Ex-Everything

Crime watch update!

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Fri, 22 May 2009 00:56:00 +0000

I found out how someone managed to withdraw money from my bank account. A few days ago Jeff was reading Torrance's local paper adorably named the Daily Breeze and found an article about a recent rash of ATM card fraud committed by a guy working at an Arco gas station in nearby Redondo Beach.

As I was reading the article and thinking about the location, Prospect and PCH, I realize that we went there once to get a bottle of water before going to the beach. So, I looked up the charge in my bank statements and found it on March 18th. Aha! Exactly during the time period that this guy was working there and stealing card numbers and PINs.

If you're not familiar with Arco/AMPM, it's a low cost gas chain owned by the much larger BP. They only take ATM and cash, no credit. So anyone who bought gas there was basically handing over all the information this guy needed to steal money. All he had to do was take that information and put it on a card with a magnetic stripe and literally take it to the bank.

The best part is that this guy gave a fake name, "Erick Volonski ", fake driver's license and fake address to get the job at this gas station. I think its a safe assumption that the owner of the gas station, a franchise owner affiliated with BP, didn't do even one smidgen of pre-employment screening. Had the owner taken a small, inexpensive amount of precaution over 1,000 of his customers wouldn't have been ripped off.

And yes, I'm sure everyone got their money back from their various banks. But that does come at a price. Banks carry insurance to cover theft, as well as run hugely expensive "investigative" departments for the sole purpose of investigating these and other types of crimes. If the banks never recover the stolen money (and surely they won't), our charges and fees go up. Essentially, the innocent people in this story did get their money back RIGHT NOW but will end up paying for it in the future.

Now that I'm aware of the hiring standards employed by BP and it's affiliates, I will never, ever use their stores. I will also never use my ATM card as anything but 'credit'. It's too risky. If you can't pay credit or cash, walk away and find somewhere else.

And because the guy who is suspected to have committed this crime has mysteriously disappeared with over 200,000 dollars from totally innocent people, I'm asking you to just look and see if you know these people. You never know. The internet is a weird place.

If you recognize either of these men please call the Redondo Beach police at 310-379-2477.

You can read the letter I wrote to the writer of the original article here. If this happened to you in the past few weeks and you've been to this store, please call the Redondo Beach police to make a report.

Oh! And the bad news is that it isn't the same person who stole my unemployment check. Technically my ATM card and PIN were stolen before the unemployment check ever went missing. Two thieves in a matter of four weeks! Huh!

I'm cuddly, bitch.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Tue, 19 May 2009 00:31:00 +0000

AND I play DVDs. Twofer.

Faicbuk.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Thu, 14 May 2009 17:11:00 +0000

When I was 15 I fell in love for the very first time. Allen. Allen had long blond hair, he made me watch Southpark for the first time, he took me paintballing. Allen and I dated for over a year. We even spent Y2K making out in his parents closet. Best potential end of the world date ever.

But eventually we grew apart. And by grew apart I mean he went to church camp and came back with a different girlfriend. A girl named Shelby. A girl who was 13 or 14 at the time. We were 16 and in high school. This girl was still in junior high. As far as I was concerned I'd just been dumped for an infant.

So, I hated this girl, naturally. In fact, Shelby if you're reading this I hope you get leprosy. No, wait, that's not right. I know, I know. I hope you already have leprosy. I hope your fingers have fallen off and you're browsing the web with one of those sticks attached to your forehead with a suction cup.

The summer after all this happened Allen and the infant took a break. During that break a girl I had known all my life slept with Allen. And not just had sex with him but took his virginity.

So, I hated this girl too. We all hated her. We called her and screamed SLUT!!!! when she answered. We drove by her house and threw eggs at her car. I had known this girl since second grade and taking the virginity of my first love was the worst thing that ever happened to me. And I made her feel like it was the worst thing she'd ever done.

