I type here for your (questionable) enjoyment a conversation I recently had on IM with “Bitty” and “Bo” (names changed to protect the ... well, you’ll see). This is not an exact transcription, as that would make no sense. Spelling and punctuation has been seriously cleaned up, however all of this was at one point typed or referenced from other conversations. Um, good luck.

WARNING! This post contains explicit (and kinda disgusting and personal) information. It is not suitable for children or my mom.

It started with three separate conversations, everyone talking to everyone else separately. Then we started to get into the cut and paste action:

Bitty: Bo and I are talking about why we think she judges us.

Anne: Hah! I'm talking to her about her ass. I win!

Bitty: She just told me that she was thinking about me when she put her tampon in... I think I win. Unfortunately.

Anne: ...

:: :::

Bo: Yeah, it’s been so hot today.

Anne: You ... told Bitty you were thinking about her when you put a tampon in?

Bo: That traitor!

Anne: Bo, I...

Bo: Ok, you know how she’s all obsessed with the word “twat?”

Anne: Yeah ...

Bo: It popped into my head, ok.

:: :::

Anne: So ... our band is the Ass Dimples

Bitty: No, we totally need to be “Brain Fart and the Ass Dimples”

Anne: Ok, but I want to be an Ass Dimple

Bitty: Me too

Anne: So who gets to be Brain Fart?

Bitty: Bo.

Anne: Of course. She can play the jug.

:: :::

Bo: I ... get to be what?

Bitty: Brain Fart. It’s been decided

Bo: Ah ... right.

:: :::

As the evening progressed we just gave up and got a chat room

Bitty: Well, this is better

Anne: Yeah, now you can’t report on what we say behind each other’s backs

Bo: Just to our faces

Bitty: Bo wanted me to announce that I am sex deprived

Anne: Well, join the club

Bitty: Oh, I’m the President, didn’t you know?

Bo: Aw, my poor little tampon fantasy.

Bitty: Ok, what!?

Bo: Come on, it wasn’t that long ago

Anne: Yeah and it was pretty damn memorable. You’re a little slow aren’t you Bitty?

Bitty: Anne’s a TWAT!

Bitty: TWAT, TWAT, TWAT!

Anne: Hey now, let’s not encourage Bo.

Bo: Great, now I’m going to think about both of you next time.

Anne: Y’all are just lucky I use pads.

Bo: I thought you just stole your roomie’s?

Anne: Shhh... I’m pretending I thought they were mine.

Bo: I’ve done that. “What do you mean this shampoo isn’t mine!?”

Bitty: Anne, TWAT

Bo: And this cheese

Anne: Whose was it?

Bo: What, the cheese?

Anne: No, the twat.

Bitty: What twat?

Anne: The cheese twat.

Bo: Well... I do like cheese.

Anne: I am now picturing a “twat” sculpted entirely out of velveeta. It’s an interesting mental picture.

Bitty: Oh. My. God. You guys, “Cheese Twat and the Ass Dimples.”

Anne: Oh god, it’s perfect.

Bitty: I still want to be an Ass Dimple

Anne: Me too

Bo: So I’m ... Cheese Twat?

Anne: Ladies and gentlemen... introducing Cheese Twat on the jug!

And with that I think we have a sentence never before typed by mankind.

I could go on. There was the section of the conversation where we all text orgasmed (everyone picked a different vowel oddly enough) and then there was the discussion about the prostitute smiley, but I think I’ve given you all enough to be scared of for one night.

 
A compendium of the more recent of life's little absurdities.

1) It's been so hot here. Recently I woke up after a long evening nap and I lay there in my dark room, waiting and waiting for a breeze to hit me. I was annoyed. "Where is that damn ceiling fan!?" I thought. "Why do I always forget to turn it on before I go to sleep?" Valid question, except for the fact that I do not, and have not for some time, have a ceiling fan. Sleepy brains do funny things.

2) The bands MusicMatch Jukebox thinks "match" Third Eye Blind. They include Nelly, Sum 41, Green Day, and Enya.

3) DVD cases: Everyone rants about how hard they are to open, what with all the stickers and everything. I concur, I practically need the jaws of life to open those things. Yesterday I opened my brand spanking new Love Actually, off with the shrink wrap, off with the stickers aaaand... wha? Still... won't ... open ... $@%#. It took about 3 minutes to discover that this DVD case had little snaps built into the sides that open, snaps that blend perfectly with the box for maximum frustration. Yes, they have made it harder to open the damn things. I suppose it is a good solution to all those recent incidents of DVDs flying out of their boxes and attacking unsuspecting passersby.

