Wa-wa-watch

F. U. U. S. A.

F. U. U. S. A.

America turns out to be a terrible place after all. So I found this great site where you can watch all these documentaries for free and I feel like in the past week I've gained a lot of insight from wasting my time on there. Not only can a person be tortured without being charged with anything, you and your 86 year old grandmother can be searched at the airport everytime you go because you wrote a compelling essay about the secrets of the Iraqi war.  I've learned from other shows that crack addicts become call girls, Patti Smith was a badass, and old people can make porn. Gross. 

Anyway, I feel like people should watch it.

Ryan B is the way to B.

It's 3 am. I can't sleep. All I hear is the hum of Arrested Development coming from the other room because the dumbass that built this home made the weirdest room ever with two doorways, and only one door, with a closet the size of all the other bedrooms combined. It smells like old people. 

I'm writing this so Ryan can have one last hoo-rah reading my blog before he scoots on off to Madagascar. Are there even people there? I'm going to miss that Cobra.

So it's finally summer. Thank heavens. But now I realize how bored I am, and how much I need to get crackin' on those hobbies! Last summer was the greatest. I made new friends. We lit roman candles out the windows of my car which resulted in me putting out a small fire that started on Ryan's chest, we stayed out late, had fake acid trips, took real life spontaneous road trips, hobo camped in Austin's field, ate peaches in gigantic storage rooms, captured flags, waited for free doughnuts, and had FP on a regular basis back when my boss didn't give a crap. What happened? People move out. Bitches move in. Jesus calls people places and we all actually have to work. 

Being a grown up isn't that great. But being the friend of a cobra is fun. Even if we can never have that summer ever again, we can take something from it. 

1. Don't leave the bag of unlit fireworks by your feet when driving around and lighting fireworks that tend to backfire.

2. Don't go to the Mapleton gas stations past dark because cops won't believe that you are 18.

3. Always be someone's bitch.

4. Find something to do besides loiter.

5. Loiter often.

Seacrest out.

person-cuted. It's kinda like persecuted.

Why am I writing a blog on a Friday night? Also, my class is over, so why am I still writing on this thing at all?

Oh maybe because my brain is going to explode. I had the urge to send out a mass text today saying something along the lines of "please, anyone, help me from going crazy." Who do I think I am? George Bailey? Oh I would give anything for Clarence to come down and let me be his wing-gaining project. 

Life is a bitch sometimes. I have a good day, and then I have an awful day, and then I have a mediocre at best day. I was told that I am a dark person. Is this true? I just feel like me. Yeah sure, I have always liked going to funerals and I used to pretend to be an orphan or a persecuted Jew as a kid. Didn't everyone do that? I was normal otherwise. I spent most afternoons "playing school" in my basement. My classroom was complete with a chalkboard, a real school desk, and a projector. I dug holes in the garden and made rivers out of them. I knew so many facts about slavery! I ate pansies and hated crawling on my knees. I was your average wuss that later looks back on her life and realizes all the weird habits she used to have which continue to contribute to her supposed darkness. 

But hey, I never tortured animals.

I never lit things on fire.

I never rolled up cocoa powder and leaves in a napkin and made my friend smoke it. Ok...yeah I did. 

Childhood really does determine the type of adult a person becomes. I have a friend who grew up feeling no love from his family, who was forced to believe things he didn't want to, and was fed strange ideas. To this day, he still deals with the feelings he formed as a kid, and the hatred that he built up in his heart for his own gene pool. 

So we have a few solutions here. 1. don't have kids. 2. don't have kids unless you are mentally and economically prepared to do so. 3. don't have too many kids. 

Don't clone me. For the sake of humanity, please don't.

For the love.

So I've been thinking about the past a lot lately. Sometimes I have no idea how to feel about my past, or what to make of the way I have transformed. 

I used to be a shy, innocent, snobbishly adorable brainiac. I sometimes wish I could be just that type of person all grown up, but experiences, heartbreaks, failures, attitudes and even the state of the world we live in gets in the way of this purity and beautiful childlike adulthood. 

I often look at small children and marvel at the world they see. I can't count the number of times I have been filled with sadness at these moments, when I realize they won't stay a child forever and that someday they will have to see the bitterness of what is around them. At the same time, I get so excited at the idea of what they can become. I only hope they do better than I ever did. Old people make me feel the same way. I cry for the things they have seen, and smile at the thought of all they have gained in one lifetime. 

Being the youngest in my family, I never really got to see a human being grow up entirely until my sisters had kids. I used to make fun of my sister Kelly for how she cried when I first went off to kindergarten, but I can see why! Kids are cruel. Adults can be even meaner. The world is a frightening place full of preying wolves. 

