Okay, I am starting to feel like it just might be possible that someone
out there has made a voodoo doll representing me. I don't know what I
did to them, much less when or why, but I am sure if they had aired
their grievances at the time I would have owned up to my part of the
situation and apologize for whatever transgression or at least explained
how I really meant whatever it was I said or did, which was most
assuredly not ever meant to be hurtful or inconsiderate of whomsoever
little feelers. They did not have to take the coward's way out and toy
with me from afar.
Ow! Quit it!
Last night I fractured a tooth eating a handful of Chex Mix. As you may imagine, I did not get very much sleep. At six in the morning, I gave up the chase and crawled out of bed. Due to not having a vehicle at my disposal, I had to find a local dentist who also took my type of insurance. I was in luck and found one just a little under a mile from my home. After sorting that bit out, I decided to check my email. I cruised through deleting the spammy bits and the other assorted non-imperative messages and was just about to close my in-box when I saw a message pop up from someone I am working on a group project with for a class this semester. This actually made me happy, since I like her and I was expecting a notice of progress on her section or something else of interest about the project. What I got instead was a notification that she had somehow accidentally deleted my section as she was playing around with it (it being MY section, not her section) and there was no back up made prior to her attempts to modify cough*my*cough section. Seriously?
I know I was just whining about being poor yesterday. And I am still very poor today (the car is supposed to be done on Friday, so chances are I will be even poorer this weekend, like so far in debt that I can't see light poor). Knowing all of this does not change my instant acquisitive reaction when I saw a picture of this bookshelf unit on Facebook (damn you Facebook!).
I covet this bookshelf!
Maybe I could sweet talk the man into making a similar one for our little house? You know, after he is done being upset at me for us being within spitting distance of destitution.
It might be a while before I can call this bookshelf mine. Yeah, a long while. :)
This Monday was an uglier Monday than I have had the pleasure of facing down in a long time. My car has not been in the best of health for some time. It is an old car. I have had it since the second Wednesday in September of 2001. I have been fortunate with this little Toyota. It has only ever required new tires (several sets over the years...it is what I get for buying cheaper tires), front brakes, and as recent as last month a motor mount. It has never cost me more than a few hundred dollars at time. That is until today. We were going to take her in for a grinding noise that we could not narrow down to one specific problem. I had hoped the motor mount would fix the problem and it seemed like it had for about a week. Then the noise came back with a vengeance. Luckily (or so I thought at the time) I did not need to be into work today until noon. This is not a normal start time and I was very grateful for the late start. I got up early and called the garage. They said I could drop it off right away. I was grateful. I thought I had good fortune and would be able to nip the problem in the bud before it cost me an arm and leg. I really have to do something about this optimistic streak I have. It only leads me down a path to trouble. The man works second shift so I had a ride to work. I also had a ride from work thanks to the incredibly giving nature of my coworkers (luckily several of them live near me). The snow on the road this spring morning was not bad at all, so the weather was not an obstacle. I also thought this was a lucky stroke. As we started off down the road to the garage, which is only a mile from my home, my luck ran out. The car gave one last loud grinding screech and would not budge one inch further. We could not even get it to engage in neutral so we could push it off the side of the road. We left it with flashers on and an old white Burger King bag hanging out of its window (hey, don't judge me) two blocks from my home. We had it towed to the garage (one mile of towing is apparently worth seventy five dollars). I went to work and fretted most of the day as I waited for the verdict. The verdict came in about a grand more than I was fretting it would. Now I am fretting over where the money is going to come from. I am also fretting how bad of a mood the man will be in and for how long he will maintain it. We are already financially strained. My education has put a burden on our household. My two jobs do not pay well, part of why we are financially strained. We have a terminally ill dog, another reason we are broke but I will give up eating to make sure she is comfortable in her final months. All of this has had the man already tense and anxious over money. This car of mine is putting him over the edge I am afraid. While I cannot see a way around our current predicament, I can't blame him for wanting to blame me for all of his troubles. Luckily I have good friends and coworkers so the one thing I don't have to worry about it getting to and from work the rest of the week. I just hate putting others out to help me out. I will have to think of something good to make in order to repay their kindness. I just have one more thing to brood about; when did my life turn into a bad country and western song? Seriously, my vehicle is broke down, my dog is dying, I am flat broke, my man is angry...and there is no beer in my fridge. Well played Monday. Well played.
Daisy is a fifteen year old sophomore at Castle
Creek High. She lives alone with her mother in a nice trailer park, really more
like “a ‘community’” of small “modern, eco-friendly, pre-fab construction”
modular homes. Daisy has only ever known
a life where it has been just her mother, herself and their cat Romeo. She
never knew her father and her mother never talks about him. She has also never
really been comfortable enough in her other schools to make a real friend
because she has a secret. She has a gift that sets her apart from others. A gift
that she does not yet fully understand.