4) The musical choices of my next door neighbor, a man of eclectic tastes. About an hour ago I heard Linkin Park's "Nobody's Listening." Right now I'm getting snatches of what I'm pretty sure is "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria" from The Sound of Music. I don't know whether to be impressed or very, very scared.

5) The looks women give each other when they wear the same article of clothing. You should have seen the death glares I was getting off a girl in my History class today who was wearing my (mine! mine!) skirt. It was enough to curdle milk.

 
This Blog Is Moving!

Yes, that's right, moving. Update your bookmarks, this will be my last post at this URL, though the page will stay up as archives.

I have moved my little corner of the web over to Diaryland and done a complete redesign for many and varied reasons all discussed over in the new blog.

NEW URL = http://bryrrosea.diaryland.com/ , or just click here if you're real lazy.

It's the end of an era, a Blogger era, *sniff*. I'll miss it so...

Go on, you can leave now ... you're free!

 
P.S. Learn How To Drive!

A copy of the letter which will be left on the door of all the apartments in my complex tomorrow.

ATTENTION RESIDENTS OF ******!!
The parking situation has gotten out of hand. As a courtesy to all of us who use the lot next to the building when you are parking someone in, or are parked in a way that might potentially cause someone to get parked in LEAVE CONTACT INFORMATION ON YOUR CAR.

Not just you either, all of your guests. If they’re using our lot, they need to show courtesy toward the other residents of the building.

I have already had one car towed this week. I don’t want to have to do that again. This is a warning though, that I will be getting more aggressive about towing cars.

Questions, comments or bitching about the unfairness of it all? Anne *****, Apt. **

:: ::::
sentenceses that didn't make the cut:

~ Just because you get to sleep in on Saturday doesn't mean that some people don't WORK FOR THEIR MONEY you SPOILED BASTARDS!

~ Oh, and if there's room in front of you? Pull the fuck forward.

~ Scratch my car one more time and I will grind your ass.

~ Think you're only going to be inside for five minutes? I don't give a damn. Leave the info anyway.

~ Oh, and this is especially directed at that bitch in number 2. The fact that you have a driverlicensece makes me fear for my life.

~ God, didn't your mother teach you anything!?

~ I say for the last time LEARN HOW TO PARK!!!!

~ Questions comments or general bitching about the unfairness of it all? SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!

:: ::::

I note that this blog has become distinctly R-rated. Sadly enough, only for language. Well, that may be toned down a little come morning when I've cooled off a little.

Possibly not.

 
Miscellany

Well, I haven't been in much of a mood to update lately. Funnily enough, that's because I'm working on a major redesign right now. I can only do one blog-related thing at a time it appears. Apparently I don't multitask well. The Donald would totally fire me (though I'm not a minute hoarding clock watcher.) So, today's entry is a bunch of randomness that I didn't feel like developing into full entries. Reap the fruits of my laziness.

:: :::

Firstly, as you may be able to tell, I've just finished watching the finale of The Apprentice. Best. Show. Ever. So good, so tense these last few weeks.

I'm a notorious Survivor fiend, but I have now officially channeled my Mark Burnett love in a new direction.

I'm totally in love with Carolyn, one of Trump's hench(wo)men. She's my new TV crush, and no, the fact that she's a girl makes no difference whatsoever. I'm an equal opportunity TV-crusher.

She rocks ... old school.

:: :::

Yesterday I rented Urban Legends from work. Honestly, I know it's a cheesy horror flick but it is probably the one movie that I've ever been seriously (like long term) scared by.

For weeks after I saw that film the first time I was nervous about things like putting my feet down out of my car door (Someone's going to slice my tendons! And kill me!) and sleeping with the closet door closed (Someone's in there! To kill me!) and staying alone in my dorm room (My roommate will never even notice! But he'll kill me!) and on and on. Really, it's quite a revelation the number of people who could potentially want to kill me.

More than, say, a random bunch of absurdly stupid people getting whacked in a cabin in the woods, there is something insidiously scary about all those stories you've heard since you were young being brought to life on film. It seems so much more like it could happen.

Honestly, I don't know if I wasn't to watch the movie again, now that I think about it. If I do I think I'll be at the computer on the Snopes Urban Legend Reference pages the whole time.

And I'm not eating PopRocks and Coke.

Creeepy.


:: :::

I have lost my black sweatshirt and I'm really damn upset. I know I got off the plane in SB with it, I know that it is nowhere in the apartment, therefore it must have been left in the cab.

