Fish for Dinner

"Vegetarian Inmate Says He Was Told Fish Isn't Meat"

So there are a few things I find questionable about this news story. Number one. Fish is meat, in my opinion. Another thing is that I believe everyone is entitled to eat what they want, when they want (within reason, those bath salt crazy face eating people is simply vile). I'm a vegetarian but if I want to eat salmon one night to shape up my omega intake then so be it. I will do just that. It's unlikely I will but the fact is that I can. If you want to get technical then my vegetarianism would change to make me a pescatarian. BUT WHO NEEDS LABELS ANYWAY? Yeah right, our society eats labels up for breakfast. That's a different story though.

This man, whose yellin' about getting served fish in prison when all he wants is some good old fashion fruits, veggies, whole grains and starch, expects to get special treatment for his diet? Hells no. You're in prison. It's not even like you have a health condition, which would make his request far more reasonable. The fact that the prison administration or cook or whatever even work around your desire to not eat meat is kind of a shocker to me. I understand it's important for them to respect his religious beliefs of "practicing" Buddhism, but come on, he's in prison for twenty years due to sexual assault, which isn't exactly practicing Buddhism either.

Furthermore;; Just some pictures from a day in the life of an ACTIVELY SEEKING unemployed young adult.

Blackout curtains: When sleep time can be anytime.

Vincent: The only family member who is getting more sleep than me.

Tub of Cookie Dough: In case things get really bad.

xx

Alice

Train. NYC. Romance. Jealous.

A week has passed and I somehow managed to make it through finals week while sleeping terribly.  It's not like I was stressed about tests or stayed up late/woke up early to study, it was just one of those weeks, you know?  And I continued to sleep awfully throughout the weekend, no thanks to my Saturday night in which I started drinking a little too early and Connor's band played a little too late in the night.  This equaled a decent amount of time with me nearly taking a nap curled up behind their merchandise table. Real mature, but a girl needs her beauty sleep.  Alas, the little space behind the merch table did not provide me with that because I was showing off crack whore type bags under my eyes the whole rest of the weekend.  I'm not worried though because it's Christmas break and I don't go back to school for a month.

A little update on my recently acquired temporary holiday job:  I quit. After the first day.  I'm brash.  Maybe too impulsive but I guess I know when something isn't for me.  I literally don't know why I thought I was desperate enough to take a job that I always said I wasn't going to take, aka, a job in retail or attempting to sell things.  I despise those times in stores when you can't get across to the cashier that you do not want to open a credit card.  I don't care if I'll save 10% if I spend $650 dollars.  I know I won't read the fine print and end up owing 7 times the amount of money I even charge on this credit card.  My mom would be so furious if my credit score was less than perfect, and yes, I do still care if I make my mom upset because she still let's me eat all the food we have at our house. She may be my parent, but she technically could cut me off any time she wants.  She wouldn't, but she could.  I respect that.
  Furthermore, I don't particularly enjoy when workers come up to me and ask if I need help.  I know that's supposed to be polite and stuff, but if I need help I'll just ask.  I suppose some people are a little shy and it's easier to respond to a question than initiate the question, but that's not me.  So having to do that to other people just isn't conducive to me being in a happy state of mind.  I didn't want to spend my last college holiday break doing that.  We'll see how long it takes until I get painfully bored of not working and try and get some hours at the coffee shop (my summer employment).

In other news not about me, Tom is currently in New York City visiting his girlfriend, Jess.  They are one of my favorite couples.  I'm not being biased because one is my sibling and the other one is beautiful.  But they speak in Russian accents together and look like they stepped out of the 60's.  And so Tom took a train alone (ROMANTIC.) to the city to visit her for a week and then he's bringing her back on a train (ROMANTIC, but a little less romantic because they're together and for some reason love seems more romantic when one is pining or longing to reach the other one.  Funny how that works, yeah?).

I texted him a few times during his journey making jokes about going to Hogwarts (because he's on a train).  They weren't that funny because Tom didn't read the Harry Potter series, he's a LOTR man.  And I only have read 3 and 1/2 of the books so technically I wasn't justified in making the jokes at all.

Thoughts and prayers to those in Newtown.  It makes me feel sick to talk about it, but it feels too wrong to not acknowledge it.
xxxx
A

It's a Miracle I Get to Sleep At All

Sometimes I am shocked with how lazy I can be when it comes to doing things for myself.  I suppose this is better than if I was lazy when it came to other people, but still you'd think you'd want to treat yourself better than anyone else.  At least, that's a little glimpse into the mind of a conceited person.  So  I have some weird habits when it comes to my bedtime routine, or just how I sleep in general.  First off, if I don't wash my face before I get into bed I will immediately sleep more restlessly.  My subconscious must remind me constantly throughout my slumber how dirty my face is, which is then getting onto my pillow, and staying on my pillow for a long time because Lord knows I don't wash my pillowcase as often as I should.  My concerns for becoming germaphobic someday are justified, I'm telling you.  Furthermore, if I don't use my Neutrogena face wash to wash my face I feel less than adequate with my wash job.  This has got to do more with me being weird and "not liking to change a good thing" than it does with the actual product.  I've used it since middle school, which is a time when washing your face was actually considered a cool thing to do.  I remember seeing the pretty, popular girls washing their face with a bright bottle of soap after gym class, which is weird because those were the girls who would just stand there with the hand on hip (this does not cause any sweating on your face) making fun of the girls who were far too competitive and involved in every activity (aka. Me and my two best friends).

