Notes from Stream of Consciousness Central

Oh the interesting ways people get to my site. Apparently when someone types in “What does it mean when your boyfriend tells you that the timing is off?” in the Yahoo search engine, I come up as result number 12. I think that's totally funny. And actually, a little sad -- does this person have no one they can talk to about this and they've resorted to using the Yahoo search engine? That's sad! However, you know, since they asked and all, here is my advice: Unless he has a stellar reason for saying that? He’s trying to break up with you. Pretty soon you’ll get the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line, followed by ‘I’m at a place in my life where I really just need to focus on ME.’ And yes, I know—hello pot? This is the kettle. You’re black – but hey, I live by my own rules and that means I can give out sensible advice to others without ever heeding said advice myself. Because when I make up the rules? I can change them at will. That’s why it’s great to live by my rules.

So every day I take the exit from 6th avenue to C-470 in order to get home. Quite a while ago, a skunk got run over there. The skunk must have been drunk (as a skunk? Ha) or high, because for the life of me, I can’t figure out why he would think it was a good idea to cross one four-lane highway in order to get to more concrete and more cars whizzing by. I guess we’ll never know. What I do know is that that damn skunk is still there and I’m so grossed out. Seriously, I live in the foothills of Colorado -- where are the hawks and other natural roadkill predators? Because after all this time, it’s now less actual skunk and more clumps of fur and other stuff required for decomposition. And every day, even if I tell myself not to, I look at it. I can’t help it. And every day, my gag reflex kicks in and I’m like “gaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” It’s just nasty. I feel like calling whatever city or county is in charge of that exit and tell them “Hey, next time someone wants to ‘adopt a highway,’ could you direct them to that particular exit? And could they adopt it with a bucket of water and some push brooms? Like, yesterday? Thanks.” Ew.

So I have mentioned once or twice that I hate my job? Ah – I thought so. I sent out four more resumes today. Once I finish the homework I’ve been procrastinating, I’m going to send out more. I’m trying to ignore the words of an email I got last week that keep ringing in my head “Thank you for your interest in this position (blah blah blah). It was a difficult decision, as we received over 300 applications.” THREE HUNDRED?? This THIS is what I’m up against. At least in the non-profit world. But I keep sending out resumes and hoping that today will be the day that I’m exactly what they were looking for.

You know how a certain song or artist will remind you immediately of a time or event or person in your life? Most of the time I love that, but sometimes, I have to fight through the (insert negative emotion here) memories of the end of a relationship so that I don’t have to stop listening to a particular artist who reminds me of someone I don’t especially want to be reminded of. Past examples include Dave Matthews (Dave’s a survivor – he’s weathered two breakups) and Sting (one relationship and one friendship – good work, Sting). The most recent example is History Boy. In case you forgot, he is now dead to me. However, when we were younger, he LOVED Depeche Mode, and as a result, I always associate him with that band. I have come to really like them over the years, and I refuse to let the fact that he’s a monumental ass overshadow the fact that they’re an awesome band and I love them. So I will continue to listen to Depeche Mode in defiance of him and his lame excuses. HA!

And finally, in case you were on the edge of your seat, saying to yourself “Self, has Amber heard from Not Boyfriend since they saw each other last?” I would answer that yes, he called on Thursday to say “hi” before he left for the weekend to go hunting. Must…push…down…hope…

My Phone Calling Policy: Amended

"Oh sure, they say they're busy. They say that they didn't have even a moment in their insanely busy day to pick up the phone. It was just that crazy. All lies. With the advent of cell phones and speed dialing, it is almost impossible not to call you.Sometimes I call people from my pants pocket when I don't even mean to. If I were into you, you would be the bright spot in my horribly busy day. Which would be a day that I would never be too busy to call you." -- Greg Behrendt, He's Just Not That Into You

That's one of my favorite lines from that book, and one that I have remembered when HE (whoever HE happens to be at that point in time) doesn't call because he's just too busy. "Whatever," I would say to myself. "Clearly he's not that into me and therefore he is now dead to me (tm Becki)." Except for Not Boyfriend, but hey, every rule has it's exceptions, right?

And now, I'm going to have to revise my stance on the "I'm too busy" excuse. Because seriously, I'm too busy. The only person I talk to pretty much every day is my mom, and a lot of those calls consist of me asking her to run some sort of errand for me because I work 45 minutes away from everything non-work-related and because of that, I leave before most places open and get home after they close. I haven't seen my friend Sandra since June. It took me a week to call back my friend Mandy. I think Kendra went out of town today, but I'm not sure, because the last time I talked to her was Monday. I mean to call you, I want to call you, it's just that suddenly, it's 11 at night and a) it may be too late to call you, or b) I'm pretty tired and don't feel like talking anyway.

