Go Down with the Ship

Everyone (well, most everyone) knows what a ‘ship’ is these days.  A ship is when fans pair their favorite characters together and make them a couple.  Regardless of gender, BTW.  The idea of ships is not in and of itself; it’s just hysterically funny.  Some of the ships people do come up with, it’s like, “You had nothing better to do, so you did this.”

My younger sister had no idea what a ship was, so I decided to ‘educate’ her.  She probably still hates me for it now.  Here is a list of some of the ships that have been done, and I will asterisk the ones my sister hates.

  1. Cherik – Charles and Erik (X-Men)
  2. Ereri – Eren and Levi (Attack on Titan)
  3. McDanno – McGarrett and Danny (Hawaii Five-0)
  4. Jelsa – Jack Frost and Elsa (The Guardians and Frozen)
  5. Jonerys – Jon Snow and Daenerys (Game of Thrones)
  6. Olicity – Oliver and Felicity (Arrow)
  7. Stony – Steve and Tony (The Avengers)*
  8. Bagginshield or Thilbo – Thorin and Bilbo (The Hobbit)*
  9. Stucky – Steve and Bucky (Captain America)
  10. Thorki – Thor and Loki (Thor)*
  11. Lokane – Loki and Jane (Thor: The Dark World)
  12. Larcy – Loki and Darcy (Thor)
  13. Johnlock – John Watson and Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock)

There are a few other ones from Middle Earth that don’t have official names, but they exist, and piss my sister off so much.  Except for maybe the Boromir/Eowyn one.  She likes to entertain the possibilities.

The funny aspect is that there are people out there who spend a large portion of their day thinking this sh*t up and putting it out on the internet.  It’s hysterical!  I’m laughing my *ss off right now!  We all have characters we really like and we want to see them happy in their shows, or movies, or whatever.  But, really?  Putting them in impossible relationships like that?  Your life is sad, sad, sad if you’re thinking about that.  And you probably don’t have a relationship of your own if you’re worried about somebody else’s.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Rise & Sh-! Shut Up!

I’m sure I’m not the only person who is feeling tired this time of year.  Every day when my alarm goes off at 6:00, I yawn, stretch, and try to wake myself up as much as possible.  Once I get out of my bed, it’s easier.

My younger sister jokes that I’m an old lady now because of my self-imposed curfew.  I’m showered and all ready for bed and even climbing into bed a little after 9:00.  But, I stay up till a little after 10:00 playing Temple Run 2 on my Kindle, then reading whatever book catches my fancy from my shelf.  Then, the Melatonin kicks in, the yawns increase, and the sleep mask comes down.

The only days I don’t have to set an alarm (unless I’ve got someplace to be) are Saturdays and Sundays.  I sleep like a dead person and rise whenever I feel like it (but always before 11:00).  However, on the days I do have get up early, I wish instead to be like the puppy above, all cuddly and snug in my bed.  Maybe next week, since it’s a holiday week…

And on that note, it’s been real!

God Save the Teacher (& Me)

It’s been a while since I wrote anything about my class, or what we’ve been doing so far.  At the moment, we’re in our third module, which we will complete officially tomorrow.  It was a little rough; we had a different teacher, but she was a gem, and took pity on us when it came to the work.  And I must thank God for her patience, for the stupid questions did not cease.

There is one girl in my class who has about as much brain between her ears as a politician has a heart in his body.  Nunce.  Every single time she hands in something to be graded, she asks our teacher, “Am I failing?”

Our teacher will say, “Yes, you are… just kidding!”

“Oh, NO!” my fellow student will moan in a sing-song fashion before my teacher can say she’s joking.  And she’s done that since day one of class.  Sometimes twice in the same day.  Finally, last week, I had enough.  My teacher was grading her test, she asked the same question, got the same answer, and proceeded with the same response.

I asked, “Why do ask the same question when you know she’s going to mess with you?”  She got no retort or defense back.  We’ll be staying with this teacher for the next module which begins next week (Thanksgiving week).  Thankfully, the class they are starting out with is one I transferred out of, so I don’t have to make an appearance at all next week.  Yay!  And then I got out of another class and lowered my tuition some more.  Which means when those classes arrive, I can either have extra free time, or work a little more.  Which sometimes, I would rather do than share the same classroom with her.

And on that note, it’s been real!

