Big Brother lives in Cleveland Heights

I was having a perfectly nice Sunday until now. My dad called me to inform me that I have gotten my second speeding ticket, courtesy of the United States Postal Service. Yes. I have been caught speeding TWICE by those damn invisible speeding cameras. And guess what, both times I have been in Cleveland Heights, that evil little city. I find this to be highly coincidental considering that the Heights is not a place that I often venture, and to be caught twice there is very very strange to me.

I feel like there is a conspiracy at work here. Like someone is stealing my car during the day, driving it around Cleveland at ten miles over the speed limit, and returning it to me at the end of the day leaving no trace of their joyride.

And why is the speed limit 25 on Lee Rd anyways?!?! I can't drive 25!

The thing that really pisses me off is that I have gotten SO good at looking for cops and throwing my car in a lower gear so they don't see me break so that I cruise past them at a respectable 1 mile under the speed limit. Damn you cameras for making me work for my right to speed!

Now readers, I dont want you to think that i'm that asshole on the road that flies up behind you swerving in and out of traffic like a psycho. I'm not. I just have a bit of a lead foot, and not a whole lot of patience for a 25mph speed limit. On a peppy day I can skip faster than that.

All I'm saying is I have worked hard to hone my internal Cop sensors, and i'm pissed that these damn cameras have beat my at my own game. According to photoenforced.com, I am safe in Mentor, so F you Hts, you will be earning no more money from me!

Readers, If the government has been bending you over and screwing you straight up the ass, feel free to bitch. misery loves company.

no shoes, no shirt....

Dear Guy at the Library:

Please stop wearing racer back tank tops. Every time I work you come in with a different color racer back tank top on, and flaunt it like you are hot shit. You are not hot shit. Your scrawny body is to small for your xxl racerback, resulting in at least one.... sometimes two nipples sticking out of the large armholes. I can not take you seriously with your hairy man nipple staring at me square in the face. You are practically violating the no shoes no shirt no service sign posted on the front door, for which I could have you thrown off the premises for. But no...the nice dedicated librarian that I am finds your books on Maslow and Erickson that you requested for your "term paper" (like you go to college wearing clothes like that) and ignores your indecent attire. For the good of the patrons, and myself, please stop. neon is not in, and this is not muscle beach 1990.

Grossed out beyond belief,

tt

Pet Peeves of the Co-Inhabitant

Here I am, about two weeks into "living in sin" as my grandmother would put it, trying to adjust to living with a boy. Here are the top things I hate about boys:

1. To achieve the best sound in a living room that is approximately 10'X12' we apparantly need five speakers and a giant bass thingy. It's not good enough unless the neighbors feel like they are right in the action too.

2. The ability to snore so loud that you can hear it in any room of the house.

3. The need to hang anything american flag anywhere he can (that is K specific)

4. The wierd concoctions that he calls dinner. noodles, rice, and ramen dont exactly qualify as a well balanced meal.

On the flip side there are some awesome perks to living with a guy...

1. Not having to do anything man related....from hanging up hardware to hooking up the wireless internet to killing the mayflies that invaded the house when I opened the door....he does it all!

2. The speakers do sound good!

3. Getting to walk around the house naked

anyways, so far it's going good, I can learn to deal with the weird things that boys do... and as far as the girly things that i miss from living with females.... i'm sure I can talk him into doing some of those things!

creepy

In my stress induced insomnia, I have taken up regular reading of random magazines. this month's magazine is Glamour. While flipping the pages and not really reading, something caught my eye. It was a mcdonalds ad that featured a man named Paul, the dollar menunaire.

Now Paul, if you have ever seen the ad, is a man that I was afraid of as a child because I thought that he was the "bad man" that all of the teachers were talking about when they said not to talk to strangers.

