There's a man at the public library asking the very young man at the IT help desk to help him find books on "how to start a business, or like, an LLC". He came up to him like he knew him saying "heeeyyyy mannn whatsup?!?" and for a second I thought that they knew each other. But then after zoning back out for a few minutes I got yanked back into my eavesdropping hearing Future Businessowner saying "I just feel like I should ask you guys that are like... for lack of a... like 'nerds', ya know?" To which the (admittedly nerdy looking) clerk went "oh sure sure". Bless him. I wonder if he likes this job? I also genuinely wonder what business this guy is planning to start and why he would extend his quest for entrepreneurial advice towards hardcopy texts vs, oh I don't know, THE INTERNET. Where everything is readily available and spelled out for you. Chat GPT could have handled his inquiry tidily, and potentially steered him away and down a more reasonable path by now. What the fuck do I know, maybe weird dudes with black baggy denim and kerchiefs hanging out of their back pockets make the best businessmen. I'm the loser blogging at the library.
Tuesday, October 22, 2024
Shhhh Sh.
Whenever I read my old blog posts, it sounds like someone is YELLING. The entire thing is narrated in my mind by a shrill, high-volume, Gilbert Gottfried-esque (aging myself) voice. The content is cringe enough as it is. We're all idiots until we turn thirty-five, and then we're just cagier, more subdued idiots. The content is cringe but ALSO the tone, and the cadence, and the intimation that there is a giant spotlight turned on us, and that society at large should be so lucky to hear our innermost monologues, wrought with narcissism and dripping with entitlement.
About 345 years has passed since my last blog post. I've gone from nursing a hangover at a desk with McDonalds to successfully nursing and subsequently weaning three children, who I NEVER feed McDonalds because, you know, "toxins". In fact, I'm going to go a step further and just attribute all of the nearly unreadable historical blog post to being riddled with toxins. Toxins out the ears. Everyone knows that too much processed food makes your writing absolute tripe.
I floated the idea of attending a writers workshop to my husband yesterday evening. This was a mistake because he now has in his mind the figment that I may indeed ATTEND a writers conference. Now, every time we go to have an argument (that I start) about my unfulfilled career and mid-life existential crisis, he can say something along the lines of "what about that writers workshop you were going to go to??". Fuck. Not to generalize, but everything I say out loud to anyone after 10pm is such horseshit.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Eye exam aka very dignified mugging
Can someone please riddle me this:
1) why do all optometrists have the same quiet, soothing, almost hypnotic tone of voice?
2) WHY THE FUCK does it cost $85.00 to have my fucking eyes checked?? They didn't even change!! Why was I charged $50.00 for a contact lens fitting when he just gave me a pair of what I already had?? I put them in myself for heavens sake, where's MY fifty dollars for 'fitting' myself?? Ugh.
3) why am I so timid and pathetic that I hand over my card without a WORD despite knowing that I literally cannot afford NOT to question this fee. I am broke as shit. Is it politeness? It is pride and not wanting to our myself as the near- bankrupt bag lady that I am? Or is it just plain old fashioned, home grown stupidity? I am inclined to say a combination of the three.
In closing: balls. That was a pricey 30 minutes.
1) why do all optometrists have the same quiet, soothing, almost hypnotic tone of voice?
2) WHY THE FUCK does it cost $85.00 to have my fucking eyes checked?? They didn't even change!! Why was I charged $50.00 for a contact lens fitting when he just gave me a pair of what I already had?? I put them in myself for heavens sake, where's MY fifty dollars for 'fitting' myself?? Ugh.
3) why am I so timid and pathetic that I hand over my card without a WORD despite knowing that I literally cannot afford NOT to question this fee. I am broke as shit. Is it politeness? It is pride and not wanting to our myself as the near- bankrupt bag lady that I am? Or is it just plain old fashioned, home grown stupidity? I am inclined to say a combination of the three.
In closing: balls. That was a pricey 30 minutes.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Fun Sexy Mystery Identity Game!
Guess that coworker:
WHO has individualized ring tones for everyone she knows alternating between motown, soul, and R&B songs?
WHO leaves their phone on the loudest volume setting and wanders off for 40 minutes at a time?
WHO gets more cell phone calls than anyone else in the office that I am aware of?
Answer to ALL of the above: the IT woman across the hall.
Sooooo glad it's Friday.
WHO has individualized ring tones for everyone she knows alternating between motown, soul, and R&B songs?