If Looks Could Kill

We’ve all heard the saying, ‘if looks could kill’ to describe how somebody is looking at another.  My face has been described as a pallet of emotions.  Sometimes, I’m good at hiding my feelings and not letting somebody know how much I despise them.  Other times, I’m sure they take a step back as I slowly start to melt their skin like acid with just my glare.  I have certain expressions for certain people and sometimes, that’s the only one they see (probably because they’re always *ssholes).  These are my expressions and they apply to these people.

Mildly bored: my eyebrows quirk ever so slightly and my mouth struggles to not open in a yawn.  A tend to lean back in a sort of stretch in my seat, or on my heels, and I heave a tired sigh.  This applies to people who take a long, Long, LONG time to ask for something.  That and people who don’t speak very good English, and they don’t bother to try to enunciate.  Perfect example would be an Asian patient (who is already demanding and imagines things) a few nights ago at my office.  She called and I had a difficult time hearing her and she talked fast, even though I told her to repeat and slow down.

Slightly amused: my lips twitch as I attempt not to openly smirk.  My eyes crinkle a little and the muscles in my cheeks also quiver.  I tend to lean forward, a show of interest.  This expression happens when I see something that tickles my funny bone; usually with children who do something silly, or adults who do something stupid.  I usually make this face when people sit themselves at the restaurant, ignoring my sign (which, in turn, makes me ignore them).

Irritated: my brows furrow and my mouth twists up.  My eyes narrow and my facial muscles pinch.  I kind of look like a sexy lemon.  My shoulders will tense up, and I’m like a bow string pulled taught.  I tend to get this way with people who are brick walls and don’t want to comprehend the words that I am saying.  Patients who want what they want when they want it, usually illicit this response from me.  Them, and the customers at my restaurant who challenge me whenever I lay down the law.  Like the Incredible Bulk this past weekend.  He was definitely getting the irritated look.

Sadly sad: my eyes droop and the corners of my lips take a downward turn.  Almost all the muscles of my face seem to be pulled down by gravity.  My shoulders sag and my pupils become red/wet.  I never cry in public, but sometimes, when things are really sh*tty, I look like I’m about to.  I’m sure I looked like that when a patient yelled at me in front of my manager and said I was terrible at my job, even though this was the first time we had interacted with each other.  Real tears came after I was in the office and could call her a fat cow.

Flirty: I haven’t been flirty in a while, but whenever I am, my one eyebrow goes up, and my mouth forms a smirk.  My head tilts casually to one side, exposing my neck a little bit; the universal sign of interest.  As I said, I’m not normally flirty.  The only times I am is if an attractive or chivalrous man pays me a compliment and talks to me.  I did that when a middle-aged, but handsome man asked me if the little flowers he had brought for a first date were appropriate.  I said it was very gentlemanly of him, and that I liked it, complete with flirty expression and head tilt.

Everyone has those faces they make for certain people, particular situations, or just expressing what they feel inside.  Sometimes, people are good at wearing masks and keeping themselves hidden from the rest of the world; and others are an open book.  Which one are you?

And on that note, it’s been real!

Disorder in the House!

This past weekend, I legitimately and truly and really wanted to kill somebody.  Not my coworkers, but the customers (as per usual).  Friday night, I arrived at 5:00 for my shift and we were already pretty busy.  I got situated and then I had Granny and Paps come up and say they had eight people.  All my big tables were already taken, so they asked me to push two tables (in two different sections) together to seat them.  Now, if you work in a restaurant, joining two tables belonging to two separate servers for one party is a b*tch.  Why?  Who the f*ck is going to get it?!  So, I got my manager’s permission and pushed them together.  They brought in five noisy children, and one of the tables near them, moved to a different one.  This irritated me and threw the server off.  From there, everyone kept coming in and nobody was leaving.

I soon found myself on a wait and people couldn’t grasp that it was almost forty minutes.  Then, I got the Incredible Bulk dragging himself through the door.  I told him the wait time and he really gave me a hard time.  He wanted to go at the end of a long table, which was occupied at the other end.  I told him we could not do that and that I had a reservation going there.  “But I’ll be gone in twenty minutes.”  I just gave him a look and told him I couldn’t do that.  “Well, I want to speak to a manager because I don’t understand why.”

