Jenny and Elizabeth are so excited about the upcoming royal wedding, and I'm learning a lot just by hanging around them. Today, however, I came across this article explaining names of the British well-to-do.
I can't get over how strange and funny these names sound. Tiggy? It really does sound like a character I would have made up for a story when I was younger.
The other thing I found myself thinking was that this isn't really that different in America. The upper crust that goes to say, Yale, usually have double names to help indicate their family ties. If I had to guess, I'd say some of those Ivy Leaguers are related to these people, and "stole" the idea from them.
Showing posts with label Elizabeth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elizabeth. Show all posts
Monday, April 11, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Concert on a School Night
Over the weekend Elizabeth fell in love with this band, and since they were playing a show, she wanted to go. She asked a bunch of us to come along, and as I got an invite, I said sure. Jane and Ruth were both going to come, but they didn't show up, so we left without them. I was disappointed, since I like hanging out with both of them. Ruth recently complained to me about Jane's behavior, so I wonder if neither of them showed up because they thought the other one might.
We took a cab, which I about never do. We split it four ways, so the good news is that I only owe Miriam five dollars for the night. (I am miserably bad with change, and didn't have any fives or ones to give her.)
The cab driver was totally awful. He sounded totally confused with Claire told him where to go. He kept repeating it as if he'd never heard of it before, and this makes me nervous. What is it with non-native English speakers repeating everything you say to them? It makes me wonder if they aren't understanding, which would be fine, if they would just ask. There's a guy at the caf that does the same thing. When he first started working there, this would really irk me, but now I mostly ignore it.
It took him a while to find it, and then he sort of just left us in the middle of the street. Um, gee, thanks? Claire told me she thought he was "absolute crap." Amen.
The concert was at this hotel. Actually, I'm honestly not sure if it was a hotel, because the ground level was a very dark bar, with all this wood paneling so it looked super fancy and old, like it would be the sort of place Victorian playboys or Edwardian lords or even flapper girls. I hate the phrase "old-timey" but that's what it reminded me of.
We went up these stairs, where everything was painted a kelly green. At the top was this bizarre room. It was a greenhouse on the roof of the building. The floor had hexagonal white and black tiles, like a bathroom (and again, an old bathroom, like something from the fifties) and Victorian streetlamps in the middle of the room. In one corner, the band was setting up. On the side opposite of where we entered, a very large and fancy bar was being set up.
We were early, which was weird, because Elizabeth thought we were going to be late.
No, instead we spent a lot time sitting around waiting.
The music they played while we waited was all very mod, very forgotten bits of the London 60's. I rather liked it. I used to listen to this music a lot as a young girl, but I haven't for ages.
I feel a little badly about admitting this, but I was not happy with the other sorts of people at this gig. There were a lot of women there, and a lot of them were tall and leggy and clearly could be models. I am not a beautiful person; I felt uglier than normal there. There were also a lot of hipsters there, and I could feel myself roll my eyes internally at them.
Claire asked me where I had gotten my outfit, which was the same one I had worn out a few weeks back when I went out with Erin and Carrie. I told her I had mostly gotten it second hand. The dress, belt and pants were all very cheap, and considering how good I looked, I was pretty pleased with this. The sweater was my Mom's, on loan. And the underwear and panties I had on underneath were mine, along with the socks and tennis shoes. (Aren't you glad to hear that?) "I spent about fifteen dollars on this outfit, overall" I told her, which is pretty damn good. She was impressed.
At this point, a man sidled up to us. He was with a girl. He looked Mediterranean, with the dark eyes and hair and beard. Usually, I would find someone like this attractive, but the skin around his eyes was all red and there was something about him that was off.
For some strange reason Claire felt the need to tell him I was a bit rambunctious. He didn't grin but said "Tell me more." Oh ew. Okay, moving on.
The opening act was this young man from a band who was just playing solo. He was okay. He was playing a very country/blues kind of sound, which normally would be fine, but the crowd clearly wanted to party, and here he was, sort of killing the mood with all these sad songs about girls leaving him. He had one about, I kid you not, driving out on New Orleans during Katrina.
How old is this guy? I thought. He looked my age or slightly older. He was near New Orleans during Katrina?