I would like to state for the record (and in a serious fit of pique) that you should never, never use the Checkered Cab Co. For one thing they way overcharged me (They charge a base rate to IV, which the driver didn't tell me until I was in the cab and we had left the airport) and for another the manager has been really rude as I've been trying to get my damn sweatshirt back.

He says no one has turned it in. Fine. It's not his fault (except that he should manage his cabbies better.) But he wouldn't even promise to ask the driver about it, or to give me his name. He's been stonewalling me at every turn, where everyone else I called about it (and I did cover all my bases) was extremely helpful.

I'm seriously pissed. I know it sounds silly, but the sweatshirt was expensive and it's kind of the principle of the thing.

I'm sticking with Yellow Cab from now on.

:: :::

This month is honestly just kicking my but. Between work, tours (large ones) and school, I'm feeling stressed and pressed in a way that I haven't in a long time.

I have never had too much trouble in school (or at least not since middle school) in managing my time but this quarter I feel like I constantly have something to do, and I'm constantly exhausted and I'm always about two steps behind where I need to be.

I just need April to be over so that the tours shrink back down to normal and I can cross that off my list of things to stress about.

I'm not even thinking about what the hell I'm going to do this summer.

:: :::

Lastly, I'd like to say, watch this space! At some point in the next few days there will be big changes with this blog.

The overhaul includes many of my new technological skills, including a scrolly thingy.

Oooh ... scrolly.

 
Chicka-me

For those of you who don't know, and that's probably everyone since I hardly mentioned this at all, I spent this past weekend in Salt Lake City, Utah at a ski resort, celebrating Easter and my mother's birthday.

Truly, vacationing with my family is an interesting experience. My mother is the ultimate tourist. When she is someplace new or different, she doesn't care about fitting in, or looking dorky, she is going to plunge right into the tourist experience, determined to make the most of every vacation. When I was younger this was cause for great embarrassment of the, "Oh my god Mom, put the camera down and let me take this stupid hat off" variety. Slowly however, I have come to embrace her philosophy. We're tourists dammit. "Who the hell cares!" inevitably become my motto while on vacation with the family. Really, it's the only sane option. Even minimal resistance to my mother the vacation steamroller (which my dad and brother still try occasionally) just makes everything twice as embarrassing. She's gonna do it anyway, you may as well go along with it and have some fun.

So, we like to ski. We're seriously bad skiers (with the sole exception of my brother) but we like to "go skiing." It's fun, it really is, you should try it if you haven't. Every time we take a skiing vacation I think, "I'm not actually going to get out on the slopes. I'm not really in the mood. It's such a hassle." And it is a hassle, a major one. Honestly, we spent most of our time trying to figure out how to get around having to walk anywhere in those damn boots lugging our skis. But it's also seriously exhilarating and kind of addictive, even if all you are doing is cruising down the Bunny slope at .25 mph in the death crouch.

My mom and I are unashamed Bunny-slopers. On the first day I was there (Saturday) we met the boys (who had already been outfitted and out on the slopes for several hours) for lunch at about one. Mom didn't want to ski because she worries about her knees and didn't want to "push her luck," I didn't want to ski because I was tired and because I'm always grumpy at the beginning of a vacation. The plan was to get my equipment so that I didn't have to deal with it the next day and then head back to the hotel for a rousing round of spa-age. We passed the ticket window. "Ooh, look Ma, you can get a $11 lift ticket just for Chickadee!" "Wow, that's ... a really good deal." Did I mention the mother can't resist a deal? Get this, she even asked if there was a 1/2 day Chickadee pass. What? You want to pay less that $11? Good luck, Ma. Chickadee is the bunniest of all of Snowbird's bunny slopes (although still not the easiest thing I've ever skied.) We figured we could handle a few runs down before the lifts closed.

Then began the saga of the equipment. If you have never skied before trust me the worst thing about it by far is the equipment. For one thing, skiing requires a lot of clothes to begin with, you've got snow boots, hats, gloves, scarves, special socks, and that weird ear/ hair band thing my mom loves, to keep track of. On top of that you put on boots made entirely of hard, uncomfortable plastic, strap yourself into them as tightly as possible to the point where it is not possible to actually walk correctly and lug around two heavy, unwieldy pieces of wood, as tall as your chin, slippery with ice and snow, and having small blades on the side. Woo! Fun vacation!

