Hidden Bad Habits

Anticipation

2011-07-12T21:34:00.001-04:00

Every door I go to open I dream you will be on the other side of.

You never are.

The Blues

2010-01-11T08:39:00.000-05:00

She let out a long, aggravated sigh and whispered her fears into her lover's cold ear. The secrets fell into his grave, where the seeds of insecurity blossomed into a garden of soliloquy. "Forever is a long time to be alone."

Merry Fucking Christmas

2009-12-21T12:12:00.003-05:00

Hey all,

I made level 80 like 2 months ago, and I switched to Horde. Yeah, I'm talking about WoW. Besides that, nothing is really going on.

I have a great job as an administrative assistant and I live in a great condo all by my lonesome. Love eludes me, but fun does not.

I miss you guys. I promise some new things will be coming from me soon.

Indy

World of World of Warcraft

2009-09-28T08:12:00.001-04:00

I have been playing WoW. I am already a level 50. I have no life, and I feel my brain melting into useless ooze.

Don't save me. This is awesome.

Gnome Rogues for the win.

Indy Gets Inked

2009-09-07T15:24:00.005-04:00

So, to celebrate my new-found freedom, (I totally rid myself the tinman and everything to do with him)I decided to get the tattoo I have been wanting for about 4 years. I know it's rather nerdy, but if you have been reading me for any period of time you would know that I am quite a nerd. My Star Wars and X-men paraphernalia shrine may be posted later.

Indy being a moron, trying to mask my excitement/fear.

Indy, and her artist, Puff, gearing up for the impending inkage.

I get grumpy when men unbutton my jeans

Almost done!

GOOMBA!

Puff was very professional, which I was hoping for considering he would be camping out by my snatch for a little bit. The piercer kept on hitting on me and telling me how hot it would be to pull down a girl's pants and a goomba be staring at him. He told me that, and every new person that walked in, about fifty times. He brought several people in while I was getting my tattoo done and saying "Isn't that hot". Finally Puff started getting pissed and apologized for his co-workers "Man-whoreness". I like Puff.

I am very happy with Mr.Goomba, and he is healing quite nicely. He is flaking a bit, but the scabbing and swelling was minimal. I love him. I love being single. Indy is well pleased.

Furious

2009-08-29T11:54:00.001-04:00

Do not fucking send my blog entries to my ex-boyfriends.

You would think this doesn't even need to be stated.

God, men are such cunts.

Maybe I Shouln't Drink Alone

2009-08-11T07:33:00.000-04:00

Her merlot lips wrapped around the filter of her cigarette, sucking in the heated nicotine and my complete attention. She was talking to a man in a blue blazer, and khaki pants.

I never could respect the blue sports coat with the gold buttons look. It is so department store. "Here I am, a wealthy man, walking off my yacht with my perfectly pressed khakis and boating shoes. Admire me and my superior sense of fashion." Anyone who admires a man for his fashion sense is admiring him for the wrong reason. No man understands fashion, he can just emulate it. This guy was no different. I was sure he subscribed to every man's magazine, washed his face with what Maxim told him to, and jerked off to blondes with fake tits. He was classic, and she was captivating.

He was talking, and she was smiling in between puffs of poison. I probably looked like such a creepster watching this couple. Here I was, some girl at the bar, watching some couple at the bar, yearning for what they had, or that's what it looked like I'm sure. In reality, I was there doing exactly what I wanted to be doing, drinking. I was innocently guzzling down my sugar-free Red Bull and vodkas while the aforementioned woman sat down a couple stools down from me. Before you begin to judge me, I was there celebrating my new found freedom of mankind. Not the whole human race, mind you, just the ones with penises. I digress; so the lady sat down, ordered her fancy water and opened up her compact.

You have got to be fucking kidding me, I thought to myself. The people of Charlotte can be repulsively wealthy. I am not just saying that because I am poor either. Charlotte is a banking city, which means bankers. Bankers mean assholes in navy blue sports coats and pretty ladies in slinky dresses drinking Perrier.

I watched her check her lipstick on her perfect lips. Her middle finger traced the perimeter of her flawless mouth and I thought for a moment how it must feel to be her. She wore an emerald dress that hugged every bit of her tall frame just tight enough to not be trashy. She had long wavy red hair and blemishless porcelain skin. Ginger is the new blonde, folks. How did having a mutant gene become cool? I guess she caught me looking at her, and she smiled at me. She asked me for a light, and I responded with the cliche that I didn't smoke. She nodded and continued to mouth her expensive green bottle of water. The guy came a couple moments later and ordered scotch. I rolled my eyes and asked for another drink. I can be such a bitch sometimes. The man grabbed the woman's chin and planted a small kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes for a second and slowly smiled. He let out a delicate sigh and told her she wass beautiful. I watched all of this while trying not to look like I was watching.