He was also weirdly egotistically. Like, he had this whole thing where he acted as if he was amazing, and although his playing was quite good, there was nothing about him that was memorable (other than maybe his strange self). He seemed to be playing mostly as a way of pushing himself on the audience.
He talked to much, and Claire didn't like him or his music and she didn't like that he was swearing. At one point, she said something under her breath about the swearing, and it was at the perfect moment, because a hush just happened to fall on the audience right then, and everyone heard her. Claire covered her mouth in embarrassment, and I roared with laughter.
The guy continued playing slow songs. There was something about him that was really awkward, but he also seemed really oblivious about it.
"Did you think you were the best I ever had?" he sang. I found myself thinking that if anyone had him at all, he'd be terribly lucky.
Finally, he realized his slow songs were slowly killing everyone, because midway through one he said "Fuck it. I'm going to play something uptempo." And he did and it was surprisingly, mercifully, better than what had been happening.
Afterwards, he announced he was going to send free zip files with full studio albums from his band to all of us, and curious, I signed up for it. Unfortunately, this meant having to go up and talk to him in person, which honestly, I wasn't really interested in doing. He shook my hand and he seemed okay, though still a little full of himself. He talked to me as if I should immediately think he was a genius, and this annoyed me.
We took a cab, which I about never do. We split it four ways, so the good news is that I only owe Miriam five dollars for the night. (I am miserably bad with change, and didn't have any fives or ones to give her.)
The cab driver was totally awful. He sounded totally confused with Claire told him where to go. He kept repeating it as if he'd never heard of it before, and this makes me nervous. What is it with non-native English speakers repeating everything you say to them? It makes me wonder if they aren't understanding, which would be fine, if they would just ask. There's a guy at the caf that does the same thing. When he first started working there, this would really irk me, but now I mostly ignore it.
It took him a while to find it, and then he sort of just left us in the middle of the street. Um, gee, thanks? Claire told me she thought he was "absolute crap." Amen.
The concert was at this hotel. Actually, I'm honestly not sure if it was a hotel, because the ground level was a very dark bar, with all this wood paneling so it looked super fancy and old, like it would be the sort of place Victorian playboys or Edwardian lords or even flapper girls. I hate the phrase "old-timey" but that's what it reminded me of.
We went up these stairs, where everything was painted a kelly green. At the top was this bizarre room. It was a greenhouse on the roof of the building. The floor had hexagonal white and black tiles, like a bathroom (and again, an old bathroom, like something from the fifties) and Victorian streetlamps in the middle of the room. In one corner, the band was setting up. On the side opposite of where we entered, a very large and fancy bar was being set up.
We were early, which was weird, because Elizabeth thought we were going to be late.
No, instead we spent a lot time sitting around waiting.
The music they played while we waited was all very mod, very forgotten bits of the London 60's. I rather liked it. I used to listen to this music a lot as a young girl, but I haven't for ages.
I feel a little badly about admitting this, but I was not happy with the other sorts of people at this gig. There were a lot of women there, and a lot of them were tall and leggy and clearly could be models. I am not a beautiful person; I felt uglier than normal there. There were also a lot of hipsters there, and I could feel myself roll my eyes internally at them.
Claire asked me where I had gotten my outfit, which was the same one I had worn out a few weeks back when I went out with Erin and Carrie. I told her I had mostly gotten it second hand. The dress, belt and pants were all very cheap, and considering how good I looked, I was pretty pleased with this. The sweater was my Mom's, on loan. And the underwear and panties I had on underneath were mine, along with the socks and tennis shoes. (Aren't you glad to hear that?) "I spent about fifteen dollars on this outfit, overall" I told her, which is pretty damn good. She was impressed.
At this point, a man sidled up to us. He was with a girl. He looked Mediterranean, with the dark eyes and hair and beard. Usually, I would find someone like this attractive, but the skin around his eyes was all red and there was something about him that was off.
For some strange reason Claire felt the need to tell him I was a bit rambunctious. He didn't grin but said "Tell me more." Oh ew. Okay, moving on.
The opening act was this young man from a band who was just playing solo. He was okay. He was playing a very country/blues kind of sound, which normally would be fine, but the crowd clearly wanted to party, and here he was, sort of killing the mood with all these sad songs about girls leaving him. He had one about, I kid you not, driving out on New Orleans during Katrina.
