Laura's Handy Guide to English

So, I've come to realize that I apparently have an odd way of speaking. I use words and phrases that many people have never heard of and thus don't understand. So, for lack of having anything better to post about-- er, I mean, because I am so considerate-- I decided to try and compile a small list.

• "I'm sweating like a whore in church."

This one should be fairly obvious, and I've heard other people use this phrase before. Either I'm hot, nervous, or otherwise unusually sweaty.

• "I'm starvin' balls."

This delightful phrase was born at the Steak n Shake where I used to work. First you could eat. Then you're hungry. Then you're starving. Then you're starvin' balls. This is an incessantly powerful hunger that needs to be remedied as soon as possible.

• "I smell what you're steppin' in."

This means, "I understand," or, "I get your meaning."

• Prostitot

This is another one I've heard other people use before. This word suggests that the person in question is a youth with shamefully low morals for their age. It can also denote a child who is wearing clothing that is far too revealing to be appropriate.

• Guyliner

'Guyliner' is what I like to call it when men wear eyeliner like women. "Wow, look at his guyliner." Drag queens do not use guyliner, however. They use eyeliner like the rest of us girls.

• Titscrepancy

This one is one of my favourites. Have you ever seen a woman walking around in a shirt that is sewn or draped to provide an interesting detail on the front, only to realize that wearing this shirt has caused her breasts to appear misaligned, whether vertically or horizontally? That's a titscrepancy. Think 'discrepancy' but with breasts involved.

• "What does it do?"

This phrase seems to be normal. You're probably thinking, "Laura, why would you put this perfectly average question here?" It's simple. When I ask "What's it do?" I am not asking about the function of something. I know what a pan, for example, does. When I ask "What's it do?" what I really mean is "Where am I supposed to put this thing?" Why don't I just ask that? If I knew, I think I'd be less certifiably crazy.

• Rageface

"Man, I ragefaced hard the other night." That is to say, something happened to make me extreeeemely angry, so my expression changed to suit the situation. Thus, rageface.

Now, I use far more unusual words and phrases than this, but I can't think of anymore at the moment because my roommate has been hogging the bathroom for about half and hour and I have to urinate. This is about to make me rageface.

Dear Blog, I'm an Idiot

It's true. I'm fairly certain at this point in my life that I'm the biggest ass to have ever lived. Aside from my crappy job, feeling sick all the time, and my financial woes, I'm also emotionally warped to the point that if my feelings had a physical appearance, they'd look something like this...Hey, you guys.

Lord. That's about right.

The first boyfriend I ever had was when I was 18. It was fairly serious, and though I insisted on not being ready for sex, he always tried and tried to pressure me into it. Do it. No. If you love me, you'll do it. If you love ME, you'll stop asking. Do it. I said no. Thank God I never did. It was an abusive relationship, emotionally, and he pretty much made me feel worthless all the time. Eventually I grew a backbone, stood up to him, and dumped him. It took a lot, and one of the last things he said to me was "You're never going to find another guy who'll treat you half as good as I did."

I didn't think that was possible, of course. I mean, with the way he treated me on an everyday basis, I was damn sure that I would find a guy who would at least treat me marginally better in six months or so.

I was single for three years. Those years grew very long, all things considered. I went through the healing process, I got over my ex completely, and I tried to put myself out there and meet people.

The next guy I fell for was a difficult situation. It involved a jealous on-again, off-again ex who wanted to keep the fellow's man-parts in a vice-trap. God help me, every single time he'd try to spend time with her to work things out between them, and she'd ditch him, I'd be there, whether it was to talk, or to play Magic, or to just sit on the couch and watch Venture Brothers or Metalocalypse. I remember waking up to answer my phone at 4 AM once because I wanted to make sure he was doing alright. I bent over backwards more than most girlfriends would do. And I wasn't even dating him. He wouldn't give me the time of day, because he wanted to try and work things out with his lying, cheating ex.

I was a silver medal. A backup plan.

That realization hurt a lot. It was then that I began to wonder what about me wasn't good enough. I gave and gave and gave emotionally until I didn't have anything left to give. I never asked for anything in return but a chance, and I couldn't even get that. I told him I couldn't carry on like that anymore. He didn't even seem to understand why I was upset. When I tried to explain myself, he got defensive and angry with me. He couldn't or wouldn't understand why I was so hurt by all of it.

I remember, one of the last times I actually talked to him seriously was an evening when I'd gone over to his house to play Magic with him. We sat in his tiny little kitchen until around 5 AM, and then we started talking. I asked him how things were going. We talked more. And it was then, sitting there in that little kitchen filled with houseplants, looking at his vaguely-yellow linoleum floor, that I realized something.

