Day 5 And Some Other Bullshit

Sauerkraut Here!

Day, whatever the hell I’m on? Requires me to share with you a “picture of my favorite memory.” Picking a favorite memory is tough; I’ve been looking at this screen for over 40 minutes!

It’s now been two hours and fifteen minutes.

Okay, here we go. I… Have been sitting here for three hours and 50 minutes.

Why is this so tough? I guess I should just pick one!

It’s now been four hours and seven minutes. Sigh.

I don’t want to talk about this, here’s what I want to talk about. I’ve been thinking more and more about my “Wonderful Disaster” and the more I think about it, the more excited I get. At the same time the thought of it makes me anxious. The thought of leaving Mr. Coconut and Chickpea behind makes my stomach bubble.

I’ve spent so many years alone in Utah and now that I’ve found a buddy, a good buddy, I’m just going to up and leave her!? I’m trying really hard to tell myself that I need to do what’s best for me, that we will stay in close contact, that we will visit each other, etc. But how can I be so sure!?

As for Mr. Coconut, I don’t know what to do? Mr. Coconut is a very, very good guy. However, I don’t feel like our relationship is progressing in the direction I had hoped. My mom once said to me, “Sometimes two people’s lives just don’t mesh.” Without going into detail, I feel like these words sum up my current situation.

If I move forward with my Wonderful Disaster, I need to make rules for myself; so far I only have one, make friends. To prevent another Hermit Episode I need to make friends. I’ve been thinking of a few ways to make friends and so far, my plan is this… Make friends at work and sign-up for a community education class. Sounds pretty easy, right? WRONG! I don’t go to work to be social and I don’t do activities to be social, I do them because I have to/want to. Unfortunately for me, I give off a bitchy vibe. But the truth is, I’m extremely shy. So, somehow I need to make myself not look so mean and force myself to ask people to hang out outside of work/class. Also, if they ask me to hang out, I have to go. Even though I really, really won’t want to. In fact, I’ll probably be on the phone, crying to my mother seconds before the meeting. Moving on…

Today I received this text from The Neighbor Girl:

“I had a dream that you and I were both prego and we had our babies on the same day, I had another boy and you had a girl. You were fighting us and trying to switch babies with us because yours didn’t ‘have a wiener.’”

Seriously, I’m dying… Because I would really do this.

Good news! I’ve been missing several items for what seems like forever. Tonight, I located the last of them! My favorite sunglasses were in my swim bag; my pants (which I was convinced I Heart To Fart stole) were at Mr. Coconut’s house and my shoe! My fucking pink and orange tennie runner, my grandmother found it under my bed, yip-pee! I bet it’s caked in cat piss.

And now it’s time for a photo of ONE of my favorite memories. One night PDX and I got very bored so we decided to pull a prank. We drove to Macy’s, bought a shit ton of aluminum foil, drove to my job (at the time) and covered my co-workers entire cubical in aluminum foil, the fucking thing was glowing!

My co-worker wasn't mad at all, he said it was the "best prank ever."

That is all.

Sauerkraut

Making Up For Lost Time - Day 4

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I’m doing really badly at this 30 Day Blog Challenge, I think it’s because Day 4 confused me. I couldn’t figure out if I was supposed to take a picture of my Friday night or my Saturday night? Regardless they were both boring.

After work on Friday I filled out an application for a part-time job. I’m hesitant to tell you what the job is because I don’t want to jinx myself. The job doesn’t pay too well but I really need whatever cash it has to offer, I’m that broke. Plus, it’s on my way home from my full-time job, the hours are perfect and more than anything it will teach me a skill I’ve always wanted to learn. I’m crossing my fingers that I get an interview, I should know sometime this week.

After I filled out my job application I swung by my favorite farmhouse AKA McDonald’s and spent the rest of the night painting and struggling to stay awake for the latest episode of Jersey Shore.

Saturday night I ran some errands. I returned a shirt my mom bought at TJ Maxx, returned some pillowcases my mom bought at Macy’s (which by the way I got lost trying to find despite having been there several times.) and got some store credit from a cake class that I won’t be attending… Because I signed up for a different one, that I’m hoping is better.

After that I stopped by Mr. Coconut’s house in an attempt to be nice. I never go to Mr. Coconuts; I just like my own space. Anyways, I cut his hair, he showered and we went to Barbacoa for dinner. We’re both broke as shit so I took advantage of my Gift Card Bag. If you don’t know, I carry around a zip-loc bag full of gift cards that I’ve been collecting since 2005. Working toward my “Wonderful Disaster” I’ve decided to make it a goal to use as many of this stupid things as possible.

