Staring, a.k.a. Creeping

Now, I'm going to tune in to my inner yoga instructor and paint a picture for you. First, I need y'all to close yours eyes, and breathe deeply. In.... Out.... In.... Out....
Okay, picture this:
You are walking through Costco on a Saturday at around 1:00 in the afternoon. Every pants-in-the-family-wearing mom is there with her puppy-dog-eyed husband (and when I say puppy dog, I really mean basset hound), every Grandma is moving as slow as humanly possible down the middle of the aisle, making it completely impossible to pass her (they're tricksy little hobbitses, those grandmas), and every dyed-blond, 40-something, has-been cheerleader is there with her A-game in tow. Now imagine your thoughts upon walking into this mad house. They might be something along these lines:
"Okay, not an ideal day at Costco, but nothing I can't handle." In which case, good for you.
"I guess I can't expect anything less from Costco at one o'clock on a Saturday."
"Mmmm, pizza...."
"Holy crap! What the heck would possess this many people to show up here at once?!"
Or, if you're smart, "I'm getting the heck out of this mad house, my shopping can wait 'till Monday."
However, if you're me, you're thoughts would be something along the lines of, "Why in the name of Mary Todd Lincoln are all these people staring at me?"
That's right, the good ol' woman-I've-just-met-at-Costco stare-down. One of many things in the world guaranteed to make your skin crawl and your palms sweat.
I just don't get the Costco stare-down. What's the point, people? Not that we all can't appreciate some woman we've never met staring expressionlessly at us for more than the socially acceptable one and a half seconds. Believe me, I appreciate it all right; appreciate how unnerving and weird it is. Because, according to my rule book, if you're going to stare at someone for longer than one and a half seconds, then you have to smile at them. That way, they just smile back and think "Oh, what a nice person," instead of when you don't smile, you just look away quickly. Then all they're saying is "Okaaaay...?" But when you stare at them expressionlessly for longer than is socially acceptable, they're thinking, "What is that lady's problem?"
So, people, alls I'm sayin' is, when you're at Costco at one o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, just don't stare at people so much. It's creeping me out.

A vs. An (It's Not That Hard)

Okay, people. It's time to tackle an issue here that, frankly, we shouldn't have to tackle AT ALL. But, we do, because, apparently (Whooooo, COMMA HAPPY :)) 9th grade honors English students don't know when to use the article 'a' and when to use 'an'. Sigh... I would rant endlessly about this, but let's just save you and me the trouble/boredom (not that ranting is boring (for me) but it does take up time and it's not all that entertaining for y'all) OKAY. Phew. Find your chi, Alyssa. Find your chi. Okay. Let's do this thang.
Imagine that you are writing a paper. You suddenly find yourself confronted with an unsolvable problem: is it a eight or an eight? It's time to stop and ask yourself: WHY THE HECK DO I NOT KNOW THIS? IS THIS NOT 3RD GRADE MATERIAL? Then, give yourself a really, really, humongous, ginormoogantic pat on the FACE (you thought I was gonna say back? Ha, you wish suckahs).
The rules for 'a' and 'an' are simple. Now, listen closely, y'all. If the word that comes after the article you're puzzling over begins with a VOWEL, you use 'an'. If the word that comes after the article begins with a CONSONANT, you use 'a'. Let's look at some examples:
I would like to eat an apple for lunch.
I would like to eat a sandwich for lunch.
Got it? We'll see... Now you try:
1. You forgot to put (a/an) eight after the one.
2. My brother is (a/an) jerk.
3. If you don't get this by now, you are (a/an) mentally challenged person, so please join Mental Alyssa in the Corner of Shame.
4. I prefer meat seasoned with (a/an) herb. OOOOOO, tricksy, tricksy. But you know the answer, I know you do. Just go with your gut; that always works for me.

SO, in conclusion, if I ever see the improper usage of a/an again, I will write the web address of this post on a bajillion itty bitty pieces of paper, roll them into the shape of bullets, and shoot myself with them. I will do that in the hopes that, in honor of my memory, someone will start a charity foundation entirely committed to educating the world in the "complicated" art of proper article usage. And, also, that when they find my body, they will have a bajillion tiny web addresses to hand out to the world in support of this noble cause.


