Fate, fat, me, and a new health regimen

I assume that the Fates are against me no matter what I try to do, but I will stick to this new "diet" plan and I will at least look good in something from Maurices this Saturday for my "birthday" gathering. In keeping with trying to lose weight (which is an ongoing struggle involving me, my parents, and good food) I've promised myself that this summer I will try to eat healthy as a means to at least not gain anymore than I already have. Exercise is beyond me since I'm a lazy ass and my school schedule doesn't leave much room for me to do much physical activities.

I did however, promise my friend that we would go on her three mile, treacherous journey in the park every weekend. I don't know if I have just signed my death certificate or not, cause I'm at least able to make it around and back alive without wheezing.

My exercise plan has always been, no exercise more vigorous than walking up and down a set of stairs.

But anyway, I started my day by eating breakfast, since apparently eating breakfast is a good way to make sure you don't eat too much dinner, which is a good way of making sure that you can digest everything throughout the day instead of cramming it all together at night and hoping that something digests before you go to sleep. And so, even though it wasn't a big breakfast, I still ate something: yogurt. Yeah, I know, it's not a big deal and nothing to write home about. But I've gotten so used to not eating breakfast that I now feel queasy because I did eat breakfast today.

It's not part of my usual consumption so it's starting to confuse my body.

Following breakfast, I had put together a few things for lunch: some leftover pasta from Red Beans and Bayou Grill, a small dose of peanut butter, and one apple. I managed to finish eighty percent of my apple with the peanut butter smeared on before I began to feel full. I forced myself to finish the rest of my apple and a good portion of the peanut butter and I now continue to feel queasy. I didn't even bother to touch the leftover pasta and may end up throwing that, plus the rest of the portion of my leftovers that I left at home, away into the trash.

Peanut butter is freakishly filling and I think I know how I'm going to control my diet now. I don't think that peanut butter is going to completely fatten me up if I eat it all the time, but I know I'll probably end up getting sick of it easily.

This only means that I need to come up with other lunch ideas.

In other news, I'm turning twenty-five next week and I feel much older than that.

In school I've just begun the "new semester" but the summer semester really doesn't start until two weeks from today. But I'm already in class and cramming new material and listening to noisy classmates talk about nothing in particular. Every so often, someone will yell out something random and only one out of ten times is it actually something humorous enough to make me chuckle to myself. Other times it's just annoying and you don't know whether to laugh or to roll your eyes; I probably do the latter without realizing it.

But it's okay, because I'm good at selective hearing and I sometimes chose to think that I don't know or care about what's going on anyway. Life in class is beginning anew once again, and it just feels like the end is not very far away even though there is still so much to go through.

Anyway, well, there's little else to mention. My new "diet" plan is going to annoy me and make me cranky, because they always do. On top of that, my friend has always been so stuck on her ideas that her ideas of a good "diet" regimen is going to get on my nerves. Friends who are head strong are so hard to talk to if you really don't want to piss them off.

Self-discovery and some reminiscing of a sort

It's Memorial Day weekend and school starts again tomorrow. I've yet to even think about how I'm going to go about organizing my class work this summer, but I know it's going to be vigorous.

I'm turning twenty five next week and I lose my insurance with my parents. Fortunately for me, I've bought myself some more of that nifty insurance stuff that I probably don't even need anyway because I rarely get myself seriously hurt or sick enough that I have to see a doctor. I see my doctor maybe once a year for annual check-ups. Otherwise, I don't even see the doctor's parking lot at all for a long time. My immune system is in tip-top shape, and I can take care of myself just fine when I get sick.

But back to my utterly insignificant ramblings...

A lot of thoughts come into your mind when you least expect them to. For me, they happen when you've got a lot to think about and a lot of time to let your mind think. Random things come to mind whenever I simply sit and play Minesweeper on the computer. Even more random thoughts happen as I'm showering.

Worse yet, today I've realized just how much of a caring and compassionate person that I... well, that I'm not.

It's Memorial Day weekend and it's a chance for all families to get together, visit the graves and have a picnic or barbeque. I go walking with my friend, then I visit my grandparents' graves with my family and everything feels so obligated and meaningless.

For a few dull, odd minutes, my parents debated over which side of grandma's nameplate to stand on to be correct. To the side, an old man stood before another grave and bowed his head in respect as he was probably thinking about old times and remembering things about his deceased loved one. Back to grandma's grave, my parents are now discussing my grandmother's true age because, after all, let's face it, all Asian women who'd come to America will falsify their age at some point in time. And apparently, my grandmother was one of them.