Where was I? Oh yes. So that was my Friday and Saturday night, how do I take a photo of that?  Fuck this post is boring and I'm not posting a photo.

That is all.

Sauerkraut

Day 3 Of The Blog Challenge

Sauerkraut Here!

I’m pretty sure I’m having a panic attack. Hold on, I must research this. I have come to the conclusion that I had a mild panic attack. Apparently you experience at least 4 of their listed symptoms, I had eight:

• Feeling dizzy, unsteady, lightheaded, or faint

• Feeling waves of being flushed

• Fear of losing control or going insane

• Chills or hot flashes

• Confusion

• Blank mind

• Sensing time going by very slowly

• Feeling the need to escape

In addition, it said that it would last about 30 minutes, indeed it did. Now that it’s over, I am able to focus and write this fucking post. Shall we begin?

There is a weird vibe in the air today, very weird. Last night I had a very weird dream that I believe was sparked by my search for my house in California.

Last night I dreamt that I was living in Idaho and my brother and I discovered that my father had been in town (for about a month) to have surgery on his back and he never bothered to contact us. I think my brother hunted him down to let him know that we knew he was in town and basically forced him to visit us. He stopped by the day he was leaving town and I remember I was pissed, yelling, “You’re in town for a fucking month and you didn’t even bother to contact your fucking kids!?” I remember he gave me a gift, I think it was an empty journal and he wanted me to write the first chapter of a book he wanted to write. After he left I was yelling at my brother, “This mother fucker is in town for a month and he doesn’t bother to contact his fucking kids or see his grandbabies and he thinks I’m going to help HIM out by writing his first fucking chapter!? Fuck that shit.” P.S. This is exactly how I talk in real life.   I remember watching him through the window, he jumped on his motorcycle (with Skeletor, minus the muscles, who had been waiting outside for six hours and had really bad hair, long brittle and grey) and rode off.

Skeletor

HOLY SHIT!  I just thought of something!  My father wife’s name cannot be Skeletor!  While she does look like a skeleton, Skeletor is cool.  But don't you worry; I found the PERFECT replacement... Oh shit, this is good...

SALLY!  SALLY!  From "Nightmare Before Christmas!"  SALLY!

She's PERFECT! Oh shitness! She's perfect in SO MANY WAYS! She’s a skeleton, she has long brittle looking hair, she's wearing some outfit that only a TRUE hippie would wear, she’s meek, annoying and SHIT! She’s perfect.

Disclaimer: I’m not saying these things because I have hard feelings toward this woman but instead I’m saying these things because they’re dead on. No pun intended.

Little Gorda was in the other room and overheard the entire conversation. I could hear her talking on the phone to The Neighbor Girl (who was simply calling to see if I was okay) and I got really upset. I asked Gorda to end the conversation and then she tried to stab me with a steak knife? Then she called me a “bitch,” bad idea. At this point in the dream I snapped.

The next thing I knew I snatched the knife away from Gorda and found myself smashing a crap ton of green peas in a pot with a potato masher… Apparently the peas were Gorda.  For the record, I will never squish Gorda. 

The next day I went to work and discovered that my boss had taken the yucky mouse pad that I threw away out of the garbage can putting it back on my desk. I was pissed!!! There I was yelling at her, “Really!? We can’t throw away one, fucking disgusting mouse pad!? I can’t have a fucking new mouse pad!?”

And that was my dream. Moving on…

This morning I woke up with a weird feeling. The air seems heavy (despite it being a beautiful day), my mind seems blank, yet busy and I can sense that everyone is just a little off today. I can’t help but wonder if something is going to happen? Something… Minor, but not right. Moving on…

I’ve had a few people ask about my night in KMart and I wish there was some great story to share with you but there’s not. I stayed the night because, in my mother’s words, “I was working the night shift, setting up an ad that was going to start the next morning… IT SUCKED.” And there you have it.

Today is Day 3 of the 30 Day Blog Challenge and the day that I am supposed to share with you “a picture of the cast from my favorite show.” Because I can never pick just one, I’ve decided to share several, a few blasts from the past and a current love.

I had a really hard time determining my favorite blast from the past because I had several, here they are:

The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air

Family Matters

Saved by the Bell

My current love is Jersey Shore, no surprise there.

I'm going to the Jersey Shore... BITCH!

