The humiliation continues...

Kristen and I normally have fun when we visit each other's homes. Oh, sure, there's the occasional argument over who won Connect Four, or who's right about so-and-so starring in such-and-such movie. Generally mundane interruptions in the funness. Until Saturday night.

Friday evening Kristen arrived while I was still working in the library. She brought in my (early) birthday presents. I received an assortment of pink-themed goodies, including a sweet book bag that Kristen had bought and decorated herself. It says "Word Nerd" on it with a fancy border. It's tied for first place with one other present...the blue and black crossbones Airwalk shoes I'd desperately wanted and couldn't find!! Woohoo! We then ate Chinese at Mandarin restaurant in Rice Lake. Pretty tasty stuff. Except I saw Cara's ex-boyfriend and I wanted to puke. But then we rented some scary movies (to be watched Sat. evening), and then went home. We had ice cream. And I watched my very first episode of The Gilmore Girls.

Saturday we were up bright and early to attend a craft fair taking place at my old high school. We didn't buy anything, and the high school had been remodeled, so it looked absolutely nothing like my memories. Kristen was also insulted by a vendor. But I'll let her tell that story on her own blog.

Next we drove down to Eau Claire to meet Jolene at our favorite place, The Olive Garden. I had the chicken alfredo, in case you're interested. After lunch, we drove over to Oakwood Mall and roamed around. The girls each bought a chocolate fondu set. Jolene went home, and Kristen and I roamed around Borders, wanting to buy books but lacking the money.

So then we went to my mom's house to watch the scary movies we'd rented. Mom was going to make tacos and desserts. But Amanda had already taken off with friends of hers, saying she'd be back soon. She never did show up, until apparently Sunday morning. Well, Mom, Kristen, and I started watching the scary movies and eating our treats. After the second movie, my brother and his girlfriend, Nikki, started arguing upstairs. They were screaming at each other. Nikki took off out of the house to go somewhere else. Aaron followed her, and they stood screaming at each other on the street. Surprised no one called the cops. Then Nikki came barging back in the house to tell Mom that Aaron was keeping guns in the house, and she described where they were being kept. (Upon searching, no guns were found, but I digress.) Nikki and Aaron went outside again, still hollering. Kristen informed me that she was leaving. I didn't blame her. But I didn't want to leave my mom and Jersey. So Kristen drove back to my grandparents' house (after remembering to grab her chocolate fondu set, of course), and I stayed to make sure things were going to calm down. I finally got Jersey to fall asleep and put her to bed. Aaron came home alone. Nikki walked to a friend's house. I got to leave (around 20-25 minutes after K left), and got home to find my grandma worried, my grandpa wondering if I'd brought home the ice cream (true story), and Kristen in tears.

Worst. Night. Ever.

People never truly understand another person's dysfunctional family, and usually that's fine. I was quite content with my closest friends not being a witness to the Cops worthy freakshow that is my family. But no. It was so humiliating for not only a friend to bear witness to the drama, but to have her frightened of it.

I would have bribed her with ice cream to not hold the experience (and psycho family) against me, but I'd forgotten it at the hell-house. And I was too busy walking as fast as I could in the dark streets and watching for attackers to remember the strawberry swirled goodness. Fortunately, I didn't need to bribe her because she is such a dear friend. And I hope she will not be scarred for the rest of her life.

I tossed and turned all night. I had nightmares about walking at night and fighting and worrying.

But today we tried to ignore the images of last night and had a nice lunch in Rice Lake. We roamed around stores, where I didn't buy anything. She bought herself two sweaters and a pair of pajama pants that highlighted her crotch and buttcrack. Pretty damn funny. And then off she went, driving home in the rain.

And now I'm off to wallow in the hazard wasteland that is my life.

The Legend of Zero

Nicole asked for awkward high school moments. And only because she is my friend, I will comply. But I must say, I hated high school. Hated.

1) There was a boy named Jake (H.) who I think had a crush on me. This was 9th grade. He'd always hang around me, once "accidentally" touched my boobs, and would stare at me. Finally, one day in science class, he put his hand on my knee. I angrily yelled, "Stop touching me!" and kicked him in the shin. That was the last time he ever spoke to me. *deeply embarrassed*

2) A guy named Kent. Ugh. Senior year in our criminalistics class, he would harrass me non-stop. Nicole and friend Christie would try to get him to leave me alone. One day we got into a highlighter fight. Which means he started coloring on my arm with a yellow highlighter, so I colored him back with green highlighter on his neck. So then he acts all angry and literally backs me into a corner. I panicked and kicked him in the shin. Hmm...sensing a pattern. I also had a huge crush on his best friend, also in the class, and he yelled at Kent to leave me alone. So did everyone else in the class, then Nic yelled, "You act like you're in elementary school...like the boy likes the girl so he hits her." Then Kent said something like, "Exactly." There was a silence in the room as we each deciphered his reaction. Then his face turned red and shouted, "No, I don't like her!" That was humiliating.