It's funny because I specifically recall conversations with girls at sleepovers discussing which face wash they use.

"Oh, you use Clean & Clear?  Doesn't that dry out your skin?" 

"Clearasil?  What, do you get blackheads or something?  Ew..." 

"Oh my God, I just love Neutrogena. It's perfect for my skin type." 

"You struggle with acne?  You should totally get Pro-Activ.  Jessica Simpson uses it!"

One year I even put Pro-Activ on my Christmas list.  I didn't even have acne...  I just thought it would be cool to use it and I JUST WANTED IT, MOM.
Anyways, I got Neutrogena in my stocking instead and I've been using it ever since.  Granted, I've had pretty healthy looking skin since then so it must be working well for my skin type.  So not only do I need that to sleep better I also can't have socks on, which is so difficult to deal with on a cold night.  If I fall asleep in socks I wake up two hours later, massively overheating.  Then it takes another 30 minutes, at least, to fall back asleep.  Thus, I try to just fall asleep with cold feet.  Couldn't do it last night, but my laziness kicked in because my dresser is not in reaching distance and God forbid I get up so I just laid there deciding my next move.  I pulled off my pajama pants and wrapped them around my feet.  I'm not kidding.  This presents my issue with not being able to fall asleep with my bare legs touching each other.  When I sleep in my underwear I have to either A) spread my legs apart or B) stick something between them.  USUALLY MY SHEET OR BLANKET PEOPLE, RELAX.  It's just a weird issue I have, it's fine if someone elses leg is touching mine, but it can't be my own.  Actually, the only person whose leg I hope is ever grazing me in my sleep is Connor.  Otherwise everything is just getting strange.
Oh my God I did wake up with someone else in a bed with me this year who I didn't know once.  That story will be saved for a later time and it's not nearly as wild as it sounds, only as unsettling as it sounds.

xxxx
A

My Horn Makes Me Giggle

UGH CAR TROUBLES.   So frustrating.  You know what would be even more frustrating?  If I actually had to pay for anything besides filling the gas tank.  Whatever, I'm young by today's standards.  And, Dad, if I had the money for car repairs, I'd lie and say I didn't.  Just kidding.  I would step up to the plate and pay it myself.  I hope I'm not jinxing myself because the '99 Corolla they have me drive around in doesn't currently need a repair, it's just having a very awkward and POTENTIALLY dangerous issue.  Of course, leave it to my vehicle to possess an issue that makes people think I'm weird.  It unlocks itself incessantly.  At first, I literally thought it was a conspiracy issue and some mean people playing a joke.  I locked my car and started walking away when it did the double-beep as if I unlocked it.  I walked back to my car and it was, indeed, unlocked.  What the fuhhhh.  I proceeded to lock it manually using the key and started strolling away and it double beeped 15 seconds later.  Mind you, my cars beep is a polite chirp and unmistakably mine.  (I had a couple instances this fall with Genna driving with me and cars in front of me have started reversing almost straight back into me.  Cue mad honking.  My honk sounds like a greeting at a tea party.  Like I'm saying "Hi, it's nice to see you Jeep Liberty!  Don't worry, it'll be ok if you reverse into the front of my vehicle."  I think me screaming out my car window is 100% more efficient than beeping my horn.)  I then heard people laughing in the distance and somehow rationalized the fact they had a little machine bought off the black market that can automatically unlock old cars.  So of course I pretended I didn't care that my car was unlocked and casually walked into my apartment complex.  It wasn't the fact that my car was unlocked that was the issue, the most valuable thing that they could take is my $22 TJ Maxx sunglasses or my Poverty & Welfare book.  Not exactly worried.  What worried me, in that moment, is that people cared enough to mess around with my little car.

Looking back jumping to the black market product conspiracy was a little much, my imagination can go a little wild sometimes.  So then I believed it was haunted.  This lasted for a few minutes.  I went to Google and wasn't really successful because most said to take it into the mechanic, and I'm not doing that.  It's driving fine and remains locked while driving, which I think is the most important because that means random pedestrians can't just jump into the passenger seat whenever they please.  I hear that happens sometimes.  Ask Genna.
I'm going to change the battery on my car lock/unlock/push button thingy (?) because maybe it's like a fire alarm and chirps the car whenever the battery is low.
Please give me an A+ for these multiple rationalizations for my car problems.

Time for the Presidential debate that rudely took up the space of New Girl.  Grr.  Well, we all know the debate will be just as, if not more, entertaining and at times awkward (seriously when they blatantly ignore and speak over the mediator I cringe and just feel uncomfortable).

Best Text I Received Today: From Connor at 7:51am "When sharing the bed with someone who has sleeping trouble the partner loses an average of 49 minutes of sleep a night.  Just heard it on the radio." 

AKA:  Ali this means you should willingly offer to sleep on the couch every night because it's now clearly proven you're contributing to my lack of alertness and energy throughout every day.  

Nah.  You'll be ok.  
xxxx
A