'Nuff said.

WHY I HATE COUNTRY MUSIC

How I Got to Be This Way
By Justin Moore (and 2 others (Rivers Rutherford and Jeremy Stover) who are equally accountable for the madness.)


I rolled my Daddy’s truck off the Dicksonville curve
After drinkin’ my fifth beer
And I fed hogs tryin’ to pay him off
For most of my senior year

I got my jaw jacked by a big ol’ boy
For messing ‘round with his girlfriend
She was tall and tight and she kissed just right
But I’ll never do that again

Chorus
Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

I’ve been kicked in the face by a horse
Cause I ran up too fast behind him
And I shook hands on a deal with a man
And found out he was lyin’

I’ve broken a couple of good girl’s hearts
Cause I’ve said I loved ‘em knowin’ I couldn’t
And I’ve given my heart to a woman
Who said she’d stay when I knew she wouldn’t

Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

I’ve been bit I’ve been burned but I’ve lived and I’ve learned from it
I’ve made some mistakes but that’s what it takes
To make a man out of a kid

Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

That’s how I got to be this
How I got to be this
How I got to be this way
Hey


Enough said.

Oh MY Gosh

I hate iTunes. For real. I know you're not supposed to be able to transfer music from your iPod onto your PC, but it's ridiculous that when you know how to do it, not all of your music even makes it onto your computer. It's like, "Oh, gee, thanks computer. You know, I didn't even want any complete albums on here. It's not like I paid for them or anything... Oh, wait. I DID. And you know what? I'm glad none of my very favorite songs made it on. I didn't like them all that much anyway, now that I think about it. Thanks for broadening my perspective a little. Now I'm forced to listen to my medium favorites." So now, lucky me gets to buy all brand new songs or figure out some way to email the others to myself.
Did I mention how technologically challenged I am to begin with? I know next to nothing about computers; Grandma Helen probably knows more than me. I'm pathetic when it comes to them. So, needless to say, this is going to be a much bigger challenge than I originally thought.
Great.

Urrrrghlmrrrphdmshmpf.

What an onomatopoeia! But it does express very well how I've been feeling recently. I'm just so restless lately. I don't know what or why it is, but I just get frustrated so easily. It's like the day has just barely begun and I'm already at the end of my rope. I have zero tolerance for anything... I can't sit still for 10 minutes, I have to get up and pace and then sit back down... then get up and pace again, go clean something, then pace then sit then groan then bang my heasd against a wall.
You know, this has happened to me before... I think it's some combination of stress and anxiety and me being unssatisfied with life, which I am. Well, that, and the fact that the disc of Friends episodes we got from the library is scratched and so I can't watch any of the episodes...
That's not the real problem, though. I think I just need some change, or something exciting or interesting to happen. And I'm not talking about the crazy lad y who goes to the grocery store in nothing but her underwear. That's interesting, for sure, but I mean something... ground-breaking(?)... or I don't know... maybe something that would help me gain some perspective. Something new. I'm tired of being so agitated and grumpy all the time. I wanna sing in the shower again, but lately I just haven't been in the mood....
Any advice?
(Sorry. For my first post in 3 months this one sure isn't very cool.)