Finally, I posted a message on Facebook yesterday asking someone to start a fucking blog (And maintain it). Alas! My wish has been granted! The Neighbor Girl started a blog and for several very good reasons: to keep family and friends updated, document the memories and get Auntie Sauerkraut to shut up.

I’m so excited about this blog because now I have something to look forward to, something to do at work and get to know what my nephews are up to. I LOVE hearing stories about my nephews.

Yesterday, my two favorite stories were:

1) The other night at dinner my nephew had a coughing fit, he realized he was getting attention from his parents for coughing so he kept doing it… Until he barfed all over the table. Yes!

2) The other night The Neighbor Girl was watching a movie when Izzy got in her face and the following conversation followed:

Izzy: “What’s your name?”

Neighbor Girl: “Mom.”

Izzy: “Is my name Tit-Tan?”

Neighbor Girl: “Yes.”

He pauses; his little wheels are turning…

Izzy: “Mom, what my weiner name?”

Neighbor Girl: “I don’t know.”

He scratches his tiny, blond haired head…

Izzy: “Mmm, my weiner name is, Girl Weiner.”

Fuck yes! I love this kid!

That is all.

Sauerkraut

P.S. Aside from barfing on the steps up to my apartment my lovely neighbor loves to leave his trash outside his door. Last night, I opened the door to discover, this:

Rockin' out to the death metal.

Fuck my life. I wish I could report this issue to the property management, but considering the property is in terrible condition (couches, dirty diapers, shopping carts… Everywhere!), I doubt they'd care.

Last weekend I was awoken to a bunch of noise, the next morning I discovered that the dumb-fuck neighbor (who was probably drunk) locked himself out of the house and proceeded to use a crowbar to remove the deadbolt from his door, nice.

Earlier this week I noticed he tried to replace it, but it's pretty fucking obvious that someone took a fucking CROWBAR TO HIS DOOR! Perhaps I should learn to look on the bright side? At least he remembered which apartment was his. Maybe I should ask him if I can have the cans for my nephews.

A House Of Memories

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After writing my earlier post I got to thinking about my house in California. I didn’t remember the exact address, but I remembered it was four digits, started with something in the teens and ended in zero something, does this make sense? I remember the street was Kingston Drive and I remember my surroundings: my yard, my neighbor’s yard, my elementary school, etc.). So, after messing around a little I found it: 1904 Kingston Drive, Escondido, California.

Big brother, click on the photo to see it larger.

This is the site of some of my earliest memories:

- Stealing rocks from the neighbors house… I thought they were diamonds and that I was going to rich. Looking back, if they were truly anything of value, why would someone toss them in their yard? My dad made me take them back.

- Working in the garden with my dad. Actually, I think I just ate the cherry tomatoes? Which I would never eat now.

- Picking dead skin off my Uncle L’s sunburned back.

- My lavish Easter egg hunts.

- Playing “Sack of Potatoes” with my brother.

- The evil witch that I was convinced lived in the bathroom between my room and my parents… Turns out this house is haunted. Supposedly. By a man. Not an evil witch.

- Making “honey” using a single bee in a coffee can with my neighbors: Kimmyette, Anastasia and Ashley.

- My one and only, spanking from my father.

- Licking every, single envelope in the house, putting them back in the box and returning them to the cupboard.  I freaking love the taste of envelopes.

So, I am very boring and this post is stupid.

That is all.

Sauerkraut

Day 2 Of The Blog Challenge

Sauerkraut Here!

This is a photo of my mother and I in South Dakota last July. She will kill me if she ever finds out I posted this photo on the Internet because she probably thinks she looks bad, but she doesn’t.

My poor mother.

Like most, my mother and I struggled to get along for many years and it wasn’t until I moved away to college that I really began to realize how cool she is. For fuck sake! Half my friends would rather hang out with her than me!? Furthermore, it wasn’t until a bad break up with a boyfriend that I realized she will always be there for me, no matter what. I don’t know why it took that experience for me to realize this, but it did. My mother will always answer the phone (even in the middle of the night) and listen to me whine, walk me through a disaster, fight on my behalf, jump in the car to come to my rescue, etc.

When my parents were still together I remember hanging out with my mom all day. We’d watch “Little House on the Prairie;” she’d walk me to school, write notes on my lunch napkins, and make sure my sweatpants matched when I went to get pancakes with my dad. And when my parents separated we moved back to my birthplace. My mother had options, but I think she chose to move to Idaho because she knew that I would be safe, cared for and loved in the company of my grandparents (who are easily the runners up on this post. Actually, they are equals in this situation, but I could only pick one). My mother worked her ass off (sometimes three jobs) to provide me with the necessities (food, clothing, shelter, etc.) extra opportunities (birthday parties, vacations, swim team, etc.) and I never, ever, not one time, did I feel scared, unloved or under privileged.