However, there is also so much beauty in the world, and kindness waiting to be shown. Last night at work, I was stressed out of my mind and doing the work of 4 employees. People were losing patience with me and God forbid they had to wait for their food longer than usual. Out of the crowd of assholes came one mild and carefree samaritan. She saw me trying my hardest, and offered to help me out. She even cleaned off a table and rearranged the chairs for me. Why can't the world see things the way this woman did? I wish I was that type of person. A shining beacon in this place of cloudy pizza-filled brains and stubborn hearts. 

"Children don't grow up. Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up. We're just a million little gods making rainstorms turning every good thing to rust." --Arcade Fire.

A little piece of rhyme in the middle of a beat

My mind has been racing lately. I've been having scary vampire dreams due to reading Dracula for my English class, I'm stressing about what I'm going to become, and school is all around bumming me out. 

Here's a few things I have decided though. 

1. I want to become a professional mourner. Those over-dramatic wailers employed by funeral homes can get paid thousands of dollars per funeral! I just need to work on my crying without laughing skills.

2. I don't want to get married ever. Or at least not for a loooooonnnnggggggg time. There are just so many other things I want to do! And I want to finish school first. And also, nobody would want to marry me right now anyways. My new haircut supposedly makes me look like a 12 year old boy. However, I love it. I see married couples come into the restaurant all the time that look completely miserable with each other. I want to be sure, before I do anything so drastic.

3. I am not moving back home for the summer. I love my family, and home is a pretty easy life, but now that I've tasted what its like to be on my own, I don't want to go back. 

4. I'm going to sign up to be a movie extra for the summer. If I only have to work 4 random days a month, I can make about $1,000. Money has obviously been on my brain lately if you couldn't tell.

5. I'm going to start playing my violin again. A kid I went to high school with even asked me if I am interested in being in a band with him. It could be fun.

6. I am super excited for tonight. Even though I have to go to traffic school (kick me in the face) David is coming home, and we are going to make a huge delicious dinner because of his recent obsession with food network.

7. The pizza man suit at work is hysterical.

8. I kinda want a tattoo (but don't tell my family).

9. I really despise Pampers the cat.

10. The asshole that has been running that obnoxious motor outside my window for the past 3 hours is about to get a telepathic beat down.

Man, I'm road trippin'

It seems like all my blog posts are about my sorry little life, so let's take a break from my relationship issues and focus on something even more carnal and pitiful...the Phoenix Zoo.

It's not that the place itself is pitiful, it just hurts when you really stop and think about all those animals being subjected to the ways of humans through stinky glass cages. It's bad enough living among humans as a human, but I can't even imagine being taken from my natural habitat and being forced to sit in an enclosed place while snotty-nosed children and their raunchy parents stare sweaty and wide-eyed at me through bars and fences. Whoa, how's that for a long run-on sentence? This doesn't mean that I don't enjoy the zoo though. I love animals. I just wish they had an interactive zoo where all the animals could talk back to you. That, my friend, would be quite the learning experience. 

My favorite part of the excursion was actually the lady selling entrance tickets in the booth by the front gates. She was homely and she loved her job. I could immediately sense the excitement radiating from her bosom, which was somewhere hidden underneath that frumpy zoo polo. I happen to have a weird obsession with pandas and elephants, so, knowing that I would make her day by asking a question, I inquired about the zoo's panda ownership status. To my great disappointment....there were no pandas. "However we are trying to obtain a red panda! Here's a map. On the front is a baby orangatan named Lola! She may not be out today because the weather might not be warm enough..." I could have listened to that lady talk all day. It was like speaking to a four year old about "diggers" and dinosaurs. 

There were a lot of other strange people in the the city of Phoenix, not just at the zoo. Take the androgenous weirdo at the concert who talked with absolutely no volume control for example. "I JUST SPILLED  A BEER ON SOME GUY'S BACK! HE DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE! MY NAME'S RACHEL! I DON'T EVEN REALIZE EVERYONE CAN HEAR ME AND IS QUESTIONING MY GENDER!" Needless to say, I got sick of her pretty fast. There was also the lady at Coco's restaurant who had some sort of bias against me. I asked if they had coke. She said no, Pepsi products only. Bummer. Then get me a Dr. Pepper please? No. Pepsi products. Yeah...thats why I said...Oh nevermind you ol' hag. Dr. Pepper is a universal drink that is carried by Pepsi and Coca Cola. I know this. Obviously she didn't, so for the next half hour we were there she hated me. 

So between the zoo's absence of pandas and our 30 mile drive down a dirt road in Navajo nation, I had quite an enjoyable adventure in what I imagined as a bland state, but was pleasantly surprised at its hint of sweetness. Oh Arizona. You desert dessert.