But eventually this all blew over and my friends and I stopped egging cars and prank calling people. The girl who had betrayed me eventually went on to sleep with pretty much every one else I ever dated. And I hated her for that too. Who wouldn't hate someone who comes around behind you and sleeps with boys you never got to sleep with? The one boy I actually did sleep with in high school never slept with her. I don't think.

My point is that this girl asked to be my friend on Facebook.

And my initial reaction was okay, sure. But then I got to thinking about what kind of balls she has to even make that request.

It's been seven years since we graduated and I should probably have forgotten about it. I'm sure she probably has. However, there are just some things that can never be forgiven and I think pretending to be my friend and then sleeping with my first love is one of them.

So, denied, bitch. If I lived closer I'd egg your car again.

"I love my hair! It's my favorite thing about me!"

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Tue, 12 May 2009 06:30:00 +0000

Since I've been laid off I have an absurd amount of free time. Absurd. My entire life is free time. Except for all the job hunting I've been doing. Ahem. That takes up AT LEAST 40 hours a week. Sometimes more. Sometimes I'm job hunting for days on end without taking a break. Ahem.

Anyway, when I'm not job hunting or getting ripped off, I find myself spending a lot of time with my butt suction-cupped to the couch. And what is conveniently placed right in front of my couch? The TV. So, I've been watching a lot of TV. A. Lot. And I'm pretty sure I'm getting dumber because get this: I watched a show with like 27 skanks and Rikki Lake and it never occurred to me once during that squandered hour that maybe, just maybe this wasn't reasonable.

And the worst part? I watched all the shows that these skanks originated from. Real Chance of Love, Rock of Love Bus, etc, etc, etc. You name a shitty Vh1 show and I've watched it. Right down to the reunion shows where I sit there with my hands clasped hoping against all realities that they're still together this time.

But guess what? They're never together. BECAUSE THIS IS FAKE. I'm a 25 year old educated person living in the greatest nation on the planet and I have thrown away so many hours of my life watching skanky girls with daddy issues vie for "love" with a "celebrity" on a FAKE TV SHOW.

There are a lot of things I hate about myself. A lot. I hate that I'm quick to judge, I hate that after two drinks I'm bombed, I hate that my roots grow out in two weeks. But the fact that I watch these shows and like them, even dare I say, look forward to them is my worst quality.

I need rehab. I imagine this rehab would include seminars with such mind-bending topics as, "Shows with more than 50% of the dialogue bleeped out: Psychologically Poisonous?".

The answer is yes. Dear Baby Jesus please make it stop, yes.

Violated.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Mon, 11 May 2009 00:59:00 +0000

At the end of March I was expecting to receive an unemployment check in the mail. I usually get them on Saturdays but sometimes Mondays and even once on a Tuesday. So when the check didn't come on that Saturday, I didn't initially panic although it put a kink in my birthday plans. I borrowed some money and fully expected to get the check on Monday or Tuesday. Well, it never came and it never came and it never came.

I initiated the process to report it stolen or lost with the state. This sounds much easier than it really is because the state employs approximately twelve people to answer a million calls per day. So, I spent days - literally - almost 2600 cell phone minutes trying to get an actual operator to answer my call so that I could get the paperwork to get a replacement check. This entire process took nearly three weeks. Three weeks without a check. It was a struggle and it was a gigantic pain in the ass. The state made me jump through hoop after hoop and finally on April 18 I received the replacement check. Twenty something odd days later.

During those three weeks, during those hours I spent on the phone, during the nights where I worried about when I would be able to pay my car payment - during that entire time I thought my check was lost, misdelivered, something innocent.

That was until Thursday when an angry store owner showed up on my doorstep demanding to know what we were going to do about the check I bounced at his store. And I said, wait, just a minute, WHAT? And he was like, look lady the unemployment check you cashed just a few days ago? It bounced and I want my money back. And I was all, okay, here's the thing that wasn't me and I explained to him the whole story. He just stared at me as if this was totally unbelievable but then he asked me to look at the surveillance footage to see if I knew who it was. I looked and of course I didn't.