Dad wanted to make sure we knew that.

After our simple little visit, we walked away and my parents end up discussing why there's a particular tombstone that is shaped oddly like a bench with only one name inscribed into it. My dad conveniently points out that another grave nearby belongs to the guy of the same name on the bench and Mom wonders why someone would want to put a bench in the middle of a cemetery anyway.

Dad says that people donate to the funeral home and get their names carved in places. For instance, some trees were donated and little plaques are set up next to them to indicate exactly who had done this nice deed for the home.

So there's my lovely little life in a nutshell of reminiscing about deceased loved ones. To make matters more interesting, the one major thing that I actually notice about my grandfather's grave when he'd visited him (at another cemetery earlier) was that his tombstone was leaning very far forward. But it's okay, right? Because all of the other tombstones are also leaning very far forward.

Dad says it's to make them look ancient or to depict which graves are older than others.

But you know, I'm not sure how much of what Dad said today was really just guesses, cause I'm sure landscaping has a lot to do with how the tombstones are put down...

But anyway, enough about depressing cemetery conversation between my parents.

In a nutshell, it just seems as if I found the conversation much more amusing over realizing that Memorial Day is supposed to have meaning behind it. Instead, I find no meaning behind anything anymore.

I've discussed this with my friend. There are no holidays out there that have any meaning for me. None of them actually do anything for me at all. Nothing holds meaning for me and it's not just about the holidays or whatnot.

I've found that sometimes I can be completely indifferent to my friends' cries for attention and help. Sometimes whenever they talk, I just don't care. Whenever some other acquaintances seem to have issues piling up in their laps, I just don't care. Whenever people I know seem to be breaking down and having a hard time... well, again, I simply just don't care.

I don't care enough to listen and I don't care enough to offer my condolences, nonetheless offer a shoulder to cry on or a false promise of "Let me know what I can do to help you." Because sometimes those words are said hollowly anyway and you expect that 99 percent of the time, you won't be told if there's really something that you can do to help.

I don't offer any of that because I know for a fact that there is never anything that can be done to help or to make things better.

And in my mind, people love to lay out their problems to the world anyway. I've always said it: People love to glorify their misery. Drama is a true best friend to many, especially a lot of women. It's a sad thing to admit, but it's the truth. But don't get me started on that soap box of opinions.

Simply put, I'm just a horrible, horrible little person.

I mean, just the other day, I was talking to my best friend and telling her about that guy I have a crush on who has a girlfriend. I'm a bad person when it comes to dating and I'm not quite sure that I'll ever be ready to take on relationships of the romantic, intimate kind. But my exact words to my best friend had been, "Is it bad that I'm waiting for them to break up?"

Oh yea, I'm a horrible person. I really do like him, but I barely know him. And I think he's a great guy and because he has a girlfriend, I don't ever want to hear about it. I just like to hear that he's single and willing to hang out with friends regularly. But I just don't like hearing about his girlfriend and I'm wanting them to break up. The most horrible part of this situation, however, is the fact that even if he breaks up, he won't be interested in dating me and if he is, I don't know how I owuld handle it.

I definitely won't be the one doing anything to make things happen.

So, in the end, I'm just a horrible, unsympathetic, incompassionate jerk. It's great, we have so much fun being assholes.

The last final this semester and an Elvis impersonator

I worked as a bartender on Saturday and ended up watching the most interesting form of entertainment for a group of fifty chiropractors. After listening to a short speech by Miss Kansas, of whom I did not recognize, but thought had the weirdest looking skirt and funniest looking crown, the group got an Elvis impersonator to perform for them.

So I usually have no problems with entertainment and singing entertainment. Not everyone is good, but he wasn't a bad singer. And I don't really know Elvis that well, but I've heard his music even if I'm not really a fan.

However, where my bar was set up including how the stage was set up, I had the most unfortunate angle to view the Elvis impersonator and his... less than left to the imagination pants. Spotlights and white clothing equals a bad combination. Let's just say I spent a good amount of time averting my eyes from him. And those pants should never go into fashion again.

Yea... I'm not that much of a fan of the guy, impersonator or not.

But enough of that.