How old is this guy? I thought. He looked my age or slightly older. He was near New Orleans during Katrina?
He was also weirdly egotistically. Like, he had this whole thing where he acted as if he was amazing, and although his playing was quite good, there was nothing about him that was memorable (other than maybe his strange self). He seemed to be playing mostly as a way of pushing himself on the audience.
He talked to much, and Claire didn't like him or his music and she didn't like that he was swearing. At one point, she said something under her breath about the swearing, and it was at the perfect moment, because a hush just happened to fall on the audience right then, and everyone heard her. Claire covered her mouth in embarrassment, and I roared with laughter.
The guy continued playing slow songs. There was something about him that was really awkward, but he also seemed really oblivious about it.
"Did you think you were the best I ever had?" he sang. I found myself thinking that if anyone had him at all, he'd be terribly lucky.
Finally, he realized his slow songs were slowly killing everyone, because midway through one he said "Fuck it. I'm going to play something uptempo." And he did and it was surprisingly, mercifully, better than what had been happening.
Afterwards, he announced he was going to send free zip files with full studio albums from his band to all of us, and curious, I signed up for it. Unfortunately, this meant having to go up and talk to him in person, which honestly, I wasn't really interested in doing. He shook my hand and he seemed okay, though still a little full of himself. He talked to me as if I should immediately think he was a genius, and this annoyed me.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Dreadfully Ever After
I just wanted to post this review of Dreadfully Ever After, which is the new Pride and Prejudice and Zombies sequel.
I liked certain things about the first book. I thought there was something really clever about it, and there was some great imagery and writing. The fault was that the transitions between the new writer and Austen were really abrupt.
From what the reviewer said, it sounds like that this book wisely doesn't do that.
I also like that Elizabeth is the hero in this story. I need more female heroes.
I liked certain things about the first book. I thought there was something really clever about it, and there was some great imagery and writing. The fault was that the transitions between the new writer and Austen were really abrupt.
From what the reviewer said, it sounds like that this book wisely doesn't do that.
I also like that Elizabeth is the hero in this story. I need more female heroes.
Friday, January 28, 2011
The Night of Ring Day
Dinner tonight was quiet. Ruth is gone and Elizabeth didn't show up, so it was sort of a smaller group than usual. Jenny talked a bit about her first hangover and Claire and her struck up a conversation talking about Scottish slang.
Preadad came over to sit with us again tonight. I really don't like her, and I wish, honestly, she wouldn't talk to me, because I hate making the effort to be nice to her. It sounds terrible, but I sort of like it when I and someone else decide we don't like each other, and since there aren't many circumstances in which we have to talk to one other, we simply avoid each other, and thus avoid confrontation. I especially like this because it allows me to avoid trying to be better natured than I truly am.
It was all big news that we were going out tonight to celebrate Rachel getting a new job. I found myself wondering how much I should put into my appearance. I really don't want to make an effort tonight, and honestly if this wasn't for Rachel, I wouldn't go out at all and just stay in and watch a movie.
Nina asked me to buy toilet paper, and since I was running low on shampoo, in between dinner and going out I went to get some. Pharmacies around here are shabby, and this one was no different, with the computer freezing up as I tried to check out.
I finally got home, and put on the lightest bit of makeup, and then went downstairs. On the way down, I ran into Mimi. She gave me this strange speech about when one should press the button on the elevator. "Wait five seconds before you press it."
"Okay," I said. I continued saying that, even though she didn't really wait for me to confirm I was listening, just talked about how you have to wait, counting it out for me in demonstration. It's not as if it matters: the door closes when it is ready to; pressing the button at one second or another doesn't make a difference; you still end up at the same place at the same time. But everyone sort of humors Mimi because she seems to be at least a little bit mad.
Downstairs we had a ring day celebration. This is some strange game Elizabeth made up to celebrate achievements of various kinds. The last time was for Rebecca, and for whatever reason I missed it. (Had I gone out that even with Mikey? I can't recall.) Anyway, this was my first ring day, so I didn't know exactly what to expect, though Elizabeth had explained it to me once.
