Mornings - Like Mondays, Only Worse.

So, I'm obviously not a fan of mornings at all. I'm sure those of you who are reading this probably know that. I am a vicious, evil, catty mess until I've either had a bath/shower or a caffeine jolt...or at least gotten a chance to move around a bit. You do not want to have a conversation with me if I've been up for less than a half an hour - which is why you should NEVER, under ANY circumstances, call me early in the morning or late at night. If you think I might be sleeping...don't do it.

My sister loves to tell this story to illustrate my morning evil...

She was finishing high school at Louisiana School at the time, and was home for the weekend. I was 2-3 years old. For some reason, everyone was gone. It was just she and I left home alone together...and it was in the morning.

I came into my kitchen as I usually did in the morning....wearing a bitchface and my pjs....and sat at the table.

My sister was new and didn't know the drill. She had no idea that I couldn't properly function without my morning hot chocolate. So she probably said something like, "Morning, Boober! Do you want some breakfast?"

I then probably gave her the death stare (which is like the bitchface if the bitchface were making a bitchface) and screeched, "I WANT MY HOT CHOCOLATE!!!!!!" - I was super charming as a child...really, I was.

So she proceeds to try to make my hot chocolate...first she used the wrong cup, so I had to correct her about that as well. I had to have it in my coffee mug with the bear on it. Always.

And it had to be the correct temperature, which meant there was a certain amount of time my mom would heat it up in the microwave, which Sara didn't know about, so first it was too hot and we were going to have to let it cool. After much crying and protesting and schooling, I finally got my hot chocolate.

Now, contrary to the way I am today in taking my sweet and precious time with food and beverage, I would GOOZLE my morning hot chocolate. I mean...me as a tiny two-year-old would gulp that stuff down without setting the mug down until it was all gone.

Then I'd of course get a horrible stomachache. So I'd put my head down on the table and moan and wail and writhe in agony. Sometimes I'd spew...but usually not. Then...once that passed...I'd jump down and be ready for the daily activities.

I guess my morning rituals have always been slightly off....

Which is why I don't get you morning people. How do you do it? What are you on? How do you wake up and immediately want to TCB? Making all kinds of noise and jumping right into work. Or worse...GETTING UP EARLIER THAN YOU HAVE TO so that you can do things like exercise or "enjoy the day"......

Umm..."enjoy the day" my ass. You know what makes an enjoyable day for me? Sleep. I don't want to get up at 5am so I can watch the news and see the sunrise. I see the sun SET every day, and it's just as marvelous. I can also see the news at night or in the afternoon, but ya know what? I don't watch it then either, because it effing sucks and is depressing, and if I wanted to be depressed all the time, I'd have chosen my other possible career paths of social work and counseling.

So yeah...share your secrets, Morning People. I need to know how you do it. But, in the meantime, don't mess with me in the morning. Especially on the road. I'm talking to you, bus drivers and others who think it's fun to pull out in front of the angry girl in the little car who is late for work and go five mph below the speed limit.

See? Less than a week and I've posted another entry. I'm trying! Still got lots to discuss, my dears. Stay tuned. And check this regularly...even if I don't put a Facebook link...because I don't always get to do that.

TV Dorkout

I have a love affair with certain TV shows.

When it comes to televised entertainment, I don't really have a type. There's no set formula that makes a show a favorite of mine. I like lots of different kinds.

But...seriously...how much better are your favorite shows on DVD?

I'm not one of those fancy pants people with a DVR. I'm talking about DVD. The disks. The tangible pieces of plastic that you own and keep on a shelf somewhere. That's the ticket. Not some file you have on a computer somewhere. Something that your visitors can peruse like a library of you. (I feel the same way about books.) They're conversation pieces. They're things you feel like you actually own because you can touch them. They don't live in a mystery ghost world of backslashes and code and numbers.

Anyway...I just got Lost season 4 on DVD. That's where I left off and never recovered. I got about halfway through season 4, then life happened and I missed a couple of consecutive episodes. Due to the fact that my job was my only real access to the Internets, it's not like I could watch the missed episodes online. I gave up. I forfeited. I waved the white flag to rabid Lostmania. And I didn't really have to deal with it too much because (for some reason) people weren't really talking about it for a while. It stopped being a major part of my life (I know that seriously sounds like the most losery thing you've ever heard, but if you think that's losery, you haven't been properly acquainted with Lost. There's serious emotional investment involved. Serious, traumatic shit that often feels personal - like it's happening to your family or something.)