Indantatia, blogger and bar ninja.

I couldn't hear what he was telling her, but she seemed completely interested in everything he had to say. He seemed jittery and self conscious, while she emanated only poise and confidence. What the fuck did she see in him? He scratched the back of his neck as he said something, and they laughed together. He rubbed her leg, and she took another puff. By now I am a voyeur. There is no way they haven't noticed me watching them like a bad movie. I just couldn't help but wonder what the chemistry was between them. They seemed so different. He asked for the tab, and handed the redhead a fifty dollar bill. I remember thinking that two scotches and a Perrier should not require a fifty, but maybe he was trying to impress her. He walked to the restroom and she stuck the bill in her gold clutch. The bartender placed the tab on the counter, and the ginger smiled in acknowledgment. The gentleman returned and whispered something to her while throwing his card on top of the bar. The woman stood up, smashed her cigarette butt into the ashtray and said, "That will cost you a lot more."

The woman walked away and shortly after the bartender returned the card to the man. He left, looking somewhat defeated.

And I thought to myself, so that's how he did it. Only in Charlotte.

She Lives

2009-07-16T14:41:00.002-04:00

So, I'm alive and I promise I'm not homeless.

Tinman and I had a terible fight a couple weeks ago. It was loud and dramatic, but it brought out a lot of things that needed to be addressed. I never believed that arguing was good for a relationship until now.

I am staying with the tinman until next month when I will be moving in with a room mate. I'm not very excited, but at least I will have a space of my own.

Both of my jobs are doing well, and I have been without racial slurrs for quite some time.

I think that what I am experiencing is happiness, but I'm not too sure.

Oktoberfest

2009-06-25T09:52:00.003-04:00

I'm going.

I don't really want to go, since I'm not a big fan of beer or Germans, but I won't turn down a trip to Europe.

We will be going to Venice and France shortly after the beertivities. September will be a good month for me.

P.S I will be going with the Tinman. We kissed. We made up. He bought me a vibrator.

The world is right again.

Text Stalking

2009-06-08T23:48:00.003-04:00

Text from fired racist boss:

"Thanx for getting me out of a job that i hated anyway. it's a blessing."

You're welcome, bitch. Also, just in case you didn't know, this could be considered harassment and on top of getting you fired I could also strap a restraining order on you. You're 30. Grow up. It's fucking retail. You'll live. Stop text messaging me with your poor grammar and capitalization skills and find yourself another job. Since you handed the keys to our regional and walked out of the building before she could fire you, you technically quit. This means you can't collect unemployment like I am sure you were hoping you could file for tomorrow. Life sucks when you don't think before you act or speak. I will see you in hell. We will both be there. Unfortunately for you I will not be in the racist section, but we both do qualify for the B for Bitch area. I'll keep a seat warm for you.

P.S thanks(x) for all the hours I get because I have to cover for your missing spot.

Indy is Making a Comeback

2009-06-05T15:03:00.000-04:00

My boss called me a Spic.

I got her fired today.

he he he

Worrier

2009-06-01T09:56:00.003-04:00

So I worked around 60 hours last week. I have been juggling two jobs and a couple other things going on in my life. I feel far beyond exhausted and I feel as if I am growing rather depressed. I miss Gainesville. I do not miss BB, just Gainesville. I feel very lonely in Charlotte and I feel I have failed my two objectives for coming here. I moved here to be closer with my brother and his family. He and I haven't had a relationship since he got married ten years ago. Since I have moved here I feel we have only grown more distant as his wife and I do not get along at all. I also moved here to free myself financially of the debt I accrued with BB. I have only grown more into debt. My relationship with the Tinman is doing well, but I fear that he may be tiring of me. My health issues of last year are reoccurring, and this stresses me out. June is going to be a very bad month for me. I can just tell.

The Teen Years (UPDATED)

2009-05-05T09:31:00.006-04:00

So this is me, in the middle, with some coworkers on halloween. We were supposed to dress up as cowgirls. I was 17. Close lipped smile? Yeah, braces.

Again, in the middle, this time sporting the braced smile. Also around 17. Note the over-plucked eyebrows.....Wooooo

This one is for Uamada!!! My sister and I rocking our Star Wars gear. Around 17 as well.

My triangelwings photo from when I first joined journalspace. I was 15.

More to come when I can get some scanned. I will show you the early years when I was goth and had furry eyebrows.....This could get ugly....

And more

Goth Indantatia, age 12, writing poetry in cemetary....I'm not even joking. What the fuck is up with those shoes?

Goth Indantatia, age 13, posing in her living room.

Indantatia found out at a young age just how sweet girls tasted.

