dairy, doctor who, and the end of the world as we know it.

It’s 2012, y’all. It’s a time to reflect on the past year, a time to renew yourself, a time to get in your last parting shots before the Mayans come down from their spaceships and bludgeon us to death with their calendars, or whatever that whole thing about the calendar is.

I tend to spend the better part of January working out my resolutions for the new year. I like to give myself a month of testing the waters to know whether or not I can commit to something for a year. As I write this post, my resolutions are as follows:

1 – To cut back my dairy consumption.

I was going to try to cut out dairy completely but I’m too damn lazy to fight that battle. And some things just don’t taste right without cheese. January 10 marks my first year as a vegetarian and I had big plans (for like 2.5 seconds) to go vegan. But I’m lazy, like cheese, and still eat eggs. So I will just cut back on the cheese and milk. Thankfully they make almond milk, which is pretty much the best shit ever, so I can enjoy my weekend breakfasts of overpriced Kashi cereal without feeling bad about myself. Well, not as bad about myself. We all know that I’m a self-deprecating bitch. It’s one of my best qualities.

2 – To watch Doctor Who.

From what I can tell on Pinterest, Doctor Who is kind of a big deal. I just wrapped up the third episode. I like it, but I don’t quite see why people love it as much as they do. But who am I to judge? I used to have my bedroom walls covered with pictures of Hanson when I was a kid. No one but other Hanson fans (fansons, we were called back in the day) would understand that shit.

3 – To finish/hopefully publish the sequel to my first published book, Always the Last to Know.

I was going through my folders of scraps of paper that I have bits of stories and notes that I’ve written over the years. I’ve been working on this story (as well as my paranormal series) since 2008. I have 36 pages worth of tidbits and dialogue just sitting in a Word document on my computer, not to mention probably 50 handwritten pages worth of things in my folders. I don’t know why I am having so much trouble with this story. I like the characters. Not as much as I love the characters in my paranormal series though. Those characters kick ass, quite literally. But the characters in the sequel, which is called Always on the Run, if anyone is wondering, are enjoyable too. And even a little complex. Which is a real feat for me. The plan is to have it published by January of 2013. You know, provided we survive the end of the world and all of that. But what am I saying? I’ve been working on this blog post for the past two hours and haven’t even reached 500 words.

4 – To get healthy/less fat.

I would like to drop between 30 and 4o pounds. Or at least get my ass in a single digit pair of jeans. I think a few of us at work are going to start up a weight loss challenge near the end of this month and run it through the end of the semester. That’ll be a good start. I like the idea of saying that, by the end of this year, I want to be able to run a half marathon, but I’m definitely not reaching for stars quite that far away. I know better. But I do enjoy running. But on my terms. I don’t like feeling like I need to keep up with people or that I’m being watched or judged for how often I fall back into a walk or, at best, a weak jog. I went running on New Year’s Day, and even though it was only for 20 minutes or so, I felt alive. Then, after a few inhales of moderately cold January air, I felt like I was going to die. But those few moments of non-dying were pretty damn nice.

So, that’s it for January. To not eat so much cheese, to watch television, write, and get less fat. I feel like all these things cancel out the others.

But enough about me. What are your New Year’s resolutions? And any tips on how I can keep up on mine?

- Crystal

No Excuses…Play Like a Champion

I realize that it has been a very long time since I have actually added anything insightful, okay…maybe just anything at all, to this blog.  I could go on and on about work, my computer breaking down, being sick, etc. etc.  You get the point.  The fact of the matter is, they would just be excuses.  Excuses seem to be something I am becoming all too familiar with these days.  Everybody keeps making them, including myself.  I am coming to find that they are perhaps the most useless waste of energy that anyone could possibly muster up.  I am currently trying to work out why we keep making these excuses, and the only thing I can come up with is, we do it out of fear.  Often times we are afraid of what people might think if we tell them the truth, so instead we feed them bullshit.  *On a side note, nobody is ever really fooled by bullshit.  It’s just that some people will play along better than others.*  Other times, and this is the one I am most guilty of, we are afraid of failure.  So afraid, in fact, that we will lie to ourselves so that we don’t have to feel so bad about selling ourselves short.  It can be a little tough knowing that you are capable of doing great things, but for some reason you aren’t doing anything to get there.  Making an excuse appears to be the most introversly (I think I just made that word up) economical thing to do…but do you see how that is working out for Congress right now?  Fuck it.  No more excuses.  2012…prepare to be my bitch!

on privacy and penises.

People share too much on the internet.  I did not need to find out via Twitter that my little cousin was doing “cock push ups” last night.  That’s something that I don’t want to find out about any member of my family doing. Ever. In fact, in my mind, I just assume that all of my family is built like Ken and Barbie dolls. It makes life way easier and, that way, I don’t have to Google the phrase “penis push-ups” to find out just what in the hell is going on.

Apparently some dude can lift 55 pounds with just his penis. Color me impressed. And concerned. And seriously wondering how he discovered this fact about himself.

So, back to the first sentence of this post.  People share too much on the internet.  I just want to let you know that, on this blog, I will probably share a lot of things with you – emotions, drunken nights, silly pictures – but I promise that I will never tell you guys when I do weird stuff with my junk.

