So breaking into the comedy community is really easy... If you're an asshole.
I'm feeling super discouraged lately because of all these auditions I've been going to at Second City. I haven't taken classes there since two summers ago and I feel completely out of that loop. So I've been trying to get myself in there for the time being while I can only afford classes at iO.
I am so thrilled to be studying at iO, by the way. Glad I took that leap. To be honest, signing up for those classes was such a whim. But I realized I see more shows there than any other theatre in town. So why not study from the best? DUH. Next on the once-I-get-a-job-and-can-afford-more-classes list is the Annoyance. I guess I just really vibed with Susan Messing and her teachings and I want more.
Which brings me to my point. She's all about making bold and specific choices on stage and sticking to them to let the comedy rise. After studying under her at iO, I walk into these auditions at Second City and everyone around me makes me feel so uncomfortable to improvise because I get this overwhelming feeling that they don't care who they yell over for a cheap laugh. That does NOT make me want to play with you. Hate to say. Maybe these past couple of experiences have been isolated incidents. I don't know. It doesn't make me feel good. I feel like I just fade into some sort of white washed picket fenced background when I'm over there.
I feel like I know my comedy style pretty well, I just need to know how to control it. I'm such an anxious person already and if you put me into a high stress slash extremely uncomfortable situation, I find that being "myself" is the last thing I want to be. So naturally I protect myself from being hurt or embarrassed or insulted by just going flat. I'm in an audition with a bunch of chuckleheads who want to be THE FUNNIEST PERSON IN THE ROOM and I just give up and retreat. I'd rather protect my process than try and match their boink-fest (to quote Susan) energy.
This is absolutely not to say that the teachers over there encourage their students to be a bunch of self involved obnoxious jerks. I know for a fact they don't. But something really goes out the window with young comedians my age when you're put in front of writers. Honesty and integrity. I want to play with honest people who just want to have fun.
Oughhh. I've got the willies.
Remind me next time to write about how all girls are born hating all other girls and that the rest of our lives we spend trying to suss out which girl can we call a friend in hopes to protect us from the other girls who don't know why but hate us for just being girls and being in their personal space. Chill out! Heaven forbid we have a conversation about common interests. I'm not trying to hit on your mediocre and douchey guy friends. Go fly a kite... FOR REAL.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
2011
People ask me all the time if having a birthday on New Years Eve sucks or not. I'm here to tell you today that it most definitely does not. I don't think I've met someone who didn't feel like partying on my birthday, so for that reason it's nice.
Who I feel really bad for are all those people born on the 1st of January. Who wants to go out drinking on national hangover day? Your birthday is completely steamrolled by the celebration of my birthday. So suck on that. (I actually have a friend, Johnny, who was born on the 1st. He just hosts a hungover pizza party every year at his place. I say that's pretty cool)
So here we are. A new year. The year of the rabbit. That's me! That means this year is going to be my year. I can feel it. As we toasted our champagne before the party last night, my roommates and I each went around and summed up our 2010 experience for each other. All I could really remember of 2010 was that I
1.) Broke my foot
2.) Graduated from college
3.) Moved to Chicago
Of course those are the most nuttiest of shells... But truly, the year kind of just flew right past me. If feels like it was last week that I hung that temporary handicap placard on my rearview mirror and hobbled across campus to Audition Technique at 8 in the God damn morning.
It's not to say that 2010 flew past me and was a complete wash. I definitely think the last half of the year, the moving to Chicago part, was an eye opening experience. I figured out how to be an adult and start my career and even put a few building blocks in place. I know I have more structural work to get done, but I laid a pretty good framework thus far. I am proud of myself.
Aw... Interjection time: We are currently cat sitting for our downstairs neighbor while she's out of town. I am, for the most part, allergic to cats so I like to keep them out of my room and off of my furniture as much as possible. As I was typing this out I heard a soft meow and looked back at my bedroom door and two little white paws were sticking out of the bottom. DAWWWWWWW! I'm such a sucker for that shit. I hate cats but those two little paws clawing at the ground makes my heart melt.
There are 2 of these cats, brothers I think, and they are that black and white spotted breed that happens to look like Hitler. Do you know what I'm talking about? This website actually calls them Kitlers. Haha. Get it? Ah, hilariously racistly cute. Anyway, one of them has a thicker black spot under his nose so I call him Groucho and the other one is skinnier and has a smaller black spot so I call him Hitler. He's also the meaner of the two. A real asshole of a cat. I hope he commits suicide when he realizes Ms Kitty and her army of allies have him surrounded in Becky's room.
