Ex-boyfriend

Matt: you know how I can tell you're feeling better despite the tiredness?
Prince Abubu: I'm just as bitchy as normal?
Matt: I was gonna go with the sarcastic streak is back in full swing
Prince Abubu: Same thing.
Matt: nah, bitchy implies real malice behind it. which at least I hope isn't true
Prince Abubu: If there were malice, you'd know. Bahaha.
Matt: eep
Prince Abubu: exactly.
Prince Abubu: I don't think it would really matter either way, anyway
Matt: no?
Prince Abubu: Nah.
Matt: frick, that was so a fishing "no?"
Prince Abubu: Fishing for what?
Matt: and explanation of why it woudln't mater
Prince Abubu: Malice isn't effective against someone with none of your classes and a different social circle. Therefore, it wouldn't matter! :D
Matt: mm, this is indeed true
Prince Abubu: which is why I thought it was obvious and required no explanation
Matt: remember who you're talking to. obvious to everyone else is about the last thing on my mind
Prince Abubu: riiiight. Forgot.
Matt: and honestly? I'm still a little paranoid that you might be pissed/angry at me. I can't say for sure I wouldn't be =(
Prince Abubu: Okay, I do mean this in the best possible way, but I think your paranoia is a little egotistical.

I have new respect for my Asian Women and Religion professor

It never crossed my mind that my being unable to write would disrupt an entire class.

Today, while we were in the middle of a discussion, a girl on the other end of the classroom interrupted the professor and turned to me.
"What could you possibly be typing that is more important than this poem? I can't even think!"

Everyone in the class turns and stares. The professor blinks a few times.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"She has been typing nonstop the entire hour, and it is driving me insane!"

I realize I am the only person in the room with a laptop. "I'm sorry, but if you're talking about me, I have to type to take notes. I can't write."
"I can hear you typing from all the way over here."
The professor looks at her, bemused. "I didn't even notice it. And you're sitting about as far away from her as you possibly could."

I'm pretty upset by this point because I don't appreciate having my health problems pointed out to an entire class of strangers, so I get up to leave. I'm also on the verge of tears.

The professor follows me out and makes sure I'm not mad at her. I tell her I need a minute to calm down and that I understand she is on my side. I head for the bathroom to get myself back together, and she returns to class.

According to Madeline, everyone in the class was either confused or glaring at the girl who called me out. She tells her that I have a disability, and the girl responds "well, how was I supposed to know?"

Well, for one, you could not assume. :/

One of the other girls says "I'd rather be bothered by typing than people who interrupt class with thoughtless outbursts."

The professor returns to the class at this point, looks at the girl, and says "you really shouldn't do things like that." She spends the rest of the class on the verge of tears.

---

Now that I am calmer, I feel really bad for her. Yes, she shouldn't have done that. It would have been more appropriate for her to talk to the professor about it after class. However, she just alienated herself from every other girl in the room, and that is not going to make a discussion-based class easy for her.

So, I sent her an e-mail telling her I wasn't holding a grudge. She responded with a four-paragraph apology.

Everyone in the class is now acting like my best friend.

Needless to say, I wanted to spend the rest of the day in bed. Instead, I am at work.

He's lucky I don't file assault charges.

I went home from work after two hours yesterday because my coworker almost dislocated my shoulder.

That's right. Scooby has injured me.

We had three patrol people on that night, but there are only two sets of allen wrenches to unlock the doors. I jokingly told Scooby to give me his set and take the keys. When he said no, I reached for them half-heartedly...And he fucking grabs my arm, locks my elbow, and twists. I drop down to prevent him from pulling my arm out of its freaking socket, hitting a chair as I go. He doesn't let go until I hit him with my free hand.

Bossman Extreme had to file a report with Big Boss, who called me at 9AM to make sure I was okay. He says to be sure and let him know if I need medical care, and asked me to write a statement detailing what occured. He says that "at a minimum," he wants an account on file.

This is the second on-the-job injury he has been involved in. The first time he let two students onto the roof of a campus building, which led to Bossman Extreme getting his finger broken when a custodian saw them and called us in. (Side note: NEVER tell a campus security guard that you are not a student if you really are. It always ends badly for you.) He didn't get fired for that one simply because someone in StuDev pulled strings.

Well, hopefully they fucking fire you this time. I don't care if it was an "accident." You touched me, and you deprived me of six hours of pay. Even if they don't fire you, this event has caused everyone to like you even less. Half the student staff knows about it already (mostly because half the student staff lives with my dispatcher), and the general consensus is that you're absolutely worthless, and an idiot to boot. Honestly. Who the hell does that to a coworker? In what dark, slimy realm of existence is that considered well-rounded behavior?