Baby Idantatia

2009-05-04T01:03:00.003-04:00

Whoever let me dress myself should have been shot.

Lermy, look at the lemmings you have created.

St.John/St.Thomas photos

2009-04-29T08:33:00.002-04:00

As promised.

Speak Softly ( Plane Rides with mutants)

2009-04-14T14:13:00.003-04:00

I have arrived safely back to the connected 48.I must brag that the Virgin Islands were dramatically more beautiful than I could have ever expected. Living off the Emerald Coast of Florida makes me a little bit of a snob when it comes to beaches, but these were incomparable. The locals are poor, but friendly, and the Westin on St. John's is an amazing resort minus the ten billion children running around. Who takes their children to an island you should be MAKING babies on? I must tell you that for several moments I even thought of abandoning my life in Charlotte and becoming a dread-locked, less than minimum wage earning local. Alas, I took the wise route and came back, but with an incredible tan and the breathtaking visuals of the scenery of St. John etched into my brain eternally.

But enough of that. Let me whine about something. I am fully aware you guys don't keep coming back to hear me swoon, but to hear me bitch. Bitch I shall.

So the three hour flight there went really well. No babies. No cross dressers with the fear of flying and unbearable cologne he/she sprays every five minutes. No old man snoring. No sick person sitting next to me. I can't say the same for the flight back. I told you guys that I have a little bit of a fear of flying, but not anything too severe. My fear of flying was completely overshadowed by my absolute hatred for the young woman sitting behind me.

This was the same lady who held up the customs line because her license was in several pieces. They had to put it together like a puzzle and still do all the normal stuff before they would let anyone pass. I already didn't like her, and then she had to go sit behind me.

Close your eyes and imagine Minnie Mouse with a southern accent. Now speed it up about ten times. With all of that in mind, picture me sitting in front of her, on a three hour flight in which she did not ever find a minute to shut the fuck up. I don't believe she required air. She talked to every person within ten feet of us about anything and everything unimportant and trivial. She woke up the sleeping old lady next to her to show her the ‘authentic’ island mask she bought, which upon further inspection by the old lady a beautiful had made in China sticker on the back. We had to hear about how upset loud girl was for 30 minutes.

I wish I was joking.

If that wasn't enough to make indantatia absolutely crazy, she had the laugh of a banshee. Sean Cassidy would have ran in fear if he heard her shriek. Both the Tinman and I had our IPods blaring and we could not turn off her caldron boiling laugh. We would look at each other, our eyes bugged, and wish for death. I have never met someone I hated so much just by hearing them speak/laugh. I found out in her hours of conversation with everyone that she lives in Charlotte.

So this is my vow to you, Banshee lady. If I see you walking down the streets of Charlotte, I will run you over with my tiny car. I loathe you. I hate you like Tybalt hates the word peace. I disdain you like Garfield does raisins. You are my nemesis.

I declare war on you and your over-floppy hat. (She had a really big hat, guys)

Thank you for making my plane ride miserable. God forbid I only have good things to say about this trip. Some would accuse me of going soft.

Indy, a Broad, Abroad

2009-04-07T20:14:00.005-04:00

I turn a year older on Thursday. As a birthday present, TM is flying us to the Virgin Islands for a couple days. I will check back with you guys in a couple days. This is my first time flying over a body of water, and I'm rather frightened. If you hear of some crazy girl in the Charlotte airport walking around with water wings* on, then you know that's your sweet-ass Indantatia.

Stay frosty, my foolish lambs.

* Simon, these are water wings.

The Indy Observer

2009-03-25T07:47:00.002-04:00

I've been a little bit busy lately. As I haven't been able to find a job in this southern town, I decided to make the jobs find me. Okay, not really, but kind of. I have been studying to get my insurance license in the state of North Carolina, so I have been a little occupied. I am almost done. The Tinman leaves for Dublin tomorrow, and I really don't have anything else that could possibly distract me this weekend. This means only that I will be blogging, and all of you can dance a dance of joy ad worship.

I wish you would.

I'm sorry I have abandoned you. I was just taking Simon's lead.

Also, Steve, I saw a Mini Cooper with the license plate MINISKIRT and thought of you. It was one of the first custom plates I thought was cute. I am a little biased towards the mini's though.

Where

2009-03-24T17:34:00.001-04:00

In the world is Simon?

The True Definition

2009-03-10T15:36:00.004-04:00

What Merriem-Webster says:
friend
Pronunciation:
\ˈfrend\

noun
1 a: one attached to another by affection or esteem b: acquaintance
2 a: one that is not hostile b: one that is of the same nation, party, or group
3: one that favors or promotes something (as a charity)
4: a favored companion

What Indantatia Says:
friend
Pronunciation:
\ˈfrend\
1: One who might enjoy your company but would not turn down the chance to fuck you over at the opportune time for their own gain and/or amusement.
2: A favored companion that may think that they have outgrown you at any time and will cause a big dramatic shindig to prove that point.
3: One who reminds you that the days of loyalty are dead and gone. Welcome to the new millennium.