He looks like a cross between Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie. Why they would feature this man in an advertisement meant to turn me on to Mickey d's (as the "cool" kids called it) I dont know. This advertisement makes me want to hide in my bedroom, and call childrens services.

all about gas stations

My blog is officially turning into "my life at the gas station." It seems like everything interesting now happens at the gas station. This event was not only uninteresting, but also slightly depressing. I'm paying for my purchases at the counter and eye the sign that says "you can't buy tobacco if you were born before this date" and the date was....... july 21st, 1990!

I cannot even explain how much this depressed me. Officially, everyone who was born in my decade is of legal age to purchase tobacco. Is 24 too soon to start lying about your age? Or to be having a mid-life crisis?

I swear i'm not jewish

I have been an unruly mess lately. I'm so stressed out I can literally feel the baseball sized knot at the base of my neck throbbing in beat with the rythm in my head. But I swear this has no effect on what happened to me at the gas station the other day. I feel this is wrong on pure principle.

So I'm buying my weekly Plain Dealer for the classifieds and (of course) the coupons, a news herald, and a lovely vintage bottle of 2008 Sutter Home to soak up my sorrows while i continue my search for a job and a home (is my life sweet or what?!?!). My total comes to $12.94. I conveniently had exactly thirteen dollars and gave it to the lady. She proceeds to take my six cents, throw it in the "have a penny give a penny" ashtray and walks away. NOT EVEN A HAVE A GOOD DAY!

All I have to say is what the HELL? Ok, i know six cents is not a big deal. And on a regular day, it may not have pissed me off. But thank YOU very much ms. I work at BP and have an attitude the size of a walrus's dick, I dont think that YOU have a right to decide what to do with my six cents! In fact, if you would have given it to me, i probably would have thrown it in the ashtray myself. But I would at least like the choice! or maybe, juuuuuust maybe i needed that six cents! I know i sure LOOKED like i needed it dressed in my pajamas sweating my ass off cuz i didnt fix the a/c in my car yet buying a plain dealer and a cheap bottle of wine. the last thing i needed was that lady taking my change and not telling me to have a good day.

If you'd like you can call me TT McBowlerwitz from now on.

nice vocals dude

I don't understand people who randomly sing to themselves in public.

I was at the gas station pulling up to the pump in my un-airconditioned car so naturally i had the windows down. The first thing i notice is that this man had parked his giant baby blue cadillac so far away from his pump that i barely had enough room to pull my tiny car in. the second thing that i notice is that this man is singing to himself. and not at all quietly. in fact, he is belting out a very soulful version of Alicia Keys "falling" (note to Nom: right up there with thong song to me). so when i give him a famous "what the fuck are you doing" ttown look, he gives me a look back that says "what bitch, a man can't sing some soul at a gas station?"

Am i in the wrong? do people normally act like they are on American Idol: Hidden
Camera Edition? Does he think that some big producer is going to wisk him away from the marathon in highland heights to cut a record deal? Well, anyways, he was kind of good, so I asked him for an autograph just in case he's at a gas station with P. Diddy some day.




(not true, but i think it made an ok ending.)

You're as cold as ice

There are many things in life that i can let fly. Most of my pet peeves i can brush off my shoulder with a raised hand and a What- everrrrrrrrrr (I'm usually channelling my inner Cher Horowitz when i do this). But there is something that has been going on in my house lately that i have had it up to here with.... empty ice trays.

Not only are the ice trays empty and thrown back into the fridge. oh no, not in this house. They are empty and thrown into the sink where piles of nasty foodstuffs get on them until yours truly fishes them out, washes them, refills them, and puts them ever so lovingly back into the freezer. now call me crazy but i believe behavior like that is aimed at specifically pissing me off.

I must ask, how f-ing hard is it to take that extra thirty to forty five seconds to refill the ice tray and stick it back in the freezer WHERE IT BELONGS?!?!!? I can just hear the thoughts running through the offenders head. "well, i'm the only one that fills them so... blah fucking blah blah blah!" SO not true! grrrr

So reader, what are the pet peeves that make you want to kill someone? Even better, what are some things i can do to piss off the ice tray offender?

