White Trash at 7-11

I don't really expect high class when I go to 7-11. It is afterall, a convince store. However, I do expect people to behave a little better then they did last night when I was there.

I had to get gas and a few other things. I parked at the gas pump and walked in as my car was filling. Let me just inform everyone who may not know any better; under no circumstances, is it acceptable to spit a loogy. I don't care if you're by yourself, it's just disgusting. I seriously gag if I see someone do it.

As I was walking inside, I had to pass by a pickup truck. I was a few feet from the passenger side door, when the person sitting inside hacked a huge loogy out the window. It missed me by a few feet. I was pissed beyond belief. The asshole in the truck laughs when he sees me and said, good thing I looked first, huh?

Yeah, it's a good thing your pea sized brain was able to look before you spit that because I seriously would have killed you if it hit me. Furthermore, how is that funny that you did that. I would have been mortified if the situation was reversed(and it never will be reversed, mind you, because I don't spit that crap out in parking lots. I was raised with a little more class then that).

My niece always tells me that I have no manners when I eat with her. I actually have very good manners, I just choose not to use them when I'm around family and good friends. A loud burp can be very funny when in the correct company. With that said, here's what happened when I walked inside.

I was waiting in line to pay, and of course the people in front of me were arguing the price of what they were buying and had to rummage through their 12 pockets so they could pay with exact change(I'm so impatient, it's ridiculous). I was getting more irritated by the second, when the person in line behind me burped. Oh no, not a small burp, but a huge belch, and he leaned forward toward my ear when he did it. I'll give him a small amount of credit, he did say excuse me. I'm avoiding 7-11 for the next few days.

I'm Going to Look Like a Cheap Whore

One of the things that made me really uncomfortable with the show I'm in, is costumes. I have to look like a cheap whore for my character. It would be fun I suppose, if I was more comfortable with my body.

The show opens in about 2 and a half weeks, and I was getting anxious to know what I would be wearing. I had ideas for what I would be comfortable wearing, and knew I would have to compromise with the director.

Today, after rehearsal, I went out to dinner/drinks with some of the cast. After a few margarritas, I figured it was time to find a costume. Lover's Lane was right across the street, so we walked over to pick some stuff out.

The store closes at 6 on Sundays. We walked in at 5:58. They were so happy to see us. I found the shorts pictured above(not my body in the picture, in case you can't tell) and a shirt with a mesh front. Yes, that's all I'll be wearing on stage. I figured if I committed to it while I was slightly drunk and my inhibitions were lowered, I would have to wear it on stage and get over it.

Well, the alcohol is worn off now, and I'm wondering what the hell I got myself into. I already told my family they aren't allowed to come to the show. I need to hit the gym hard core for the next few weeks so that I look slightly presentable.

As we were leaving the store, someone; I'm not sure who, made a comment that is completely random, but I found very funny. I'll use it to close this post. It's a play on the words to the slogan from Lover's Lane(the couple who plays together, stays together).

The cast who shops for porn together, sleeps together. It was much funnier in the parking lot, but I still think it was worth repeating. There will be no sleeping with cast members on my part though, just to be clear.

Frustrated

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I hate this show. I really hate that I'm rehearsing for it even more. I keep trying to act like I'm excited to be there when I go to rehearsal, but actually, I can't wait for it to be done. The storyline, the characters, the music...it just can't be any worse.

The only redeeming quality of doing this show is that I have a lot of my friends in the cast with me. That's just a small ray of sunlight in the dark world of my rehearsals. I'm ready to be done with this show, and I just started rehearsals.

The obvious solution would be to quit and not worry about it anymore. My sense of responsibility won't allow me to do that though. I'm stuck for the next month wanting to drive nails in my eyes every night. I think I'm going to start drinking before I go to rehearsal from now on to make it more fun.

I'll Need Years of Therapy for This

I wasn't even going to write about this because it disturbs me so much. My sister told me it's too funny to not share, so I will relive this story once more, and never speak of it again.