This morning I'm taking my last final of the semester. Whoop-dee, it's almost over... well, for a few days and then school starts up again in a week. All is cool, but because my boss found out that I have a week off, I'm practically working every day.

That's fine, my friend will be home soon and I'll hopefully get to hang out with her at least once before the summer semester starts. On top of that, my twenty-fifth is coming up in two weeks, right dab smack in the middle of the two week pre-session of a vigorous class. And then I lose my insurance coverage, so I need to get something new from the school.

At least there is ONE thing to look forward to: I've asked my friend to make me a strawberry cake with cream cheese frosting as her birthday present to me and she agreed. I'll be happily chowing down on that and, well, being happy. I love cake and I haven't had strawberry cake in a while. This will be nice.

There are other things I'd love to get as well, but that's for the future when we all actually have money. Right now, we just perservere with what we have.

You know those days I used to sleep...

So it's Mother's Day and I can't quite feel my arms or my back. I hate to say things like this when it's a significant holiday, but I am seriously in lots of pain at the moment. My arms are literally threatening to fall off and I'm wondering if it isn't because I stayed up most of the night to do homework...

Well, it's my own fault really. If I hadn't spent all Friday being a bum then I could've been done with my take home final already. Instead, I spent my day half working on it and half playing around in virtual reality. And now I've barely skimmed the bulk of my work. On top of that I have a test tomorrow that I'm freaking out about for some reason despite it being mostly a common sense subject and I won't have time the rest of today to do any studying nonetheless finish that take home final.

And then there're all my other finals to think about. I shall not be sleeping because only one of those finals are even remotely dreamably doable.

Yea... Sleep will not be in my near future but at least I get to take four days to myself the following week. Although I did stupidly inform my boss that I would be available during that time. That just means that I'm asking to be put to work which I am definitely not.

I'm so tired and cranky right now.

But enough of the woes...

Plans... but not really

I actually have a Friday off from work this week, which I would be completely ecstatic about if I didn't have finals coming up. It also doesn't help that the one person I would normally be hanging out with is in Louisiana right now. I can't exactly take my own road trip to Louisiana just to hang out for the night. By the time I get there, I'll have to turn around and come right back because even with Friday night off, I still have to work on Saturday.

So as a means to remain as productive as possible, I've made my own stay-at-home plans to sit in one place all night and do some studying. I have one take home final to finish up, which will probably take a couple hours cause it's really long. And then I have a test to skim notes for on Monday. And then Finals will begin to conquer my life next week.

I've already told my friends that I won't be very present in the following week... or for the next few weeks... months... even the rest of the year. I will be buried beneath text books and they'll be wondering whether or not I'm still alive enough to hang out. And if so, will I become cranky all of a sudden.

At work, I've been run ragged from those groups of people who think that banquet servers are like magic and can teleport from one end of the hallway to another within seconds. And I swear, I think one of those women last night thought I had more than two hands, because she kept trying to hand me her dirty plate even though I was already carrying more than my share of stuff.

People never cease to amuse me.

And then there are those coworkers who simply don't know when to stop talking about their personal lives. Well, it's fine if you want to vent... but really now, some times too much information is too much information and I'd rather not be listening to certain things. Makes you feel a little awkard. And then you don't know what to say and silence ensues.

And then we change the subject to "So I saw the funniest thing yesterday" to which you try and claw at some random humorous event you may or may not have seen, be it yesterday or not. It's okay, amusing things happen regularly. There's bound to be something you can tell your friends about to make the awkward silence go away before someone shoots someone else.

In other news, my dad has gone into ultra monetary nag mode once again and I have to start thinking about how I shall pay both my parents back for all the money I've spent of their's since the beginning of my life. It's like he thinks that I can just pull some wads of hundred dollar bills out of my ass and hand it to him. Really now, my dead beat job doesn't even pay enough for me to be handing out hundreds of dollars... even for fun.

And my younger brother who makes more money than I do at his job thinks that I have money to "pay back" my parents for stuff. I really, really wanted to punch him. I think I wanted to punch him more when he asked me whether or not I'm sure I'd be finding a job after this Med Tech program is over and done with. You know, because according to him, all med techs do the exact same thing anyway, so why do we need so many of them? Two can handle a lab right? I really, really, really about punched him then.

