Feral the Cat

My brother's new cat.

A Day Late, But Not a Dollar Short

I completely missed 11.11.11. I mean, I was around for it, I didn't like sleep straight through 24 hours. But it didn't really register to me. I even told Jeremy about it before he went to work. And it was all over Facebook, but I mean really, what are you supposed to do? It was Veteran's Day as well, which seemed more important to me but all I saw on Facebook was people talking about it being Nigel Tufnell day. That's great, I get the joke guys. Maybe they just don't know of any veteran's that they think a fictional character is more relevant. Maybe that's just where we've come to as a society. I'm constantly telling Jeremy I can't stand today's youth, this is one of many, many reasons. (Today's youth. I'm 23, am I still part of that youth? God I hope not. They're dreadful little assholes who can't drive and have no sense of self-worth or the world around them.) The date did finally register to me though when I was signing off on last night's projects at work and I had to write the date. Normally most people write it as the day the month the year, but I write it as the month the day the year, unless I'm specifically asked to do otherwise. But last night I was like, I can write it any way I want, cause it's going to read correctly in any country! Assuming those countries use numbers instead of characters. Do other countries, like China or Iraq, use characters instead of numbers? I have no idea about these things.

So that's it. Oh, and I'm finally going to my brother's new place tonight. We were supposed to go last weekend but he cancelled cause he had to work... I'm sure. But we're definitely going tonight. And I get to see their new cat, it's called Feral and she was a rescue who cost a lot of money to spay. Damn animals. If I ever get a new cable for my camera I'll post a picture.

Memoriiieeesss...

There's a dude here fixing the kitchen sink. I threatened to call a plumber and send my landlord the bill, so he finally decided to call me back and tell me that he was sending his own plumber. Which is good, cause the last time he tried to fix something himself we ended up with the sink that never drains. The plumber looked under the sink and he said, 'Boy Jimmy really Mickey Moused this.' Jimmy is our landlord. And the plumber made fun of his plumbing skills. I laughed. Then he started telling me about when he was here on 9/11 and he was watching the footage on the TV, whoever was living here at the time had some plumbing problems and he went on for a bit. Then he couldn't remember where his channel locks were. They were in his back pocket. So he remembers being here over ten years and what problem the people were having and where the TV was, but he didn't remember that he put his channel locks in his back pocket. Memory is funny that way. For example, I don't remember what was going on exactly when mom told us that grandma died but I know it was late at night and she had to wake me up and about a week later my brother was upset and crying and mom asked if he could sleep with me and I said no. And I still feel horrible about it. I remember things like that all the time. Literally all the time. I always remember when I do things that I regret, or that were stupid, or when I lied. I remember it vividly. It's like an intense guilty conscience that plagues me with a laundry list of events reminding me that I should've acted differently because it would've taken a moments thought to just keep my mouth shut and not make a crass joke about church. (That's a stupid story: Jeremy's friends girlfriend couldn't make it out to dinner cause she had choir practice and I made some comment about church and his friend says, she loves to sing, and I said, so do I but I won't go to church for it. Seriously. I had to say that? One of the many reasons that friend considered me disrespectful and probably still doesn't like me.)

The point of this is that there's this show called 'Unforgettable' which I've never watched. It's about this chick who has a super autobiographical memory, which means she can remember every event that ever took place in her entire life with perfect clarity. She can probably even remember being in the womb. (Jeremy made that joke about me when I was telling him about Scooter's kindergarten graduation and the swing set I was playing on when we passed the spot in the park where it was held. Scotty's four years older than me. So I was like, 1 at the time.) And I was thinking, there's only a handful of people in the entire world with this ability.

Guys, what if I'm one of them?

Me, Marilu Henner, and a couple other people whose names weren't mentioned in that article that I read. But then there was this test and it had a bunch of dates on it and the dates meant nothing to me because they were in 1989 and I was born in 1988 so even if my tiny not even first birthday celebrated self was watching the news then, (I wasn't. I don't even watch it now.) those events were not relevant to me. But the test says to remember what happened to you on those dates. January 30th, 1983: I continued to be a twinkle in my mother's eye. Five years and 37 days later I would be born. I don't remember much about that day. Nancy Kerrigan was clubbed on the right knee on what date? I have no interest in what date that was. (It was January 6th 1994. But I was in kindergarten at the time so I'm sure I was more concerned with having to stay after lunch with the other losers cause my mom didn't love me enough to only have me go half days. On the other hand that was awesome cause we got to do fun stuff like make shark tooth collages with "real" sharks teeth and neon paint. I chose pink cause it was the brightest. In your face half day kids.)