My shoulder is killing me. It's tender to the touch, and keeps popping when I move it. I have a doctor's appointment on Tuesday, so if it still hurts I'll have him look at it.

If it is badly injured, it doesn't bode well for Scooby's future, that's for sure.

This weekend has been full of me taking deep breaths and repeating "I am not pissed off, I am not pissed off, I am not pissed off" over and over again.

Friday I get an e-mail from Tom asking me to cover his shift. I say I'd take half of it and to tell me what hours our boss said would be better. Fourteen hours later I have not heard from him, so I assume his shift has been covered, and send him another e-mail essentially telling him to fuck off.

Saturday night I get a call from work going "Where are you? Tom said you would cover his shift." "Well, Tom lied." I talked to the bosspeople about it, and since I didn't sign the shift change form, I can't be held accountable for what happened.

So I head out for a while. When I get back home at 1ish, the house smells like someone rolled in yeast and then rinsed in wine. I quiz Daryl and Matt, which causes me to discover that they have accidentally poured wine on our cable/DVR box.

Later, I find chocolate embedded in the rug of the Study Zone. The rug is mine.

While at work, the annoying stalker freshman keeps texting me. I have never responded to a single one of his messages, which makes me wonder why he still does it. Also, he never asked if I had a text plan before he sent the first one, which in my opinion is incredibly rude.

Two minutes ago, Matt and Daryl admitted that the wine glass actually BROKE when they ruined the DVR. The glass in question is also mine, and has sentimental value.

I am not pissed off. >.<

Hush, keep it down now

I am needing this break in more ways than I can comfortably explain. >.<

Our RCC is an evil dictator.

Last night we received an e-mail from our RCC. Apparently on Wednesday she is "invading" all our houses to look for fire hazards. This means she is going to be looking for candles, incense, lighters, cords, etc near heaters and stuff. She is going to be walking through our houses and bedrooms and inspecting them for stuff. I was mad, but not nearly as mad as I am right now.

Apparently she's also looking for SUB dishes. Which means that she's not just going to be looking around our house, but going through our cabinets. And if she goes through our cabinets for dishes that aren't hers, is she also going to look through our drawers for candles and incense? That is a terrible violation of privacy. If she can smell incense or candles, she MIGHT be within her rights as an RCC to check our drawers, but while she's looking for fire hazards? I think not. As I told her in a reply e-mail: "I'm not sure why you'll be looking through our cabinets for fire hazards, since heaters and cords are rarely stored within. We use all my personal dishes in our house, but the principle still bothers me."


It's bad enough that we'll have to find a place to stash the rat on Wednesday. It's bad enough that I have to put the cabinets doors back on our bookshelves in the Study Zone. Now we also have to remove anything we think she won't like FROM OUR HOUSE?

Fuck that. She told us to take down any sarongs hanging over lights. She has one IN HER FUCKING LIVING ROOM. Why should we play by the rules if she doesn't?

I want to go grab a Guy Fawkes mask and wear it when she is doing her inspection on Wednesday. Clearly we no longer have the right to private property. Unfortunately, if we want our Theme House renewed, we also have no means of rebellion.

"Fools!" said I, "ye do not know"...

It's been a week since Rose and I had our last falling out. I called and texted her on Saturday, and she hasn't replied. So I'm calling it quits. It's her problem, and she needs to come to grips with it. I'm not weak-spined enough to coddle her and beg her back into a good mood anymore. That shit ended in high school.

I just hate it. I miss her when I'm not talking to her, but it's getting to the point where I think my life might be easier without her constantly sending me into emotional highs and lows.

It's odd, tho. I think we have some sort of karmic bond that keeps drawing us together. I keep giving up on her, and then all of the sudden we're back in each other's lives. It really bothers me, because I can never tell if I am doing the right thing.

I wish I could explain it better than that. Sometimes I think we'll never be able to get away from each other. When we were in high school, we used to joke that we'd end up trying to kill each other and end up hospitalized. Then there would be some sort of mix-up and they'd put us in the same room, and we'd be dragging ourselves across the floor towards each other in an attempt to finish the job.

I never thought it would end that way emotionally, tho.

Dear World: Fuck you and your sense of timing

You were right if you sensed coldness and a little bit of anger in response to the text message you sent me tonight. Some of it is from having an exam tomorrow, being tired from work tonight, etc. But most of it is, in fact, what it seems.

Fuck you. You haven't spoken to me since the middle of my Winter Break, after you knew for a fact I was angry at you. But you didn't care. And I understand that. You've never really given a fuck about anything, have you?