The little prick has always been a bit arrogant just because he has a nice full-time job with good benefits and I don't. I guess he forgot to consider that he had gotten his nice little full-time job with good benefits through connection. Basically, my older brother said, let him work here... and they did. My older brother never did something like that for me. The little prick didn't even have to go for an interview and was hired on because he was recommended by one of company's favorite whipping boys.

And me... through connection, I got a dead beat, $2.35/hr plus gratuities job where you can either have no hours, be run to death, or sit around and make money. Take your pick, I hate working with customers and pretending that I'm a cheery, happy-go-lucky person, but it's all I got right now. I'm not ungrateful that my uncle connected me, but this is not exactly a real job, and I didn't even have an interview. And so I'm not going around gloating about it as if I were better than my brother who has a nicer job.

I really, really feel like hitting him sometimes.

But anyway, all of this is relative.

In a perfect life, my ideal job would be where I sit at my desk all day long, write stories, review all sorts of stuff and make money from it. I like to just sit and write, but of course, this isn't a perfect world and if it were, it would probably bore me to death.

I'm so, so hard to please despite being an easily amused person-- those are two different things anyway.

The near future and a funny smell

This break room literally reeks of formaldehyde from the gross anatomy class and it's giving me a headache.

Aside from that, I really should be studying for my finals and other tests upcoming, but my mind is kind of preoccupied with nothing right now. I'm just on that downslope we like to call "Slacker Hell" wherein I try to come up with all reasons possible to procrastinate and put off staring at endless slides of notes and study questions.

It's horrible, but it's nearing the end of the semester and I tend to do things like that because... well, it feels easier. I've lost steam these past few weeks and really, all I want to do is sit around and do nothing.

Granted, I've been forcing myself to study and I've been finishing up all the homework and take-home finals I have, but that doesn't mean that studying for upcoming finals are going to be less arduous. I'm straining and I hate it.

At home, my mind is more interested in playing an endless game of Trivial Pursuit with my brother even though we've probably already recycled all the answer three times. Movies are more enticing and I'm sitting through reruns of the first three seasons of FREINDS just because I can-- not to say I'm not enjoying it since FRIENDS is one of my favorite series.

And I think that I may have even ticked off one of my friends because I've been ignoring her on account of my being buried in work and suddenly I want to go out and do something. But lo and behold, she's leaving town-- of which she's probably already told me ten times plus when she would be leaving and I just kept forgetting.

I am a great friend!

The smell of formaldehyde isn't getting any better and there doesn't seem to be a way to fix it.

And lately, I've been having the weirdest dreams about a certain somebody that I would rather not make public. Let's just say that I'm relieved that at least not all of them are... well, rated adult. Oh my god! Don't tell me that stupid virgin sexual frustration is finally catching up with me...

Okay, TMI. I'm sorry. Just ignore all of that. I think when I stop staring at endless med tech notes and school work, I'll be able to come back into reality and be a normal person. Well, at least I'll be able to be the person I was before I... crossed further into the realm of insanity. So everyone just has to deal with it for another year. And then after that, you only have to deal with my usual abnormal self.

In other news, I think I'm botching up my "Musings of a Random Girl" series by going too far overboard into the reality sector. I need to take out at least 60% of the truths in those short stories and replace them some fiction, otherwise, I'm just ranting and ranting is always best left for the blogs. In the story, it needs to be more than just me screaming injustices at the world.

In fact, the first two shorts of "Musings" are actually perfect with the exception of those too close to personal reality stuff. Without them, the stories would probably be left without substance, but I don't want to use too much of personal reality to write them. I'd rather make up half of it like I sort of did with the second story. So a lot of rewriting will be in order even though those are the official first stories I have ever finished to the end without it being part of a school assignment a la Creative Writing class which did nothing to boost my ego and did nothing to improve my writing skills except to tell me that I'm wordy.

Oh yea... I'm extremely wordy. I'm random, I ramble, I'm wordy, and I take forever to get to the point if there ever was one. It can't be helped, but it's going to be the death of me. I was alway hoping that I could balance out wordy with humor, but I'm not sure if it works that way. We'll just have to see.

I have a friend who has agreed to read my two finished products and critique them harshly. So if I come back to the blog with a depressing, virtually tear-stained post, that will be why.

Anyway, I have a lab practical to do in about forty-five minutes; and so in order for life to continue on, I must prevail. Or whatever. I'm a geek and I pathetically admit that I'm a loser too.

None of the above has anything to do with anything, and now I'm just rambling even more.