Basically, Elizabeth brought this giant hula hoop, covered with ribbons, and she told Rachel she had to walk through it. Several people took pictures as Rachel crawled through in in slow motion. (She even said the word "slow motion" as slowly as possible.)
Then Elizabeth gave Rachel this ring, which I was really surprised to say looked really nice. It was sort of knot set with green stones. Then everyone had to twist the ring around Rachel's ring going towards the pinkie finger. "Don't go the other way or she'll be a nun," Elizabeth insisted. I honestly don't know if that's true or not, but I really don't know much about how nuns are made other than to say they are married to God and whatnot.
There were other people sort of milling about and you could tell they thought we were barking mad, and they were sort of laughing at our escapades. I hate to say it, but adults are always making up little games, even if they don't talk about it. (Especially if they don't talk about.)
Lola was there, and I was sort of surprised to see her. I don't remember her being as pretty as she was today. Maybe I am appreciating her now that I don't see her on a regular basis and she doesn't have a chance to annoy me twice a day.
We went out to the bar then. When we got there, we had a bit of trouble. The woman wouldn't let us sit down at a table. The girls prefer this bar because they let us sit down. I realized if we were here an hour later it probably wouldn't be a problem.
Amanda made the comment that "the customer is always right," and that service jobs are all about giving people what they want. She's right, of course, but it is one of the things that I am not good at, even when I remind myself. I am just naturally not inclined towards other people.
I think what was sort of irritating was that Rachel had actually made reservations before hand, and they were giving her trouble now.
After a bit of trouble, they let us sit down. I tried to be super gracious. I'd been to this bar before and I had never seen the young woman in question, which makes me wonder if she is new.
We had the same waiter we had a couple of weeks ago when I went out with the girls. A bunch of them ordered margaritas. I noticed a listening for a spiked Arnold Palmer, so I ordered that.
It was horrible. Like, really rank. I actually have not been impressed by this place in terms of drinks. Long Island Ice Teas and Captain and Cokes are also really bad at this place. And I'm not a fan of margaritas.
Meanwhile, I chatted with the girls. Lola sat on the other side of the table, so I didn't really mind her at all tonight. I sat with Jenny and Claire. Jenny and I complained a lot about various mutual enemies. We sort of filled Claire in on how Jenny has become Mimi's friend, though Jenny really hates her. Everyone enjoyed my story of the latest run-in with Mimi on the elevator.
Jenny also knew somethings about Mimi I didn't. According to Jenny, Mimi has four sisters, and all of them are married and normal. Mimi was apparently showing Jenny a family album and she had all these pictures of her nephews and nieces, and none of them were smiling in any of them.
"That's because they were with Mimi," Jenny explained.
Preadad came over to sit with us again tonight. I really don't like her, and I wish, honestly, she wouldn't talk to me, because I hate making the effort to be nice to her. It sounds terrible, but I sort of like it when I and someone else decide we don't like each other, and since there aren't many circumstances in which we have to talk to one other, we simply avoid each other, and thus avoid confrontation. I especially like this because it allows me to avoid trying to be better natured than I truly am.
It was all big news that we were going out tonight to celebrate Rachel getting a new job. I found myself wondering how much I should put into my appearance. I really don't want to make an effort tonight, and honestly if this wasn't for Rachel, I wouldn't go out at all and just stay in and watch a movie.
Nina asked me to buy toilet paper, and since I was running low on shampoo, in between dinner and going out I went to get some. Pharmacies around here are shabby, and this one was no different, with the computer freezing up as I tried to check out.
I finally got home, and put on the lightest bit of makeup, and then went downstairs. On the way down, I ran into Mimi. She gave me this strange speech about when one should press the button on the elevator. "Wait five seconds before you press it."
"Okay," I said. I continued saying that, even though she didn't really wait for me to confirm I was listening, just talked about how you have to wait, counting it out for me in demonstration. It's not as if it matters: the door closes when it is ready to; pressing the button at one second or another doesn't make a difference; you still end up at the same place at the same time. But everyone sort of humors Mimi because she seems to be at least a little bit mad.
Downstairs we had a ring day celebration. This is some strange game Elizabeth made up to celebrate achievements of various kinds. The last time was for Rebecca, and for whatever reason I missed it. (Had I gone out that even with Mikey? I can't recall.) Anyway, this was my first ring day, so I didn't know exactly what to expect, though Elizabeth had explained it to me once.