Now that I’m older I realize that my mother was not trying to ruin my life, as so many youngsters seem to think, but instead trying to protect me and guide me in the right direction. Every decision she made was for me, in my best interest and as a result she sacrificed a lot.

Not to brag, but she did a pretty good job. I’m polite (when necessary), honest (almost to a fault), I did okay in school, I never got in trouble (I remember one time our school was having a walk out to support the building of an additional high school in our town, I called my mother, at work, to ask her if it was okay to participate in the walk out and receive an attendance truancy as a result. Really? I’m so lame), I avoided alcohol, drugs and having a child at 16. I went to college, graduated and for the most part I’m pretty independent. I don’t know how she did it? But she did it, in her own special way.

She is, in my eyes: kind, loving, wise, protective, sassy, strong, responsible, hard working, fun, and a boat load of other things.

What it boils down to is my mother has been there for me since day one, obviously. And while my family and I sometimes question where I came from and whether or not my mother got the wrong baby at the hospital, we all know I’m hers. She knows, “because she was there.”

Funny things my mother has said to me:

- “Maybe I didn’t enter you into any beauty pageants because you’re too much like your father.” Meaning, I’m a bit of an interesting character. P.S. Had she entered me into a beauty pageant, it would have been exactly like the movie “Little Miss Sunshine.”

- When I was telling her that we were nothing alike she said to me, “Well, sometimes you’re funny… You got that from me.”
- “You just have bad delivery.” Meaning I’m not very good at telling people things nicely.

In conclusion, my mother is the shit… Take a big whiff.

Speaking of shit… I was just called upstairs because Mernie (my pug friend) took a poo in the middle of the floor. The best part is that instead of picking it up, the boys sprayed it with air freshener, those boys.

That is all.

Sauerkraut

P.S. My mother just called me the “planner from hell.” Not sure how to take that one.

30 Day Blog Challenge

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I was reading Tar-J’s blog today she is participating in the following “Blog Challenge.” I don’t really view this as a challenge, but rather a list of crap to talk about on this fucking blog. So, I too shall participate in this “Blog Challenge," here’s the schedule:

Day 01 - A picture of yourself with ten facts.

Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest.

Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show.

Day 04 - A picture of your night.

Day 05 - A picture of your favorite memory.

Day 06 - A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.

Day 07 - A picture of your most treasured item.

Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.

Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most.

Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the most fucked up things with.

Day 11 - A picture of something you hate.

Day 12 - A picture of something you love.

Day 13 - A picture of your favorite band or artist.

Day 14 - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without.

Day 15 - A picture of something you want to do before you die.

Day 16 - A picture of someone who inspires you.

Day 17 - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.

Day 18 - A picture of your biggest insecurity.

Day 19 - A picture and a letter.

Day 20 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.

Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget.

Day 22 - A picture of something you wish you were better at.

Day 23 - A picture of your favorite book.

Day 24 - A picture of something you wish you could change.

Day 25 - A picture of your day.

Day 26 - A picture of something that means a lot to you.

Day 27 - A picture of yourself and a family member.

Day 28 - A picture of something you're afraid of.

Day 29 - A picture that can always make you smile.

Day 30 - A picture of someone you miss.

So, let’s get started…

1) When I was little my grandparents gave me a cat, Carmichael (Carmy for short). I loved that cat, despite being allergic to him. He was an orange, shorthaired tabby cat with green eyes and freckles on his nose. I used to dress him up in my Cabbage Patch clothes. One time he got in a fight (he was a terrible fighter) and was bitten on his butt (interesting). The vet had to shave it and I guess this really upset me because my mom said I cried and asked if he would, “poop crooked.”

2) I hate beans. As a child, I remember standing on the side of my Aunt D’s with my father. He was holding a plate with some baked beans on it, begging me to eat some. If I recall, I never ate the beans and he gave up. Today, any time someone offers me beans, I remember that moment.

3) My parents went all out for Halloween and not only did I always have the best costume in the classroom, my parents always had the best costume in town, seriously. After my parents separated I remember sitting at my Aunt R’s house (Again, not really my aunt, but rather my mother’s best friend) watching my mother get her hair done to resemble The Bride of Frankenstein. I remember it took hours, but it turned out so amazing.

