On the third day I finally made it to the grocery store. When I picked up a box of her Nestle hot chocolate, I discovered it was twice the amount mine was, and she got less than half of what I got packet-wise. I hadn't noticed a taste difference. And the marshmallows got in the way of the sippy-hole of my travel mug. I still bought the damn box, because I had every intention of giving her the whole box to repay what I took.

I got home, groceries in tow. Her mom was in town for a couple days. Again. While she came across as nice, the woman was a hoverer. Way more than the average mother. She was constantly worried if we kept the front door locked, as "some stranger from the street could just show up" since we lived right on the road. If she was so worried about her daughter's safety, why didn't she have Suzi move? In fact, we weren't in a bad part of Chico. That's what I didn't understand. Minus the random dumpster-diver, we had no trouble at all.

Sorry, I digress, again. Suzi and her mom are out for the time being. I start putting my groceries away, and I opened up a cupboard. What I find is rather upsetting.

It was a box of Suzi's hot chocolate, with torn pieces of binder paper taped all over it. In Suzi's mother's handwriting, it said the following, "Suzi's Hot Chocolate!", "Suzi Only!".

I was more than offended. I had left the bitch a note regarding the hot chocolate. And she has her mommy go out and buy her a new box because I took 3 packets?! WTF?

I grabbed the box I bought for her and nearly tossed it. Instead, I took 3 packets and rubber-banded them together with a sticky note that said: "Here are the packets to replace what I took. I had every intention of replacing them". I had intended on giving her the whole box. Oh hell no. Not now. I stuff the remaining three packets into my box of Swiss Miss that I had just bought. I stuff the box down into the bottom of the garbage - out of sight.

A few weeks later, it was Christmas. She had made us stockings to hang outside our bedroom doors and put presents in. I put shit in hers. Whoa. Not literal shit. Just shit. I bought stupid kids toys and she was in love with them. Second childhood my ass - she never left her first. What did I find in my stocking?

A fucking box of Nestle Hot Chocolate with Marshmallows.

I got bitch-slapped without being touched.

I think and I think . . . yet, am still uncertain.

A few blogs back, I mentioned something (a mere snippet) about needing to mull something over myself. I've been wanting to blog about it, yet I'm still not sure if I really know what to think. Is that normal? To think something over, then you think your over-thinking it, so you try to stop thinking about it, then you start thinking your not thinking enough. Good Lord, it's enough to drive a person bat shit crazy.

Since I've started blogging, I know I've mentioned that money is a wee bit on the short side, and how I'm having to seriously budget myself. I've been doing okay, making it without having to go beg my parents for money. I have forbidden myself to participate in the United Way campaign at my job, simply because I don't have the spare money to donate for 8 weeks in a row. Or one week, for that matter. I've cut down on my random spending. Before I put something that I "want" versus "need" in my cart, I put it back on the shelf and tell myself that when I'm done shopping for the things I require and I have extra money, I will get it. Hasn't happened yet. I've cut down on my eating out - which was mostly convenience as I really don't care for cooking. Seriously, they shouldn't make eating out so accessible. It ought to be a crime.

I've blogged about my job. Little bits here and there, sometimes about the pressure (United Way, anyone?), the nights from hell (hand pumping water for 8 hours) , and the silly (hello stainer conversation). I've blogged about working graveyard shift, which in case you were wondering, still sucks after working it for 6 years. My parents once told me they that they had given me something like 6 months of working graveyard before I'd quit. And I did quit once. I found another job, working normal 8-5. Turned out, it wasn't a good fit. Turns out the job description was a generalized description and had nothing to do with my actual job. I had to pay for parking, union dues, and better benefits. In the end, I got paid less and I took a step backward and was bored to the point of self destruction. It lasted about 2 full months. I left that job and went crawling back to my old one. And there I've stayed.

During my parents most recent visit a couple weeks ago, they mentioned a possibility to me. A possibility that has been mentioned to me before off and on by my grandparents for the last few years. My grandfather owns a cattle ranch, and also has a publication. They've tried to get me up there for years. I was always on a new lease with an apartment complex. I knew I wouldn't get paid what I do at my current job (which I still feel isn't near enough, but I'm a peon so what's it matter?). There was always some excuse I had, even though part of me wanted to go up there and give it a shot.

What if that opportunity came knocking now? I'll be going up there in a couple weeks to visit, and I'm sure it will come up. Especially considering the conversation my parents had with me a couple weeks ago. My parents had just come back from a few days with my grandparents and from what I can tell, the subject matter came up. From what I gather, my grandfather would like me to take over his business(es).

Am I ready to drop everything here? To move to a place where I know two people (my grandparents)? To move to a place where (single) men are rather scarce? A place that boasts one 4-way stop in town, and it's not out of place to see a 10yr old driving a Dodge Ram in town? A town that has like, one restaurant in town? A place where not even Wal-Mart exists?



But was I ready to move to Sac 6 years ago? I never really liked big cities, and Sac was more than big enough for me to get lost in a dozen times my first few months here. I knew two people when I moved here - the sister of the guy I was dating and her boyfriend. Not that I hung out with them without the boyfriend around, so really, I didn't know a soul here. I've never really had a proper life here. Most of the people I know are people I work with. That was just another reason for me starting to volunteer down here - to meet people. My hours make any attempt at a social life just that much more difficult. Between my hours and my shyness, men are just as scarce in the big city. Plus when I do meet them, they're city boys, not country boys.