Want to hear a hilarious story about my hellacious experience with Delta Airlines? Of course you do! I'll try to keep it short.
So I had unfortunately scheduled my flight out of New York after Christmas for the day after that huge snowstorm hit. My mom's house got around 14 inches. NYC got a little over 20. It was insane. Not only this, but I booked with what I have experienced to be the worst airline possible.
First of all: In the morning when I found out that my flight had been cancelled, thanks to Delta.com, I tried to reschedule online-- This turned out to be impossible because the only options to choose from were that day and the next, both of which had no flights listed. So it says at the bottom if I'm experiencing trouble to just call them. I called and got this message: "Due to extreme weather conditions we cannot take your call right now. Please rebook with Delta.com" NO. NO. I cannot rebook with your dumb website because there are no options! Give me a human to talk to please! I mean the phone didn't even ring for Christ's sake. It went straight to this message. So around this time I called my Dad to complain. He told me all I could really do was keep calling until someone answered. But get THIS. My Dad calls me back and he says he had an agent on the phone I could talk to. So he patched me in and she rescheduled my flight for Thursday... I was supposed to leave on Monday but understood that everything was backed up because of this blizzard. But here's the kicker. I asked my Dad how he even got the phone to ring. He told me he used my step mother's Delta Sky Mile's number with some other phone number service they offer. So basically unless you are a Sky Mile's member... DON'T mess with Delta. I'd still be in New York right now calling their damn phone line that doesn't ring like all the regular Joe Schmoes.
Secondly: Once I got tot he airport, for some stupid reason I got super excited to see on my self check-in screen that they would check my bag for free. Flying with other airlines they charge $25 for each bag. That's $50 round trip. So I only ever pack a carry on because I'm poor. No... Not because I'm poor, but because I don't want to spend my money on something so silly. These airlines suck enough money out of us already. So anyway, yeah, got excited. so I clicked the button and rejoiced that I wouldn't have to lug my bag around while making my connection in Detroit. Let me say this though, my pessimism unfortunately didn't get the best of me. As I punched the screen I thought to myself, "What if I make it there and my bag doesn't?" Wouldn't you guess that's EXACTLY what happened? That's right. After a long day of sitting on tarmacs, burning jet fuel because we're overweight restrictions, getting a splitting headache from the lack of food I ate the entire day, I get to Midway and everyone from my flight picks up their shit at baggage claim and I stand there like a sad sack of buffoon waiting... waiting... waiting. I almost cried when the lady behind the baggage service desk told me I could wait for an hour and a half if I wanted. To give her some credit, she was really pleasant and helpful. I was the one being the crab apple. So yeah, I decided to have them deliver it to me because all I wanted to do was get home and eat and sleep. I had this plan to stop at 7-11 on the walk from the train and get a couple of taquitos so I could eat as I walked so I didn't lose anytime on my schedule to pass the hell out. So the guy calls me hours later, tells me he's going to deliver my bag. This was at 9:20pm. I was out at Susan's. When I came home after midnight, my bag still wasn't there. I decided that because my head was still throbbing from the original headache that I would worry about this in the morning. Well, wouldn't you know it? Morning came (My birthday) and my bag was there... SOAKED. I mean SOPPING WET. Everything. Wet and smelly from sitting in a bag all night. Not only that but there's disgusting black skid marks all over my purple duffel, it looks completely ruined to tell you the truth. Not something that throwing it in a washing machine could fix.
Oh. And what about the taquitos? Well, I bought four, shoved three in my mouth and dropped the last one in a puddle. WAY TO GO CAROL!
So for those reasons I will never give Delta my money again.
Okay. Complaining is done. Time to start 2011 off right... by continuing this day long binge of food and mimosas.
Peace and love my babies,
Carol
Who I feel really bad for are all those people born on the 1st of January. Who wants to go out drinking on national hangover day? Your birthday is completely steamrolled by the celebration of my birthday. So suck on that. (I actually have a friend, Johnny, who was born on the 1st. He just hosts a hungover pizza party every year at his place. I say that's pretty cool)
So here we are. A new year. The year of the rabbit. That's me! That means this year is going to be my year. I can feel it. As we toasted our champagne before the party last night, my roommates and I each went around and summed up our 2010 experience for each other. All I could really remember of 2010 was that I
1.) Broke my foot
2.) Graduated from college
3.) Moved to Chicago
Of course those are the most nuttiest of shells... But truly, the year kind of just flew right past me. If feels like it was last week that I hung that temporary handicap placard on my rearview mirror and hobbled across campus to Audition Technique at 8 in the God damn morning.