So I'm probably not one of the half a dozen people in the world with a super memory. But I do still have a pretty great memory. And I fear the day that it starts to go. I seriously fear it. It keeps me awake some nights and I start to think that I should be keeping much detail about my life. My journals are all like, no one understands me, I wish I were a better writer, I need more money. That's not going to be helpful when I can't remember my own anniversary.

Everybody's Asking Where You Are

I can't believe I forgot that November is also National Novel Writing Month! Can someone honestly start and finish a novel in one month? Or even, in my case, finish one? It's already the 10th. I've come too far in the month. Why bother even trying?

I feel like I've just seen why I have yet to finish a single story, but I'm too lazy to do anything about it. I left work two hours early last night cause I wasn't feeling well and it's carried over to today a little bit. I feel like a huge disappointment at work cause not only did we leave early, we also didn't get the stock transferred in that we've been needing nor did either of us remember to check our bags before we left. So we're on camera just strolling up to the doors, turning the alarm off and then on, and making a quick exit. We could only look more suspicious if we glanced over our shoulders a few times anxiously. I hate feeling this way, the disappointing part not the sick part (although I do hate being sick). I told Jeremy I was worried that they would see this, only day 3, as my being incapable of performing the tasks they've set upon me and seriously rethinking their decision to promote me. He was like, settle down Storm.

I'm currently at the laptop with five browser windows open: Netflix with Gossip Girl queued up (for serious guys, and I have no idea why I keep watching it. I don't even care about them), this blog, my shopping cart on Haus of Gloi, my shopping cart on Bath and Body (they have some sweet sales going on right now), and a Google search for the correct spelling of 'queued.' I'm debating on spending as much money as my carts says I will on bath and body products. I'm also debating on watching another episode of Gossip Girl, where Dan and Serena try to work things out even though I'd much rather see their parents get together cause I honestly think Dan is kind of a jackass. Hey! I do care what happens!

Like a Dark Portent

So I haven't adjusted to my new shifts yet (cause I've only had two) and I forgot to take a nap before I went in yesterday. I didn't think it would be that hard to adjust cause it's a five hour shift but I still wake up early naturally, an hour or so later now having not gone to sleep until the wee hours of the morning. So having been up since about 8 yesterday morning around the second hour of my shift (11:30 PM) I started thinking how great it would be to take a nap in the pile of denim I had been working on.

I didn't.

But I still think it would have been great.

In other news, the kitchen sink that I've been bitching about for a few weeks now that refuses to drain? I didn't use it all yesterday, cause I was going to wait till we bought some drain cleaner before doing the dishes so it wouldn't fill up and take two hours to drain, as is its wont. Last night the neighbor decided to do dishes. And we discovered something fun: there's a massive block of some kind in the plumbing and her water ran down, and then back up, into our sink. It was black, and gurgling, and it smelled like liquid death. So our sink doesn't drain right cause the block is directly beneath us. Her sink drains because it just comes back up into ours. So I get to interact with the landlord again and try to convince him in the nicest way possible that he isn't actually a plumber and that he should call one. Cause this cast-iron plumbing is for crap.

Portal to Christmas

So I guess it's National Blog Post Month, and by the 7th of this month, this is my first post. On the one hand, since we're coming up on Christmas and I work in retail I don't imagine there will be very many more posts until at least December 26th. On the other hand, last year around this time I had plenty of idiot shopper stories to share (I just didn't because I'm a lazy blogger sometimes.) so who knows, maybe this will be a productive 4th quarter. 4th quarter. Look at me with my retail jargon.

While perusing Google trying to learn what NaBloPoMo meant (national blog post month) I found someone's blog describing November as the portal month to Christmas. Which I thought was funny because we started holiday stuff in at work around late September, and just this past week we put up ornament shaped things. As in, Christmas decorations. It made me sad.

For the upcoming season, because of my sweet new promotion, I will now be working overnights. Strictly. Through December. This should be sweet.

I love The Vampire Diaries, and finally be able to watch a new episode, more than three days after it's originally aired, makes me really miss having cable, or a dish, and makes me regret wanting to feel morally superior in some way by not illegally downloading things anymore. It's not even that good of a TV show, and I know this, but I still really like it. I feel like the writers are actually trying for good story lines, sometimes the dialogue is crap, or the acting feels cardboard-y or stale, but the storyline itself is clearly a well thought out concept, and I appreciate that.

On that note, Season of the Witch (with the timely Nicolas Cage) is like the exact opposite. No, if it were exact it would have good acting and dialogue. It does not. Watch it with friends for a good laugh. Cause it feels like a Sci-Fi Original, if you know what I'm saying.

As it turns out, this movie wasn't a Sci-Fi Channel original as I previously thought, but that's where I saw it first and I've measured everything since against it's truly awesome-ness.