WHO leaves their phone on the loudest volume setting and wanders off for 40 minutes at a time?
WHO gets more cell phone calls than anyone else in the office that I am aware of?
Answer to ALL of the above: the IT woman across the hall.
Sooooo glad it's Friday.
Maybe this will help?
Lord knows I'm one of the laziest people I've ever encountered. Possibly having the bright idea of putting blogger on my phone will encourage me to be less of a useless twat in regards to blogging? Stranger things have happened.
Pros of instant blog access via my space phone:
1) I can post AnYtImE @nYpLaCe!!1
Har har since I have a laptop and have never once set aside my US weekly at the airport and been like 'at laaaaast I can post from anywhere! (sung in style of Etta James, fyi)'
2) as a result of my FIERCELY boring job, my internal monologue is on overdrive (NOT as sexy as it sounds [to me]) and this might serve as an immediate outlet for some of that. Can't be healthy to store much of that for too long. How much pondering of various gossip column blind items should one really keep in storage in ones head, right? Courtney Stodden, where do you buy your clothes and how do your parents reeeeally feel about you? Groundbreaking shit like that. Duh.
3) I can blog in waiting rooms and appear as though I have a sexy and vibrant texting-life!
4) I am borderline sexually attracted to my space phone and any excuse to use it more fulfills me, ok? And draw something and words with friends stress me out because I get involved in too many games and it's like a to-do list that I TRY to get to buy CAN'T and then it's been SO LONG that there's all this stigma around it and I feel like I have to update ALL 21 games at once and WHO HAS THE TIME?!?! ...so less stressful, is what I'm trying to say.
CONS:
1) I make crazy typos that normally I would fix but obviously will overlook on my phone because, idk, imho wtf cares? Jk lol but Srsly typos. Galore.
2) odds of boyfriend catching on to the fact that I casually recreationally blog are exponentially increased and potential for embarrassment is raised accordingly. Which isn't really a valid concern since I embarrass myself in front of him so regularly that my effort to conceal my ridiculous resting state of existence has been flagging lately.
Ah, love (read: cohabitation), how you change me. To be lazier.
WHOO FOR BLOGGER ON MY PHONE!
Pros of instant blog access via my space phone:
1) I can post AnYtImE @nYpLaCe!!1
Har har since I have a laptop and have never once set aside my US weekly at the airport and been like 'at laaaaast I can post from anywhere! (sung in style of Etta James, fyi)'
2) as a result of my FIERCELY boring job, my internal monologue is on overdrive (NOT as sexy as it sounds [to me]) and this might serve as an immediate outlet for some of that. Can't be healthy to store much of that for too long. How much pondering of various gossip column blind items should one really keep in storage in ones head, right? Courtney Stodden, where do you buy your clothes and how do your parents reeeeally feel about you? Groundbreaking shit like that. Duh.
3) I can blog in waiting rooms and appear as though I have a sexy and vibrant texting-life!
4) I am borderline sexually attracted to my space phone and any excuse to use it more fulfills me, ok? And draw something and words with friends stress me out because I get involved in too many games and it's like a to-do list that I TRY to get to buy CAN'T and then it's been SO LONG that there's all this stigma around it and I feel like I have to update ALL 21 games at once and WHO HAS THE TIME?!?! ...so less stressful, is what I'm trying to say.
CONS:
1) I make crazy typos that normally I would fix but obviously will overlook on my phone because, idk, imho wtf cares? Jk lol but Srsly typos. Galore.
2) odds of boyfriend catching on to the fact that I casually recreationally blog are exponentially increased and potential for embarrassment is raised accordingly. Which isn't really a valid concern since I embarrass myself in front of him so regularly that my effort to conceal my ridiculous resting state of existence has been flagging lately.
Ah, love (read: cohabitation), how you change me. To be lazier.
WHOO FOR BLOGGER ON MY PHONE!
Maybe next time I'll brush my top AND bottom teeth. Gettin' hot under the collar NOW, aren't you?
Guess I'm lookin' pretty well-coiffed today, kiddos.
Make my way from my apartment on the twelth floor down to the lobby, gripping coffee in one unmanicured claw, and carrying a large empty tote bag (because there are approximately 1945826876283 pieces of tupperware and travel coffee mugs scattered around my office that WILL make it BACK to aforementioned apartment. today. so. help. me. god.).