It's unfortunate that I'm as old as I am, and still live with my parents. I'm bad with money though, and am rarely home, so I normally don't worry about it too much. My home is basically a place to sleep. Even though I've been talking about getting an apartment with a friend for awhile, I realized Thursday that I can't live here anymore.

On Thursday, I was cleaning the pool, and realized the water level was getting low. I turned on the hose to get some more water in it. Since I'm very absent minded, I forgot I left the water on until a few hours later. By that point, the pool was filled almost to the very top. I figured it would evaporate, and decided against draining some of it out.

That night, like most nights, I couldn't fall asleep. I had things on my mind, and couldn't get my mind to stop wandering. As I was laying there, I heard water from the pool hitting the ground. I didn't feel like getting out of bed, so I was just going to ignore it. I figured I should check it out since I had overfilled the pool, and it would be my fault if something was wrong with it.

I got out of bed, and walked through the house to the back door. I then made the biggest mistake of my life. Yes, it sounds overly dramatic to say it was the biggest mistake of my life, but it really was. My life will never be the same from this.

I turned on the light on the deck at the same time I started to open the sliding glass door. There were my parents, on the deck, getting out of the pool after a night of clothing optional swimming. All I could think was, thank god I didn't put on my glasses when I got out of bed.

I was too embarrassed to say or do anything, so I simply turned off the light and went right back to bed. I've been trying to tell myself that it didn't really happen. I figured I could suppress the memory, but I can't. I think I'll have nightmares about this for years to come.

My Summer Goal

I'm a naturally pale as far as skin color is concerned. I'm the whitest white person you'll ever encounter during the winter. Luckily for me, I tan really easily. I become a little obsessive about it though.
Every summer, one of the girls I work with and I have a contest to see who can get the tannest(I'm not sure if tannest is a real word). She is beating me right now, but just barely. I planned to spend the whole day in the pool tomorrow, just to catch up, but it's supposed to rain.
My obsession actually started a few years ago. I was doing Joseph! and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I was told early on that one of my costumes required me to not wear a shirt. I put up a huge fuss, and eventually was allowed a tank top. I was worried about being under stage lights with my pale skin though, so I got a membership to a tanner.
I went every day for a month. People kept telling me to stop going, I was getting freakishly dark. I didn't believe them though, and kept frying my skin. When I look back at pictures from that time, I laugh at how nasty my skin looked. Someone should have planned an intervention.
I know that I'm not going to age well. I love the sun too much. I think this will be the last summer I worry about getting tan. The health benefits of shielding your skin from the sun are far better then having slightly darker skin for a few months a year.

Cinnamon Rolls

We've all done stupid things in our lives. I just think that I've done more stupid things then most people. I just don't realize the consequences of my actions till it's too late. It's something I've never outgrown, and probably never will.

In high school, the cooks would sometimes make cinnamon rolls to go with lunch. I'm not a huge fan of cinnamon rolls, but I will eat them from time to time if they're around. The rolls were huge, about the size of the smaller size of paper plates...well they were square, and the plates are round, so they weren't actually the same same size, but they covered about the same surface area.

One day, my freshman year of high school, people were making fun of my mouth for being so big during lunch. One of the many reasons I hate my mouth to this day. Anyhow, the people at my table started taking bets if I could fit a whole cinnamon roll in my mouth. I was kind of a looser my freshman year, and didn't really have any friends, so I was willing to do just about anything to make friends. They're squishy, and my mouth is huge, so I knew I could do it. Plus, I didn't want to disappoint everyone at the table and not try.

It took some pushing and stretching of my mouth, but I managed to do it. It was one of the proudest moments of my life. For about 2 seconds, I sat there with my cheecks puffed out, thinking how cool I was. Then I realized the problem. I couldn't chew, and I couldn't spit it out.

There was no extra room in my mouth to chew, and I couldn't get my fingers in my mouth to pull it back out. It was stuck. Having that much food in your mouth causes you to salivate excessively. I started to drool a little bit, and then started to choke.