“Yeah, because you’ve got blubber for a brain,” I muttered to myself as I walked behind the bar to grab the floor manager.  I grabbed him and explained the situation to him.  He raised his eyebrow and affirmed what I already knew.  “Well, can you tell him that?  Because he doesn’t seem to want to take no from me.”

“Alright.  Where is he?” my manager asked.

“Turn around.  You can’t miss him,” I sarcastically responded as I started to walk away.  He looked, caught sight of him, faced me and mouthed, ‘what the f*ck?!’  I just nodded and went back to my post.  The rest of the night, people kept saying they didn’t see the sign in the atrium, so they sat themselves at dirty tables, and I didn’t bother with them.  I got angrier as the night went on and people kept being idiots.

My coworkers all said, “Wow!  You’re really pissed off.  I’ve never seen you this pissed off.”  I was.  It hadn’t even really cleared out that much when I was let go at a quarter to ten.

Saturday night, I was semi-hopeful, but definitely not optimistic.  Not long after arriving, I got a walk in eleven top and a seven top.  I guess calling to check if we even have room is out of the question.  Then, one of the servers was late, so I had to divide her section between the other (already busy) three.  Needless to say, I was not interested in taking shit from people after Friday night.  Thankfully, Saturday night was not as bad as Friday night.  My coworkers commented on that, and how I didn’t look like I wanted to decapitate somebody.  That was good.  We’ll see how this weekend goes.

And on that note, it’s been real!

I’m Batman! No, I’m not. I’m Sick

I just did a post about me being sick a few days ago. Well, I’m still not out of the woods.  In fact, the woods are still thick around me.  I went to sleep one night a day or two ago, and woke up at 1:30 in the morning to a very wet left eye.  I grabbed my eye drops, went to the bathroom, and saw my pink eye AGAIN!  I was so mad.  I couldn’t go to school that day and I had a test, and several quizzes to take, and I had homework to turn in.  I was righteously pissed.

My nose continues to drain, but doesn’t clear up.  I feel like a clogged drain that only allows a few drops to get through at a time.  On top of that, I got smacked in the face with a wall of steam from dinner several days ago, and burned my one nostril.  But, with my cold, I keep rubbing it every time I try to make it easier for myself to breathe.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought I was looking at somebody who might have lived in medieval Europe, and was suffering from a crippling disease.  I had patches under my eyes, red corneas, a red and irritated nose and chapped lips.  And a gravelly voice.  At least I had that, right?  I can order my siblings around and sound intimidating.  Until they tell me I sound like I’m gargling marbles.  Then, I start rattling off Batman lines so they can laugh at me, and I can laugh at me.  A little bit if self-deprecation prevents arrogance.

I can only hope that with the complete destruction of my eye makeup and sleep masks, the pink eye will go away.  I can only hope that using Vix will nix my cough and cold.  After that, I can cross my fingers, knock on wood, and pray to a higher power that I don’t get sick again (with anything) for a very long time.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Socialism: Socially Broken

Yesterday, I watched a video on Youtube of a reporter asking college students if they would accept socialism in America, and if they thought it would be good.  Like the dumb snowflakes they were, they answered, “Yes, socialism gives everything to the populace and closes the gaps between the rich and the poor.”  Okay…  Have you never studied History?  Oh, that’s right!  The public school system hides the truth about History.  Let me give you a break down.

Socialism was invented by a man named Karl Marx in 1848, but the seeds for socialism were planted during the French Revolution.  The French populace demanded the monarchy be torn down and equality instated.  But what is equality?  The French people believed what Robespierre and the Committee of Public Safety told them, but they were still subjugated to the horror of the Reign of Terror just like the aristocrats.  There was no equality.  There was only the illusion of equality.  The only thing that was equal, was that they were all equally dead.

Anyway, socialism was officially created by Marx on 1848, and the definition of socialism is as follows: ‘a political and economic theory of social organization that advocates that the means of production, distribution, and exchange should be owned or regulated by the community as a whole.’  Now, the idea of socialism is an impossibility.  Why?  Because not everyone works the same, and if the lazy clunk over there gets the same as the hard working Joe on this side, then how is that fair to Joe?  As I have said, in my office, I work harder than the other girl at the front when I was there all the time.  In a ‘fair’ society, she should not have been making the same or receiving the same benefits if she wasn’t putting in the proper effort for it.  Effort+time+labor=rewards.  Effort: the amount of physicality you put into doing something.  Time: the amount of minutes or hours involved in completing something.  Labor: the amount of pencil pushing, data shifting, or heavy lifting you did to finish something.  Rewards: the golden carrot at the end of the stick.