I will do anything for pens

What is it about pens that make people so obsessed? I can understand, kind of, having a favorite pen, and maybe shedding a tear when someone steals that pen. But then you get a new pen and get on with your life.

Because I really like my boss, and she's let me stay on wayyyy past when I should have been laid off, and she gave me two vacation days for free, i decided to show her the kindness that she has shown me by giving her... a pen. Not a regular pen though... the hardest to find pen in the world, the "i'm pretty sure its discontinued, but i'm pretty sure i can find it on a japanese bootleg site" pen. She is completely obsessed with it, down to her last one, and i know i would be the coolest person on earth to her if i could find this pen.

Now to the real point of my blog... in my search for this pen, i have found an incredible amount of blogs about pens. What has to happen in your life for you to spend all of your time blogging about pens? Do you get free pens for this? Even if you did, eventually you'll just have a lot of pens, and very few friends.

Here are a few of my favorite pen blogs:
http://penaddiction.blogspot.com/2008/01/review-uni-ball-signo-dx-038mm.html
http://penquest.wordpress.com/2006/12/19/uniball-signo-207/
http://www.rohdesign.com/weblog/archives/001860.html
(this one has pictures!)

Have fun my loyal blog fan, and be glad my blog isn't about pens....until now

Countdown: 13 days

So. here i am. thirteen days from unemployment. I have applied to every low level administrative assistant position in all of greater cleveland, and apparantly a job hopping student with no experience in anything who will be graduating and (hopefully) getting the hell outta there in a year is not something employers are looking for right now. go figure.

now this wouldnt be so incredibly bad if it werent for the fact that i have a gaggle of successful, well paid friends. boo on my life. pretty soon i will be joining the ranks of this woman.



readers.... wish me luck. because you do NOT want to see me in that outfit!

gypsy magic

My boyfriend's mom is the funniest person I know. This is her reason, verbatim, as to why she broke up with her boyfriend. "K is hungarian and was bought up w/gypsy magic. he is too into ghosts, witches and that shit. it all scares me. i just left a message on his phone and wished him good luck"

WHAT?!?!?!?!

So with pressure from D and L, I decided to submit it on to Postcards from yo momma. I put her under my mother in law for an easy story, and lo and behold first thing this morning, it was the only new post!! We're famous!

My luck may be turning!

After I found out that I would be losing my job.... my luck has pretty much been shit. I've been on several interviews with no job offers. I need to find a new place to live after this summer for various reasons. My boyfriend has gone to virginia for ten weeks for his job, and to top it all off some dick cleveland cop gave me a $185 ticket for running a red light that was SO inconspiciously placed that no one should ever have to stop at it. oh yeah, and my phone has been broken for a week. which brings me to my new found good luck. of course, everything on my phone isnt working right so i have to go to verizon for them to fix it. bad luck continues. I'm waiting for about half hour when i say screw it and leave. just so you're with the story... still bad. THEN i pull out onto mayfield road into what i thought was a conveniently fashioned turning lane for the mess of construction that always occupies this road.

wrong. i get pulled over. the cop pretty much asked me what the hell i was doing turning in the construction barriers. so i throw out my best ditzy voice and tell him i thought it was a turning lane (true) and that i'd never driven on this road before because i am from out of town (false). he doesnt buy it. so he takes my info and goes back to his car. so i'm sitting in my seat flaming pissed because i have just gotten a ticket two weeks ago, and i know i'm going to get another one and WOW is my insurance going to go up when he comes back says your lucky, there's been an accident, practically throws my stuff back at me and takes off!! HOLY CANOLI!!! that has never happened to me before! I feel like i am inviting some terrible Karma into my life by saying this, but thank God for that accident!! ( i hope everyone is ok) :) so i'm off to toledo for the weekend, doing the speed limit the whole way!