Truth is, I love going up there to their ranch. It's peaceful. It's almost like going back in time. People wave at you as you drive through town - even when they don't know you. I like it when they put me to work up there. I usually learn something, and I enjoy being outdoors. I'm not afraid of hard work. I haven't been very happy for a long time. While I like my job and that fact that I have a job, there's too much that goes on that eventually wears on you. Makes you all "snippy". While I like the majority of those I work with, there are some that I have lost all respect for - this includes members of management. I live paycheck to paycheck, and my rent payment is what some people pay for their mortgages. I deem that slightly unfair.

My parents told me that 25 years ago, they were in a similar spot. They wanted to get out of the city and back to where they grew up. My grandfather (my mom's dad) helped them out. He asked my parents how much money they had saved up. Their reply? Five dollars. Not a far cry from where I currently sit.

I have no idea what I'm going to do. For the first time, things could actually work. I might be able to go to a place where I'm happier, and have a job I enjoy doing. Is it possible? Could I really just up and leave? I've been chewing on this for a couple weeks. I've shed tears over it, trying to figure things out for myself. All I've ever wanted was just to be happy.

And right now, I know I'm not.

Award time!!

I have to send a huge thank you out to Jewels for my second award (she also gave me my first . . . I think I'm starting to see a pattern here. . .). Jewels was kind enough to bestow up on me the Versatile Blogger Award. And as always, there are rules that go along with blog Awards - you know, share the blog love and all.

1. Thank and link back to the person who gave me this award.
2. Tell everyone 7 things about myself
3. Pass this award to 15 other bloggers
4. Contact the bloggers that I picked and tell them about the award

1. Thank you Jewels - you made my day! I look forward to reading your posts every day. Some make me laugh, others cry, and some just make me nod my head in complete and total agreement. Keep up the awesome blogging work.

2. 7 things about me:

• I love the Harry Potter books/movies. I'm sad and excited about the 7th film coming out (both parts), as it's the end of an amazing series. I've read the books numerous times and watched the movies countless times.
• I am a walking contradiction - I own an SUV, yet I am concerned about the environment. I hate BP for their stupid oil spill in the Gulf, yet I gas up at Arco because it's cheap (hey, I'm on a budget, and saving 21cents/gallon minimum . . .). I could go on.
• I love scary movies but being that I live alone, I will only watch them during daylight hours with the lights on. Although, the last scary movie I watched, that totally did not help - Paranormal Activity scared the Holy Living Shit right out of me and I admit (ashamedly) that I had to sleep with the light for the first time since I was a child because I was scared shitless that some entity was going to come out of the shadows and try to drag me up to the freakin' attic. I have yet to watch another scary movie. I guess you could say I have a healthy fear of "hauntings" or "possessions". There are things in this world we will never understand. The last movie to scare me anywhere near that bad was The Ring.
• I research my family history/genealogy. It's kind of off and on, and I'm definitely no professional at it, but I've made interesting headway. I have found a link to Presidents John and John Quincy Adams - very cool to know that I'm related to one of our Founding Fathers. Although to balance it all out, the other side of my family has Vaudeville. Yeah. Apparently they were pretty popular about a hundred or so years ago in California.
• I was forced to "fire" my cat about a year ago as she literally ran away from a lizard in the house. She took off so fast she left skid marks and a cloud of dust. Forcing me to get it onto a dustpan and slowly walk it outside. I don't much care for lizards in my house, and apparently, neither does the cat. Fearless hunter my ass.
• I love Ansel Adams photography. I managed to get two pictures cheap in college, and they are among my favorite things to hang when I move into a new place. His pictures are always so peaceful and serene and capture the wild beauty of nature. My favorite of his stuff is typically from his Mural Project in the 1940s. I love black and white photography, and I could just stare at his stuff for hours. My best friend and I went to see an exhibition at the S.F. Museum of Modern Art last year of Ansel Adams and I just loved looking at all his stuff. Everything else, eh.
• Until I was about 11, I would only read horse books. Seriously. I was sooooo in love with horses, that's all I would read about. My first non-horse book was a Sweet Valley Twins book, given to me by my great-grandma. I soon started reading other authors of non-horse books. I'm still in love with horses, but it's not as "obsessive" as before. I don't find as many horse books as I did when I was a kid, although last year, I read "Chosen by a Horse" a tale of a woman who rescues an abused horse and how it affects her life.

3. Pass this award on to 15 other bloggers. In no particular order, they are:

365 Ways
Hyperbole and a Half
Red Means Go
Simple Dude in a Complex World
The Adventures of Cinderita
Love is in the Smog
Ramblings of an Emotional Idiot
The Bitchy Waiter
The Frisky Virgin
Turning 30: A Journey of Self Exploration
Pablo's Angel
Ravings and Rantings of a Raving and Ranting Soul
The Ranter's Box
Single Dad Laughing

Okay, so I know that's only 14, but . . . that's who I follow. And for good reason!

These awards, silly as some might be, are wonderful to receive. I started doing this whole blogging thing because I was broke and I was looking to entertain myself with something free. And looking for an outlet, too, I think. These awards are given by complete strangers - strangers who have happened across my blog and leave comments and become "followers". It's nice to know that out there are others who share similar worries, cares, or troubles, or even pet peeves, and that you're not alone in how you feel about anything. I've come to love my little "blogging family" and hope that it continues to grow.