This past year has brought some positive changes to
Daisy and her mother’s lives. As Daisy has grown older, she has finally found
ways to help control her gift enough that her mother does not need to worry
as much about her. Her control allows her enough confidence to finally begin to hope she will be able to live life as a
relatively normal teenager for a change. The pair seemed to have settled well into a life in
Southern California. Her mother has a good job as a nurse. Their home is cozy
enough for the two of them and Daisy has finally found a best friend who she
could trust sharing her secret with. Daisy has even met a boy. However, Daisy’s
world is about to be shaken up once again when she befriends a girl
named Vivi. Vivi also has a secret; one that has already put Vivi’s life in
jeopardy and will also threaten Daisy and Danielle's lives too.
Will Daisy be strong enough to save them all or will
her gift be the reason they will all be destroyed?
Ms. Buchanan produces a solid story with a steadily
paced narrative. I would readily recommend this book for readers younger YA
What I liked about the book:
Its paranormal elements were tethered
very well to a real world scenario, making it easier for a reader to believe it
The dialogue between the teenagers,
especially Danielle’s rants, and their emotional turmoil was very realistic.
There is none of this teenage soul mate romantic nonsense that pollutes many books
in the YA paranormal genre.
The historical research that the group does
to try and understand what is happening and why. I am a history dork and the
historical part is always my favorite in tales of the supernatural.
What I was less fond of:
The need to suspend your belief, not
about the supernatural events but about the way Daisy’s mother is so oblivious
to her daughter’s actions and what is really going on in her life.
The plot was a little too simple for my
tastes but again, a perfect read for younger YA readers.
Sweet Wednesday evening, how I have longed for you to get here. You are my oasis in the middle of a harsh, hectic week. Not only are you the first chance I get to take a breath in-between working two jobs and my schedule for course work but that breath affords me the strength to push forward and tackle two of the most hectic days in my week, Thursday and Friday (and to also marinate my mind with a little senseless TV, courtesy of Hulu). Wednesday, I know I do not say this often enough but thank you for being a friend. Sincerely your BFF, ~Andy P.S. Why do I have the Golden Girls theme song running through my head now?
Seriously, it feels like it was just Saturday a day ago, where did Sunday go? I don't have much to say right now, mostly because I am only halfway through my first cup of coffee, but also because I must get ready and go to work soon. I have Spring Break from Pitt this week, so hopefully this will mean I have time to produce two book reviews this week. One is long over due for Gift by Andrea Buchanan, the other is for Water Witch by Juliet Dark, which I just finished last night. Since it is Monday, I feel compelled to whine a bit but I will camouflage my whinging under the guise of stock advisory. If you do not already have stock in an over the counter pharmaceutical company, I suggest you hurry out and buy some. 2013 has proven to me that this will be the year I divvy up a farily substantial portion of my paltry paycheck between CVS and Rite-Aid. I was sick most of January, when the plague was circling the Lancaster County area frequently. I was sick just two weeks ago with an unexpected but violent stomach bug (I prefer to call it gastrointestinal hellfire, I feel it is more descriptively accurate). Now it is March and I lost my one day off to a nasty head cold. I still feel like a ton of bricks hit me but cannot afford to miss another day of work so soon, especially since I need to make the money to buy all those damn tissues and OTC medications that will help make it possible for me to get through a day of work without curling up under my desk and telling people to head south in a hand-basket. Today's lucky beneficiary of my poor health will be Rite-Aid, since there is one across the street from my job. If you don't want to sink your money into a specific pharmacy, I am fond of Puff Plus tissues and will be buying many, many boxes of these soft tissues today. And that concludes today whinge session financial advisory session. Now go forth and kick Monday's ass.
Hey, how ya' doin'? It's Monday, so probably not so good. Me either. So with that in mind, I bring you a little installment I like to call Misanthropic Monday. In this blog segment, I will give you several rant worthy topics for you to stew on and to focus all that unwanted loathing toward. Having an outlet to pour all of that unfocused anger Monday mornings instill in us all will help you be a better person eventually (meh, it's a theory). So without further ado I give you rant number one; The System.
The system is not a person but it was created and damaged by people, so we can hate on it as the man made clusterf*@% it is. I don't bring this here for political reasons, because to me it does not matter what side of the fence you stand on, we all have to agree this system is not working the way it should be. I do not profess to have an answer for how to fix it, much less think that there is only one answer to solve the cluster we call our economy. And most importantly, I am not naive enough to believe it is an easy job to fix what is broken in our society. Today none of that matters because it is Misanthropic Monday and I can just be angry that the system is so broken that this is a reality without pointing fingers at the people I feel may be responsible for braking it more. If you cannot get on the train to hatin' on the system, perhaps these little reminders that not only are a fairly substantial size of our population poor, or hovering at poor's doorstep, but are also grossly uneducated in the ways of their beloved language, some willfully so and they are not too proud to show it. With that I bring you rant worthy topic two; The grammatically challenged and damn proud of it. So go ahead and seethe a little now so later in the day you can smile and nod at your fellow coworkers or customers. Granted I know Monday is almost over and this post would have been more appropriate to the beginning of your day. I would have posted this earlier in the day but you know, it's freakin' Monday!