I'm not saying "oh you should feel sorry for me because I'm so busy" because that's not it. I like to be busy. The CRAZINESS of the past couple weeks I could probably do without, but I figure eventually it'll calm down. Not sure when that'll be, but it has to be sometime, right?

Bottom line is that I guess I can understand why someone wouldn't call back right away. However, I think when it's your friends you aren't calling back, it's different than someone you like. Because guess what -- I WOULD be the bright spot in your horribly busy day. I'm a hoot. And you would probably be the bright spot in mine. If we ever ended up talking at some point.

P.S. You know who I'm NOT amending this rule for? History Boy. He's out of chances and out of slack, so basically? History. Again. I'm going to have to make a rule about not dating anyone named Shawn/Sean/Shaun or any variation on that, because they're inevitably jerks. And Capricorns. I don't date Capricorns well. I'm just saying.

Word Association

I've been totally uninspired in the writing department for the last few days. And therefore, we're going to do what psychologists like to call "word association." I'll say a word and then say the first thing that comes to my mind. Here it is:

University of Colorado Law Library – Overwhelming
I’m taking “Nonprofit Legal and Governmental Issues” this term, and for our second class last night, we met at the CU law library, because my school doesn’t have a law library. Anyway, it was amazing. I love the regular library – I know, shocking – but the law library is a completely different story. If my thoughts regarding going to law school after I get my masters weren’t already dashed ($90,000 in loans just doesn’t seem that great to me), the ultra-confusing law library sealed the deal. I’m going to have to get over it though – I have a research paper due in six weeks that will require going to the library.

Brakes – Shot
So for the past month or so, my emergency brake light would come on when I would be using my regular brakes. Because I’m just so “car savvy,” I figured it was simply a wire that my blatant disregard for speed bumps had loosened. When I went to get an oil change today, they looked at my brakes, and lo and behold, it wasn’t just a loose wire. Turns out, I had no front brakes. At all. Before you roll your eyes about how dumb I am about cars, I would like to say that I got new brakes last summer, and I have NEVER had to get brakes on a yearly basis. Plus, my car is relatively new. Anyway, I ended up not making it to work because I had to wait while our mechanic fixed my brakes. Luckily, because our mechanic rocks, he fixed them for a grand total of – $6. Even though it’s technically been more than a year since they did them last, the warranty was up, but they were cool about it. Probably because we take all our cars there. Moral of the story: not having brakes is a bad thing, but when the fixing of said brakes prevents me from spending yet another torturous day at work, well, I’m alright with that.

Job – Misery
So I have had two “phone interviews” in the last couple of weeks, and I found out yesterday that the job I really wanted I did NOT get. It was like turning off a light switch – instantaneously my glimmer of hope was gone and I had an overwhelming feeling that I will be trapped in this job forever. I wanted to throw up. I can’t explain to you how much I hate my job. There are no words. All I can do is keep sending out resumes and have faith that the job that is best for me is out there and everything happens for a reason. Some days it’s harder than others. Yesterday was definitely that day.

Not Boyfriend – ?
So I saw Not Boyfriend on Saturday night. Keep in mind, this was the first time I’ve seen him in 8 months. And amazingly, it was as if no time had passed. We talked and talked and talked and there were no awkward silences and absolutely zero weirdness. I love him. Not “those three little words” love, but like “I absolutely adore you” love. Different. I love that we can talk forever about anything and everything, and it’s never small talk. It’s conversation. I love that he makes me laugh all the time, but tells me serious things as well. I love the way he kisses me (yes, I kissed him – actually, he kissed me because I was not about to instigate that) and I love the way he smells. Even better, I love the way my shirt smells like him after he leaves. Of the four or five guys I’ve dated since we stopped talking in January, not one has come close to him in the “what I want” department. The closest has been Bachelor #2, and he’s not out of the running, but there are extenuating circumstances in his case. At any rate, I adore Not Boyfriend. I want him to be Actual Boyfriend. But as the above question mark denotes, the status of that is uncertain at this point. He’s got his own extenuating circumstances, but things are changing (for the better) for him right now, so I’ll chill and see what happens. But for now? I loooooooove him.

***Oh, and also? If you feel like catching up on the Saga of Not Boyfriend? Check out "A Boy and his Dog" He shows up in a few other early blogs, but that one is expressly about him.

Worst. Liar. Ever.