Basically, Elizabeth brought this giant hula hoop, covered with ribbons, and she told Rachel she had to walk through it. Several people took pictures as Rachel crawled through in in slow motion. (She even said the word "slow motion" as slowly as possible.)
Then Elizabeth gave Rachel this ring, which I was really surprised to say looked really nice. It was sort of knot set with green stones. Then everyone had to twist the ring around Rachel's ring going towards the pinkie finger. "Don't go the other way or she'll be a nun," Elizabeth insisted. I honestly don't know if that's true or not, but I really don't know much about how nuns are made other than to say they are married to God and whatnot.
There were other people sort of milling about and you could tell they thought we were barking mad, and they were sort of laughing at our escapades. I hate to say it, but adults are always making up little games, even if they don't talk about it. (Especially if they don't talk about.)
Lola was there, and I was sort of surprised to see her. I don't remember her being as pretty as she was today. Maybe I am appreciating her now that I don't see her on a regular basis and she doesn't have a chance to annoy me twice a day.
We went out to the bar then. When we got there, we had a bit of trouble. The woman wouldn't let us sit down at a table. The girls prefer this bar because they let us sit down. I realized if we were here an hour later it probably wouldn't be a problem.
Amanda made the comment that "the customer is always right," and that service jobs are all about giving people what they want. She's right, of course, but it is one of the things that I am not good at, even when I remind myself. I am just naturally not inclined towards other people.
I think what was sort of irritating was that Rachel had actually made reservations before hand, and they were giving her trouble now.
After a bit of trouble, they let us sit down. I tried to be super gracious. I'd been to this bar before and I had never seen the young woman in question, which makes me wonder if she is new.
We had the same waiter we had a couple of weeks ago when I went out with the girls. A bunch of them ordered margaritas. I noticed a listening for a spiked Arnold Palmer, so I ordered that.
It was horrible. Like, really rank. I actually have not been impressed by this place in terms of drinks. Long Island Ice Teas and Captain and Cokes are also really bad at this place. And I'm not a fan of margaritas.
Meanwhile, I chatted with the girls. Lola sat on the other side of the table, so I didn't really mind her at all tonight. I sat with Jenny and Claire. Jenny and I complained a lot about various mutual enemies. We sort of filled Claire in on how Jenny has become Mimi's friend, though Jenny really hates her. Everyone enjoyed my story of the latest run-in with Mimi on the elevator.
Jenny also knew somethings about Mimi I didn't. According to Jenny, Mimi has four sisters, and all of them are married and normal. Mimi was apparently showing Jenny a family album and she had all these pictures of her nephews and nieces, and none of them were smiling in any of them.
"That's because they were with Mimi," Jenny explained.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Literary Bad Boys
Friday, June 25, 2010
They Don't Pay Me Enough to Do This
My Mom, among other things, runs her own business. This apparently means that I am required to help out with it. Not my sister or Dad, of course, but me.
Yesterday, I was trying to eat some thin crusted pizza, and my Mom was upset that I wasn't helping her at that moment. I had spent the morning visiting my Grandma and taking care of her. It was 4:30 and I hadn't had anything to eat since 9:30 that morning. It annoys me a little that she was like that, but I decided to treat her with the sort of patience I suspect elementary school teachers use on a particularly bad kid: ignoring her as much as possible.
Once I got done, I did start helping her with stuff. She asked me to stuff envelopes. She has all this stuff she wants me to put in each one, and that's fine, I can do that, but of course I need all the materials. She flew around trying to find all of them. I turned on the tv and watched some nature program about predators on the African Serengeti. I'm glad no one gave me a hard time about what I was watching.
As I was working on that, my Mom's friend Elizabeth came over. I don't really like Elizabeth. There's something off about her that I'm still struggling to put my finger on. I get the distinct impression she wishes she was my Mom, or at least her daughter. She has my Mom's same terrible haircut and runs everything in her life like my Mom does.
