I’ll Meet You Where the Page Proclaims The End

In a few weeks I will be turning twenty. This shouldn’t be much of a big deal, but to me it is catastrophic. I have been told that twenty is nothing to freak out about; twenty-one is the one that really matters. Well, not to me it doesn’t. Who cares about alcohol? It’s expensive and unhealthy. Aside from wine on a special occasion I don’t see much of a point in it. My mother told me that I will look back and wish I could have the time before twenty back. I think she is right.
I have always been the type of person to think too far ahead. I am prepared for everything, even if I didn’t prepare for it. I am thinking about the way life will wind down before it has even picked up. So I turn twenty, okay. Then I become a twenty-something, then a thirty-something and who knows how many somethings God will allow me to have on Earth. But I digress.
The twenties are the most hectic times in a person’s life. They turn twenty-one, they graduate from college, are introduced to loan repayment plans, get big-kid jobs, find a worthy person to settle down with, then finally settle down. Oh, and car insurance goes down at twenty-five. I am honestly more excited about money I don’t have to spend on insurance instead of money I will spend on liquor.

The fact of the matter is that I don’t want to grow up. I’m a toys-r-us kid, dammit. I put on my big girl pants and grew up a long time ago, so why should I be forced to put another notch up on the year post? Isn’t it enough that I’ve been twenty-three for the last two years? (by that I mean I am young enough to still be immature when I want to be, but old enough to not be phased by offerings of that gasoline people call liquor). Can I not be frozen in time at this age?

Peace, Love, and Puddin’ Pops,
AMZ

Twilight Shift

This past Friday, I went to see Twilight Saga: Eclipse with Duha. Duha is worthy of a blog post of her own being as complicatingly interesting as she is, and I mean that in a good way. Anyway, Eclipse. I watched Twilight online, skipped New Moon, and finally shelled out the 10 bucks for a ticket to Eclipse. In high school, the books were alright. The first one was very good, the second alright, though they got progressively more strange, and by the end of the series I was actually a little surprised that I put myself through that.
I, being a gullible and cooperative person, tend to follow the path of interest that the author sets me down upon. Main girl = a clusterfuck named Bella. kay. Main guy = a glittery gentleman named Edward. Gotcha. Then I saw Eclipse, and my views of the series changed dramatically. Bella is still a clusterfuck, but it seems that every word she says and every emotion she attempts to convey is done so with her powerful chin. Edward is still a glittery gentleman, but the look on his face makes it seem like he is very…uncomfortable. His words are forced and raspy, and his cheek bones are very severe. I’d have to say the biggest thing I noticed that changes my opinion of the series would have to be the budding poof of chest hair that peeks from beneath the collar of his shirts. Oh my. No thank you. Good day sir.
Then we have the character Jacob, who never wears a shirt. Reading about someone not ever wearing a shirt is not very interesting compared to watching a character not ever wear a shirt. I enjoyed his character very much, and judging by the ‘mmm’s and gasps coming from beside me, so did Duha. My interest has definitely shifted from Edward in the books to Jacob in the movies. Afterward I actually promptly texted Michael so that I could ask him if he could become a werewolf for me and just conveniently never wear a shirt.

The Cullen clan left some to be desired all around. The women of the family were fine. They are always dressed well, but the men…no. Emmett’s haircut is very square and severe. I wonder what person, alive or undead would endure an awful haircut like that. Carlisle has slicked back blonde hair. Enough said. And the other male character, Jasper, just bugged me all around. His button down shirts were always buttoned all the way to the top. If he wasn’t already dead he would have choked to death. I mean honestly, who buttons the very top button? He was always very stiff and reserved in movements, like those awful outfits kept him from moving. His orange hair was chin-length and wavy. I don’t know what it is about these people and bad haircuts. And his eyes were always wide, as though surprised, but at the same time scrunched at the outside edges as though he’d just received devastating news.
Finally, of things to complain about. Two words: Dakota Fanning.

Don’t get me wrong, the movie was enjoyable. They definitely got a much bigger special effects budget than they did when making the first movie. I didn’t let these odd observations ruin the movie, but they were something I laughed about afterword.

Ah anywho, I am pleased to say Michael has finally given in on my girly pleas and gotten a blog of his own. I just want to hear what he has to say! That isn’t to say I he isn’t completely honest with me. He is, we haven’t kept anything from each other. It’s just different, ya know?

I wanted to end this post with an odd picture of the Cullen family doing what they do best: dressing strangely, but is seems as though I can’t find one good enough. So this will have to do:

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Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner. Two people who will never live down the parts of Cedric Diggory and Sharkboy.