The Internetz

2009-03-10T12:11:00.001-04:00

Okay, so my modem is fried. I have had limited internet access for awhile now. I would have given you something tasty a long time ago, but I haven't been online since Friday. I have been in a ball, in my room, rocking back and forth and saying Hale Mary's. That is how sick I am right now, sick with the internet lust.

I will be back when my modem allows it.

The Women, as Promised

2009-03-04T03:06:00.002-05:00

I have less women than I do men, for obvious reasons. I do believe in quality over quantity though. Please, enjoy.

Just Plain Cute as a Button
Zooey Deschanel

Naturally Beautiful
Rachel Weisz

Crazy But a Probably a Phenomenal Lay
Brittany Murphy

You Just Want to Hate Her
Jessica Alba

Your High School Best Friend
Kristin Kreuk

Cougar
Monica Belluci

Skinny Whore
Fiona Apple

Flawless
Adrianna Lima

Even Indy Can Dream

2009-02-26T08:38:00.004-05:00

Jennicki, the spunky little tart I have stumbled upon on accident and thoroughly adore, has started a trend ( if I may). She listed a group of men, celebrities I guess, that she found attractive, or dare I say, delightfully lickable, for her readers to enjoy. Since, I have no shame in borrowing an idea, I have created me own list. I have added stereotypes to my men, as I believe I have a man to meet almost every one(except Meathead/Jock as I have no taste for them). Here it is, for your enjoyment.

Edward Norton : The Drama Geek

Jon Stewart : The Witty One/The Smart One ( He gets BOTH categories)

Clive Owen: The Manly Man

Rivers Cuomo: The Nerd

Seth Rogen : The Pothead

Haaz Sleiman: The Foreigner

Daniel Craig : The Prep

Ben Gibbard : The Emo Musician

Keanu Reeves : That Weird Dirty Guy Who Borderlines on Goth(who somehow does not age)

Michael Rosenbaum : The Rich Bad Boy

Johnny Knoxville : The Class Clown

Tune in next episode for : Even Indy Can Dream pt 2:Girl Crush

I Feel I Must Interject Here

2009-02-23T17:13:00.003-05:00

I really hate being lied about. I don't have a problem with being called names that are true (i.e bitch, narcissist, misanthrope) What I cannot let happen is when I am called things that are entirely untrue.

I get an angry message on facebook last night from BB's sister's fiance explaining to me how I fucked up their weekend. Since I deleted my earlier post about my weekend I will explain it in short. I got drunk and text messaged BB with "I am fucking someone else." I know this is immature, but I also know it made my weekend more interesting than yours. Let us not forget it also makes it entirely more stressful. I digress. I respond to BB's sister's fiance with how what happened between BB and I has nothing to do with his sister or her fiance. Apparently no one likes to be told to mind their own fucking business these days. "He was a mess, [Indantatia]" Let us stop the clock right here. I was tired and on my way to bed, and this simple statement didn't mean as much to me as it did in the morning, or as much as it should. "Why was he such a mess?", I pondered. Relationships completely aside, did he think at the very least that I wouldn't be able to find someone to sleep with me in 3 months? Am I that pathetic? Obviously, despite how awesome I think I am, he thinks no one would find me anything enough to at least fuck me and never call. Once again, BB underestimates me and I go to bed with a Grinch smile on my face. I had won. Again.

Well, when I woke up and decided to call BB's sister she coughed out a "I can't believe you cheated on my brother, [Indantatia]. You betrayed him"

The world stops turning. The little birdies of the world ceased singing. Oprah fell silent, and baby Jesus took a putrid yellow shit in his swaddling clothes.

What.The.Fuck.Did.You.Just.Say?

Apparently kicking him out of my house wasn't big enough. Obviously, moving to a different state did not paint the picture vividly enough. Clearly, us not speaking for 4 weeks was not a a sheet coming down from the sky with pigs and lobsters moment for him. In my gorgeously mistaken ex's mind, we are still together.

The Tin Man and I are having an affair, folks, and I didn't even fucking know about it. Let me ride my unicorn around candy mountain for a little bit; because, apparently other people's disillusioned way of thinking is my problem. BB thinks/thought that we were still together. Okay, gents, if all of the above mentioned statements can be checked off, or maybe even just one of them, then you should probably have a pretty lucid conception of where your relationship with a woman stands.