I was worried that if I was choking, I would throw up, but there wouldn't be anywhere for it to go, so I would die. Wouldn't that be embarrassing. Eventually, it started to break down some in my mouth, and I was able to chew it a little. I swallowed it, but not before grossing out everyone sitting near me. My plan to impress everyone and make new friends completely backfired.

That Person

There's nothing worse then trying to have good time, and some random person has to ruin it for you. If you can't handle your liquor, don't drink it.

Last night, I went to the Junction with Lisa for the first time in a month. Even though I'm not really 100% better, I wanted to sing some karaoke. Lisa and I are hateful bitches when we go to the bar. We always make fun of any mulletts, whores, or public displays of drunkenness we may encounter.

There was a lady who was probably in her late 40's-early 50's there, wearing a skirt that barely covered her crotch, and a top that showed her stomach. She was missing some teeth, and was terribly drunk. Of course she was the topic of our conversation when we saw her. The only problem was that she was sitting directly behind me.

Don't be fooled into thinking that because someone is sitting near us, we will not talk about them. No, if you can't look in a mirror before you leave the house, you deserve to be talked about. She was a friendly drunk girl though, and wouldn't leave us alone.

I made the mistake of trying to sing some Meatloaf. Sore throat, dry contacts, and me not really knowing the song as well as I thought, made for an interesting performance. Our new lady friend loved it though. She kept telling me how someone must have been grabbing my balls while I was singing for me to be able to hit those high notes. Then she offered to grab my balls herself if I should need the help on any other songs. I declined the offer.

Lisa and I were trying to ignore her, so she kept tapping me on the shoulder so she could let me know that she was staring at me. I told her that's great, and please don't touch me. I have never wanted to use Lysol like I did last night after she touched me. Unfortunately, she forgot that I asked her not to touch me and kept tapping my shoulder to talk to me.

Lisa and I were having a field day talking about this woman, and laughing quite hysterically. I made a comment about her, and we both started laughing. The next thing we know, she leans over to our table laughing as well, and asks what's so funny. She wants to hear the joke too. I figured that since we were laughing at her, and she already was laughing, without even knowing why, there was no need to fill her in.

Eventually she left, and Lisa and I had a good hour to ourselves. We've been discussing finding a new bar though. Sad, but true. We can't handle crazy people like that anymore. I think people just want to talk to us because we're so nice.

The Final Time...To Date

Just a quick warning. If you ever write a post about car accidents, don't look for pictures online. You'll find some of the most horrifying images you can imagine.

This is my third close call with death. It happened when I was a junior in high school. My sister, Megan's, boyfriend had just bought a new car, and wanted to show it off. He was over and decided to go to 7-11. Molly and I were never ones to pass up an opportunity to get food, so we tagged along, much to the chagrin of Meg-Negs, I'm sure.

Anyhow, I used to have this problem with not wanting to get dressed. I would go places in my pajamas all the time if I was already in them. I guess it's kind of trashy, but I was young, and didn't know any better. That night was the last time I ever went anywhere in my pj's.

Brynn wanted to see if he could get his car to 100. The problem was, we were on a stretch of road that's only a mile long before it ends in a ditch. He didn't realize that. Molly and I were in the backseat, and didn't have our seatbelts on, which is something I've never done since that day, not wear a seatbelt.

We hit 100, and were cruising along when we realized the road was ending soon, and there was no way we were going to stop in time. Brynn tried to turn the corner doing about 60, and was doing a fairly good job, before he lost control of the car. There was just enough room for a car between the electrical box and street sign on the opposite side of the road, and we somehow ended up between them, on a 45 degree angle with the ditch.

I remember thinking I had died when we stopped. Everything went white for a second, I'm not sure if I passed out, or if the impact just overloaded my senses. I didn't die though. We made sure everyone was okay, before we tried to get out of the car.

We literally had to climb out, since the car was at such an angle, and we couldn't get out the side that was down more in fear the car would roll on top of us. It wasn't until after I was standing on the side of the road in my pajamas that I realized I didn't have my glasses anymore.