4) When my mom and I moved back from California she was working a ton so I spent a lot of time at work with my grandparents. My grandfather worked for the state and my grandmother worked as a nurse. I remember I would play with all the office stuff at my grandfather’s office, go to lunch with him in the company car (a green station wagon) and I would sit at the table with a bunch of old men. One day I was photocopying my body parts and my grandfather caught me. I thought I was in trouble when he hoisted me onto the copy machine and I got to photocopy my butt. He gave the copies to my grandmother and I think she still has them?

5) I have spent the night in a KMart.

6) I got my first bra at KMart. I remember my mother and two of her best friends (who I refer to as my aunts) piled us girls (my cousins and I) into the car, drove us to KMart and forced us all to get a bra. I remember Elizabeth was all about it and picked out a cute little bra, I was so in awe of her confidence. Amanda and I got sports bras. Awkward.

7) When I was in 6th grade some of my classmates pulled me aside to show me a gun. I remember they hid it between the school and a storage shed. We were all stuffed between the two structures and the opportunity for tragedy was very likely considering the owner of the gun probably had no clue how to handle it and we were all crammed in such a small space. To this day I wonder why they chose to show me the gun. I remember standing in the field and Amanda asking me what was wrong, I must have looked a little shocked. I guess I told her what had happen because she ran off to tell the teacher. I wonder where those individuals are today?
8) In 6th grade I had a boy try to pay me a dollar to kiss him, I declined. Even back then I was a prude.

9) I was the 2005 Mackay Biker Rodeo Trophy Girl.

10) There really is a silver lining to a cloud. Had my brother never gone to prison, I don’t think we’d be as close as we are today.

That is all.

Sauerkraut

A Better Life

Sauerkraut Here!

Well, I lost 1.5 pounds. Honestly, I’m not that thrilled because the first time I weighed myself I was wearing a ton of clothes, this time I took off my shoes, you’d be surprised how much Ugg Boots weigh. I’m also upset because typically you lose a bunch of weight the first week; it’s the weeks after that you lose less (1-2 lbs.). Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset that I didn’t magically lose a bunch of weight, I’m upset because I cheated and THAT’S why I didn’t lost a bunch of weight. So, I need to get focused… Again.

In other news, I’ve gotten a lot of compliments regarding my black hair, I think the only people who don’t like it is my boss and Mr. Coconut (no surprise there). I’m going to add my grandmother to that list as well, only because I know that if she saw it (5 days after it had been dyed) she’d realize it was black and say (after gasping for air), “Sauerkraut! What have you done to your hair?” To which I would reply, “I dyed it.” To which she would reply, “I don’t know about you kids these days.” You gotta love grandma.

I’ve been thinking, it’s time for a change (in other words, I need to move). I’m ready for an adventure. I’m ready to leave the familiar (although I do love having something familiar), move, be broke as shit (actually, I’m already REALLY used to this), meet new people (without abandoning the ones who have been with me forever), experience new things and see where life takes me. My thoughts are this, if I stay where I am… Well, that’s it. I stay where I am. I’m ready to make some irresponsible decisions, have fun and live an unpredictable life, why not? As long as I don’t get a fucking kid out of it, it’s all good.

After a lot of thinking I’ve decided that Portland, Oregon is the best place for me. Here’s why:

1) I love the place. It’s on the West coast, although I’ve never been there, I just don’t think the East coast is for me. It’s green, it rains, it rarely snows, it’s full of life, there’s always something crazy to do, and it’s weird. Enough said.

2) My oldest friend (who’s known me since I was in junior high school) lives there, she’s my “something familiar.”

3) There are always cheap plane tickets home and the drive home is not too bad. Meaning, if I needed to, I could get home to my family pretty fucking quick. This calms my nerves.

4) It’s some place my family and friends (Grandparents, mom and brother) would probably enjoy visiting.

Just typing this post gets me so excited. Seriously… I’m ready to book a fucking U-Haul right now! However, this decision will not be easy and there are several people that will be hurt by it, but I’m at a point in my life where I want to be selfish and do something for me. This decision will be a risk and I’m hoping it will pay off for the better, but I’ll never know unless I do it. I need to take this risk with a leap of faith.

So, this is the plan… Unless I am sent somewhere else before… May? I am going to move to Portland, Oregon.

That is all.

Sauerkraut

P.S. Who’s coming with me? I Heart To Fart? Chickpea?