Maybe I should have sent him an e-card. "Hey, you're not my boyfriend anymore. We broke up. Now you're my ex. Let me sing you a No Doubt song or something." I am totally in the wrong here, and I understand this now. I completely understand that in dealing with boys, I guess you need to draw them a picture of what stage you are in dating process. Maybe a graph? I should have MS Painted him a fucking time line so that I could have been perfectly transparent. It should have looked like this.

So, apparently I'm a cheater, an unfaithful harlot only worthy of the big red letter A. I refuse to take that. Just because someone lives in a world where fairies exist, the good guy always wins, the raccoon was just lying in a pool of raspberry jam, honey, and even though she now lives hundreds of miles away she still digs you, does NOT mean that I will oblige to their way of thinking. I turn down the offer to stoop to such levels of ridiculous idiocy and I raise a new offer. Go fuck yourself, seriously. Anyone that cannot maintain a certain level of reality in their mind has absolutely no respect from me. I'm not asking for everyone to not lie to themselves in some way. We all need to tell ourselves that we look great naked and that our choice of music isn't entirely fueled by the mainstream, but this? I can't let this happen, and I repudiate any idea that I have to allow such fatuity in my life.

Needless to say, I took care of the situation on all accounts. I'm officially single, in every one's mind including BB's. He's off licking his wounds, and I sit here, steaming. Out of all the millions of terrible things an ex-boyfriend could say about me, and all of them be true, he picked one that wasn't. How asinine can one person be? What worries me is that there are probably so many more people like him in the world, and I have only lived so many years on this earth. How many more do I have to encounter?

Talk Dirty To Me

2009-02-17T15:50:00.003-05:00

Sorry I've been absent, lovers. I have been a little, er, pre-occupied with joblessness and The Tinman (The new love interest).

I have been hearing for months now that the economy is in the gutter. I haven't really seen it until now as I am in the abyss known as unemployment. Until now I have been relatively unscathed by our shitstain economy. Now I roll around in it's dirty little garden. It has never taken me more than 2 weeks to find a job. I have even applied at retail places, and haven't heard anything back. What is this crap? I'm too awesome to be another unemployed Puerto Rican.

Tell me about your "I'm starting to see this recession" story. I want to wallow in someone else's misery for about ten minutes.

Because You SHOULD Care

2009-02-06T13:22:00.001-05:00

25 Random things about Indy

1. I don't have a middle name, and this had always bothered me. Until about age 14 I wanted the middle name Rose. I outgrew both the desire for the middle initial R and the loathing of my parents for robbing me of it.

2. My hair and eyes are growing lighter every year. Slowly, my white genes are sucking the life out of my Puerto Rican features. I will be a ginger in no time.

3. I have always claimed to be a nerd, but only recently did I find out that I really am.

4. I'm a germ freak and anal retentive when it comes to how I keep my house. Okay, I'm just a control freak in general.

5. I am currently jobless. This is the first time in 8 years.

6. I'm not a very good casual friend. In fact, I can be a bit of a bitch, but if you gain an actual friendship title with me than I will be loyal to you until the day I die.

7. I have less than ten of these said "friends"

8. My blog displays a side of my personality that I have always tried to keep under control in social settings. It truly is my outlet and has been for years.

9. I fear the day that the aforementioned personality comes out from under my control. As should you.

10. I have books of poetry I have written and chapters upon chapters of novels I will never finish.

11. I love myself more every day.

12. I have a better relationship with my mother than you will ever have. It took a while, but I think we have it about right.

13. I dance when the doors are closed.

14. I sometimes dance when the doors aren't closed.

15. My favorite colour is pink and I make no apologies for that.

16. Nor will I apologize for spelling colour or humour with a "u".

17. [My Acupuncturist] has changed my life. In just one year she showed me that I could live without chronic pain, and I could love someone that I am not related to so immensely that it eternally makes them family.

18. I have no tattoos or piercings besides the ones in my ears.

19. I rarely cry at movies, but a good song can have me in tears in seconds no matter my mood.

20. I am not a feminist by any stretch of the imagination, even though I am often accused of being one. I am a total believer in gender roles.

21. I don't embarrass easily.

22. I hope to never have children. Yes, I would be a good mother.Yes, I'm selfish

23. I hope my love affair with coffee never ends. I remember the first time I really tasted it. My parents were having a leadership meeting at their house on Baker street in St.Paul, Minnesota. Mom was drinking it out of her white china with the little pink and blue roses painted on the rim. I think I just wanted to look adult-like by sipping out of a pretty cup, but once the dark and warm liquid ran over my lips I have never been addicted to anything like that since. Falling in love is never intentional.

