Overtake world

I plan to take over the world by simply getting to the heart of two companies, Hershey's and Lays.
And that's the only hint that anyone gets for now.
Now you get to hear me bitch about my life!
Why the rest of you cavort about, drink, watch Mommy Dearest on the lawn at SOTG, hook up perfectly good friends with other people that you barely know (even though it is widely known of my single-ness, my need to pro-create, etc), and hook up yourselves... I slave.
I slave for this stupid degree that I set out for, and sacrifice my precious summer hours, moments, afternoons and evenings for this. Hola! ?Como esta? Mismo! and the Odyssey, Gilgamesh and the like.
Where is it all taking me you ask?
I pause and answer...
Hopefully, to a more rewarding career! At the sacrifice of my social life of course.
I haven't had a boyfriend in years. I haven't even dated in a year. I can't begin to remember the last time that I actually HAD sex.
I gave it all up, because I really believed that I wasn't attracted to the proper sort you see.
Now I can't seem to say hello to a telephone pole.
Please forward all dating advice to the comments section of the blog.
I mean, I'm not dog ugly, even if my "gay name" is the Shitzu Bitch. I think that generally has something to do with my hair and sort of quietly aggressive behavior, but I could be wrong.
Let's consult the magic eight ball...
"Magic 8 ball, will I have sex before the year 2006?"
Picks up ball tenderly (perhaps that will affect the answer?), and shakes... firmly, yet gently.
Magic 8 ball, "Better not tell you now."
DOH!
Well, we'll give it a moment or three to rest, whilst we consume a beer or three...
Go figure!
Well, it just goes to show that even in the old legends occasionally the hero would have to NOT listen to the gods and create his own fate. (Did I mention that he/she usually ended up dead?)
But perhaps when there aren't any rules left and you know that you have nothing really to fear, like tax evasion, bankruptcy, repossession, etc....
I keep thinking that "this year" will be my year!
I will get THE JOB, meet THE MAN, and finally sail off into the sunset.
Did I mention that I like movies too?
Perhaps you could tell from my unrealistic view of the world.

Drama

So the drama with the car is over, you didn't even know that there was did you? Perhaps you hadn't read my last post, Egyptian love poems and tow trucks. It just goes to show you the dichotomy of any day.
So when walking around campus just the other day on the way to Spanish, I queried a GSU officer about my dilema. He was more than happy to report that the Atlanta PD cannot be bothered with campus issues, and they have just the person on campus to perform a task such as mine. That is, provided you call the campus police number, which you are supposed to know.
I still don't remember it, but it will probably make its way into my cell phone at some point.
Oh, I just love talking about Ancient English literature! And for 3 solid hours none-the-less...
Really, I enjoy literature, but it's not as if our class gets into any debates. You put 20 people in a room that have been at work all day and then talk to them about Gilgamesh or the Odyssey. It's fortunate that there are no tomatos about.
Since readership is at an all time low on this blog, now I can feel free to reveal my plot to take over the world to you all...
Stay tuned!

Egyptian Poetry and Tow Trucks

Ok, so maybe my World Literature class won't be so bad, even if my professor is one of those pony-tailed older men that just seems to think that the Odyssey and Gilgamesh are the best things EVER written.
We spent the first evening going over translations of papyrus from, and yes, you guessed it from the title, Egyptian poetry. Of course, just like in high school, we had to see as a class that the issues of the poetry dealt with "everyman" issues of love, passion, and good old fashioned (apparently) lust. A few poems caught my attention, "I'm not yet happy with your love...". This poem was about the girl who loved the boy she shouldn't, all her friends warn her to go away but she just can't. (gee, I wonder why that poem touched home so?) And next was the poem about how her man may go off in stylish clothes leaving her with just the sheet, or leaving so that he could eat!
Thankfully after all of that excitement (and seeing exactly how extensive his reading list was going to be in the next few weeks...), he let us go early. MERCY!
Alas, an early evening it was not to be.
My car barely made it out of the parking deck, to Courtland and would not advance further.
A nice young lady named Mung stopped to sit with me, which was sweet, because as the evening progressed, nice people were in short supply!
Smoove D came to represent and I thanked my sudden friend for staying with me.
Interestingly, four cops went by that did not stop. Two people stopped to ask directions, but not what was wrong. Four people did stop to ask if assistance was needed, all black, except one, who I had attended class with last semester. The cops were called after the battery on the car died and the streetlamp went out and I decided to really panic. They did not arrive.
Fortunately, Will, the tow truck driver did though. Courageous and quick he loaded up my car and took it to the dealership!
PS the police called after 50 minutes to ask if my car broke down...