On the footage which was filmed on April 19th (one day after I received my replacement check and long after the state had put a stop payment on the "lost" check) you can clearly see the woman hand over my check and then an ID which the store owner claims had my name and address but not the same ID number (which I suppose is one small plus). The store owner is going to turn the footage and bounced check and stuff over to the DA which is great. I hope this person gets caught. I hope she gets jail time for committing mail fraud and fraud against the State of California. Stealing from people on unemployment should carry some sort of special punishment.

Nevertheless, my next step was to put a fraud alert on my credit reports and get copies to see if any bizarre activity had been going on and nada, nothing. I felt like phew, this is over. I felt LUCKY.

WRONG. DUMBASS. SO WRONG.

Yesterday I received my check in the mail, took it to the ATM and deposited it like I do every time. Only this time when I got the little receipt it said I had 200 dollars less than I should and I was all huh? This can't be right!

I ran home to check my account online and lo and behold there is an ATM withdrawal for $200.00 from a Bank of America ATM in Sunland, California. Some shit town that I've never been to, never heard of and know not one single person from. I called customer service who locked down my account and canceled my current debit card and PIN. On Tuesday I can file a claim to get the money back.

I'm sure that BofA will give me the money back. I'm sure that in a matter of days, maybe even weeks, everything will be fine. I'm sure that this is all coincidental. I'm sure that my entire identity isn't up for grabs. I'm sure that I'm safe.

But am I?

The truth is, I don't really know. I don't really even understand how any of this happened. I don't understand how someone got my check. My mail comes to a locked box which only I have the key for. I don't understand how someone was able to get both a copy of my ATM card AND the PIN number. I never lost my ATM card. I've never let someone borrow it. I almost always pay credit, I avoid putting my PIN in. I pay for everything over the Internet through Paypal. Paypal is supposed to be safe. I thought I was doing everything right. I thought I was protected. I thought this would never happen to me.

And while someone out there is having a great time with my money, I'm wondering how this even happened. I'm wondering how I can stop it from ever happening again. I'm wondering how I can stop feeling so angry at these motherfucking assholes for taking my time, my money and my sense of safety.

Chompers.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 23:37:00 +0000

So yeah, a dog bit me today. A dog that I've known for like six, maybe seven years. I was trying to open the door to pay for pizza and as I went to grab the knob he BIT MY GOD DAMNED HAND.

And if you've never been bitten unexpectedly please let me give you a verbal reenactment:

OWWWWWWWWWWWWWOHMYGODHEBITMEOHHHHHHHMYGODHEBITMEEEEEEE!

Only one exclamation point because well, I burst into tears. Being bitten unexpectedly hurts so much more than being bitten when you see it coming. The problem however is that you almost never see it coming. It's over as soon as you realize that someone slash something is compressing their jaw muscles in an effort to rip off a piece of your flesh.

So, I now have a gigantic bruise and neat little teeth marks as evidence. But the real scars? The real scars are psychological because wahhhhhhhh he bit me! HE BIT ME!

If I didn't love animals so much I would have punched him in the snout. It's wrong to punch dogs, right?

I'm ready for my own Wikipedia page.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 00:18:00 +0000

This weekend I drove to Long Beach to see the hospital where I was born. It was sort of surreal to look up at the big windows and then down the street and realize I was born within spitting distance of a freeway. Maybe it's my gigantic ego but I just assumed my birth was slightly less...or rather slightly more magical.

So I was driving around to the other side of the hospital to see more generic hospital outsideness and bam! Across the street is Long Beach Polytechnic High School. If you're not up on your trivia, this is the high school Snoop Dogg went to.

And then it totally clicked.

I WAS BORN IN THE HOOD.

And also, I'm totally cool. I was pushing my way out the birth canal and Snoop Dogg was learning some stuff across the street.

Seriously, I can't think of anything that would make me cooler. Other than actually being Snoop Dogg.

-------

I'm maybe, kind of thinking about doing this blogging thing again. Mostly because when people do things that make me feel stabby I don't know what to do if it isn't write melodramatically to all of you strangers. You see the dilemma, no?

