Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween!  Created by the talented knife-wielding Laurel

Laaaazy weekend

My friend came in from New York this weekend, so there was a lot of food, booze, and football (aka awesome) but not so much hijinks.  I’ll have to get on that.  Saw lots of folks Friday night at Revolution, which was pretty groovy.  I think I made some new friends outside when I was chewing, although I don’t actually recall most of the night.  Pretty sure I left my pants on though. 

But apparently my new friends weren’t entertaining enough, as I tried to reconnect with everyone in my phone via drunk texts.  Suppose it’s good to know some of them are still alive.  Came as a bit of a surprise with a few, honestly.

The night ended with me curled up on a faux kangaroo rug in front of a roaring fire.  Fuckin’ aboriginal, eh?

Video: Pinheads & Patriots

Hahaha srsly though what small group of people would want 20 copies of the same book, even if it wasn’t shit?  It’d make more sense to send a variety, even if it was all republican tripe.

As long as you’re not eyeing your neighbor’s donkey…

God’s willing to be a little chill about the whole stealing issue, it seems.  Hey, following 90% of the commandments is still an A, right?

When I started working at the bookstore, my manager told me the most commonly stolen book was the Bible.  But that seems a little silly now, doesn’t it?  And yet I found proof of a stolen Bible yesterday, and if that’s not enough concrete evidence of the veracity of my manager’s claim, this New York Times article backs me up.

I gotta be honest – people who come into the store looking for Christian inspirational shit and Bibles are disproportionately some of the most self righteous fucks I’ve ever seen.  Oh, I’m sorry, we only have six editions of the King James Bible and that’s not enough for you to choose from now, huh?  But ok, ok, it’s my job so I can try to find what you’re looking for and order it…but did you know we sell something like ten million different copies of the Bible?  Sorry if I can’t find a pocket-sized one with gilded pages and large font for under $10 like the one you fucking bought in 1980. 

And then when you can’t deliver exactly what they’re looking for down to the bloody margin width they go off into tongues and pray at me.  “Oh Lord bless this wicked nation, bless this wicked nation, that doesn’t even offer your Word in stores anymore, and bless this poor child who can’t even help me find your good Word, Lord…blah blah jebus blah blah…”  Yeah you’re right woman, we’re definitely satanic, with only 20 Bibles over there on the shelf to choose from. 

Jesus fucking Darwin.  

My bones will be like STEEL

Last night drinking a beer at home alone with my parents, gram turns to me and says, “Oh I saw something on the news about drinking beer every day, Caitlyn…they say it’s good for you!”

Awesome.  Glad all the news channels love these lead stories about beer and other delicious drugs.  Thank you unreplicated popular media study for validating my alcoholism in my grandmother’s eyes.   

Apparently, a nutrition study at Cambridge found that the silicon in beer helps prevent bone loss in women.  Silicon: tits, tech, and Tecate.  Who knew one element could offer so much joy?

Professor Jonathan Powell claims, “Our research shows that the absorption rate of silicon from beer is the highest of any foodstuff.”  One pint a day is supposed to do the trick; but, hey, I don’t want a broken hip at eighty because of osteoporosis, so better to be safe than sorry and drink…oh, a little more than a pint a day.

Bears

Had a dream last night about being raped by a bear… am a little uncertain if my subconscious is hung up on football or the Mormonts.  Perhaps both. 

Funny story: Couldn’t find my Bears jersey yesterday (tragedy!), so I asked my friend to see if I had left it at her place.  She found it on her back porch, where it had been sitting for a week, along with my pants.  Don’t remember taking my pants off at all…

Not funny story: A Storm of Swords.

Monies!

It’s been a good night.  I finally filed my taxes 6 months later and will get $51 back!

But more importantly, the Bears won tonight!  And not only that they won me $50!  And with a lot less effort than filing my taxes took :-)

Also my 8 and 9 year old niece and nephew now know what a lesbian is, and my niece thinks Justin Bieber’s a girl. 

It’s been a good night.

An attempt at catharsis

In honour of George R. R. Martin, I feel compelled to list some sad things:

Tornadoes.

The White Sox 2011 season.

Killing a puppy.

Running out of good beer.

Cops.

Failing a test.

Childhood leukemia.

Creationists.

Racial inequality.

Cancellation of Star Trek after only 3 seasons.

Bad sunburn.

Grossly unequal distribution of wealth.

Things can’t go faster than light.  Probably.

Fundamentalism.

Innocent victims of war.

Stores don’t generally sell DDD bras.

National disinterest in space exploration.

Animal cruelty.

AIDS.

Bugs on me.

Rape.

Strawberry ice cream with real pieces of strawberries in it.

World poverty.

Allergies to cats.
The ending of childhood.
Loneliness.
Rain on your wedding day.
Multiple sclerosis.
A bad toothache.
Cork in your wine.
Spilling red wine all over a new shirt because there was cork in it.
Break ups.
Failing a test.
Dreams being crushed.
Borders going out of business.
A store closing right when you get there.
Boring porn.
People who don't support a woman's right to choose.
Mechanical pencils that keep breaking.
People who can't alphabetize.
The 2000 US presidential election.
Genocide.
Car accidents.
Friends moving away.
Constipation.
The Black Death.
Domestic abuse.
Bird tarsus so small.
No one wants to play beer pong.
Gas light on E.
Dehumanization of immigrant workers.
Marijuana's illegal.
Alzheimer's disease.
Losing all hope.

