Semi Drunken Blog

I like the idea of posting a song coinciding my blog post... that way you give people the option of listening to your maybe-terrible music whilst reading. Unlike some, who just incorporate the music right into their blog for your "listening pleasure." No thanks, Alyss (my big sister @ bellapearlsmom.blogspot.com... if you're not following her blog, she's a riot...) I don't want to hear John Denver and/or Chicago. ("That John Denver is full of shit.") Anyway, I was listening to Elvin Bishop on the drive home, one of my all time favorites. Don't read too much into this, people. This is a classic.

While this blog is already headed in no real direction, I would like to say that I am working my ass off at two jobs. Plus the people at my new job don't seem too keen on me, so that's always fun. I can hear them now:

"The new girl is so pretty."

"The new girl is going to take our job."

"I hear the new girl worships the devil."

And what-have-you.

(I'm trying to keep the typos down to a minimum.)

Isn't Elvin Bishop the best? My roommate went home to Michigan today for fam-time. Poor girl. Packing her bag was like deciding her last meal. It was like a hundred degrees here today and she was going straight into nineteen degree weather. Me, while checking out the ten day forecast for Ann Arbor: "Woah, the high is twenty-two on Wednesday. Good luck!" And THAT'S why I live in Texas.

I abhor cold weather. The only upside to cold weather is deer season and hot toddies. Which both, if you really don't care to regard social acceptability, are okay at any time of the year.

What else happened today that I can gab about? Keep in mind when I am writing half this shit, I'm not thinking of anyone else actually reading it. Like I think it's being kept solely between blogspot and me. It's our little secret. Then later, when bar regulars come up to me and they're all, "Yeah, I really enjoyed your last blog," I'm like, "What the hell? You read my blog?"

Def Leppard Car Cleaning

Original Sister and I grew up rocking out to Phil Collins and Def Leppard with Mom and Lisa and my two oldest and dearest friends, Jessi and Taylor. (Years later, I would be dancing to "Pour Some Sugar on Me" every night at the bar I worked at... thanks Mom.) I bought a Def Leppard CD today and rocked out to it while cleaning my car (yes, I still buy CD's).

I think this post will be a lot cooler if you listen to "Animal" while you read. 1987: Post arm amputation.

I'm not normally a messy person... lately I haven't really been in keeping with the whole "cleanliness" thing. Maybe I have too much going on... not sure what my excuse is. Anyway, the old 'stang is a wreck. Only one person can travel with me at a time due to the excess of trash in the backseat. Roomie and I went to get kolaches this morning and after getting out of my car, she had a Twix wrapper stuck to her shoe. Time to clean up, I reckon.

While it's fun treasure hunting, it's also disheartening finding things you wish you would have known were there but didn't because they were under McDonald's wrappers and Wells Fargo receipts.

Regretful findings:

-Mikey's parking pass I thought I had lost and gave him $50 because I felt bad. That's a pair of boots I'll never get to buy.

-Keys to an apartment I lived in about three years ago and owe several hundred dollars. (Probably due to the keys I never turned in... found 'em!)

-Bo's USB port he's been nagging me about. Why I have this in my car, I know not.

And on the upside:

-approximately $37.25 in change. That partially makes up for the parking pass fiasco.

-several billion bobbi pins.

-four lighters (I don't smoke.)

-one cigarette signed by Cory Morrow (back when I did smoke).

-one full bottle of Dawn dishwashing liquid.

I'm not gonna lie, I had hoped to find a cell phone or two, namely a red flip phone, but it didn't pan out.

Step two: buy a new car.

Redbox is only okay.

The first time I used a Redbox, somehow I screwed up the most incredibly simplest process of renting and returning movies...wait a second, just realized my Hamiltonians might not know what a Redbox is...

Redbox, in case you don't have one in your thriving metropolitan, is a red looking box shaped thing in front of your local McDonald's or 7-11, where you can rent movies, new and old, for like a dollar and eight cents, for one night, and then one dollar for each night you have it out. It's perfect for wine and cheese nights alone at home when you know you're going to watch the movie and return it the next day. It's not so perfect when you forget about the movie and it gets buried under sweatshirts and P.Terry's cups in the back seat of your car.

Anyway, the first time I used the box, I was elated. I always have a good time by myself, especially when I pick what we (me and wine) get to watch. So, whatever sappy movie we watched, I returned on time the next day. This is almost unfathomable. I am not so great at deadlines. When I get to the Redbox, I am on the way to work and kind of in a hurry. Hit screen, follow directions, not too hard. A cinderblock could do this. But at time to return disk into box, things go a little awry. The box doesn't seem to want to take my movie back. Hurried Brynnan forcefully shoves DVD in anyway and goes about her business.

Few days later, checking bank account online, Redbox charges galore. Why I don't mind a few extra dollars on my account now, what is this going to be like later on down the road. Obviously, the box doesn't realize it has my movie; this could get bad. Thinking back on the event of return, I wonder: what the hell did I do wrong?

Ask roommate: I returned this movie the other day, I wonder why they are still charging me?

Roomie: Are you sure you returned it? Maybe you just thought you did. It's probably in your back seat. Did you follow the directions correctly?

Me: Of course I did. Wait, what directions?

Roomie: Well, you have to return it a certain way. There's a big arrow on one side of the disk where you insert it in the box.

Me: Oh.

So, come to find out, if you shove in the DVD on the side that DOESN'T have a huge arrow on it, the Redbox does not realize you have returned your movie. I guess the thing thinks you just came along and forced a square like object in it for funzies.

I feel like a cinderblock. And had to call Redbox and explain to them that I cannot follow instructions and hope that they feel remorse for me and my disability. The guy was really nice and said they had since accounted for my movie and the charges would stop, plus he reimbursed me my three dollars. I felt silly.

And while I have since learned the in's and out's of the Redbox, there has finally come a time when I have fulfilled my own destiny as a procrastinator and rented a shit movie which I have tried to watch eighteen times but stopped each time, and while I didn't want to return the movie without finishing it, now I am out I don't know how much money because of this dumb DVD.

One of these days, I'm going to return the movie and another one of these days, I'm going to use the Redbox again. I don't let my own stupidity get in the way of a good thing.

How many times can you type "Redbox" in one blog? Eleven.

Redbox.

(New post a couple posts down, it got out of order. Don't miss it! It's about dating!)