So, uh, hi again!

March 31st, 2009.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 19:04:00 +0000

Today is my 25th birthday.

Cupcake?

Things you miss by not being related to me.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 13:00:00 +0000

Leaving a window open in my house is like an invitation for my cats to spend all day trying to find someway to get outside. I've seen Pokey take a flying leap onto the top of the screen and ride it down as the metal bent and broke. I've seen Shiloh use her head to create a hole just big enough for her small body to push through.

They are resourceful little assholes and why shouldn't they be? They have all the time in the world to think of ways to cost me money and raise my blood pressure.

So, obviously we never leave the house without making sure all the windows are closed. They may be assholes but they're my assholes.

Well, SOME of us never leave the house without making sure all the windows are closed. Last week my sister left a window open and I came home to see the screen pushed out (though, not broken), mud covering my bed and window sills and all three cats passed out from a long day of adventure.

OUTSIDE adventure.

I was glad they were all safe and I was pissed off at what could have happened. They could have been run over! They could have run away and gotten lost! They could have been stolen! They could have been cat raped!

Wait, what?

Yes, that was actually a concern of mine. When I mentioned yesterday that I was worried if any of them had been raped by a stray cat Mama Ex looked at me like I was nuts. I mean, what? It's possible, right? The cats have all been fixed, know nothing about sex and were outside alone for the first time in their lives.

THAT'S AN INVITATION TO BE CAT RAPED.

Am I right or am I right?

I'm barely here as it is.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 06:59:00 +0000

In the event of the end of the world (or near end of the world), I would like it to be known that I hope and pray to be killed in the initial blast slash epidemic slash whatever.

I am not a survivor. I have no desire to scavenge, hunt, gather, farm or do anything more strenuous than extend my arm to a shelf and then back to drop the item into a cart. I have no desire to sleep in the cold, to hide from zombies, to look for a survivor's colony or to take my shadoobies outside.

Also, if 99% of people are dead there will obviously be a bunch of cougars running around. Wild, rabid, hungry cougars encroaching upon civilization because there is no civilization anymore? DO YOU KNOW?

I will die. I will die of fear because I am afraid of cougars. They eat people! People who aren't doing anything to them just because that's what cougars do. And I? I have no desire to acquire cougar-defense skills. No, thank you, I think I'll pass on that.

So, that's it.

If for some reason modern conveniences become somehow unavailable - indoor plumbing, hot water, modeling reality shows - please, just put me out of my misery. Put me out of my misery because I'm barely here as it is. Seriously.

Really & Truly.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 03:02:00 +0000

Nate: Why do you treat me like shit all the time, Brenda?
Brenda: Because I've had a really fucked-up life and I need sarcasm to hide how ridiculously miserable I am!

I finished watching all five seasons of Six Feet Under today and can I just say, WHOA. I wish I could even form sentences worthy of describing such an amazingly brilliant piece of work. But I don't, SO HA.

But other things have been going on, things that are easier to write about. For instance, the past couple of weeks I have been jumping through hoop after hoop to get officially accepted to school which happened last week. So, that's good except that I'm extremely nervous that I can no longer learn. I mean, what if I'm too old, too stupid, too whatever to absorb this information. This whole shit load of information - I got a book of medical terminology that is about 2,000 pages long. So, that's where I am. Scared, excited, nervous and uh, oh yeah, scared.

The program doesn't start until July so I have plenty more time to work myself into a lather over this and any number of things.

Last week, Jeff was here dog-sitting for his parents and we spent the week together which was fun. They have a big-screen TV and the most comfortable bed ever, so it was like being on vacation. Oh, and being with Jeff was fun. He's back home now and starting a new job which makes me happier than almost anything.

In other news, I wish I had blue eyes. Mine are green and decidedly un-blue.

And fin.

A moo dinner.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 06:42:00 +0000

(all taken at moo creamery)

A video.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 01:07:00 +0000

Please enjoy this video of my mother giving her take on youtube, God and cripples. YOU'RE WELCOME.