One of the other things that irks me about her is that she brought her toddler over. I don't really like kids, but every time that she comes over she almost always brings her toddler over, and it doesn't matter what I am doing, my Mom plops her down in front of me with the directions to "watch her." I hate that because they treat me like I'm at beck and call for unpaid babysitting time. In addition to that, when I actually go over to Elizabeth's house to babysit her kid, I get paid about 2.20 an hour, which for those of you not up on babysitting wages, it's terrible. Normal babysitting is at least seven, honestly, and when you count the impromptu time, I deserve so much more than 2.20 an hour. So when I saw the toddler come into the house, my heart fell. Oh please, I thought, don't make me watch her.
Luckily, my Mom had other tasks for me. I found myself more than happy to do those. I stuffed more envelopes and switched to Doctor Who, which was showing the finale to season three. I love Doctor Who, and my favorite companion (so far!) is Martha, so this cheered my up considerably.
I texted Matt, telling him that it was on (he's a fan too). We haven't talked since last week, on our dinner that was almost certainly a date. He told me he was out but that he'd look into it.
Other friends of my Mom's started coming into the house. There are very few of her friends that I like, and she seems to get closer to one's I particularly dislike. Several of those women came in. One of them asked what I was watching. "Doctor Who," I answered. They were mostly too busy with some stuff they were helping my Mom out with, including making some food. My Dad was baking some kind of Raspberry Crumble Cake, which meant he was going to ask me three or four times if I tried it and what I thought of it. One of the few good things about my Mom's business is that she usually has some food around when people come by, and that always means I'm allowed to have some of it too.
After I finished stuffing envelopes, she had all these prizes she was giving away, so would I please stuff those too? Okay. I began doing that. As I did, Elizabeth's daughter bounced around on our couch's headboard. Elizabeth yelled at her a few times to no avail.
Yesterday, I was trying to eat some thin crusted pizza, and my Mom was upset that I wasn't helping her at that moment. I had spent the morning visiting my Grandma and taking care of her. It was 4:30 and I hadn't had anything to eat since 9:30 that morning. It annoys me a little that she was like that, but I decided to treat her with the sort of patience I suspect elementary school teachers use on a particularly bad kid: ignoring her as much as possible.
Once I got done, I did start helping her with stuff. She asked me to stuff envelopes. She has all this stuff she wants me to put in each one, and that's fine, I can do that, but of course I need all the materials. She flew around trying to find all of them. I turned on the tv and watched some nature program about predators on the African Serengeti. I'm glad no one gave me a hard time about what I was watching.
As I was working on that, my Mom's friend Elizabeth came over. I don't really like Elizabeth. There's something off about her that I'm still struggling to put my finger on. I get the distinct impression she wishes she was my Mom, or at least her daughter. She has my Mom's same terrible haircut and runs everything in her life like my Mom does.
One of the other things that irks me about her is that she brought her toddler over. I don't really like kids, but every time that she comes over she almost always brings her toddler over, and it doesn't matter what I am doing, my Mom plops her down in front of me with the directions to "watch her." I hate that because they treat me like I'm at beck and call for unpaid babysitting time. In addition to that, when I actually go over to Elizabeth's house to babysit her kid, I get paid about 2.20 an hour, which for those of you not up on babysitting wages, it's terrible. Normal babysitting is at least seven, honestly, and when you count the impromptu time, I deserve so much more than 2.20 an hour. So when I saw the toddler come into the house, my heart fell. Oh please, I thought, don't make me watch her.
I texted Matt, telling him that it was on (he's a fan too). We haven't talked since last week, on our dinner that was almost certainly a date. He told me he was out but that he'd look into it.
Other friends of my Mom's started coming into the house. There are very few of her friends that I like, and she seems to get closer to one's I particularly dislike. Several of those women came in. One of them asked what I was watching. "Doctor Who," I answered. They were mostly too busy with some stuff they were helping my Mom out with, including making some food. My Dad was baking some kind of Raspberry Crumble Cake, which meant he was going to ask me three or four times if I tried it and what I thought of it. One of the few good things about my Mom's business is that she usually has some food around when people come by, and that always means I'm allowed to have some of it too.
After I finished stuffing envelopes, she had all these prizes she was giving away, so would I please stuff those too? Okay. I began doing that. As I did, Elizabeth's daughter bounced around on our couch's headboard. Elizabeth yelled at her a few times to no avail.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Last Night's Wit
Last night, my Mom had some friends over for a craft marathon. My Mom loves making stuff like that.