It's not to say that 2010 flew past me and was a complete wash. I definitely think the last half of the year, the moving to Chicago part, was an eye opening experience. I figured out how to be an adult and start my career and even put a few building blocks in place. I know I have more structural work to get done, but I laid a pretty good framework thus far. I am proud of myself.
Aw... Interjection time: We are currently cat sitting for our downstairs neighbor while she's out of town. I am, for the most part, allergic to cats so I like to keep them out of my room and off of my furniture as much as possible. As I was typing this out I heard a soft meow and looked back at my bedroom door and two little white paws were sticking out of the bottom. DAWWWWWWW! I'm such a sucker for that shit. I hate cats but those two little paws clawing at the ground makes my heart melt.
There are 2 of these cats, brothers I think, and they are that black and white spotted breed that happens to look like Hitler. Do you know what I'm talking about? This website actually calls them Kitlers. Haha. Get it? Ah, hilariously racistly cute. Anyway, one of them has a thicker black spot under his nose so I call him Groucho and the other one is skinnier and has a smaller black spot so I call him Hitler. He's also the meaner of the two. A real asshole of a cat. I hope he commits suicide when he realizes Ms Kitty and her army of allies have him surrounded in Becky's room.
Want to hear a hilarious story about my hellacious experience with Delta Airlines? Of course you do! I'll try to keep it short.
So I had unfortunately scheduled my flight out of New York after Christmas for the day after that huge snowstorm hit. My mom's house got around 14 inches. NYC got a little over 20. It was insane. Not only this, but I booked with what I have experienced to be the worst airline possible.
First of all: In the morning when I found out that my flight had been cancelled, thanks to Delta.com, I tried to reschedule online-- This turned out to be impossible because the only options to choose from were that day and the next, both of which had no flights listed. So it says at the bottom if I'm experiencing trouble to just call them. I called and got this message: "Due to extreme weather conditions we cannot take your call right now. Please rebook with Delta.com" NO. NO. I cannot rebook with your dumb website because there are no options! Give me a human to talk to please! I mean the phone didn't even ring for Christ's sake. It went straight to this message. So around this time I called my Dad to complain. He told me all I could really do was keep calling until someone answered. But get THIS. My Dad calls me back and he says he had an agent on the phone I could talk to. So he patched me in and she rescheduled my flight for Thursday... I was supposed to leave on Monday but understood that everything was backed up because of this blizzard. But here's the kicker. I asked my Dad how he even got the phone to ring. He told me he used my step mother's Delta Sky Mile's number with some other phone number service they offer. So basically unless you are a Sky Mile's member... DON'T mess with Delta. I'd still be in New York right now calling their damn phone line that doesn't ring like all the regular Joe Schmoes.
Secondly: Once I got tot he airport, for some stupid reason I got super excited to see on my self check-in screen that they would check my bag for free. Flying with other airlines they charge $25 for each bag. That's $50 round trip. So I only ever pack a carry on because I'm poor. No... Not because I'm poor, but because I don't want to spend my money on something so silly. These airlines suck enough money out of us already. So anyway, yeah, got excited. so I clicked the button and rejoiced that I wouldn't have to lug my bag around while making my connection in Detroit. Let me say this though, my pessimism unfortunately didn't get the best of me. As I punched the screen I thought to myself, "What if I make it there and my bag doesn't?" Wouldn't you guess that's EXACTLY what happened? That's right. After a long day of sitting on tarmacs, burning jet fuel because we're overweight restrictions, getting a splitting headache from the lack of food I ate the entire day, I get to Midway and everyone from my flight picks up their shit at baggage claim and I stand there like a sad sack of buffoon waiting... waiting... waiting. I almost cried when the lady behind the baggage service desk told me I could wait for an hour and a half if I wanted. To give her some credit, she was really pleasant and helpful. I was the one being the crab apple. So yeah, I decided to have them deliver it to me because all I wanted to do was get home and eat and sleep. I had this plan to stop at 7-11 on the walk from the train and get a couple of taquitos so I could eat as I walked so I didn't lose anytime on my schedule to pass the hell out. So the guy calls me hours later, tells me he's going to deliver my bag. This was at 9:20pm. I was out at Susan's. When I came home after midnight, my bag still wasn't there. I decided that because my head was still throbbing from the original headache that I would worry about this in the morning. Well, wouldn't you know it? Morning came (My birthday) and my bag was there... SOAKED. I mean SOPPING WET. Everything. Wet and smelly from sitting in a bag all night. Not only that but there's disgusting black skid marks all over my purple duffel, it looks completely ruined to tell you the truth. Not something that throwing it in a washing machine could fix.