You texted me at 2:30. I'll bet you were drunk. This isn't you swallowing your pride and making amends; this is you pretending that nothing happened and assuming that I will do the same. And I say screw that. I know exactly what you're doing. You're bored, and you want to toy with me some more.

I am not a man, and I'm not your little bitch. So when you call me tomorrow, you had better fucking prove me wrong about you. I am not letting you do this to me anymore.

Gah. I was so sure I'd never talk to you again, too. I'm still not sure how I feel about it either way. Except for the deep sense of anger that is going to keep me awake tonight.

This is apparently a DRAMABOMB waiting to happen.

I posted about some of the more idiotic guys I've dealt with on the job on Customers_Suck, and have gotten some interesting replies.

Me being angry that guys are calling me "honey" and asking if I'll be okay isn't because I don't appreciate being undermined when I'm on the job, oh no: It's because I'm a feminist.

And guys aren't doing crap like that because they're assholes; It's a basic biological instinct.

But if guys do it to women mechanics or women computer specialists, it's chavanism.

I work in a place where I NEED to be taken seriously in order to do my job. It has nothing to do with sexism. It's simply a fact.

So in short, LJ? Fuck you.

Gossiping hens!

Unc is pissing me off. We've been here for two days and seen him for less than five minutes. He canceled all the plans we had made today, and then got angry that I was upst about it. Yay sailing. - -;

Also, apparently there are still a lot of Missouri people who still read my blog. This bothers me for two reasons:
1) None of them have spoken to me in over a year. So why do they even care? (Besides gossip, of course, which is how I found out about this in the first place.)
2) I changed my blog address to keep a stalker away. The fact that they found this anyway make me wonder about the effectiveness of the change...
3) "Fuck off already." -Maddo

Needless to say, I'm in a pretty bad mood, and this damned keyboard isn't really helping. (*snerk*-Maddo) So I'm going to curl my hair in a ridiculous fashion, use my new honey and lotion, and vindictively order the bellpeople to find my high heels. Yep, they're in the car. Go fetch.

Best Thai food in Seattle, you say? Courtesy of my uncle, even? Oh, ESPECIALLY.

Jolly good.

Better and Better

A word to the wise:

I realise that this is my first shift with both of you, coworker-people. However, I'd like to think the signs of pure, eye-bloodying rage are so universal that the two of you would know when to quit. I've been proven wrong quite frequently in my assumptions this week, however, so I suppose I shall just have to add this one to the pile.

No, he's not gay, and I don't care what his dumb bitch of an ex has told you. I've known him for two years, and she dated him for a matter of weeks. Which one of us knows him better? No, I don't care what you've "heard," because trust me, it's probably a house joke that you are far too incompetent to wrap your mind around.

"No, no, it's fine if he is." Good for you and your open-mindedness. Really, I applaud you. Now if only you would apply that to the difference between truth and vicious gossip and save my nerves some strain.

"Dude, he totally is. I have a source." Yeah? I'm his fucking HOUSEMATE. I've seen what he has pinned up in his room, but you know what? You're both idiots, and I'm not dignifying either of you with an argument over this. So I'm going to spend the next ten minutes in the kitchen taking deep breaths and trying to remove my nails from the palms of my hands. kthx.

This is the last time I work with either of these people, so help me.

Start over

This weekend has been the oddest combination of fantastic and terrible.

Karma Slave

Well, the ex seems to have decided to stop talking to me completely. I'm not really all that surprised, but I do have to say it makes me kind of sad. I am used to it, tho. I haven't had a single relationship end with me on speakng terms with the other person. Doesn't make it any less sucky, but at least I know how to deal with it by now. And, well... I won't have any guilt for moving on. He no longer has any ties to me at all, so I can't hurt him.

That makes a lot of people I have stopped communicating with this month. My uncle, him, Anna, and a couple of other people from Saint Louis. Nothing is tying me down anymore, so Tacoma no longer has to battle to be my home.

It doesn't really bother me, though. I'm not as sad as I expected I would be, which is a good thing, because if I were sad I'd become bitter about the friendships and relationships that I've lost. At least this way I can move on with no qualms and keep the good memories.

Actually, I feel kind of free. ^^;

I'm not even fucking dating you...

...which is why you've had the opportunity to stand me up four times. Because trust me, if I could break up with you, I would. I might frigging try, anyway.

I went to bed at 8AM, bitch. 8 fucking AM. And dragged my ass out of bed at 10:30 so I could shower, become presentable, and drive to pick you up. As I am heading out the door, I check my phone, which is what I should have done before even BOTHERING, because I know better than to trust anything we plan out is actually going to happen at this point. There's a text message from 1:30 AM.