Thoughts/on The Weather

Yesterday was the most beautiful day Las Vegas has seen for a long time. It seemed to me (and Elen) that the weather was trying to be a juxtipositon (and succeeding, fortunately.) The clouds saved us from being miserable. See, the clouds covered the whole sky, but the sun was shining just brightly enough to seep through them, creating this weird bright light that didn't hurt your eyes at all, but was so intensely white you had to wonder why it didn't. It was warm out, but there was just enough of a breeze blowing to keep it nice and cool. Essentially, it was hot and cold, sunny and cloudy. At the same time. It was some of the most amazing weather I've seen for a long time.
Come on, now WAKE UP already. Didn't mean to put you to sleep. (Sorry).
Anyways, I don't really have anything major to post but there are some things that have been pre-occupying my mind for a while now.
First off, 1910 seems like a WAY long time ago, right? They didn't have TV or cars or microwaves or other... things. Can you imagine the year 3010, when everyone will think about how deprived the people of 2010 were? It'll be hilarious. It just freaks me out to imagine that one day some teenagers will learn about the time that I was a teenager in some history class and be AMZAZED at our lack of technology. I can picture myself up in Heaven (cuz all good girls go to Heaven) laughing my head off but actually being kind of saddened...
The day will come when the music trend will change. It'll be weird for me to be the one popping in some Black Eyed Peas or Lady Gaga (Heaven forbid the day should come when I play that by my own free will) and telling my kids, "This is what was cool when I was your age," just the same way I get freaked out by Paula Abdul or Whitney Houston. (I mention these two because they are the tapes my mom still has from back "then").
Also, I dread the day when this whole bright-colored clothing trend will be over, because I am loving it. Will the day come when I will look like an old lady wearing bright turquoise? Will people joke about how I am "Stuck in 2010" the same way I joke with my friends about people being "stuck in the 70's"? Will it be uncool if I want to paint my house yellow and decorate it all reto? Will retro even be the same thing it is now when I have a house?
Do any of ya'll ever think about things like this?
Basically, what I mean by that is: Am I crazy by normal standards?
Well?

Pet Peeves

These are a few things that bug me, since I'm in the mood to be bugged.

1. People who have no concept of personal space.
I know a person like this, and all the time I spend with her I am constantly on edge. I never know when she's going to touch my arm or get way too close to my face when she's talking to me. Whenever she does it I just want to punch her or like slap her face away. It's just a reflex reaction, I guess, but it really weirds me out. I can't concentrate on what she's saying to me because all my focus is going towards not whacking her face away...

2. Authors who put their name bigger than the title on the cover of their book.
This actually happened to me today.
I had finished my work in English and was looking over at this girl's book because I guess there was nowhere better to look... anyways, I was kind of caught off guard.
"Susan Wiggs is a funny book title, huh?" I asked Mental Alyssa, my special (ed) friend I talk to sometimes.
"Yes, it most definitely is, Alyssa." Mental Alyssa replied.
Then I noticed that there was more print on the book, but I had to squint really hard to see it. (Keywords in that sentence: SQUINT REALLY HARD). That was when I noticed that right under the ginormous SUSAN WIGGS was the actual title of the book: Just Breathe. I laughed right out loud.
"Woops," I mumbled to my Mental friend.
"Yeah, that was stupid of you," Special Ed agreed.
Seriously, how completely ridiculous is that? I can understand printing you name really big if you are a seriously well-known author, like Stephen King or Nora Roberts, but I've never heard of Susan Wiggs before in my life. I mean, these were some seriously big letters. If I had to compare, I would say that the author's name was printed in a bout a size 48 font and the title was probably a size 18. It was just weird...

3. People who figuratively slap you in the face.
You probably know a person who does this. A figurative slap in the face is anything a person does frequently that isn't actually slapping you in the face but is just as insulting and makes you just as mad. An example of this would be my sister, Abby. She figuratively slaps me by throwing her dirty clothes on my bed after she takes them off. She seriously does this every day without fail. And I'm really not exaggerating when I say that. She does it EVERY SINGLE FREAKING DAY. I'll wake up in the morning and notice that that horrible thing I've been smelling all night is not a dead animal, it's Abby's sock under my pillow. That was just one time, though. Most of the time it will just be a shirt or a pair of pajamas or something. I have to wonder if she does it intentionally or not... I mean, she does it so frequently that it's hard to tell if it's just a habit or not. I just wish she would throw her freaking clothes in the closet, whose opening is just a bit beyond my bed. Would it really be that hard??? Am I being ridiculous or would this bug anyone else, too???


Anyway, I could seriously go on like this for a long time, you and I both know. So, farewell for now, darling... Catch ya'll later.