Oh. And what about the taquitos? Well, I bought four, shoved three in my mouth and dropped the last one in a puddle. WAY TO GO CAROL!
So for those reasons I will never give Delta my money again.
Okay. Complaining is done. Time to start 2011 off right... by continuing this day long binge of food and mimosas.
Peace and love my babies,
Carol
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Welcome to Birthday month: Nicole, Jesus, and Me!
As I write to you, the cat's tail is whipping my exposed plumber's crack. She must think it's funny.
I think I woke up in the twilight zone today. I just feel all ass backwards and upside down. Maybe it's because today's the first day I haven't been called into work. Oh joy of joys... Shit. Need a new job.
It literally blew my night when I got that e-mail.
I hope you know that yesterday I started a journey back to Chicago at 10am and did not step foot inside my own apartment until 7:30pm.
Step 1: Mom drove me to the Poughkeepsie Amtrak station (.5 hours)
Step 2: Got on Amtrak to New York City (1.5 hours)
Step 3: Got into Penn Station, had to then navigate myself to the corner of 33rd and 7th Ave (.5 hours)
Step 3: Got in a van that I thought was going to LaGuardia
Step 4: Ended up at Grand Central station (20 minutes)
Step 5: Got on bus to LaGuardia (.5 hours)
Step 6: Got my ticket, went through ridiculous New York security lines, and waited for a delayed plane (1.5 hours)
Step 7: Sat on plane for an additional 30 minutes waiting... (30 minutes...)
Step 8: Flew to Chicago (2 hours), landed in O'Hare... waited some more (.5 hours)
Step 9: Got on the blue line (.5 hours)
Step 10: Got off the blue line and on the Belmont bus (.5 hours)
Step 11: Noticed it was snowing... Walked down the block to Art of Pizza and picked up 2 slices and an iced tea (15 minutes)
Step 12: Opened the doors to my apartment where BECKY was preparing a dinner for meeeeeeeeeeeeee! And NICOLE and RYAN were there to listen about my journey and give me wine and p-funks. (now 7:30 pm)
Ah, and Steps 13-20 are just eating, laughing, hanging out, and watching the rough cut of a movie we filmed this summer. I have to admit, until now I have never missed Richmond more. Watching my friends sweat bullets, drink 40's, ride bikes, and break things made me want to go back to RVA and just hanggg OUT. This summer was good. Speaking of summer, WHERE DID YOU GO? There's snow on the ground and more falling today.
Just realized I have no clever way to end this. SOMEONE HIRE ME. Goodbye.
I think I woke up in the twilight zone today. I just feel all ass backwards and upside down. Maybe it's because today's the first day I haven't been called into work. Oh joy of joys... Shit. Need a new job.
It literally blew my night when I got that e-mail.
I hope you know that yesterday I started a journey back to Chicago at 10am and did not step foot inside my own apartment until 7:30pm.
Step 1: Mom drove me to the Poughkeepsie Amtrak station (.5 hours)
Step 2: Got on Amtrak to New York City (1.5 hours)
Step 3: Got into Penn Station, had to then navigate myself to the corner of 33rd and 7th Ave (.5 hours)
Step 3: Got in a van that I thought was going to LaGuardia
Step 4: Ended up at Grand Central station (20 minutes)
Step 5: Got on bus to LaGuardia (.5 hours)
Step 6: Got my ticket, went through ridiculous New York security lines, and waited for a delayed plane (1.5 hours)
Step 7: Sat on plane for an additional 30 minutes waiting... (30 minutes...)