Jackson's Free?

Anyone as confused as I am?

Some things are hard, others not

So, today was the day to get lots done as it was the last free day before school begins this evening.
I have a list of what I want to accomplish... website up from trip, photo album bought for actual images from trip, groceries, light cleaning, etc.
I come out of the gate at 8:30AM promptly. I awake, and immediately go to the computer to edit photographs and get something up on the website from my trip images.
By 11ish, done and send an email out to all (minus link!), shower, check email, then resend link!
Wow, I'm going!
Next, I am out the door to buy cat food (veterinarian), photo album (Target), and groceries (Publix). I even eat before I shop at the grocery store to avoid excessive $$$.
Mission accomplished, I race home. I actually have time before I need to leave for school, buy books and get to class. I can't believe how well this is going!
Upon arriving home, I open the trunk to find that the milk is spilled.
Ok, it just seems to have gotten the items in the bag wet (pickle jar! no prob!), and one other item that can be wiped off. Wow! It doesn't even seem that the inside of the trunk has milk in it, BONUS!
I carry my perishables up the stairs and leave the milk bottle there to take to the trash later.
Next trip, come down for my Target purchases. What's this? Milk on my brand new photo album???? ARRRRRRGH!!!!!! It's cloth and soaked to the binding. Golly, that's toast.
I was done with it, until I mentioned it to my step-father. Oddly, they had bought me a travel album for my pics for my birthday, so yippee! I am saved.
Unfortunately he talked me into going back to the store, he said they would take care of it.
Well, maybe for him they would have, but not for me. They happily refunded the milk, but didn't bother with anything else.
Wasted trip, then to school... books take 10 mins to get, leaving me with ample time to blog about spilled milk.

Stretched thin

As I wandered through the grocery store tonight, looking for snacks for this weekend, after watering L's plants, and on the way to a dinner with friends... I realized that I was really pushing myself a little too much this week.
It is after all my last week of freedom, well at least for six weeks until school ends for summer.
I make it sound like an eternity, but it's not, I know, but it is summer after all.

BEWARE!

I am informed by more savvy friends that European fashion takes at least 2-4 yrs to hit the states. I am sad to report that in many major cities the mullet is making a solid comeback.

Too many pictures? BAH!

I have spent the last three evenings (when I have had free time, ae: not at the Braves Game, not entertaining friends, seeing movies with other friends, etc) editing my photographs of my trip. Can you say Italy-Croatia, the book, Stacia's adventure. I'm sort of embarrassed, some friends peeked at them last night and actually quit less than halfway through the stack. Admittedly, there had only been one edit and that can still be a tad repetitious, but hey, couldn't they at least humor me?
I am really trying to make headway through this project, as next week I am pretty much out of time you see.
I go back to school next week, but after today at work I really just wanted to pack the suitcase that I never gave back to M and get back on an airplane.
My place of employment is rapidly changing. I can't sell what I like anymore, just what they are willing to get, which is basically the same type of thing that you can get lots of places. I am disapointed because our store has been truly unique for so long, and it won't be for much longer. Soon we will look like the stores in malls in America that once you have walked into one, you've pretty much been to all of them through the US.
Unfortunately, that brings, and this is rude, but true, a less unique crowd through the door. We have had some really COOL customers, individuals with stories. Now I find myself standing in the blocks instead of being able to really get into the beef of things, and I am in tech support. It's not always fun.
Shit changes, I used to be the one to change first to avoid the pain. It appears that I have been jumped.