Here I was, without any real clothes, freezing, and unable to see. Molly got a black eye in the ordeal, and I had severe whiplash. The funny thing about whiplash to me, is that they will give people neck braces. I didn't get one because I didn't go to the doctor, since there isn't really any treatment for it. I find it funny that they give you a brace to keep you from moving your neck, when in all actuality, I couldn't move my neck if I wanted to. For a week straight, I was always looking straight forward. People made so much fun of me for it.

The morale is, don't speed. If you do speed, make sure everyone has a seatbelt on. That night could have ended very badly. Also, if you're going to go somewhere in the middle of the night in February, make sure you dress for it. Pajamas should be worn to bed only. Unless you're going to a costume party, in which case, that is the only exception, but bring a coat.

The Second Time

When my mom in high school and/or college, she was on a water ballet team(now called synchronized swimming). Since parents like to push their hobbies onto their children when they are still impressionable, I learned how to swim when I was 4 or 5. Since then, my mom has taught me the proper way to dive and do certain strokes. I can even float on my back and kick both legs in the air before gracefully sinking under, toes pointed the whole time. Random talents that I don't think many of you knew I have.

Anyhow, the point of all that is, that I am a very strong swimmer, and have been for most of my life. Most of my life isn't enough, since I almost drowned when I was a youngster.

My family was swimming at a family friend's house when I was 3 or 4. I had my inner tube, and was geeked to get in the water. The day was going without a hitch, until I decided to climb on the air mattress in the pool.

As I tried to get on, my inner tube came off. That's actually quite impressive because I was a fat little kid, and I'm not really sure how it was able to slip over my belly. It did though. I didn't worry too much about it because I was holding onto the mattress at the time.

Somehow, in my uncoordinated little kid state, I lost my grip, and sank to the bottom of the pool. People say your life passes before your eyes as you drown, but I don't remember that happening. Maybe because I hadn't really had much of a life at that point in time. All I remember is being on the bottom of the pool thinking, this isn't good.

The next thing I knew, my brother was rescuing me. It sounds really heroic until you realize how he got me out of the pool. He grabbed me by my hair, and pulled me out of the water. Yes, I wanted to kill him at that moment. I wasn't sure which was worse, drowning in 4 feet of water, or having my entire body weight being supported by my hair.

The First Time

The first time is always the most memorable. After awhile, things just start to run together, and the novelty is gone. Such is true with near death experiences. I've had a few of them in my life, so I'll take the remainder of the week to write about them...unless I get bored with it, in which case, there won't be anymore of them posted after tonight.

In my life, I've had at least 4 dog bites that should have required medical attention, even though I never once saw a doctor for them. I'm hard core like that. Bring on the pain. I think the first time I was ever bit by a dog was probably the most traumatic for me.

For two years, my family lived in the ghetto of Illinois. Aurora was a good spot for drug deals, gang shootings, and and the occasional murder. In fact, the year after my family moved away, a dead body was found in the dumpster directly across the street from our house. Oh the memories.

The last two additions of siblings were added to my family when we lived in that house, a result of passionate love making from my parents. I think they became a little overwhelmed with eight children and hoped for something to happen to a few of us. It would lessen their financial load significantly, afterall.

Our house bordered a parking lot. The house on the corner of the parking lot furthest from our house was notoriously known for having pit bulls. I can only speculate that those dogs were used for fighting since they were the most unsocial dogs I've ever encountered, and animal control made more then one visit there to pick up dogs during our two year stay there.

The dogs would sometimes break their chains and terrorize the dogs, children, and adults of the neighborhood before the owners were able to restore peace. One day, when I was about 3 years old, my worst fear/my parent's solution to financial strain, came true. One of the pit bulls was in the yard while I was outside.