I was never going to be good enough for him. Ever. There was literally nothing more that I as a human being could do to win him over. He had to make that decision himself. And he already had made his decision. I told him that, with an amused smirk. I also told him that he was stupid. I'd realized, in that startling moment of clarity, that even I deserved better than that-- and my self esteem is just terrible.

I told him he was stupid and that I wasn't going to wait around for him to take his man-parts out of the vice.

We haven't actually talked seriously since then. I told myself I was over him and everything was dandy. I even went on a couple of dates. Nothing was really serious and nothing went anywhere, but I tried. I felt like I was doing great.

Then, tonight, another one of those moments of clarity hit me. But not good clarity. Bad, bad clarity I could have done without. I miss him. I still want him to want me. What's wrong with me? Do I just enjoy abuse? Am I a sucker for punishment? Do I desperately want to believe that even though someone treats a person like crap, they can still love them?

Dear Blog...

I'm a damned idiot!

High School Reunion

So, I got my invitation to my high school's five-year reunion the other day. I opened it, looked at it, and promptly threw it away. Perhaps that seems cold or callous, but I've got my reasons.

First of all, high school was not a great time of my life. Why would I want to go back and relive my 'glory days' for a night if they weren't all that glorious? I spent a lot time in high school depressed and miserable.

Second of all, I had very few friends, and even fewer who were actually in my class. I can count the number of close friends in my class on one hand. To that point, I honestly disliked half of my class. The immaturity, the drama, the teasing, the exclusions because certain people just weren't popular-- it was stupid. THEY were stupid. Lord knows they probably still are.

Third, I'd have to pay 25 bucks to attend the reunion. No offense, but that's a lot of money for someone who works a crappy job. That's a lot of money that I just don't have. I budget down to like... five-dollar increments with my paychecks. Petty cash doesn't happen.

And finally, I was best known not for being Laura Hermsdorfer, but for being Jean Hermsdorfer's daughter. My mother was the secretary at my high school, and she was awesome at what she did. Not only that, but everyone loved her. Unfortunately, my mother passed away in August of 2008. I graduated in 07. So yeah. That was kind of fresh on everyone's minds, and because everyone loved my mother so much (I can't blame them, she was amazing), I'm pretty sure that I'd have to hear people mentioning her all evening. I don't want that. I honestly don't think I could handle that.

Back when I was working at Panera Bread, one of my old classmates came by to eat. She recognized me, smiled, and said "Hi! How's your mom doing?"

God help me, I just stood there for a second, staring. I couldn't think of anything even remotely appropriate to say. All my other coworkers on the line were looking at me. It felt like my discomfort was contagious. I got paranoid. I almost burst into tears. But holding my composure, I just said something to the effect of, "Well, my mother actually passed away a few months ago."

Then SHE caught the discomfort and walked away without saying much of anything. I proceeded to go to the walk-in cooler and there, I cried a bit. I actually cried a lot in that cooler, back when I worked at Panera. Back then, it was so close to her death that I was struggling a lot with it, and holding composure was a difficult thing 24/7.

Wow, tangent. Well, suffice to say.... I'm not going to the reunion. Yeah. That's all I got.

This is a Post About Nothing

Seriously, I have no goal in mind and nothing to talk about as I type this, so I think I'll just go over the basics. I have a headache. It's been one of those obnoxious ones that keeps PRETENDING to go away, only to come back the next morning. Ugh.

My back itches, but it's in the one spot you can't reach unless you wanna rub on a corner like a bear against a tree.

My hair is a damn mess.

I don't want to go to work again today. The last two days were horrible.

World of Warcraft isn't working right now. I blame patch day.

I'm torn between trying to go back to sleep to fight off this headache, and staying awake. The urge to sleep is winning.

Yeah. I think I'm gonna go back to bed for awhile.

This post sucked.

My OkCupid Misadventures

Alright, I will start with this plain and simple fact. I can't get a date to save my life, it seems. Something about me just consistently is 'not good enough,' and I get turned down. A lot. So, I thought I'd try out OkCupid and see if perhaps my luck would be better in meeting men who share my interests and so on.

I have received an overwhelming (to me, anyway) response of messages.

Unfortunately, half of them I can't even respond to adequately. About a quarter of them are just plain creepy. Which means that I respond to approximately 1/4 of the messages I get.