In a moment that I'm pretty sure was deeply Freudian my mom and I actually managed to forget the skis. No, really. We went into the rental place, got all fitted, payed for everything and then ... walked out the door to put our other stuff in a locker and off towards the slopes. Doo de doo, dum de dum. < Abrupt halt to the strolling > "Wait! Anne, where are the skis?" < beat > "Ok, no problem, just walk back into the rental place like we meant to leave them there. They'll never know. I'm sure people do it all the time."

The Clampetts Go Skiing continued when, later that day, we were trying to figure out a way to ski all of our stuff over the hotel, so that we didn't have to walk which, as I've mentioned, is to be avoided at all costs. If you take the Chickadee lift up it is possible to ski down into the locker area of the hotel, the problem was he had all this pre-ski stuff, like my mom's purse and both of our pairs of shoes that we needed to get onto the lift with, as inconspicuously as possible. On that note let me just say that it's not every day that you hear your mother say, "Wait a minute, I just have to stuff my boots in my pants."

So, it was a nice weekend. Well, I consider pretty much any weekend nice in which my parents pay for most of my food. But aside from that actually it was a lot of fun. And that's the thing about vacations with my family. They're weird, my mom is shameless, as a unit we are helplessly middle-America but they are fun.

 
Talk To Me One More Time And I'll Show You Your Savior

Before I start on this rant (and it will be a rant) I'd like to tell y'all what occasioned it. I had some time between classes today and I wasn't really in the mood to go home, so I headed out to the cliffs behind Manzy, the little area with the picnic tables right next to DP. I was standing at the fence people watching and taking in the view (a thousand shades of steely gray stretching out forever, broken only by the bobbing heads of surfers, like seals.) A girl with a bike who had been standing around for a while walked up to me and asked if I had five minutes. I thought she wanted me to watch her bike. I asked her what she needed. She said, "I'm in a group on campus and I've been trained to talk to people who look like they have free time about Christ." Uh oh. KKK.

I know that I have posted in this blog before about my distaste for the on campus club Campus Crusade for Christ, (Mission: "Our purpose is to spread the word of Jesus Christ on this campus, win hearts over to the kingdom of God, and train them to be disciples who will join in the fulfilling of the Great Commission.") This girl wasn't CCC, but she was from their auxillary group Korean Campus Crusade for Christ (KCCC). I'm certainly not anti-organized religion, or even anti-christian. I still go to church when I'm at home and feel like I get something out of it, even if only intellectually, I'm in the Gospel Choir, for pete's sake. But I can't stand some of the things which seem to come along with it.

1) She's trained. Trained for gods sake like a seal, to go up to people and badger them. I mean, this group just tells their members to go up to random individuals and talk at them. It is exactly that completely ineffective technique which makes Mormons and Jehovah's Witness so universally annoying. It's creepy, so much like brainwashing that I really don't see a distinction. They talk about themselves as the "army of Christ" as though it were a good, a glorious thing, when I just see it as regimenting religion. Regulating the heart and soul. Training them.

2) She is interrupting me. "Talk to people who look like they have free time." So I look like I have free time, did it occur to you that I want that free time? That I have spent 99% of my week dealing with school, work, and touring and that I badly need a little time to just think. Did it occur to you that just because you want to talk about "our savior" does not mean that I should be forced to spend the next 15 minutes dodging your incresingly desparate conversation gambits while trying not to be too horribly rude? Did that occur to you? No. Of course it didn't. You have a mission, a calling from God to speak to as many people as possible, to do as much as possible without really thinking about anything.

3) She is essentially ignorant. Now this one, I don't find all the time and is certainly not a common trait in proselytizers, but this girl knew nothing about anything she should have known about. I say that I'm in the Gospel Choir. She asks if that means we sing Gospel music. Yeah, that would be the idea. She asks if Gospel means, "Like about Jesus and stuff." Again, yeah thats the general concept. I mention that we're having a concert on Monday in connection with the Veritas Forum, a Christian organization which sponsers high profile events and speakers. She has never heard of them. By the end of the conversation I am telling her about how to find out info on Veritas, and what they do. Jesus H. Roman. KCCC, if you're going to send minions out into the world to do your bidding, could you make sure that they are versed, at the very least, on the Christian happenings around campus? There is nothing so annoying as having someone who is very ill informed attempt to preach at you.

Oy, this is a long one. I really don't mean any offense to Christians in general, this was directed at a specific mindset that some obsessively religious people seem to have. It pisses me off. It inflames me. It annoys me. I tend to shut it out unless it is thrust on me, as it was in this case. She would not let me get away. When I told her I'd heard it before, from friends even, she was shocked that it hadn't worked. She was everything that is misguided and wrong about Christianity and religion in general. And I don't like it. Keep it away from me.