Another fact, did you know that the Russians, more specifically, the Bolsheviks, took socialism and turned it into communism?  They took the outline of socialism left by Marx and others, tweaked it, changed the name, and created communism.  Now, the definition of communism is this: ‘a political theory derived from Karl Marx, advocating class war and leading to a society in which all property is publicly owned and each person works and is paid according to their abilities and needs.’  Alright, again, the common people did not benefit from this system.  The ones in power held the reigns (and the money and the weapons).  See?  These systems pretend to promote equality of wealth and production and rights, but they are really lying to the people.  And that is what is happening to these college students.  They are being led down the primrose path, and being promised a world where everybody eats rainbows and poops butterflies.  It’s just not possible!  Don’t you think, if everyone was meant to live equally in this world, a higher power would give handouts like the government?  No.

Certain jobs get paid certain wages; and certain hit it big because they were smart (or cheated, that happens too), and some people don’t because they aren’t that smart, or don’t want to take the risk.  These factors come into play, but nobody is ever willing to accept their lot in life.  They look at another, more successful person and instead of thinking, ‘I should strive to work harder so I can be like him’, they think, ‘He should be made to give me his money so he can more like me.’  Handouts, welfare, and social security are not helping this country or society as a whole.  Instead, they are making it harder for young people to get started in life, with their careers, and it is deluding the youngest generation into believing that these are the norms, and therefore, acceptable.  Do yourself a favor: don’t believe in socialism.  Remember what happened to France?  Chaos.  Remember what happened to Communist Russia?  Chaos.  Is that word in your future?

And on that note, it’s been real!

Call Me Later; I’m Dead

I really seem to get sick easy.  No clue why that is.  I got sick about a month and a half ago with chills, scratchy throat, runny nose and feeling like my head was about to explode.  It was not fun.  And even after my other ailments had been and gone, I still had a runny nose for at least three weeks after that.  Again, NOT FUN!

So this past Sunday evening, my one nostril started running.  I was all like, “This again?!”  I went to bed that night knowing I was going to be sick the next day.  Sure enough, I woke up at 4:30 with a head that was full of built up pressure, and a full-on dripping snozel.  Oh, joy!  Anyway, I still got myself out of bed at 6:00 when my alarm went off, and dragged my *ss to school, did that till after 1:00 in the afternoon, then came home to study, then went to work at 5:00.

One of my coworkers, when she found out I was sick, asked me, “Why are you here?”  In the nicest possible way.  I worked, shivered, blew my nose, and was more than happy to come home when everybody was done.  I ate my mom’s famous rice and beans, took a hot shower, swallowed a Motrin, and crawled into bed like a slug.  My sister kept telling me to just to call my teacher and tell her I was sick.  I said if I was still feeling sh*tty the next day, I would go in, be miserable (without being b*tchy), and have her send me home after she had marked my attendance for the day.  See?  I would like people to know that I at least put the effort in.

However, I was feeling marginally better when I woke up the next day.  I actually slept well through the night, and felt well enough to go to school, do my prophy competence, do a large bulk of homework, and try to start our scheduling program without the shivers of the previous day.  I did, however, still have that pesky, waterworks nose.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Swivel, Girl! Swivel!

My chair rolls and swivels.  It’s literally the best.  I can sitting in the operatory, waiting for my doctor, and if the patient doesn’t want to talk, or I don’t want to talk, I swivel and roll.  At the front (when I have the displeasure of working up there), my high-backed chair can spin around so fast, I can make myself dizzy.  At school, I have a little roller stool that I can use when I’m bored/done with everything and am waiting for others to finish.  That and reading on my phone (not going to lie).

Chairs can say something.  The chair that sits in front of this laptop, has been with me for almost ten years.  I remember scraping together quarters, dimes, and nickels in order to pay for it.  It is breaking and peeling and the arms are almost ragged now.  Every piece of knitwear that I have catches on it and pulls.

The chair tells a story.  It has been with me for three novels, a set of short mystery stories, two term papers, a screenwriting class, and now, a new novel.  This chair his swiveled and rolled with me through a lot.  And I will be very sad when the time finally comes to give it up.

And on that note, it’s been real!