stuffs i learned from csi (all of them)

I am so addicted to crime related television shows. TNT, USA, A&E, E!, and Chiller are my weaknessez. There is always one marathon or another and I am completely pathetic.

If I ever get my head out of my ass and complete my nursing degree I would absolutely die to work with a medical examiner. Heh. None of the actual pressure or responsibility, but all of the awesome!

I have seriously considered forensic business, but I fear that most of the depictions from the TV are perhaps glamorized just a bit. What’s more disappointing is that I have a sneaking suspicion that not every case entitles you to a sweet montage.

Just awful.

I joined a pool team. It’s a little terrifying. I don’t play games. I fucking hate them. I don’t lose well and these women are entirely too intense. I’m not going to bail, but it is so scary. I learned most of the rules last night so I am going to meet JT in a few to practice. I always beat whomever I play because I never cared before and guys are always totally serious about the rules and then it fucks with their game if their opponent has a vagina… but now all the players have a vagina!!

I know… don’t be a pussy, koda.

Took the puppies toobing yesterday and we lost our flippy flopies in the Comal. I mean JT and I, not the puppies. Dogs don’t wear shoes.. to the river. I burned the crap out of my feet running back to the jeep, but it was good times. Looks to be a quiet holiday weekend.

You kids be good.. or at least don’t get caught being bad.. and if you are caught, deny everything. =)

me on drugs

I finally bit the bullet of shame and logged into my community college transcript and complete humiliation page. I lack two classes to enter nursing school.

Turns out there is a hold on my account for some “chemistry breakage” in the amount of $33 dollars. Just talking to these people takes most of my psychic strength and depletes any remaining self esteem.

“So, it looks like you haven’t been here in, oh, two years… Uhuh.”

Groan.

Don’t judge me.

Shit is hard.

I’ve been in a dark place with lots of snacks. #canned response as to *why* I am a failure

When I think chemistry I think about that day I had a freak out just before school, when I was in the hall, because of the fucked up medication I was on so I called my doctor and told her how I felt and how I’m gaining all this weight and I can’t calm down or breathe… She suggested I “put the burger down and go for a run.”

Fucking cunt licker.

Hindsight, everything I was prescribed for the last 5 years causes *marked* weight gain and made my symptoms progressively worse. Don’t get me wrong, I believe that I totally needed the effexor to clear my head of my guilt and utter despair and get the fuck out of midland. What I didn’t need was to completely destroy any good feelings I had left.

Medicine is not an exact science.

Psychiatry is a fucking crap shoot of epic proportions.

I thought a lot as a kid since I wasn’t in school and couldn’t have friends. When I grow’d up real good I reasoned that perhaps I was intelligent because I was constantly questioning and pondering and seeking explanation. Now I believe I was just really bored.

It is so much easier to exceed everyones expectations when you are young. It is super-duper easy to excel when everyone thinks you are an idiot.. And it’s fucking cake to graduate high school in 3 years because you are obsessed with that literal pat on the back after you were ignored for the preceding 16.

I am just a god damned dog.

You know I love dogs. I’m not saying anything to disparage them. I’m not going to kid myself either though and chalk anything up to little more than what could have very well been a cruel social experiment, fucked.

I lost my ambition. How the hell did I do all that cool shit before? I care, but I honestly don’t care.

The only person I don’t want to let down is my grandmother and I believe that she has accepted my superior mediocrity.

I was watching some Huckabee shit on fox and the douche was boasting about being one generation removed from living on dirt floors and outdoor bathrooms and being the only of his siblings to graduate high school. Wait a minute. That dudes like a million years old. I lived in a garage and didn’t get an indoor bathroom until I was like 11 and a door until I was like 14. I’m fairly certain I’m the only one of seven to graduate.

What the fuck makes him so special?

/end tangent

It’s obvious what made me sad before. And I totally needed those meds when I was first prescribed… But shit went bad and the doctors could give a fuck. Now I hate my body and while I don’t want to actively kill myself, I can’t seem to grasp a reason to hang around either.

In high school I took diet pills that made my mind race, me skinny, and totally productive about 20 hours per day. The antidepressants made me paranoid.

The more I try to analyze any creativity or imagination I know I possessed before the more evident it becomes that it was either entirely chemical and the pills made me awesome or that it was totally chemical and I’ve inadvertently circumcised my brain in an effort to escape pain.

On the bright side, I don’t feel anxious or want to off myself 24/7.. Then again I also don’t feel.

Sad.

social security

People we meet.. The ones we like and the others that just won’t go away… Or respect a court order.

Most of us have that little voice (some of us have several) inside that tells us when we are being a little too loud, standing a little too close, or just being flat out obnoxious. Some of us listen, some of us are constantly pressing ignore.

The new neighborhood has not only made this bear more active because we don’t actually have a back yard so much as a small used car lot or 8.352 equivalence of a red neck front yard, but I’m not hiding nearly as much as I got away with back in zombie town.. because I gots to walk the dogs or they will eat the house.

There’s only 5 cars back in back at any one time, but the number above is accounting for functional vehicles. =)

While our down stairs (giggle) neighbors keep to themselves for the most part, we (I really) have become quite um, accustomed, err, to our neighbor to the west. I called him BAMC (that’s bam-see for you non SA fuckers) on twitter over the weekend and I’m going to have to figure out what the B was for. Anyway, our friends that we had over for fishes and some others before that, all pointed out that he was wearing an ankle monitor. Not like to his face, but we politely conferred when he left the room because errbody has feelings and shit & I called him “meth head charlie” before I had actually met him because he reminded me of the guy from Lost.