Got a question for Mama Ex? Post it in the comments!

Jump start.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 01:06:00 +0000

Sitting in the Long's parking lot listening to a mix CD I made during the summer of 2003 (very, very bizarre mix of obscure country and r&b ballads) was the biggest mistake I made all day. It turns out that about ten minutes is the perfect amount of time to drain your battery.

When my sister came out and I turned the key all I heard was CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK.

Shit.

I called my mom who was down the street and she came to ~~berate~~ help me. I have two kinds of roadside assistance (the minimal coverage that comes with my insurance and warranty roadside assistance from Hyundai) but I figured I wouldn't really need them if I could just get a jump.

Little did I know how utterly terrifying "getting a jump" is. My mom pulled out long jumper cables and told me to hold the ends while she hooks up her end to her battery. I was legitimately terrified. She's hooking up big metal things to a major electrical current and I'm standing there like a dipshit holding the other end? Uh, no thanks. Plus, I don't know which is which. And I know this makes me sound like a dumb chick but I DON'T CARE. Jumping cars is man's work. Just like taking out the trash, killing spiders and listening to me complain.

Thanks to the little baby hay-suess that at the exact moment I was willing my worldly possessions away some dude showed up and practically begged to help. He hooked the whole thing up and in a few minutes I was on my way to have the battery checked by some twelve year old at Autozone.

And of COURSE it needs to be replaced because why should being unemployed, destitute and virtually prospectless stop the universe from dealing me a shit hand?

Naturally, the answer is that it shouldn't!

(Even though I really should have nothing to be happy about, I've managed to find five things to list for today. I actually looked for them throughout the day. I found myself searching for the small moments to remind me that losing a hundred bucks to my piece-of-shit car isn't the worst thing in the world. So, yeah, go read the good things that happened to me today!)

En Fuego.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 05:56:00 +0000

At 3 am I woke suddenly, with a sharp jolt of fear, to see bright orange reflected in the living room window. I thought instantly that it must be a car backing up but as I come out the sleepy fog I realize that something is very wrong.

I scream for the other sleeping people in the house and say loudly, clearly, "Fire! Fire!". They come running, half asleep, pulling on pajama tops and bottoms. We all run to the door and throw it open to see the garage of the house across the street fully engulfed in flames. There seems to be no one standing around outside and I begin to worry that they don't know, that no one has even called the fire department.

He ran across the street and pounded on the door. Slamming his fist against the door over and over only to turn and see that the people living there had already gotten out. The fire department had been called and you could hear the sirens blaring from Station 1 two blocks away.

By the time they arrive the house is now on fire and you can see that the wind, the wind which very rarely ever blows here, is now raging. Everyone is scared and it seems that the whole block is out in the street watching these men, these firemen, try to stop the blaze from spreading. It doesn't work and the house next door explodes into fire.

Everyone is safe. I keep saying that's the most important thing but it's not my house, it's not every single thing I've ever owned in my entire life being burned down for some unknown reason, some simple accident or malicious act of arson.

After what seems like days (and in retrospect actually is just a few hours) the fire is under control, the panic eases and the crowd starts to thin down. The houses are now just sticks of smoldering wood, the power and cable are out and the arson investigation unit has showed up. There are men working on the burned power poles and companies showing up to offer their services. The Red Cross even comes to help the displaced families.

The rumors of what happened are swirling and the news is here to film them all. They're asking everyone what they saw, what they know and I say nothing. I know nothing. Only that I saw a fire.

Around eleven the next morning the crime scene tape is cut and the scene is cleared. My now homeless neighbors return to sift through the ashes of their lives. It begins to rain, slowly at first but before long it is pouring. I think it's the perfect ending to the worst day of their lives.

(News article)

Rules by which I live

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 04:24:00 +0000

1. Argyle is the most fashionable of prints. I just counted and I own five argyle sweaters and three pairs of argyle socks. The only thing left to get is the argyle tattoo.

2. A lady always uses the restroom in private. ALWAYS. I don't care how long we've been together or how close we are because we will never be that close.