Step 8: Flew to Chicago (2 hours), landed in O'Hare... waited some more (.5 hours)
Step 9: Got on the blue line (.5 hours)
Step 10: Got off the blue line and on the Belmont bus (.5 hours)
Step 11: Noticed it was snowing... Walked down the block to Art of Pizza and picked up 2 slices and an iced tea (15 minutes)
Step 12: Opened the doors to my apartment where BECKY was preparing a dinner for meeeeeeeeeeeeee! And NICOLE and RYAN were there to listen about my journey and give me wine and p-funks. (now 7:30 pm)
Ah, and Steps 13-20 are just eating, laughing, hanging out, and watching the rough cut of a movie we filmed this summer. I have to admit, until now I have never missed Richmond more. Watching my friends sweat bullets, drink 40's, ride bikes, and break things made me want to go back to RVA and just hanggg OUT. This summer was good. Speaking of summer, WHERE DID YOU GO? There's snow on the ground and more falling today.
Just realized I have no clever way to end this. SOMEONE HIRE ME. Goodbye.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thanksgivvy
Hey Blog,
Happy Thanksgiving.
My Pop pop died yesterday morning. I spent all day yesterday grieving, sleeping, crying, sleeping some more, and putting up a Christmas tree. I am feeling less crazy today. My mom was fortunate enough to be with him when he took his last breath. She told him his parents were waiting for him, and that made me feel better.
The funeral is not until Saturday, so I am spending Thanksgiving here in Chicago surrounded by good friends and food. I am honored because my grandmother asked me to read a passage during the service. My brother and I will both be doing that. It almost reminds me of my grandfather's birthday back in 2001. We surprised him at church. My brother and I processed in holding the torches and he was completely blown away. Yeah, I was a big churchy kid growing up. Served on the altar as an acolyte and loved it.
Anyway, the service will be special. It will be in New York in the church my parents were married in and I was baptized in. It's church my grandmother still serves on the altar guild for. All of my family will be there and I am excited to be "home".
I am very content. Sitting here on the futon, Christmas tree lit up, sipping a glass of wine with Kait and Ryan, Hawks on in the background (side note, I just mistyped the last word as Bachround. Is that when Bach is playing music in the background? Maybe. Was that a terrible attempt at a joke? Most definitely). Just made a peach and berry pie I am freezing until tomorrow. Kait just put on some Coheed-- Haha, feeling nostalgic. Nicole and Eric are on the way home with Ian's special this month, Thanksgiving pizza!!! That's turkey, gravy, stuffing, and I think mashed potatoes. On a pizza. Can't wait.
They're here now. So I'm going to stuff my face tonight and then fast for the rest of the day tomorrow.
Quickly just wanted to say
Eric just asked me to type a paragraph about him... Not happening.
I forgot to mention last night my roommates gave me daises and we went out for Mexican. Queso, Salsa, Chimichangas, and Margaritas! It was delicious and the perfect remedy to a terrible no good very bad day.
I told the ladies for my birthday I wanted to get mani pedis at this place that also massages you. Nicole then said "Where?" and I said, "This place on Southport" she then replied, "No... Where do they massage you?"
Okay, Blog... Anyway. It's freaking cold here. And it's supposed to snow tomorrow. I hope so.
I'll talk to you after I come back from New York.
Love you like a half sister.
Happy Thanksgiving.
My Pop pop died yesterday morning. I spent all day yesterday grieving, sleeping, crying, sleeping some more, and putting up a Christmas tree. I am feeling less crazy today. My mom was fortunate enough to be with him when he took his last breath. She told him his parents were waiting for him, and that made me feel better.
The funeral is not until Saturday, so I am spending Thanksgiving here in Chicago surrounded by good friends and food. I am honored because my grandmother asked me to read a passage during the service. My brother and I will both be doing that. It almost reminds me of my grandfather's birthday back in 2001. We surprised him at church. My brother and I processed in holding the torches and he was completely blown away. Yeah, I was a big churchy kid growing up. Served on the altar as an acolyte and loved it.
Anyway, the service will be special. It will be in New York in the church my parents were married in and I was baptized in. It's church my grandmother still serves on the altar guild for. All of my family will be there and I am excited to be "home".
I am very content. Sitting here on the futon, Christmas tree lit up, sipping a glass of wine with Kait and Ryan, Hawks on in the background (side note, I just mistyped the last word as Bachround. Is that when Bach is playing music in the background? Maybe. Was that a terrible attempt at a joke? Most definitely). Just made a peach and berry pie I am freezing until tomorrow. Kait just put on some Coheed-- Haha, feeling nostalgic. Nicole and Eric are on the way home with Ian's special this month, Thanksgiving pizza!!! That's turkey, gravy, stuffing, and I think mashed potatoes. On a pizza. Can't wait.