And so, if any of my readers are or ever end up being OkCupid (or any dating site) users, I'm just gonna post these tips and suggestions. These are just from my point of view, so I could be totally wrong, but here they are.

• Winking

Okay, so one of the functions on OkCupid is that you can send someone a 'Wink.' Basically, you do this when you think someone is attractive or interesting or something. Here's the message you get when someone winks at you.

I just winked at you!

If you'd like to strike up a conversation with me, simply reply with something short and encouraging, like "Thanks for the wink! What's new?"

I hate winks. So much. First of all I think they're cheesy as all get-out in real life. Internet winks are no better. Also, just from my standpoint, if YOU'RE interested in getting to know ME, tell me why. Tell me your interests. Don't just throw a wink at me and pray I respond.

That brings me to my next point.

• Messages that are Hard to Respond to

A lot of the time, I'll get a message that I literally feel like I can't respond to.

Well then, hello there. :)

What the Hell am I supposed to say to that? Hi? Messages like these give me nothing to work with. At least give me something. 'I enjoyed your profile because...' 'What do you think of...?' Something. Anything.

• Poorly Written Messages

Maybe this is only because I'm a grammar Nazi, but I absolutely will not respond if someone sends me something like this.

sexy with great musicl taste ..very nice!

Lord. You could be handsome, like all the same things that I do, have a physics degree, and love 80s music, and I still would not respond if you sent me something like that. Why? It makes you sound lazy and unintelligent. Capitalize. Punctuate.

• Awkward Questions

No, really.

hi...what do you think about guys wearing panties?

...What? This is the first impression you want to give me? I suppose that I don't really care what kind of undergarments men wear, as long as they're comfortable with wearing them. But really, that isn't something you ask someone in the first conversation. Would you ask someone that on a first date? Most people would wait until date two or three for that, and if they wouldn't, then that's just really special.

• Propositions

These are some of my least favourites. At least I can occasionally get a laugh out of the awkward questions.

Hey, do you want to watch me jack off over cam?

No, no I do not. Don't get me wrong, I don't have any problems with penises or masturbation. But I don't want to watch you getting handsy with yourself. Franky, I think that the women who encourage men to proposition other women for this should be ashamed of themselves. Hey, sluts. You're not helping. And aside from the obvious reasons as to why I don't care to watch you masturbate in front of your webcam, I have numerous other issues that could result. You could have an STD or something that results in what looks like little cauliflowers growing all over your manparts. You could have a rat nest growing in your pubes. You could have an uncomfortably-small penis! I don't care to see these things.

And finally...

• Messages that Genuinely Creep Me Out

I get these rarely, thank God, but every once in awhile I get a damn scary one.

u attracting me really


iam sherif from egypt

i will be in ur country soon..we can met and i think it will be interesting..u will be with man not like u met b4

i love that u r tall as u write;;;i like that too much

also it will amazing if u like high heels too

come come to start this attractive journey ,, trust my words as i will make new in ur life,,dont ignore my msg i will wait ur reply

God, I feel cruised just by reading that. Aside from the obvious grammatical errors, this is still a creepy message. Mister Stalker Man from Egypt, no. Just no. I do not want your in my city, I do not want you in my state. I do not want you in my country. I do not want you in a box, I do not want you with a fox.

I'm getting all Seussical here. Never a good sign.

But in all seriousness, don't send someone a creepy, molesty message like this. It's terrible and it makes women feel like their ladyparts are shriveling up and dying.

If he is awaiting my reply, then he is still awaiting my reply. I'm never going to respond to that. Ever. Unless you count this blog post as a response.

But at any rate, this concludes my blog post. To sum it all up-- be intelligent, be personable, be friendly, but don't be awkward and molesty.

I Almost Posted This Last Night...

...but I didn't because I had a headache. You know how I was all feeling like crap and was dreading going to work? I felt terrible all evening. To make it worse, I was closing the Target Cafe instead of Starbucks. To make it even worse than that, every single customer I had was a damn jackass.

At one point, I'm busy panning pizzas for the next day's use. I see a woman approach the counter. I smile at her and say "Hi! I'll be with you in just a moment, hon." I begin peeling off my plastic gloves and head for a sink to wash my hands really quickly. I take two steps and hear a whistle. Not like a 'you're cute' whistle, but a 'I'm gonna call my dog' whistle. I stop and turn and look at this broad. She glares at me expectantly. At this point, I'm fairly certain I could have lost my job if I had done what I wanted to do, which was refuse the woman service and tell her that I'm not her damn dog.