3. My perfect Saturday night involves the following things: Samuel Adams, Cops and a dude getting tasered/pepper-sprayed.

4. Cats are far superior to dogs and not just because they're blatantly smarter but because they have tricked us into waiting on them hand and foot. And for what? For a cuddle every now and then? A disgruntled look? Just take a minute to think about exactly how much you get out of owning a cat and then slap yourself silly for falling for their crazy scheme!

5. English men are infinitely more lovable. John Oliver? Tony Blair? Colin motherfucking Firth?

I REST MY CASE.

Oddball, peculiar, strange, curious, far-out.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 18:46:00 +0000

I found a notepad document titled "weird thoughts" today and when I opened it this is exactly word for word what was inside:

In the shower: had the image of 20/30 ladies exposing their vaginas to me and just waiting for me to get out of the shower. why? no idea.

And I have NO recollection of writing or thinking this.

I suppose I should lay off the booze a bit.

The thing that made me consider dating women.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 04:26:00 +0000

via Perez Hilton

Where is your belly button Stallone? WHERE? I need to know!

One month.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 05:00:00 +0000

A week ago I woke up at one o' clock (in the pea-em) and realized that I need to find things to do. I need to take a walk, breath some fresh air, go out to lunch, browse at the library, do something, do anything.

Other people (better people?) would be happy for this time in their lives - to be free from the hell that is daily employment and I am happy. Or rather, I am going to be happy and I am going to overcome my natural instincts to mope and pick at things and yell at people and cry. I'm especially going to resist the urge to cry because I have absolutely nothing to cry about. Nothing. At. All.

So today I spent a few hours listening to a Beyonce CD and cleaning the kitchen. Then I went to Sonic, a new Sonic, a Sonic which is like 2 miles closer than my old Sonic and you have really no idea how happy that is making me. After Sonic I went to have dinner with my family, including my grandma, the grandma that moved to Hawaii but who now lives here and whoa boy is that a story for another day. Tomorrow is my cousin's 16th birthday and we had cake and ice cream and played Bingo America (which is an awesome show hosted by the lovely Richard Karn on the Game Show Network). (Happy birthday, Moe!)

It's one step at a time to get my bearings back, to find out who I am without the crux of employment to define me. To establish a routine, to take this opportunity to do things I've always wanted to do. To cook more, to read more, to turn off the TV and go outside, to open the windows and take a nap with my cats. To be okay.

That's my plan.

Reading List 2008.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 05:59:00 +0000

My Lobotomy - Howard Dully
Just Breathe - Susan Wiggs
The Book of Lies - Brad Meltzer
The Appeal - John Grisham
That's Amore - Carol Grace
The Comforts of a Muddy Sunday - Alexander McCall Smith
To Have & To Hold - Jane Green
Before the Storm - Diane Chamberlain
The Beach House - Jane Green
The Average American Male - Chad Kultgen
Once Upon a Day - Lisa Tucker
Fearless Fourteen - Janet Evanovich
The Cure for Modern Life - Lisa Tucker
A Case for Christ - Lee Strobel
A Case for Faith - Lee Strobel
The Reading Group - Elizabeth M Noble
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not - Trish Ryan
A Drink Before Water - Dennis Lehane
Darkness, Take My Head - Dennis Lehane
Gone, Baby Gone - Dennis Lehane
Peyton Place - Grace Metalious
Lord John (3) - Diana Gabaldon
A Taste For It - Monica McInerney
The English American - Alison Larkin
That's Not My Name - Yvonne Navarro
Lord John (2) - Diana Gabaldon
Why Hasn't He Called? - Titus & Fadal - Reviewed

27.

I read twenty-seven books in 2008. That's a decrease of nine books from last year but overall not a bad haul for a very busy year.

I'm not big on resolutions (mostly because I never keep them) but for 2009 I want to read at least 37 books to out-do my total from 2007. I've already started with a Jonathan Kellerman paperback.

Keep checking the sidebar for my updated reading list for 2009!

Good News!