The Western World

It’s amazing how similar/dissimilar things are in Europe as compared to the United States. I felt as if I just squinted my eyes in the right way I would be back in downtown Atlanta, of course with 16th century buildings in the background. It’s just people in jeans and better shoes, of course speaking a language other than your own.
And doors, I think once I returned to the state I remembered that I am the classic greeting card of “Midvale School of the Gifted” that can’t open the door, I push when I should pull. This was a quite amusing trait at restaurants and bars, when I would back up the lines. Oh, and there is nothing grander than the American toilet, which I will never take for granted again. In some situations, camping came to mind with the low slung or basin in the floor…
I enjoyed the openness of the Italians, as well as the people that I met while I was over there. Everyone was eager to actually have a conversation, and it didn’t concern who you were dating, if you were dating, what you had done recently to date, where you shopped, what you drove, and what your job paid, how was the weather or my favorite, “I drank so much that…”
Don’t get me wrong; the Italians are very, VERY cool. Italian men take cool to an entirely different level of cool that cannot be achieved by American men, not even the New York Italian. (Although many Italian-Americans do retain the wonderful looks of the Italian men, they lose the true machismo of the true Italian man.) I, unfortunately, was not there long enough to put my finger on it, but I definitely think that it has something to do with the aggressive nature of their walk, and the directness of their stare.
Further consideration and research will have to be done to determine definitely this difference.
The other thing that I discussed more over there than I ever do in the US is politics.
One gentleman suggested that the American economy is only good when the President is getting laid… he referred to Kennedy and Clinton as his examples.
The war is generally frowned upon. With what is going on with the European Constitution amendment at the moment, who knows what is next.

The Italy

Just got back from my first European adventure, and I must say, it was quite the experience! I also didn't want to come back but I was running out of money and didn't exactly want to get fired from my place of employment.
What can be bad about a place that likes bread and spreadable cheese for breakfast with the best coffee on the planet?
As a matter of fact, I have only been back for about 4 days and today I went on a quest for fresh baked bread and some of that wicked good cheese. Unfortunately, it wasn't all laid out like it was over there. I purchased some water and bread, but the cheese was not easily found. I will let readers know in the upcoming days how the bread fairs, and the cheeses that were selected, (because I know that you are all DYING to know).
After spending most of the day in Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport due to a cancelled flight (weather it's AMAZING... how quickly and rapidly a rainstorm can fuck up an airport...). Fortunately, the nice man at the counter got me onto another flight with Air France to my final destination. Unfortunately I would be arriving later, and going through Paris. (Not because I have any hard feelings for the French or anything, not at this point anyway, I just wanted to GET THERE!!!)
So, there I was, a greatful girl (is there anything worse on the planet?), so I took advantage of my extra time at the airport to partake in some good, accessible, local cuisine before I left the states. Yes, Popeye's was in order! And, yes, it was yummy! I had been strictly warned about the evils of alcohol on overseas flights and wasn't allowed to partake in any fashion on the flight over. (Which is too bad, because I may have actually arrived as a human, not as a zombie when I actually stepped foot on terra firma in Italy.... sleeping, you see.)
Charles de Gaulle airport, while pretty, is pretty unfunctional. The entire plain disembarked on the tarmac, roughly a mile from the gate. The entire plain was bussed to the gate and hearded like cattle through it, only to turn a corner and come right back out of the gate.
The French are nifty at 7AM.
And they really love it if you don't speak English. (No, really...me facetious??? NEVER!)
I was pretty much ignored when I asked if there was an earlier flight to Venice...
But the women, so immaculate, so coiffured, their hair so highlighted.
Well, that's enough to bore the socks out of anyone for the first installment, and we don't want to put our one reader to sleep!