Ahahahaahhahhaahhhhahhaha!!

MoMFG!! The B is for Bipolar. And not because I’m a terrible and insensitive persons. You know I know crazy, it’s just that drug addicted nick names are cute and being mental is teh suck.

He actually told me the other day that he was Bipolar and that’s why he is always awake at weird times.. Though it does little to explain why he doesn’t wear shirts or is always carrying an ax. I so wish I was kidding. Soooooo, you may be able to see how I possibly missed the city/county/state/federal issued jewelry when I was checking him for weapons..

While I’m interested in the “why he has to wear an ankle monitoring bracelet”, I’m also curious about the “jesus christ, doesn’t that thing have a proximity alarm or some shit? Please leave me the fuck alone!!”

He stops by all the fucking time, always when JT is gone, to borrow an onion, to drop off some beans and borrow some neosporin, and then as of Saturday I was out some sugar as well.. but he at least sent over his little girl friend, which wasn’t as creepy.

Maybe he is a nice guy in recovery and doesn’t have a lot of options to get out and meet people. It’s cool. Maybe he is casing my house? Whatevvs. Just don’t knock on the back door (serious) all the god damned time to do it.

Ahhhhhhhh!!!

A guy from work sent me some photos that were newly discovered of Marilyn Monroe. I thought it was fascinating, one, that he thought I of all people would be interested in a bottled blonde pill addicted whore (I can’t recall ever telling him I liked her?)… And dos, that she is still so “awed” over and in spite of the pill addicted whore part. Sure she modeled and was an actress, but seriously people.

It is always so much better to be late and leave early than to be the girl escorted out by security (or issued another restraining order, charlie).

I was going to talk about dogs, but I’m certain you are glad that I didn’t.

*giggle*

For reals though. If anyone can’t seem to find me (and you’ve already checked the couch, *whispers loudly* check charlies’ garden!!

will work for fun!!

Outgoing, energetic, big busted blonde seeking boat work.

Works well within a group or alone. Extremely self-motivated. Diligent and ambitious. With impeccable standards, nothing short of perfection or the job is not done. Prefers long hours in the hot sun. Desired work attire is a bathing suit/bikini or short shorts, tank top and comfortable, sensible, yet cute slip resistant tennis shoes. Of course, dress is very flexible and willing to adhere to any standard uniform. Also owns two relatively trained dock hounds for around the clock… errr protection or great fishing companions. Transportation provided by a fully equipped, rather rugged, beach approved Jeep wrangler which is perfect for running errands or reaching that remote strip of shore.

Room accommodations and board requirements are contingent on type of work and length of job.

guaranteed no sassy-mouth while on the clock.

Preferred compensation method is boat rides, kayaking, fishing, snorkeling, diving, hiking, camping, grilling, hunting, drinking beer or just about any other outdoor and nautical activities allowed if not entirely sanctioned by law.

If a calm, quiet work and play atmosphere is desired, that is more than acceptable, however, if one enjoys a good joke, a bad joke, would delight in discussing and/or debating the moral hypocrisy of our puritanical western civilization, outline a solid strategy for surviving the zombie apocalypse and likes a girl that can giggle on command, please just ensure to specify prior to employment.

Trained in First-Aid, child/infant/adult/canine CPR and AED certified, skilled in minor triage, and semi-qualified for severe scenario basic emergency surgery.

This is obviously only a brief description and slight example of the talents all inclusive to this fun loving, first-class* packaged deal!

Serious inquiries only, please.

*first-class is simply a metaphor, girl will be more than satisfied with coach or baggage area status

it was hard. it was a tuesday.

How the hell did you not wake up when I started kissing your arm?!

Or is it “how in the hell” and “awake”?

People talk a lot of shit about blogging, texting, and twitter.. But how often are we praised for our use and the depth to our 140 creativity character cap?

Our boss is gone. We weren’t given a reason and instructed not to ask or dwell. It is still a little bizarre. I’ve never “lost” a boss before. I liked him fine as a person, but I can’t help but think I’ve been cheated somehow. I leave you.. You don’t get to leave me. I really dig our interim facilitator though. He is really intelligent and grew up in Sacramento and listens to talk radio.

God, I’m such a fucking nerd.

The neighborhood is taking some getting used to. I still feel like I’m in a horror movie, but the plot is getting better.. Characters are being established so perhaps I will be harder to kill off and there is no way in hell they are going to hurt the dogs.

Christ, I am such a nerd.

I somehow got the television stuck on some msnbc channel with serial killer saturday and I looked up the stats for sex offenders in the area. I have jokes, but they are entirely inappropriate and I won’t be any part of that.

The house doesn’t have central air conditioning. This is new to me. I’ve become a spoiled little bitch. The dogs don’t seem to mind, but I have to get used to it. Sticky is no good.

I had this dream last night or this morning about like terrorists and Scott Sigler was there and there was sex or something, but not with Scott. I have no idea what time JT got in last night, I just remember waiting for 24 and then wondering if Jack Bauer would cease to be compelling if the terrorists botoxed those eyesbrows. Maybe me kissing the arm was a dream or something.

The time is fucking crawling by. I am working as diligently as possible and I can see no end in sight.

It was hard. It was a tuesday.

=)