They're here now. So I'm going to stuff my face tonight and then fast for the rest of the day tomorrow.
Quickly just wanted to say
Eric just asked me to type a paragraph about him... Not happening.
I forgot to mention last night my roommates gave me daises and we went out for Mexican. Queso, Salsa, Chimichangas, and Margaritas! It was delicious and the perfect remedy to a terrible no good very bad day.
I told the ladies for my birthday I wanted to get mani pedis at this place that also massages you. Nicole then said "Where?" and I said, "This place on Southport" she then replied, "No... Where do they massage you?"
Okay, Blog... Anyway. It's freaking cold here. And it's supposed to snow tomorrow. I hope so.
I'll talk to you after I come back from New York.
Love you like a half sister.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Sick and stupid
First of all, this post is over two weeks old when I wrote it. I guess I never posted it... So here it is, whoever wants to waste a good 10 minutes of their time, I promise by the end of this you'll be saying, "Dang, she stupid."
Okay, so I'm sick and stupid and here's why:
Woke up this morning coughing up little bits of lung and called my step mom for help. She told me I could call this service provided by my temporary insurance policy that allows me to talk to a doctor, tell him my symptoms, and have a prescription be phoned into the pharmacy. I said, "What is this Europe?" Seriously, if that's not wave of the future, I don't know what is. So awesome. So anyway, my doctor was a real delight, great and easy to talk to. He prescribed me some antibiotics for a sinus infection. Great. So my step mom reminds me to print off my new drug card to bring into the pharmacy to pick up the prescription. Great. Oh wait... Shit. I've gone super long without replacing the black ink in my printer (Even so far as a few weeks ago I printed my resume off in a very dark navy blue. Say something! Ink ain't cheap!) I quickly resigned myself to the fact that I was a total dummy for putting off buying ink for this long and now I'm going to have to pay. So I put on all my gear; coat, hat, scarf, I get all bundled up and head out down the street to the Office Depot. The worst part about this experience, let me just say, the Office Depot is conveniently situated right next to the pahrmacy I have to go to... Not like I can just pick my prescription up though after I buy the ink-- I still have to go home and print off the drug card, remember? My stupid ass... I literally hate myself for not getting to this printer sooner, typical me. So two trips, here we go...
So I'm crossing the parking lot, fighting to breathe in the harsh 45 degree air, and literally as the two sliding doors open on me I stop and think "Son of a... Did I even CHECK to see the specific TYPE of ink I need?" No. The short answer is no. I most certainly did not.
So I'm sick and stupid. I bought what I thought I needed and thank GOD, I got the right one. The sales clerk had a nice laugh at my expense, though.
So I got home, loaded up the printer, printed the drug card, and headed BACK OUT to the Jewel to get this medicine. Of course, OF COURSE the pharmacist then tells me I printed the wrong card. So then he tells me I have to pay full price, print the right card and bring it back for reimbursement.
Which I never did.
Sick and stupid, sick and stupid.
Okay, so I'm sick and stupid and here's why:
Woke up this morning coughing up little bits of lung and called my step mom for help. She told me I could call this service provided by my temporary insurance policy that allows me to talk to a doctor, tell him my symptoms, and have a prescription be phoned into the pharmacy. I said, "What is this Europe?" Seriously, if that's not wave of the future, I don't know what is. So awesome. So anyway, my doctor was a real delight, great and easy to talk to. He prescribed me some antibiotics for a sinus infection. Great. So my step mom reminds me to print off my new drug card to bring into the pharmacy to pick up the prescription. Great. Oh wait... Shit. I've gone super long without replacing the black ink in my printer (Even so far as a few weeks ago I printed my resume off in a very dark navy blue. Say something! Ink ain't cheap!) I quickly resigned myself to the fact that I was a total dummy for putting off buying ink for this long and now I'm going to have to pay. So I put on all my gear; coat, hat, scarf, I get all bundled up and head out down the street to the Office Depot. The worst part about this experience, let me just say, the Office Depot is conveniently situated right next to the pahrmacy I have to go to... Not like I can just pick my prescription up though after I buy the ink-- I still have to go home and print off the drug card, remember? My stupid ass... I literally hate myself for not getting to this printer sooner, typical me. So two trips, here we go...
So I'm crossing the parking lot, fighting to breathe in the harsh 45 degree air, and literally as the two sliding doors open on me I stop and think "Son of a... Did I even CHECK to see the specific TYPE of ink I need?" No. The short answer is no. I most certainly did not.