Step out door, jaywalk across cross to the park.
Slight side-step around very tottery-looking homeless man which was in fact a side-step towards very skeezy looking skateboarder/hitchhiker/graffiti artist/alternative lifestyle individual who promptly asked me in an extremely congenial tone "Hey, can I become your sex slave?"
No sir, the position has been filled (haa..) but thank you for noticing that I used not one but TWO different shades of eye shadow today.
Pretty well-coiffed INDEED.
Make my way from my apartment on the twelth floor down to the lobby, gripping coffee in one unmanicured claw, and carrying a large empty tote bag (because there are approximately 1945826876283 pieces of tupperware and travel coffee mugs scattered around my office that WILL make it BACK to aforementioned apartment. today. so. help. me. god.).
Step out door,
Slight side-step around very tottery-looking homeless man which was in fact a side-step towards very skeezy looking skateboarder/hitchhiker/graffiti artist/alternative lifestyle individual who promptly asked me in an extremely congenial tone "Hey, can I become your sex slave?"
No sir, the position has been filled (haa..) but thank you for noticing that I used not one but TWO different shades of eye shadow today.
Pretty well-coiffed INDEED.
Friday, January 27, 2012
New Year, Same Inadequacies
It's comforting to see that I cannot keep a blog current for the life of me - comforting in the sense that this failure to commit to journal-keeping is a lifelong one for this moi, and nothing is more comforting than familiarity and self-recognition. I remember coming across my childhood diary recently, and the posts would be along the lines of:
July 9, age 6 : do NOT read this!!!! very PRIVIT! KEEP OUT THAT MEENS YOU!
*six months pass*
Jan 15, age 7: SNOW DAY! WHAT SHUD I DO TODAY DIARIE? PLAY IN THE SNOW OK? BYE! SEE YOU TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!
*two years pass*
March 12, age 9: Wow, I'm terrible at this, will definitely do better starting NOW.
...And then I never wrote again.
So while my utter lack of any determination and habit-forming whatsoever is disheartening by even a nine-year-old's standards, at least I'm reliable. Right? Right.
Things I am excited about as of this damn second:
1) My hair is in an enormous beehive hairdo today, which gives me about 3 extra inches of intimidating height, which, if I ever leave my office EVER today, I will use to intimidate some peon that failed to empty half the aerosol contents of a tresemme can onto their gourd today. Suckers.
2) Said hair, currently brown (auburn, if we're being fancy. which I am...not) will supposedly be strawberry blonde this time Monday. I'm a hair model/guinea pig!! Turns out one of the perks of a long term, super monogamous relationship is that you can fuck around with your general appearance and, if the relationship is a good one, snag the other person on the technicality that they have to keep loving you regardless of how fucked up you look. TRICK'S ON YOU, BOYFRIEND (isn't is always?). A stylist named Cassidy (which is really confusing since the email I've been corresponding with "her" at is michaeljolene@emailemailemail.email) is using me as a hair model to up her status from new talent to permanent stylist at a reputable salon in the ATL. I have no idea how it's going to come out, but I crave change so whatever. Excitement persists.
3) It's Friday-- and I swear to God my job IS cushy and NOT demanding but if I have to be here one more second under the florescent lights I'm going to lose mah mind. I don't even have plans this weekend, and I'm excited, that's what a terrible employee I am. That was a lie (terrible blogger too! who knew?! (answer: everyone)) I do have plans but they're horribly coulply and inclusive and I have enough self-loathing and loathing of smug couples in general that I don't care to outline them here. Suffice to say, the primary components are brunch and picture-hanging.... Now aren't we all glad that's the extent of the detail? Moral of story: looking forward to this work week ending.
4) This is like a half-item because I got paid today and I keep thinking 'whoooOOO! Pay DAY! ShopPING!!!1' (I don't know why my brain has infuriating syllabic inflection but that's the honest-to-god truth) but then I immediately follow that up with the rememberance that my entire paycheck (the whoooooooooole shebang, kiddos) is already spoken for by bills and whatnot. So, you know, fuck. Fuck adulthood.
5) I remembered to blog! This is the most exciting one and I'm going to validate my self-satisfaction by hitting the big sexy "PUBLISH POST" button. ...YES without proof-reading. Why do you have to ruin everything, brain?
Off to wear sunglasses by the sunny apartment windows and WILL the temperature to go up 30 degrees.
xoxoxo
Koko
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