But BOY OH BOY have people been talking about it lately. You've probably heard that it was just the big series finale. The last Lost EVAR! So I've had to try to avoid internet spoilers and friends' conversations and everything. So...I got tired of that and decided to pick up where I left off with it.

It's how I've watched the other episodes of Lost. I spend one smelly, greasy weekend sitting on my couch or in bed and doing nothing - no bathing, no chores, not even accepting phone calls...just Losting. It's easy to do. For Season 2, I literally watched the entire season, back-to-back episodes for like 20-something hours - over a full day. You can't stop. Even if you're tired, the show gets you so amped because there's ALWAYS something crazy happening that shocks the hell out of you.

It's ridiculous...I don't know if I'd recommend for anyone who has problems with addiction.

But yeah. I ordered my season 4, and it arrived yesterday (along with my new Sookie Stackhouse book, which I've already started reading). So now I've got some catching up to do. I'll have family in town for Memorial Day week(end), so as soon as the kiddies go to bed...late night Losting. And I won't stop until I catch up. Which reminds me....I'll need to order season 5 very, very soon.

Simon the Package

For any of you who don’t know me super well – I do most of my shopping online. When buying clothing online, I stick to places where I know my size. For everything else, it’s just so much easier.

You don’t have to talk to people. Some days, I really just don’t want to have to speak to a single person besides those I’ve chosen to have to speak to on a daily basis (even then…I don’t always want to talk to them either). Some days I want to read and watch TV and hang out outside and not utter a single word to anyone…not have to hear anyone’s bitching and whining, not have to engage in all those pre-mapped and unnecessary conversations.

“Hey…how are you?” “Good, how ‘bout yourself?” “Fine. How’s ____?” “_____ is doing really well.” “That’s great.” “Yeah. How’s your job?” “It’s alright. Yours?”

And it goes on like that without anyone really saying anything of any real substance. It’s generally pretty useless, right? Especially when it’s someone we see or talk with regularly. Same. Crap. All. The. Time. Which is why I like to have the occasional day of silence. It’s not because I’m training to be a monk or something. I just need an occasional break. And I’m not trying to act all high and mighty like I don’t initiate those exact same types of conversations. I do. All the time. Anything to avoid awkward silence.

Anyway, I’m getting off my intended topic for today, which is: shipping.

As a frequent online shopper, I get lots and lots of stuff shipped over to me. And let me just say that nothing makes me feel more like an excited little child than waiting to receive my recently-purchased goodies. From the moment I order something until the moment I’m holding it in my hot little hands, it feels just like Christmas - when you ask your parents a thousand times when you can open your presents. It’s a pretty good feeling, that excitement…

…just not when it lasts RIDICULOUSLY LONG! Seriously…I usually just have things shipped standard ground. It’s VERY hit or miss. Sometimes I’m shocked with how quickly I get things. Sometimes (through the technological wonder of package tracking) I find out that it’s been sitting in some warehouse in Dallas for a week and a half.

I realize all companies and government agencies that ship things are probably super efficient, and there are probably lots of variables that I’m unaware of because I don’t work there…but whenever I track a package and realize it hasn’t moved or even been scanned in several days…it sorta makes me wonder.

The poor little box…sitting in a dark corner all alone for days with no sunlight and only water and crusts of bread to survive on (just go with it). I imagine those places being like package prison. The little package (Let’s call him Simon), destined for my loving arms, is locked up for something that’s not his fault. It’s because I refused to pay eighty dollars for express shipping. So he sits, and he waits.

And I sit, and I wait.

Seriously, I understand that they’re probably delivering much more important things than my stupid new Sookie Stackhouse book. I realize they’re under lots of stress. I know Simon isn’t really sitting in there all alone…he’s probably surrounded by others just like him…

But they really need to get him the hell out of Dallas. I need to know what happens between Sookie and Eric!