So I'm sick and stupid. I bought what I thought I needed and thank GOD, I got the right one. The sales clerk had a nice laugh at my expense, though.
So I got home, loaded up the printer, printed the drug card, and headed BACK OUT to the Jewel to get this medicine. Of course, OF COURSE the pharmacist then tells me I printed the wrong card. So then he tells me I have to pay full price, print the right card and bring it back for reimbursement.
Which I never did.
Sick and stupid, sick and stupid.
Carol and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week
It's been a rough a week. I'm struggling to find the humor, couldn't find it, so Susan and I saw the free show at iO last night. A human slip and slide brought me to tears. That was great. I can't wait to get through today and go to class tomorrow.
I'm trying to stay strong for my brother who was basically just raped in court yesterday. I feel like America has an easier time pointing the finger at the "neglectful father" which angers me so much I could punch a candyless pinata! My brother is the best father I can think of. I'm not exaggerating. I honestly figured, when I first heard he would be having a child, he'd have no clue how to take care of a little girl. But he's been taking care of me, his little sis, now for almost 23 years, for my whole life. He's had a lot of practice and so I have to give him some credit. I love my brother and couldn't be more proud of the maturity he's displaying while going through this.
It's extremely tough for me to see the strongest man in my life go through this. I don't know anyone tougher, wiser, and funnier than my Poppie. I was so touched to hear that when they brought him in and put the oxygen mask on him he looked up at my grandmother and asked if he was dying. She looked down at him and said, "You're not going anywhere without me!" That's true love. I only hope when I am urinating myself and can't even bring a spoon to my mouth, the love of my life will still be by my side.
My only fear is that by the time I get to my grandparents house for Christmas, it'll be too late. I have to see my Poppie again, I miss him too much. I've decided on getting a Whip-poor-will tattoo (My mom's going to kill me if she's reading this). My grandparent's lake house in the Adirondacks was named after the bird, and I go back to that special place in my mind when I think about them.
So, needless to say, a lot of SHIT is going on. More than I even mentioned-- but a girl can only complain so much in one blog post, right?
Update: Poppie is back in the nursing home, isn't on any sort of IV fluids or feeding tube because of their policies about that. They are continuing to give him his pills and feed him but if he chokes on anything, that's it. He's DNR, do not resusitate. He's asked for that.
I'm trying to stay strong for my brother who was basically just raped in court yesterday. I feel like America has an easier time pointing the finger at the "neglectful father" which angers me so much I could punch a candyless pinata! My brother is the best father I can think of. I'm not exaggerating. I honestly figured, when I first heard he would be having a child, he'd have no clue how to take care of a little girl. But he's been taking care of me, his little sis, now for almost 23 years, for my whole life. He's had a lot of practice and so I have to give him some credit. I love my brother and couldn't be more proud of the maturity he's displaying while going through this.
Another big weight on my mind is my grandfather. He's currently in the hospital with pneumonia. The doctor says while he was being fed in the nursing home, he must have aspirated some food that caused the infection. The antibiotics seem to be working now, but the bad news is he still can't feed himself properly so they're considering a feeding tube. That's great and all, but if he has the feeding tube, he won't be allowed to go back to the nursing home. My mom says she thinks this is the end. I don't want to believe it.
It's extremely tough for me to see the strongest man in my life go through this. I don't know anyone tougher, wiser, and funnier than my Poppie. I was so touched to hear that when they brought him in and put the oxygen mask on him he looked up at my grandmother and asked if he was dying. She looked down at him and said, "You're not going anywhere without me!" That's true love. I only hope when I am urinating myself and can't even bring a spoon to my mouth, the love of my life will still be by my side. My only fear is that by the time I get to my grandparents house for Christmas, it'll be too late. I have to see my Poppie again, I miss him too much. I've decided on getting a Whip-poor-will tattoo (My mom's going to kill me if she's reading this). My grandparent's lake house in the Adirondacks was named after the bird, and I go back to that special place in my mind when I think about them.
So, needless to say, a lot of SHIT is going on. More than I even mentioned-- but a girl can only complain so much in one blog post, right?
Update: Poppie is back in the nursing home, isn't on any sort of IV fluids or feeding tube because of their policies about that. They are continuing to give him his pills and feed him but if he chokes on anything, that's it. He's DNR, do not resusitate. He's asked for that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)