Instead, I walked over to the counter with the most condescending smile I could. I took her order for a pretzel and a soda. When I handed the items to her, she was all "Eeew, why is this cup all oily?!"

My response? "Well ma'am, I'd gotten some vegetable oil on myself while I was panning pizzas. I was going to wash my hands up so this wouldn't have happened, but I also respect that you were in a hurry to get your purchase."

Broad glares at me and storms away. That felt good at least.

Later on, three kids show up-- little high school broad who, I'm sorry, has to have some kind of eating disorder or is on some kind of drug because people are not naturally that skinny. Bitch was gaunt!-- and her two male friends. They're rude to me from the start ("Well can't you CUSTOM make a pizza? No? Well that's gay"), then they finally place their order for a pizza, a pretzel, and two small icees. I place the cups on the counter in front of them. One of the guys, who is leaning against the counter with his back to me, doesn't even look at me as he just thrusts the money over his shoulder into my face.

Seriously?

I look at the money, then at the guy. I don't move to take the money. He turns and glares at me, then waves the money at my face. I take it. More condescending smiles from me. I give him his change and start getting the pizza and pretzel.

And then I hear it. The incredulous conversation begins. "THIS is a small icee?! This thing is tiny!" "I could get a large one for cheaper at a gas station!" "I didn't know they were this small!"

Okay, I'm just going to address those separately.

1. Yes, the small icee (and small soda, because we use the same cups for both) are very small. This is to encourage people to get a larger size.
2. Yes, you could get a larger one for about the same price or cheaper at a gas station. However, it's kind of like when you go to a theater. Because you're already there and there isn't any competition, Target can set whatever prices they want because they basically have a monopoly on all products and items in that store. This isn't hard to understand. I don't make the prices. Target does, because they can get away with it, and people pay them.
3. No. There is no way in Hell that you didn't realize that they were that small. Not only are the cup sizes shown in illustrations on the order boards, they're on display in the form of the three sizes sitting on the counter on display right in front of you. Now either you HAD to know that the cups were that small, OR you just weren't paying a damned ounce of attention because you stupid children were high out of your damned minds. Be honest.

At any rate, I get the pizza and the pretzel for the rude teens, only to see the guy who'd paid for everything standing at the counter, glaring at me, holding the cups in question. "I want my money back for these! This is a ripoff!" he says loudly, practically yelling in my face. I just shrug, place the food items down on the counter, take the cups back (And he looks shocked that I plucked them from his hands; did he think that I was going to let him keep the cups to get icees in AND get his money back?), and give him his $2.78 back.

Every single customer I had was like that. Assholes. Jerks. Rude. Whatever you want to call it. And because everyone was difficult, I fell further and further behind in my closing duties. The person who closes the Cafe is supposed to be out of there by 8:30 at the latest. I was there until almost 10.

I really hate people a lot. So I guess all I'm really trying to say here is, be kind to the person who you go to for service-- be it going to a restaurant, talking to your bank teller, paying your cable bill-- whatever. Don't be the jackass customer that people have to write a rant about.

So Apparently I'm Still Quasi-Dying

I've had pneumonia recently, which isn't all that unusual for me. I guess I'm susceptible to it. Well, for the past few days I've been feeling better-- a little woozy, but nothing bad enough to ruin my day. Today when I got out of bed, I was fine. I went about my morning business of showering and getting some breakfast (French Toast sticks are SO DELICIOUS), and relaxed because I knew I had to go to work later today.

My roommate left for work, and I decided that I was very thirsty; not just thirsty, but downright parched. I sat back in my chair and thought about the carton of Tropicana Fruit Punch Whatever in the refrigerator. It felt like it was going to be a long walk, but I decided that my thirst needed quenching.

When I stood up, it was like someone turned the room sideways on me. I was dizzy, nauseous, and my eyes hurt like crazy, as if someone had been pressing on them. Luckily, a bit of flailing saved me (I caught ahold of my desk with one hand and the electrical cord from my Rocky Horror Picture Show light and kept myself standing).

"Huh," I thought to myself. "That was weird." After a few moments, the dizziness seemed to ease off and so I began toddling my way toward the kitchen. I rounded the corner into the hallway and abruptly face-planted on the tile. I don't know if I fell asleep or passed out or what, but the next thing I remembered was thinking about how COLD I was.

Of course I was. I was laying on a tile floor and the air conditioner was running about ten feet away. I then became aware of the fact that I was still incredibly thirsty. I tried to get up. My legs didn't want to work. They felt like weights, or like jellies. Or maybe jelly-weights.