Yeah.

New SciFi!

Eee Amazon just informed me there’s a new book out by one of my all-time favourite authors!  (Thanks for nothing bookstore I work at.)  It’s called The Children of the Sky by Vernor Vinge, and it’s a sequel to A Fire Upon the Deep.  

Guess it was just released today so hopefully I will be able to stare at it longingly at work soon until I can afford to buy it on Amazon, as Amazon is still cheaper even with my 35% discount.  Honestly, I don’t remember all the much about the details of A Fire Upon the Deep, other than that is was some awesome space opera.  But the prequel to A Fire Upon the Deep, A Deepness in the Sky, is probably the best book that was ever written (in my expert opinion).  It even made me love a race of beings referred to as spiders.  Trust me, there’s got to be some seriously expert character-building by Vinge to make that happen.

Damn it feels good to be a gangsta

That ochem review I skipped Monday night for the Bears game?  Yeah, the test was tonight.  I finished in a half hour and got 101/100.  I wasn’t even aware there was extra credit on it. 

Now, at UC I was lucky to get a passing grade on a chemistry test with the curve.  So it’s not really me, just community college.  

But the most important lesson here: always ditch school for drinking and friends.  At least if you go to community college. 

More painful: OChem Review vs Da Bears

Yaaaaawn.  I may have just woken up from a four-hour nap.  Though most of the time I’m partying, when I’m not, I’m recovering from partying.  Sleeping half the day is just a surefire way to make sure I will be ready to party even harder the next time.  Still, I think I might just go back to sleep in ten minutes…but the next time…

Last night wasn’t supposed to be a party as much as an ochem review session.  But the Bears/Lions game was on, and as a Chicagoan, it would have been a moral crime for me to miss the game.  So I ditched ochem early, showed up at my buddy’s, grabbed some cab, and performed my civic duty.  It quickly became apparent that the shortest route to debauchery was to drink on every penalty.  Oh division rivalries.

Shortly after half time my newly engaged friends came over and we had champagne.  Unfortunately, the champagne stopped at the engagement, because there was nothing on television to celebrate.  Not long into the third quarter, the game quickly went from being entertaining to just holy whatthefuck.  They were the anti-Midas of the football world – everything the Bears touched turned to shit.  You wouldn’t even know it by looking at the stats of the game, but once we started to lose, it was like a condemned man being slowly tortured to death.  And it’s not even Cutler’s fault.  Other than him and Forte last night, the whole team just bloody sucked.  No receivers, no offensive line.  But we were thoughtful to Detroit – we allowed Jahvid Best to score an 88-yard touchdown, which is the longest run the Lions have had since fucking 1950.  Major facepalm.

Not quite as cute as a kitten.

A Good Story

Beyond all else, it is most important to do interesting things to entertain folks with good stories.
 

Did you projectile vomit into a crowd of people on the arm of your four-year crush while you were shit-faced at a bar?  Well, that would be unfortunate; but in retrospect, your phone now automatically completes any word starting with a “v” to “vomited everywhere :-(” and it’s a funny story!

Is your life all in a shambles because you spent four years writing twenty-five page papers about Star Trek and rape fantasies…which turned out not to contribute much to a career in science?  Well, but look at you kiddo, aren’t you a spunky little fighter who’s following their dreams – and think of the story (when you succeed!)!

Was last night the most uncomfortable lesbian blind date of your life (especially considering you’re not a lesbian)?  Hmm, well yes it was awkward and you could have been killed for spending the night at that woman’s apartment, but at least you got The L Word and a good story!

Once you’ve adopted the “It’s all for a good story” life motto, nothing can ever be done incorrectly again – even the gross, sad, and utterly bewildering parts.  Especially the gross, sad, and bewildering parts.  And let’s be honest, it’s a lot easier to royally fuck something up than to do it right anyway.

Epiphany

My name is Caitlyn, and I’m an alcoholic.  But that’s only the start of the fun.

I graduated from college about a year and a half ago…and am sleeping on one of several couches at my parents’ house right now.  One is a wide loveseat, but it’s too short to stretch out on, and the other is actually a couch, although it’s too narrow to snuggle with my body pillow.  Point:  I need to move out.

My college degree is useless, the economy sucks, and my dream job is in a subject I am not trained in anyway.  I am smart as a whip, overweight (although my tits are amazing), kinky as hell in bed, and extremely loyal to my friends.  I want to find love, but I don’t think my much older boyfriend does; and regardless, he confuses the hell out of me. 

I just spent ten minutes trying to fish the cork out of the wine I’m drinking, because this $2 bottle I just jacked from the basement is baffling me.  Because I’m already drunk.  Because I just got home from a bar and corkscrews are confusing. 

In my quest for a cork-less bit of wine I’m certain I’ve made too much noise, although at least I don’t think I’ve broken any furniture yet.  It’s not my fault my 89-year-old grandmother will likely wake up as I shuffle around her kitchen trying to find a way to pry the bottom of the cork out of this bottle.  But oh well, at least I got permission from my father to go out and be up this late.  Permission.  Did I mention I’m 23?

In conclusion, I vow to be out of this house by AUGUST 1, 2012.  That is the date to remember, folks.  Come along with me on my journey – as seen through merlot-tinted lenses – to freedom and/or poverty.  Likely poverty.