My brother thinks he’s sneaky, but he really isn’t. I told my mom I was writing this because of the lie he got caught in yesterday, and I needed some other stories about when he got caught in a lie. Because he’s a bad liar. She informed me that there’s no such thing as a good liar, because liars aren’t good. Ok, mom – he’s an INEFFECTIVE liar.

Case in point: he left a message for my mom yesterday that said “hey, I ran into my old buddy Anthony, and so we’re going to go get some dinner after I finish working.” Ok, fine, whatever.

My dad plays basketball on Thursday nights. He has since 1975. Oftentimes, he and the guys go out for beers at the Old Chicago by our house after they play. So he’s there last night, and who should be there? My brother, with his old buddy Anthony. If by “old buddy Anthony” you mean “a girl.” So Tim, Tip #1: If you’re going to lie about who you’re with, maybe you should go somewhere with them outside of a one mile radius of our house. Especially since it’s Thursday and that’s ALWAYS the Old C’s that dad goes to.

My parents go out of town and my mom tells him specifically “no girls in the house.” She tells me “maybe you could unexpectedly show up sometime and make sure no girls are there.” I’m like “what do I look like, the KGB? No.” Also, for one, I don’t care if he has a girl over, and two, if he does, I certainly don’t want to walk in on something that could potentially be burned in my brain for all time. And not in a good way. Thanks, but I’ll pass.

So my parents come home and my mom is collecting laundry and she finds a cardigan in his room. My brother wears some weird stuff, but this is clearly not his. She asks me if it’s mine. I said no – and now you see where this is going. He’s like “Christie left it in my car and I brought it in.” And my mom’s like “Right. You forget to bring in your paychecks, but you brought in the sweater.” Tip #2: If you’re going to have a girl over, make sure she takes all her clothes home with her when she leaves.

My brother was in elementary school, and he was walking home with some friends. My mom sees him coming through our backyard with our neighbors and this teenager, who Tim said had been harassing him the whole way home. The teenager said that Tim called some lady a bitch while he was walking home, but Tim denied that up and down. So my mom called the four kids he’d been walking with and asked them, and every single one of them said “Yeah, he called her that.” Story: shot down. Tip #3: Get your story straight. If there are other people involved in the lie, make sure they know about it.

My brother has been a constant source of amusement almost since the day he was born. While I would sometimes get bummed that we didn’t grow up together because I’m almost nine years older than him, I wouldn’t trade the fact that I have so many more memories of him than I would have otherwise. Seriously, that kid was unintentionally hilarious all the time. Now he’s funny on purpose, only with less hijinks.

Happy 21st Birthday little brother – I love you!

*This picture was taken last summer when we were building houses in Mexico. My brother is 7 inches taller than me, so I'm lucky to be in the picture at all, since he's holding the camera*

Return of the Monsters of Rock

Ok, so since everyone put in their two cents about what should have been included on my recent metal mix, I am going to post the titles of the songs on the cd. Let's play a little game and see who can guess every single artist -- and it has to be guesses based on your fabulous knowledge of all things hair band and not on what Google has to say about it. Aaaaaaannndd...go!

1. When it’s love
2. Love in an elevator
3. Dr. Feelgood
4. Glamour Boys
5. Pour some sugar on me
6. Hit between the eyes
7. Down Boys
8. Talk Dirty to Me
9. Why can’t this be love?
10. Welcome to the Jungle
11. I’ll Never Let You Go
12. If I Close My Eyes Forever
13. Don’t Know What You Got (‘Til it’s Gone)
14. Love Song
15. Love and Affection
16. Girls, Girls, Girls
17. Cherry Pie
18. Nothin’ But a Good Time
19. Detroit Rock City

Coincidentally, when I was home on Tuesday (yes, I took a day off work. I was sick. Sick of being there) it was like all metal all the time day on VH1. I watched "When Metal Ruled the World" -- sort of, because it was on at the same time as "NYPD Blue" and mommy had to watch her stories. Anyway, after that was "Inside Out: Resurrecting Motley Crue," in which they tried to get Motley Crue back together for one show. I liked it, because, of course, I like Tommy Lee for some inexplicable reason. Then it was "Behind the Music: Guns 'N Roses." I learned so much. Did you know that Slash DIED one time? Heart stopped, no pulse, drug overdosed dead. But now even though he was a drug-addled mess for a long time (and he DIED), he is amazingly articulate? And not to be all your mom or anything, but he's pretty good looking now that his hair is out of his face. I'm going to have to check out Velvet Revolver. There's more, but I can sense that you're getting bored. Anyway, I think I might have gone into a television-induced coma after that, because I can't remember what I did. Wait -- maybe I watched "Buffy." Or took a nap. Or attempted to read 8500 pages for my law class. Whatever. It was a good day.