I reacted as any panicked child would, I ran. Of course, my legs were about 16 inches long, and about 18 inches wide with baby fat at the time, so I didn't get very far before the dog caught me. I didn't get very far before he caught me, and pulled me to the ground by my arm. The only thing that saved my life that day was one of my siblings, who was in the yard with me, and a good deal faster then me. I can't remember which one it was, but the dog let go of me to chase them. My brother or sister made it into the house safely, and I ran the opposite way into the back door.

I was lucky that my skin wasn't even broken. I was bruised, but in one piece. Just imagine what the world would have been like if one of it's treasures had been mindlessly eaten by a rabid dog at the age of 3.

I've Seen Better Days

In the words of everyone's favorite little orphaned red-head, the sun'll come out, tomorrow. Unfortunately for me, it's been raining today, which means there will be even higher amounts of mold in the air and my allergies will continue to make me want to die.

What started as a bad allergy outbreak on Thursday, has turned into a full fledged sinus infection, complete with sinus headaches and a fever that spikes every hour. I've been a world class bitch today to anyone who was unfortunate enough to encounter me because I feel so miserable.

I've always thought that anyone who said their head felt like it was going to explode was just being over dramatic when they had a head cold. Actually, I still think they are, because, I don't think it's possible, and how do they know what it's going to feel like before it explodes. However, I did have the thought that my sinuses may rupture when I was driving home last night. Ahh, summer.

I've been medicated with a cocktail of allergy medicine, pain medicine, and antibiotics today. I'm a little worried that the combination may cause some sort of reaction in my body, and I may not wake up tomorrow, but that would be okay with me. See, I also started rehearsals for a show yesterday.

Yes, I'm in Rocky Horror, a show that I've never found entertaining, or had any desire to be involved with. Tomorrow night is my first music rehearsal, and the fact that I'm barely able to speak should make for some interesting high notes.

So yes Annie, the sun will come out tomorrow, but not all of us are going to be swept away into a big mansion with our own maids and have everything be okay. You can keep singing about your wonderful tomorrows, but until there is a good frost, my tomorrows are going to be filled with mucus and pain.

Fishin'

I went fishing this weekend up at my brother in law's cabin. I love to fish, and it was a good excuse to try out my new fishing pole. The thing is, I fish illegally. That is, I never get a fishing license.

I got one on the way up on Saturday though. I'm no longer an illegal fisher. I was actually really excited about it. I had a secret fantasy that the DNR would stop us on our boat and demand our licenses. I would pull mine out, and he would apologize, and I would threaten to sue him for harassment because I'm left handed.

The DNR didn't stop us, but that's actually a good thing. See, I was flashing my license all over the cabin before we got in the boat. I decided last minute to change into my swim suit, and left my wallet behind. My wallet had the license in it.

I didn't feel like going back to the cabin to get it, so once again, I was an illegal fisherman. I wasn't really though. In the 4 hours I spent on the boat, I didn't catch any fish. I did get a good tan though, so it wasn't a total loss.

A Little Disappointed

I went to see Superman Returns last night. I tried not to have high expectations, because I knew I would be let down if I did. In all honesty, I was very impatient during the previews because I just wanted the movie to start. I'm a huge Superman fan, so I guess I should have known that this movie would let me down.

Actually, the movie is really good. It's got good action sequences, amusing story line, and it has all my favorite characters. I would recommend it to anyone thinking about watching it, but there were some things that really bothered me.

I won't spoil the movie for anyone, but I'm really pissed at the writers of this movie. They took HUGE creative liberties, and it kind of tainted the image of Superman. Whatever.

Kate Bosworth really bugged me. How she got the part of Lois Lane is beyond me. She had no spunk, no chemistry with Superman, and mediocre acting. What would Terri Hatcher say?

The costumes and props in this movie really irked me. I couldn't figure out what decade the movie was supposed to be set in. They had cars from the 50's, clothes from the 80's and 30's, and camera phones. Huh? What was going on with that? Kitty's clothes were excusable since she was just a nut, but that was about it. They should have made it an androgynous time line.