- Crystal

 

this post is anything but legendary.

I’m on a How I Met Your Mother high right now so this post, which has been started and deleted like four times, might not be as depressing as the previous drafts.*

Funny what kind of effect a TV show can have you.

Now that I think about it, TV shows have completely shaped the way I thought/think my life should go.  First with Friends and now How I Met Your Mother.  I know not to believe everything I see on TV (I mean, Brian seemed to get a sick thrill of pointing out how scripted American Pickers is while I was watching it in marathon mode over the weekend on Netflix, but whatever. I love that show and may have an inappropriately aged crush on Mike Wolfe), but I’ve always thought that life, once or twice, would be like a TV show.

Like, How I Met Your Mother. In my mind, it’s much more genuine than Friends, but it’s still completely inconceivable. Yet I want that.  I want the close group of friends and the bar in the basement of the building I live in. I want to be a Slap Bet Commissioner. I want someone to steal a blue French horn for me.

Ted so gets me.

Hell, sometimes, I even want to lick the Liberty Bell a little bit.

I felt like this post was going somewhere. But let’s just say that life is nothing like TV. High-fives are a little dorky, no one suits up to go to a bar in this town, unless they’re douchey frat guys, and the cockamouse is just a rat.

And I have to walk six blocks through the ghetto to get to the nearest bar.

* Oops. This post turned out to be a bummer. My bad.

- Crystal

Drifting

It always seems to happen around this time of year.  I’m not sure if it’s because of the changing weather, or perhaps it’s because I have to lay witness to the trees dying right outside my bedroom window.  Or maybe…just maybe…it’s because this is the time of year where I realize another year has gone by and I don’t have any idea where I am.  Now I don’t necessarily mean this in the literal sense; it’s just that most people seem to have a path in front of them.  They follow it, accomplish some goals, and ultimately find at least some semblance of happiness.  I look around and see dying trees.  No path.  Just a bunch of leafless logs.  And then the worst happens.  I start reminiscing.  I reverse all of this traveling and all of those years spent wondering.  I go back to a time when I was walking the path of dreams with many friends.  If only I had known that path was going to fork in five billion different directions…I might have prepared myself a little better.  We all went our separate ways with pleasant goodbyes, having every intent to stay in touch, but that’s a story well known and overtold.  It’s a little hard to find those friends when you’ve strayed so far from your path that you can’t even point to the direction of home.  I suppose there is still the better part of two months left in 2011.  Perhaps I will spend them looking for my way back instead of staring at trees.  Maybe it’s just that time of year…

-Brian

Push

So I realized that it has been a while since I last posted.  A lot has been going on, but it’s one of those cases where you stay really busy and still get nothing accomplished.  It’s been kinda shitty to be honest.  Our tagline is now a lie, as I got rid of my demon of a cat on Halloween.  Even though it made me feel like a pansy, I feel no shame in admitting that I cried at the shelter.  I sponsored him though, so hopefully he will have a quick adoption.  Sickness has been creeping into the apartment as well.  It came cleverly disguised in the form of a virus and Matchbox Twenty.  After getting over the fever all I do is listen to Matchbox Twenty and walk around singing “Push”.  I don’t think Crystal approves, but it is helping me get by.  She approves of very little that I do anyways.  I also did a little myth busting while sick.  I was curious if Tequila Sunrises would help cure me when I had a 101 fever.  Even though I got more than my fair share of Vitamin C and old school cough syrup my fever worsened.  I actually woke up hallucinating and passed out from dehydration.  Don’t try this at home!  That’s how much I love you guys.  I do these kinds of things so you no longer have to wonder.  I leave you with this …

- Brian

i promise that this is a completely innocent conversation.

Crystal: Dude, you got me!

Brian: I did not!

Crystal: Yes you did.

Brian:  Then why is it on my hand?

Crystal:  It’s in my hair!

books, bitemarks, and that moment when you realize your roommate is a socialist.

I was bitten last night.  Through two layers of clothing, one of those layers being the sleeve of my awesome leather bomber jacket.

Nothing prompted this attack.  I was just standing there minding my own business*, when a pair of chompers bit down on my forearm.  A bruise came up immediately.  Yes, I took off my awesome leather bomber jacket to make sure that I wasn’t bleeding.  It hurt THAT bloody bad.  I was not bleeding, and therefore probably can’t press charges.

This morning,  however, I awoke to find that the bruise is more of a pinkish color and is a nice oval shape on my forearm, not unlike ringworm.  At least I think that’s how ringworm looks and I am not about to Google image that shit to confirm.  Doing Google image searches of medical things always ends up with me wanting to throw up and take a Lysol bath.

And I guess I should  tell you who bit me.  If you think it was Bitch Cat (the pet name I use for Brian’s cat, Fenix, who I did not kiss the other night; that was all him; Brian is a liar and a Socialist), you would be wrong.  I mean, yes, that little bastard did bite me yesterday.  And I’m pretty sure he learned it from his owner because it was definitely Brian that bit the living hell out of my arm last night.  Then, when we got back to the apartment, he threw a rug over my head and stole books that I had packed up to donate to Goodwill.  So, essentially, he robbed Goodwill. Drunk. At 2:30 in the morning.