24. I have addictive personality traits, so I try to stay away from anything I can't be all or nothing on.

25. Don't put me in a box. Despite my tiny frame, I can guarantee you that I won't fit in it.

Update

2009-02-05T07:33:00.003-05:00

Not feeling well. Need a job. Trying to stay away from (My brother's) kids. Should stop spending so much time with new love interest.

Ugh

I Will Be Signing Your Checks in Ten Years

2009-01-22T09:00:00.000-05:00

I was born cute. I'm not arrogant. I am just being frank. I mean just look at me. I would melt your soul.

I had no shortage of compliments as a child. Being a pastor's kid, I was constantly around people much older than I. At a young age though, I didn't want their complimets, I wanted their respect. I remember being three or four and telling an adult how I felt about a serious topic, and all they could say is "Oh, she is just tooo cute!" No one heard a thing I said. All they saw were big brown eyes and a Cheshire smile. From about that age I decided that my biggest crutch was my looks. I would not have to compete with anyone more heartily than I would with my own absolute adorability.

Now, before you go thinking "wow, what a pretentious bitch" hear me out. If you ask any pseudo--attractive woman if their looks have got them places in their life, and they were being honest, they would say yes. I would say yes. But our biggest blessing is our curse. Most of the time when men interview me for a job they aren't looking at the credentials on my resume, they are looking at my bust-waist-hip ratio. I do not think I am God's gift to man. I just know I'm not ugly. Now this is fine. I am not saying this should stop and people should stop being shallow. Humanity would cease to exist if we didn't chase what made our lower regions tingle. Sex is just another motivator, and we would all be kidding ourselves if we said it wasn't. I don't have my knickers in a twist because someone thinks I'm hot. I'm all bothered because they think I can't be hot and be smart. Let's take blogging for example. It is a known fact that the majority of females that are good looking get more blog hits than a woman who isn't. I knew this when I was 15 and joined journalspace. I'm not a dumbass, and if what I'm saying pisses you off then you're probably ugly. The world revolves around other people wanting to either be you or be with you. This an absolute truth. Most of the time people don't care if you really have anything good to say, as long as you look good saying it. I know this because I live this. I am not trying to make ripples or prove that I am a hateful person. This is how the world works.

I tried to fight this for a time in my life. I refused to do anything to myself to seem attractive. I wore extra baggy clothes. I refused to hang out with popular people. I only befriended "geeks" and I took up hobbies like comic books and anime to buck my calling. I never wore dresses, or anything that showed my curvy legs, my overdeveloped chest, or my tiny Puerto Rican bubble booty. I was very methodical in being average. Then one day it happened. I got something without deserving it. Someone thought I was fun to look at, and I realized that I could take this to the finish line.

I am not ungrateful for the way I look. I'm very thankful, as I'm fairly vain. I am not bothered by my bust or hips. You want to know what I am bothered by?

You

Just because I'm attractive doesn't mean I'm not brilliant, and I am sick of being underestimated because of this. In the end I win though. I have always had the upper hand over people because they assume the worst of my intelligence. While you are busy staring at my ass, I am thinking of ways to use and manipulate you to get what I want. Keep staring. I will own you some day.

That is unless, of course, I get mauled in an automobile accident tomorrow.

Cheese Spread

2009-01-16T23:25:00.002-05:00

I have mentioned before that I have a little bit of OCD. A perfect example of this is that I buy Kaukauna sharp cheddar spread.

I know that's gross, but get off my ass. I eat this with wheat thins. I have a process to how I do this. I cannot scoop out a big chunk and put in on a plate, nor do I simply dip the cracker in there. (ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY WALK INTO MORDOR!) I have to scrape an even and thin layer off of the top, causing a plow like pattern on the top of the spread. I do this every time without fail. Not only does this make me feel in more control of my life, but I can also tell when people eat my cheese spread. Yes, my dear sweet brother, that means you.

I have issues.

Let's Get Physical

2009-01-13T12:05:00.002-05:00

Let’s talk about almost everyone’s New Year’s resolution: Losing weight.

I am not one for resolutions in the first place. I feel that if you want to change something about your life, you shouldn’t have to wait for a certain point in the earth’s rotation to do so. But as I have stated before, I know not everyone thinks like me, and thus millions of people have started a new exercise/ diet regimen beginning 01/01/09.

For years, weight was not an issue with me. I am 4’11 and I’ve always maintained a weight of 90-100 lbs. (40.82-45.36 kg for you crazy Europeans). Luckily for me, both my grandmothers are waifs, and I was pretty sure I had that gene. Then I turned 21. I grew hips out of nowhere, and with those hips came chicha (Hispanic pet name for below)

Of course, I could have none of this, being a perfectionist. I was reminded of a couple years ago when I loved working out and going to the gym. I was much younger then, and had more energy. I know I’m still young, but anyone that knows me knows my usual bedtime is approximately 9 P.M. I wouldn’t like to call it laziness, but I think it is. Getting myself motivated was hard to do; because, as good as the memories of having a near perfect body mass index, I was haunted by those memories of the guys at the gym.