"Agh, I just went to bed. Have to cancel."

FUCK YOU. And if you call me, prepare to face my exhausted rage, you fucking selfish bitch, because I was already angry at you. Now I'm pretty sure I fucking hate you and the air you breathe. So please. Stay asleep and don't even bother. You see me for like one week out of the entire year. How hard would it have been? Not worth the effort, evidently, which is why I feel dumb for even waking up.

I can't even go back to bed now or my sleep schedule will be even more fucked. So now I have to sit around the house trying to find a way to stay awake that doesn't involve raging.

A.A. hates me by now.

So, today I canceled a plane flight for the second time. American Airlines hates me by now, I'm sure.

I'll be staying in Saint Louis for the rest of break. I'll still be back at Uni on the 14th to get settled in and ready for next semester.

Never saw it coming!

In honor of my test today, I braided my hair into pigtails. It worked. The test didn't have the heart to depress me. XD



However, this tactic does not seem to work against my Asian Art teacher, who today caused me to lose any lingering iota of respect I might have had for him. How?

Why, by being an ass!

I'm sure some of you have already heard about the paper fiasco. If so, you can skip this paragraph. So Saturday we had to go on the worst planned field trip from hell. I volunteered to drive under the impression that I would be reimbursed for gas. He failed to inform me that I would be paying for it out of my own pocket until the days before the trip when it was too late to back out. We get there late because we were the "coordinators", thus couldn't leave until everyone else had, but he had course not factored in enough time to get us all there on time. Then we had to walk around the museum and listen to him lecture. He wouldn't let us go off on our own and study. The final kicker, though, is that the four-page paper that is worth 1/5 of our grade, which we could CHOOSE A TOPIC FOR on Saturday....is due this FRIDAY. That's less than a week. We have to do research. We have other classes. We have...oh, I don't know...lives?

Everyone I've spoken to from the class thinks this is utter, unreasonable bullshit, so today I decided I'd bring it up in class and see if we could get him to push it back to Monday. He was asking us what we thought about the art pieces, so I waited until he asked if there were any general questions about the assignment. To me, "Is there anything else?" asked after no one answered his question "are there any other art pieces you'd like to ask about?"sounded like that kind of question.

So I raise my hand. "I was wondering if you could push the due date for the paper to Monday. (several people in the background murmur "YES!") I have several papers and a test this week, and I really could use a weekend to work on this." Especially since, you know, it's worth 1/5th of my fucking grade, you asshole.

So he glares at me and says "Right now we are talking about art, not extensions. That is a personal issue you and I can discuss in private." And then he moves on. Despite the fact that the class made it clear that they thought it was something we should talk about. Just like that time when he spelled bodhisattva budhissatva and then ignored us when we all tried to correct him. Just like that time when I told him the eight-spoked wheel symbolized the Dharma, and he was all "No, it symbolizes Karma." It's the SAME THING. Karma is an essential part of the Buddha's teachings. LEARN THE FUCKING SUBJECT, YOU OLD STUFFY BASTARD.

I spent the rest of the lecture glaring at him in a very mature manner. Oh yes. Listening to him talk about how the Buddha gets reincarnated, which is WRONG, and referring to Shiva as a she, which is WRONG, and talking about how Jesus was baptised by fire, which is WRONG, and I just wanted to STRANGLE HIM. No more katamaris this time. Give me some motherfucking ROPE.

And I know that I'm just making myself miserable by disliking him so much, but understanding that doesn't magically make you not care.

Fuck you, too.

M:"Don't tell me your high school colors were black and gold."
S: "No."
W:"Mine were black and orange, and our riva-"
M:"Where's your highschool's page?"
W:"What?"
M: "No, not you. Sarah, show me."

Number of People I Wanted to Receive Calls From Today: 7
Number Who Called: 0

This day wasn't supposed to suck. Which is part of why it is so sucky.

*gives up and goes to bed* In bed by midnight on a Friday. I had a better night life back in STL. As if I already didn't feel like a boring loser.

Well, I had a great day. We got accepted into the house, so next year I get a kitchen. And it's big and looks relatively nice, too.

Also got to hang out with a lot of cool people who I don't usually do things with, and we had a lot of fun.

Then we get back to the dorm and Matt leaves me and Sarah without even fucking saying a word, then comes back stoned and wondered why we were mad. We had plans. I don't care if he wants to cancel. That's fine. Just don't fucking walk off and not tell me.

A hearty fuck you to Basement Matt.