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 02:50:00 +0000

In the midst of feeling sorry for myself and planning for the future I forgot to mention that Mama Ex got engaged on Christmas! It was pretty much exactly how I always imagined it would happen and I personally couldn't be more thrilled for her. Her fiance and my future Super Awesome Stepdad is a really great guy and I'm ~~happy~~ honored to have him as the newest member of our family!

Congrats to the happy couple!

Now That I'm Unemployed.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 21:08:00 +0000

So, I was laid off yesterday and in the 25 hours since then I've been through a crazy amount of emotions. First I was understanding and sympathetic to the company because I know that these are tough times for everyone. Last Monday when the news broke that Flying J filed bankruptcy and the amount of money owed to the company was calculated to be enormous, I started to worry. There were a lot of closed door meetings last week and a lot of talk about what the future would be.

I expected lay-offs. I didn't expect to be laid off. Not that I was under any ridiculous presumption that I was indispensable (quite the opposite really) but I just assumed (hoped?) that I would be used to pick up the slack for the people laid off in other departments.

It just didn't work out that way. And it felt a little like a punch to the gut.

I started to get angry sometime yesterday afternoon. I started thinking about all the things I had done, had put up with, the times I spent crying and hyperventilating in the bathroom and I felt stupid. I felt stupid that I convinced myself to put up with that. I convinced myself that if I just sacrificed and did as much as I could that at some point that would be recognized.

But that's not how it works. I put up with some things that are so amazingly fucked up and the thanks I got was getting paid reasonably well for as long as I did. That's it.

The thing is that in many ways I'm grateful to be laid off. I'm happy to sleep in, draw unemployment, work temp jobs and wait for July to come around.

Also now that I'm unemployed, I think it's okay to tell you that I am enrolled in and planning to go to back school starting in July in a surgical tech program. I'm excited to make this change in my life because I think I'll be much happier.

I didn't expect this to happen but it'll be okay. I will be okay. I am okay.

There has been an amazing outpouring of love and well wishes and people willing to drink me into happiness, so I'm just really thankful for that. Uhm, that doesn't mean you can stop though. Send lots of hugs and vodka tonics to theexeverything [at] gmail.

PS - Which soap opera should I start watching? I have all the time in the world now!

This is as cheery as I get.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 18:34:00 +0000

Dear Santa,

I want a yacht this year. Make that happen.

Love,

The Ex

To, you know, show them.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 18:11:00 +0000

The party was a horrible piece of shit. It was fun, the decorations were nice and of course I looked lovely (ahem) but the food was terrible (as in nearly raw bacon wrapped around my “filet mignon” (was so not filet mignon, was more like round-cut pot roast) and raw carrots and undercooked potatoes and overcooked non-butterfly prawns) and the bartender wanted to charge me for an apple martini which uh, no? It was supposed to be open bar for everything up to the premium level (like 25 year old scotch premium, not apple pucker premium, you know?). So that was annoying and I had to tell her that I was running the show and I was absolutely not going to pay for a fucking martini AT AN OPEN BAR THAT I PLANNED AND MADE THE RULES FOR.

She was unmoved and so I asked for a glass of champagne. A champagne I just looked up on the BevMo site and is worth like 60 bucks a bottle. So I drank TWO bottles. To, you know, show them and stuff.

The next day I really, really genuinely regretted thinking I was able to drink so much champagne. I woke up at 7am in the hotel with a sandpaper mouth and a piercing pain that reminded me I’m clearly, once again, too fucking old. I should just get a good pair of sweat pants, a walker and call it good. Applesauce City, ahoy!

In other news, remember my bright idea to make blankets for everyone for Christmas? I’m regretting it. More on that later.

Brief Party Recap.

theexeverything@gmail.com (The Ex) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 23:28:00 +0000

Christmas Party 08
Originally uploaded by exeverything

It was fun.
I drank.
That's what my hair and make-up looked like.

I'm really rushed to get my christmas presents done.
Don't know when I'm going to get one single second to breathe let alone blog.

xoxo.