Hell if I know. So, I kind of wormed/crawled my way across the hall and into the kitchen. I used the refrigerator door handle to pull myself into a seated position, opened the door, and grabbed the precious carton of Tropicana Fruit Punch. I thought about getting a glass, but those were in the cabinet above the counters. No way I was reaching those. So, I just opened the carton and took a few swigs, half-propped against the refrigerator. I sat there for a good fifteen minutes, trying to summon up the strength to move.

Luckily, the fruit punch revived me a bit, so I got to my feet with a bit of flailing, put the rest of the juice back in the refrigerator, and stumbled my way back to my room, clinging to the walls for support. I absently reflected on how sad this was.

Now I'm safely seated in my chair, and I'm dreading trying to go to work like this today. Hopefully I don't fall down and make an ass of myself in front of people. A little voice in my head keeps telling me that I should maybe go back to the doctor, but I definitely don't have the money for that. I guess I'll just hope for the best and think positive. Stay hydrated. Whatever.

First Post, and Dear Roommate

Well, a lot of people have been suggesting I write a blog, since I seem to have a lot of things to say, and apparently when I write about things that make me rage or suffer, people find it amusing. So, drumroll, here it is. My super sparkly awesome grown-up-person blog. I'm also dedicating this post to my roommate because of how special my day was because of him.

Dear [NAME REMOVED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT],

As usual, it was no problem to drop you off at work today, since I'm off myself. However, due to the apartment feeling like it's about 30 degrees because of the way you run the air conditioner and the fact that even if I shut the AC off, it will remain that cold for another six hours or so, I decided that I was going to curl up in bed under my nice, warm blankets. I began feeling drowsy. Here is where I have shown wisdom and consideration, [NAME REMOVED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT].

I reached out into the frigid abyss that is my room and grabbed my phone. I set my alarm for 8, since that way I would be awake well in time to pick you up from work at 10. I also knew I would most definitely wake up if you messaged me saying you god off early, because I picked a loud, obnoxious message tone and set the phone on the dresser right next to my ear. Just as I was dozing off, the loud, obnoxious message tone went off. It was from you, informing me that you were SOoooooooooooooooo tired, give or take a few 'o's. Well guess what, . So was I. At any rate, I ignored that message and went to sleep.

You messaged me again later, forcing me to wake up because I didn't want to make you have to walk home.

Whatcha up to?

Half asleep and cranky, I replied. Why?

Just curious.

I was napping, I sent you and snapped the phone shut, hoping you'd get the hint.

But no, you didn't. Sorry to wake you then!

Well, I appreciated that, at least. I wasn't so cranky as to ignore the fact that you apologized. So I replied, No problem. I figured now the conversation had to be over. I shut the phone and then my eyes.

More obnoxious noise. It was like each time that annoying little sound played, it inserted a large fishhook under my skin and determinedly dragged me closer and closer to being awake. I cracked open a single eye and read the message. I may be off in like an hour, not sure.

Once again, [NAME REMOVED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT], I DO appreciate you telling me this. Seriously, I do. That's relevant information, even though you don't actually know anything for sure. Ok.

OBNOXIOUS MUSIC. Literally about to rage and bite my phone to silence it forever, I open it to read, I'll let you know as soon as I know.

I kind of figured you would. Really. It's a long walk from your workplace to the apartment. Ok... I send again, clinging to the pathetic hope that you'll get the hint and just not message me anymore until you need a ride.

Silence. Blessed silence. I settled back on my pillow, and shut my eyes. And all of a sudden, like a blithe little rogue stealthing up to me and abruptly beating me with a sack of bricks, I heard the message noise again. I began to wonder why you were doing this to me, [NAME REMOVED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT]. Depends on business.

Ok. I'm fully awake now, so you don't have to worry about not reaching me, I sent back, trying to indirectly inform you how angry I was that you had ruined my nap, and threw the phone down.

I swear I heard my sanity shatter like a fine pane of glass as I heard that disgusting message tone again. "WHAT DO YOU WANT TO TELL ME NOW?!" I shrieked as I picked up the phone. Sorry.

I'm sorry too, [NAME REMOVED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT]. Sorry that this had to happen, sorry I got cross with you, sorry that they're ditching a lot of the new Cataclysm features, sorry that they annihilated the rogue talent trees and you're cranky about that because your main is a rogue, sorry that I'm worried they're going to do the same thing to the mage trees.

And mostly, if anyone has actually read this, I'm sorry to YOU people, for electing to read this ramble. Then again, you started reading this knowing it was a rant, so you know what? I take that back. It's your own faults.