There were very few scenes with Clark Kent as Clark, and not Superman. That bothered me. I love to watch the interactions with Clark and Lois in previous movies. Yet, you didn't get the awkward feel for the two of them as Lois pinned for Superman in front of Clark. Actually, it's probably better that it happened that way. Kate couldn't have pulled it off anyways.

Like I said though, it is a good movie for those who want to be entertained for 2.5 hours. I just was a little jaded by small things. I would see it again though.

Fireworks

Two nights ago, I went to watch the fourth of July fireworks. That's right, I watched them on the third, because that's how they do it in the BC. I was really excited to go because this year, they introduced the beer tent.
It seems hard to believe that an event as fraught with white trash people as the Bay City fireworks display has never before had a beer tent, but I try not to dwell on past travesties. My brother, sister, and I ditched the rest of the family as soon as we got there to hit up the tent.
We were standing around talking, when two people came up and started to talk to us.
We tried to ignore them at first, but you can only ignore drunk people for so long before you have to get involved in a conversation with them. The thing is, I'm not sure if they were really drunk or not.
They tried to tell us they were from Russia, and were using really bad Russian accents. When my brother started to ask them about Russia, since he's been there a few times, they suddenly changed their story and said they were from a county just outside of Russia.
They told us their names, but I don't remember what they were, and don't really care, since I'm sure that was a lie too. Like I said, they were acting drunk, but when we would stop our conversation, they would jump in and ask questions about things we had been talking about a few minutes before, completely out of character for someone who is unable to stand up.
Whatever was going on, these people weirded me out. I had my sister take a picture of them on her phone so I could show them to everyone, but my computer won't let me upload. Son of a. I guess the world will never be able to see what these two looked like.

It Isn't a Party Unless...

What an exciting night last night was. In the interest of having a post that is less then 20 pages long, I'll just include the highlights of my brother's wedding yesterday.
I am a drinker, make no mistake of that. I reserve liquor for special occasions though. Weddings fall into that category. The one thing that has always disappointed me with myself is my inability to do shots. Well, not anymore. My older brother taught me how to do shots yesterday without getting sick. He had a flask of whiskey with him, and we were doing shots in the bathroom of the church between the wedding and pictures. Those shots, coupled with the 20 jello shots and beer I had in the limo got me feeling really good before I even got to the reception.
I'm the first to admit that when I drink, I can get obnoxious. We were in the limo, and it seemed like a good idea to moon people as they drove by. The first time I tried, the only person who saw it was Stacy, Kyle's new wife. It helps if you're near the window. I mooned the next car, and they gave me the finger.
We got to the reception, and all was fine and good. However, I went outside at one point and ended up crying in my sister's car. Long story that I'm not getting into. I went back inside to dance.
Anyone who knows me, knows I don't dance unless I'm completely trashed. I was busting out the shopping cart, sprinkler, fax machine, and my extended family's favorite, the worm. I was amazing, but not really.
Next came the garter toss. My older brother and I had decided that no matter who caught the garter, we were going to end up on the floor fighting each other. We thought it would be funnier if we got more people involved. We told all the groomsmen, and we ended up in a pile on the floor hitting each other. We're so mature, it's unbelievable.
The next part requires a little explaining. Last weekend, one of Stacy's friends told her, among other things, that she was making a mistake marring my brother and she shouldn't go through with it. One thing to keep in mind, if you piss someone off, make sure they aren't marring into a family with 8 siblings. We spent the week trying to decide what to do to her, and after a botched attempt to vandalize her car earlier in the week, decided we would just make her life miserable at the reception.
At one point, my sister pushed me as hard as she could into her on the dance floor. I laughed and went back over to my sister, and she did it again. Everyone knew what was going on, and one of the guys she was with tried to start a fight with me. My dad jumped in and told him to leave me alone, or he would be kicked out. I was really hoping for the fight though.
It all worked out well though because my sister had a nice conversation with her a little later, and the girl left crying. Got to love my family.
So yes, we are white trash, but it sure does make life more fun to live like that.