 

 

 

 

 

Peace, Love, and Pudd’n Pops,
AMZ

Matriarchal Ways

Grandma’s visit flew by quickly. I enjoyed it quite a bit, and Michael made a great impression on her. Mom loved it up until they had a good ol’ mother-daughter bickering. Those are always more fun to see than they are to be a part of.

She came with a two cases of wine and two bottles of Vermont maple syrup. The syrup will last a year or two, and the wine…well, I’ll have to get back to you on that. When you’re with Grandma, most any occasion is a wine occasion. Half the supply of white that she brought is gone!

We all enjoyed a great dinner at an Italian place, and afterward had coffee. I must say (to all of you who either sick of hearing it or just plain don’t give a damn) that Michael was looking particularly handsome in his shirt, tie, etc. drinking a cup of coffee. If this is what the future looks like, I’m game.

Michael was amazing enough to drive us to Charleston for the day with Grandma in the front seat. Mom and I are were in the back. We saw some good historical points of the city because G-ma is a history buff. I didn’t spend much money. I bought a photo at the slave market of the Cooper River Bridge at sunset with the bridge lights lit, which I adore.

Halfway into the week, our vacuum’s belt decides to get stuck in the motor and melt, filling the whole house with an unpleasant burning smell. This is moments after mom mopped the floor to clean up after the 4th of July party saying something along the lines of “I love the smell of a clean home.” The vacuum is between 10 and 15 years old, so they stopped making belts for it. We bought the closest size to it per the vacuum store man’s recommendation and I, apparently, broke a very small piece of plastic that holds the vacuum upright. Fantastic. Time for a new vacuum!

Meanwhile, a bolt that holds the tank of the toilet in the main bathroom onto the base broke and tank water rushed onto the floor of the bathroom. I’m sure it’s the same toilet that has been there since the house was built 20 or so years ago. This means in addition to the broken vacuum I had a broken toilet. Nice.

We bought a new toilet, and with the help of Michael at an early hour of the morning we installed the damned thing ourselves.

I am extremely pleased with the work we’ve done. And it saves water whoo!
Mom on the other hand, though happy about the new thing, has succumbed to paranoia and decided that the AC unit will be the next thing to go. It was 100 degrees outside today and a stuffy 85 degrees in my house so that we could baby the AC a little and give it time to rest.

The moral of this story is that Michael has earned the stamp of approval by the Matriarch. Booyah.

 

Peace, Love, and Pudd’n Pops

Would You Like More Steak with Your Steak?

Here I am, in my brother’s room, typing away on the computer. Why am I in my brother’s room? Well folks, tomorrow is G-Day. G-Day is the clever name I bestowed upon the day with Grandma arrives from up north for the week. Many preparations have made for G-Day. Lawn-mowing, organizing, scrubbing!
Being a polite person I am giving Grandma my double bed for the week and I have decided to sleep in my brother’s twin bed. Or the couch. Err.
My entire day off has been spent getting ready for her arrival. Now it is 12 am, and I am wondering where my day went.

This is a very lame blog post.

In the world of work, I managed to figure out how to take a five digit zip code, zip4, and Delivery Point Bar Code numbers and transform them into an actual barcode! See, we’re trying to send out 4 thousand or so magazine/booklets I designed for the department to all of the members. In order to be efficient we are trying to eliminate the standard mailing labels and the whole step of printing the labels and slapping one on each booklet. As you could probably guess, this would take me a very long time, and my hands would fall off before I ever finished. We are also trying to eliminate our current postal software that makes life a little bit easier in favor of a postal software that is full of operation wizards. Import wizard! Export wizard! Address Correction Wizard, my God! This is a nerdy girl’s dreammmm!
We are in between programs right now, and I am having to configure the barcode information and transform it into a full blown postal bar code, including start and stop lines, the exact zip code and delivery point information, and a check digit! I am such a beast! This is something that the original software company offered to do for me for the low low price of $150 per hour. What a deal?

My boss is especially proud of me lately. He is proud of how I am doing in school, and how I am doing at work. Hell, he took us all out to Ruth Chris’ last week to prove it!

 

Note to myself: Things to write about next time=> coffee pots, wine and drinking ages, G-day, Toy Story 3, and ceiling leaks.

These are things that sound terribly boring now, but I will turn things around and make it entertaining. Or will I?

 

Peace, Love, and Puddn’ Pops
AMZ