I was not amused by these developments.

Then, to make up for all this ruckus he caused and blood he had almost drawn, he read The Giving Tree to me as a bedtime story.  And  then stole the book for his own library.

*That may not be true.  I might have been freaking Brian out by talking about feet on his face, but I was the only one around sober enough to properly remember the events that unfolded last night.  Suck it, alcoholics.

- Crystal

a life less mess.

My life is a bit of a mess.  I would chalk it up to bad life decisions but if you’ve read any of Brian’s posts, then you know that’s more of his department.  I’m the straight-laced one in this apartment.  And my life is messy.  I blame Past Crystal for this.  At 18, I told myself, I says, “By 25, you are going to have your life so figured out that the Rubik’s cube people are going to be calling you asking for help.”

That joke worked better in my head.  Whatever.  I’m keeping it in here.

Past Crystal was so sure that Future Crystal was going to have her shit together.  She would have graduated college, have some fantastic career (possibly in Italy), and be dating some guy who was awesome and way out of her league.  Future Crystal would also be skinny.

Future Crystal is now Present Crystal.  And of those four dreams that Past Crystal had… Well, let’s just say that Meatloaf never sang a song called “One Out of Four Ain’t Bad”.  I never have thought that here is where I would be right now.  Living in the same town I graduated college from, working a job that’s okay but not at all what I want to do for the rest of my life, totally single, and definitely not skinny.  And it could be so much worse, and I know that, I really do know that.  But I’m an American and, as an American, I’m left always wanting more.

I have been taking baby steps to making my life a life less mess.  One of those baby steps (that I decided on today after reading Abby’s latest post at A Geek Tragedy and then stalking out Miss Minimalist for ages) is to go a little bit minimalist.  My room has been a mess for ages.  It’s like, every weekend I get it decently clean then, by Wednesday, it’s like the Tazmanian Devil from Looney Tunes whirled through it.  I’m just so sick of my room always looking like hell.  I got in early from work today and have already bagged up some clothes and books to take to Goodwill and consignment stores.  I don’t know if I want to go full-on minimalist or not (probably not), but I definitely want a cleaner and clearer atmosphere.  I just think that cleaning out my room will reach other aspects of my life.

Until things in my life fall in the place they’re supposed to, I can’t complain.  I’ve got a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and a place to sit my drink.

- Crystal

Life Brew

It would appear as though the week drones on, mindlessly pushing one long day into another.  The process is then repeated until you suddenly realize that you don’t know what day of the week it is or how long it’s been Monday.  The only consolation you get is when that sudden realization that it’s Friday kicks in.  This last all of thirty seconds until a gracious co-worker reminds you that it is indeed not Friday, but rather Thursday.  Welcome to Big Kid Land!  Damn those advertisements were deceiving.

This has been my routine for the past few weeks, and I’m not really sure I like it at all.  It has become such that Tuesday night drinking has become a regular occurrence.  Before you judge I think you should have all of the facts.  First, my job can be stressful as Hell.  I’ve never actually been to Hell, but I’ve seen how it stresses some people out way too much here on Earth so I assumed it was a safe comparison.  Second, my job has some sort of complicated financial formula where they make sure you get paid just enough to stay below the poverty line.  I don’t even try to understand it, as math was never my best subject, but I do understand banks saying you have no money.  Last week I managed to get my checking account down to nine cents.  That takes talent.  And lastly, although in this case most importantly, Tiballs (a local bar) has a $7 all you can drink special.  Even I can see the cost efficiency of being an alcoholic on a Tuesday.  I mean if I drank the same amount of orange juice as I did alcohol on a Tuesday night, my costs would astronomically increase.  BUT, to be even more cost efficient, you get Tequila Sunrises.  Orange juice and Tequila!  What a deal!  Best of both worlds for one flat rate.  Ok, now you are free to judge if you are still inclined to do so as opposed to joining me at the bar.

The bar is a very interesting place.  You see a lot of different kinds of people, and most people would consider it a chance to work on their game.  I find this very amusing to watch as I myself have negative game.  It’s odd though.  I do believe that sometimes having game below zero works just as well as having game, but what do I know?  I’ve already told you I am no good at math, and here I am talking about the absolute value of  “x”  if  “x=game”.  Perhaps there isn’t an exact formula to picking people up at the bars…but really who are we trying to kid?

Speaking of game.  Fenix, my cat, has learned to spit some mad game, no pun intended as you will soon find.  Just the other night, I was laying in my bed minding my own business when across the hall I hear “Oh my God!”  Apparently Crystal and my cat french kissed each other.  I thought there were laws against that sort of thing, but who am I to say what’s right.  The heart wants what the heart wants I guess.  It just makes me feel odd when I walk into the living and see them sitting together now.  She swears he kissed her and that she never kissed him back.  I’m sure she’ll share her side of the story at some point.

I leave you with this.

“The whole world is about three drinks behind.”

-Brian