Ladies, you know them. Gentleman, yes, I mean you. As hilarious as it is watching you fellate yourself in front of a gym mirror, I can’t help but gag on my own saliva. All your perfectly timed flexes and your ridiculously awkward winks are unwelcomed in my heart. Call me cold, call me heartless, or call me completely unapproachable (and you would probably be right), but sweet Lord do you have NO shame? Yes, I’m talking to you that one guy who wouldn’t leave me alone while doing my leg press. Here, I am working my semitendinosus and gastrocnemius muscles and this guy is asking me about my relationship status. I don’t know what part of my statement, “I hate men, and I think that the whole gender really has nothing to offer me” didn’t scream “Please, piss off and die.” Obviously, I hadn’t mastered my “I loathe your presence” face at that age. Oh, the things I know now.

On reminiscing, I had decided that I would just buy one of those cheesy home tapes and continue with my chi kung. In doing this every day after work and then preparing dinner for my master, I realized that it really isn’t that easy keeping your body in check. Exercise is just like anything else of work; in order to be successful with it you have to be dedicated and you have to give it time. That is exactly why I loathe exercise, church, children, relationships, animals, and everything else. Everything takes commitment. I really just can’t live my life without it. So in exercising, I have lost a little piece of my misanthropic soul. If I can commit to bettering my body, I suppose I can commit to bettering other things about myself too. I’m not happy about it though. If I start going soft, I hope you guys will let me know.

Mommy Dearest

2009-01-12T13:32:00.002-05:00

Hi, my name is Shannon, and I do not want to be a mother.

From the reaction I usually get from people, I would have to say that this is one of my most controversial stances. It's pretty funny if you ask me. People are always offended when I say things like, "No, I am just too selfish to be a mother." I really do not understand why.

If I were to do anything good for the universe, it would be to not procreate. You see, I'm a decent person. I abide by the law. I pay taxes. I try to stay away from credit card debt, but none of these things really mean I should have a child. In reality, I even have a tiny bit of a maternal instinct. That tiny bit is completely eclipsed by my knowledge of the absolute truth that I should not have children. I know me better than you do, so don't tell me that I will grow out of it or it is against nature for a young woman to not desire to have a child of her own. I hear of women that ache for a child, and that's wonderful. I am glad there are people in this world who truly love children. I'm glad that these people can ooh and awe for what seems like hours over the sight of a child spitting up on itself. What they call cute, I call nauseating.

Please, don't get me started on how I feel on pregnancy. I'm not a big fan of symbiotic relationships. Fetuses are the biggest and most popular parasites. I would rather not think of some life-form sucking my nutrients through a fleshy tube. This is the thing that gets me. People always tell me that there is no way a woman cannot truly desire being a mother. I do not see how hard this is to disprove. Either I am not a woman, or I really do want children. Considering, I would rather throw myself down a flight of stairs than actually carry a child to term; I'm thinking I really don't want children. Also, I have ovaries, and I shower with myself daily. If anyone knows that I'm a woman, it would be me. Let me guarantee you. I am a woman.

I guess all of this is brought on by me living with my brother. He has a beautiful three year old daughter and a striking one year old boy. I love them a lot, no really. When my niece was born I never thought I would really attach myself to her. Soon she had me eating out of her hand like a domesticated fawn. I adore her. This does not make me want to have one of my own. In fact, after about two hours with her I am usually ready to hand her back and say "Thanks, I'll call again in a couple months". I'm really not a monster. I think I was just born without that gene that made me want to give birth to anything.

Don't tell me I'm just young. Don't tell me I need to keep my internal organs intact.

I promise you. I know what I'm doing.

Yes!

2009-01-09T08:00:00.001-05:00

Just Yes.

I want to thank all the haters( Steve) for making this victory so sweet.

WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!

Orange and Blue

2009-01-08T13:38:00.002-05:00

I must say that even though I am no longer living in Gainesville I am still prancing around my brothers house screaming "Oklahoma is Gator bait!" I even got my niece in on the action. (Much to my brother's dismay. He's an FSU fan) No matter who wins I am sure this will be an exciting game. To all my fellow college football lovers: I raise my mug to you. May this game be awesome. (and may the Gators kick some major Sooner ass!)