I'm not a huge fan of all my Mom's friends, but a lot of them seem to think I'm hilarious.
They were discussing my Mom's boss, Cherrie, who I hate. Among other things, Cherrie likes to tell people who aren't Pentecostals that they're going to hell. Obviously, as someone who believes in religious tolerance, I have little patience for this kind of stuff.
Cherrie's what I like to call a Pharisee, one of those Christians that thinks that she somehow is better than others because of her religion. (The name is a reference to a parable of Jesus covered in Luke 18:9-14). Wrong. She just likes to use religion to justify her own behavior.
Anyway, Elizabeth (one of my Mom's friends) and my Mom were discussing Cherrie, and my Mom refrained from saying anything bad.
"You know," I said "It's okay in this household to call Cherrie a selfish bitch. It's the truth."
"You go girl!" Elizabeth said. Yeah yeah.
Later on in the evening, my Mom asked me if I had a zip drive she could borrow. "Sorry," I said.
"You lost my purple zip drive."
"I didn't lose it. I just don't know where it is."
Elizabeth thought this was hilarious.
In truth, I'm almost certain my zip drives are in a particular backpack. If not, they're buried with a bunch of my other college stuff.
I'm not a huge fan of all my Mom's friends, but a lot of them seem to think I'm hilarious.
They were discussing my Mom's boss, Cherrie, who I hate. Among other things, Cherrie likes to tell people who aren't Pentecostals that they're going to hell. Obviously, as someone who believes in religious tolerance, I have little patience for this kind of stuff.
Cherrie's what I like to call a Pharisee, one of those Christians that thinks that she somehow is better than others because of her religion. (The name is a reference to a parable of Jesus covered in Luke 18:9-14). Wrong. She just likes to use religion to justify her own behavior.
Anyway, Elizabeth (one of my Mom's friends) and my Mom were discussing Cherrie, and my Mom refrained from saying anything bad.
"You know," I said "It's okay in this household to call Cherrie a selfish bitch. It's the truth."
"You go girl!" Elizabeth said. Yeah yeah.
Later on in the evening, my Mom asked me if I had a zip drive she could borrow. "Sorry," I said.
"You lost my purple zip drive."
"I didn't lose it. I just don't know where it is."
Elizabeth thought this was hilarious.
In truth, I'm almost certain my zip drives are in a particular backpack. If not, they're buried with a bunch of my other college stuff.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
William II in 1166
Just got back this evening from a study group at the library for the final tomorrow. Elizabeth, who is such a nice girl and clearly one of the better things happening in the history department, organized this. We basically went over a ton of stuff. I was only there for two hours, and we still didn't go over everything, just mostly everything. Plus, there are always discrepancies between our notes. At one point, Elizabeth mentioned William II doing something in 1166, and I was hella confused.
Cameron, one of the other smart kids in the class, mentioned that the upcoming medieval conference was only a week away. (!) I knew Kalamazoo had a conference in the summer, I just didn't know it was going to be so soon. I would really like to go, but I don't know if I could justify it, especially to my parents, who are ignorant of my medieval love.
I'm also a tad annoyed, because I realize the dumbest kid in class probably has a crush on me. I've caught him staring at me with those big wondering eyes that boys get sometimes. Why why why why WHY does this always happen? I can get a guy's attention, it's just always the wrong guy. Why can't a guy I admire and love feel the same way about me? Why is it always the ones I think are worthless?
I feel like God is taunting me.
Cameron, one of the other smart kids in the class, mentioned that the upcoming medieval conference was only a week away. (!) I knew Kalamazoo had a conference in the summer, I just didn't know it was going to be so soon. I would really like to go, but I don't know if I could justify it, especially to my parents, who are ignorant of my medieval love.
I'm also a tad annoyed, because I realize the dumbest kid in class probably has a crush on me. I've caught him staring at me with those big wondering eyes that boys get sometimes. Why why why why WHY does this always happen? I can get a guy's attention, it's just always the wrong guy. Why can't a guy I admire and love feel the same way about me? Why is it always the ones I think are worthless?
I feel like God is taunting me.
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