The House of the Lord

2009-01-05T12:28:00.006-05:00

Yesterday, for the first time in over a year, I went to church. This usually wouldn't be so monumental for me, considering I spent 19 years of my life solely dedicated to the church and its teachings. For some reason this time felt different. Two years ago, I had finally decided that the church was not filling the aching hole in my spiritual life. I haven't really looked back since. You see, even though I am haunted by the guilt of "forsaking fellowship with the brethren" that guilt is completely overshadowed by my disdain for organized religion

Two weeks ago when I moved to North Carolina I knew that church was in my distant future. My brother is the worship leader for a local church that is pastored by the same man who baptized me as an infant. This man is like a father to me. He has been with my family through its most tumultuous times and loves us despite our more than obvious flaws. I have nothing but respect for the man, even though his life is formed around something I don't quite agree with anymore. I promised both him and my brother that I would give the whole church thing a shot. I told them not to expect much. I am hoping they didn't.

I walked into the church at ten and instantly felt uncomfortable. Religious people would call that the conviction of the Holy Spirit. I call it bad memories and indigestion. People were all smiles, and some of them were barefoot. In my experience with charismatic churches, a barefoot sighting is bad news. That means there will be random acts of dancing and speaking in tongues. The sign was correct, for shortly after the music started people were prancing about with smiles facing towards the heavens. It wasn't too bad yet. After the music went from joyful celebration of God's love to intimate love songs of humanity's failure and desperation for Christ's forgiveness, it got a little messier. A woman stood up and started speaking in tongues loudly.Growing up in a "Spirit filled" church as a youth, I was taught this is the sign that you have the Holy Spirit inside of you. Now I feel like it is just a quick way to scare people out of the pews. A man started speaking as if the Lord was speaking through him. I tried not to be too cynical, but when the man used improper grammar, I couldn't help but think God would know better. Maybe God was just using day-to-day colloquialism. I was pretty sure the worst was over. The "Worship" time is usually the most uncomfortable for me. I figured I had made my way through the hardest part. I was wrong.

After the music slowed a man walked up and said the words I dreaded. "Now let us prepare for communion."My stomach dropped. Now, even though I am so permeated with heathenism that I can gladly write a post about my attitude towards organized religion, I don't have the balls to stand up to a centuries old ritual. All I could think of was how we were taught as children that you should only partake of the body and blood of Christ if you are cleansed and worthy. I shift in my chair, which might I add was quite comfortable for a plastic chair and stared down the elderly couple passing around the juice and bread several rows ahead of me. As they drew closer, I thought that maybe if I looked uninterested they wouldn't offer anything to me. This didn't work. The woman looked at me and smiled genuinely while holding out a plate filled with bread pieces. I half smiled and waved my hand. I'm sure I looked so terrible doing it. This wasn't even the worst part. The old man following her didn't see me shrug off his wife, so he came to me with the juice as well. I have to wave away two elderly people in one day. Both of them with completely honest smiles, and I'm sure kind hearts. I felt like a beast. I argued with myself about how I should have just taken the communion to be polite. I finally came to the conclusion that I made the right decision. What is offending two people when the alternative is supposedly offending God. After the communion was over I was sure that I was in the clear. The pastor was dismissing the children and then said "But before you stand up please be sure and speak a blessing over someone, even if you don't know them. Send them off with a blessing for 2009." I refuse to stand. I pretty much locked my ankles around the edges of the chair and dared anyone to look at me. Then a little hand touches me shoulder and this perky teen sits down beside me. I honestly couldn't understand what she was saying. She was so joyful. She was so peppy. She was so nervous. Not until she was almost done "blessing me" I noticed that I was probably scowling at her. Poor kid, she did have something nice to say though. She flitted away and I unlocked my ankles.

I felt defeated, and a little bit mean. I was ready to go home and maybe take a shot of something. Did I mention I was overdressed? As the children were being dismissed I noticed that I was of the 5% of people who weren't wearing jeans. I really just wanted to go home. The sermon was not applicable to me, as it was sort of a state of the church address. He did point out the new roster and there, right underneath my brother's name, was mine. Yes, Me. I was on this church's roster and this was the first time I had been there. The guy in front of me turns around and says "Hey, isn't this your first time. Why are you on the roster?" I smiled and said, "Guilt by association" I pointed to my brother and smiled in a way a Stepford wife would admire.

I cringed through the rest of the sermon and mingled for a few minutes after church was dismissed. I wandered around long enough to realize I was out of my league now. The smiles made me nauseated and the "Bless you's" made me feel empty. I tapped my sister-in-law on the shoulder and said I would see her at home.

"You not feelin' well?". Lori asked in her always pleasant voice."

"Nope. I am just overwhelmed."

I walked to my car and waived "bye" to people who love my family, and thus love me. I closed my door, and told myself I would not be doing this anytime soon. Church just isn't what it used to be to me.

Testing.

2009-01-04T16:54:00.001-05:00

This is me trying to find a new home