3) Oh, and this one smarts. Had a huge crush on a boy named Matt, who was a year older than me and was my next-door neighbor. There were many awkward moments around him (including when I saw his naked rump when he got out of the shower...although, he was the one who mooned me, so I shouldn't be embarrassed), but I'll choose just one. In chemistry, some senior walked in with extremely messy hair. He'd deliberately mussed it as much as he could, like he thought it would be hilarious. So Matt did the same to his hair. I ignored him like a good little schoolgirl, and continued to concentrate on whatever experiment we were conducting. But I could hear Matt still talking about his flipped out hair, and then he said, "Hey, Amber, do that to your hair." I kept work. "Hey, Amber." Still working. "HEY! Amber! Do that to your hair!" I finally looked up to see what all the shouting was about, and wondered what Amber was in our class. Yeah. Not only was he talking to me because I have such thick, curly hair, but he'd been shouting at me the whole time, not knowing my name, and the entire class had been watching me. Finally some other upper classman goes, "Dude, that's not even her name. It's April." Matt shrugged and turned away. (One more...in a different class, he also called my hair a brillo pad. Oh, the shame...)

Okay, enough. I can't deal with any more high school stories. There are probably worse that I dare not tell. *sigh*

To stave off depression, here is a list of Smartass, Funny Boys Who I'd Make Out With.
1) Jason Schwartzman
2) Mo Rocca
3) Zach Braff
4) Jason Segel
5) Topher Grace

And now out of nowhere, I talk about David Copperfield--as if by magic!

{Currently reading "My Sister From the Black Lagoon," by Laurie Fox.}

Apparently I'm into books about depression. I didn't even think about it when I picked up this book and the one before, "Girl, Interrupted." Hmm.

Yesterday at the CA library, I had to call up patrons who'd had their requested InterLibrary Loan items come in. On one call, a guy answered, and he sounded exactly like He Who Must Not Be Named. I almost dropped the phone. I kept looking at the name of the person I was supposed to be calling, like I thought maybe I'd unconsciously called his number. It depressed me.

And today at the CH library, my big fat stalker's brother came in. They're twins, so vicariously I hate him, too. He went to sit at a computer, and I suddenly had a vision of him coming up and touching me. Not even 30 seconds later, he was behind me touching my arm. I barely managed not to turn around swinging. He goes, "My computer's frozen." Well, duh, restart it. Any idiot knows that much. And besides, why'd he have to come to me, when I had my back to everyone working? There were two other librarians facing the counter and not doing anything! Ugh. I sighed deeply and decided to go to another room before kneeing anyone's groin.

Which leads me to a list for your enjoyment of my Most Awkward Moments With Boys, excluding situations involving crazies.

6) This one wasn't so much awkward as me being on the verge of committing homicide. I screamed at a guy in class. I hated him so much, and how fricken stupid he was, that I literally screamed at him in class...in college...with about 20 other people around us. But, in my defense, everyone else hated him, too, and were quite amused that I put him in his place.

5) Set up on a blind date with a guy named Justin. Within 2 seconds, I knew he was gay. I tried to remain jolly, but couldn't contain my resentment for the friend who set us up when Justin began singing every Madonna song he could think of.

4) In college, I was invited to my crush's graduation party, which was at his parents cabin out on a lake. Crush was tall, blonde, athletic, very hot. I was boggled by the invitation, but we were friends. Long before the evening was over, said crush got semi-naked 3 times, and fully naked twice! Seeing him on campus the following Monday, I...er...didn't know where to look.

3) My first kiss, at the tender age of 20 (yes, you read that correctly), was marred slightly by my sudden embarrassing bout of the giggles. 20 years old, people, and I giggled like a 12-year old at her first make-out party, which by the way, I've still never been to.

2) Once while house-sitting for a friend, one of her guy friends decided to come visit me at midnight. He didn't leave until like 4 a.m. Very annoyed. And, I don't even remember how this happened, but at one point, he had me cowering in a corner as he tried to get me to look at his nipples. No joke. My sister was there and can verify my story.

And now for the grand finale:

1) Three words. "Ice, Ice, Baby." No lie. On a date with a boy, joking around about Vanilla Ice, this guy didn't just stop at the first verse, but rapped the entire song. Needless to say, there wasn't a second date. Although I did run into him once at a comedy club, and he tried to stare me down. Thankfully, I was with a huge group of friends so I could pretend I was dating one of the guys.

Beat that.

One-way ticket to Blahville.

My mom has to go to the hospital for more extensive testing. So we're still not quite sure what her Lemony Snicket is, though I'm leaning towards a cyst on her ovary. The doc said it could also have to do with her bladder. Anyway, she doesn't go in until, I think, Monday. Will keep you updated.

Apparently the director of CA library may be having surgery soon, too, so I may have to work over here a lot more in the coming weeks. At least it'll get me away from the grouchy woman at the CH library.

Well, gotta jet home to watch "The Biggest Loser!" Hope it doesn't conflict with "I Love the 80s: 3D." Yes, this is my life. *whining* I want to have a crush on a boy!!!

Stay classy, San Diego!

{Currently reading "Girl, Interrupted," by Susanna Kaysen.}

My mom got a new car the other day. And by new, I mean old, but new to her. I don't know what year it is, but it's a deep-red colored Chrysler LeBaron. It's totally an old person's car, but it has heat and we live in Wisconsin, so that's all that matters. Anyway, Amanda and I were teasing Mom about her car, when Amanda asked what Mom was going to name it. Then before Mom said anything, Manda goes, "Name it Ron Burgandy!" (Will Farrell's character in "Anchorman.") So freaking funny. Jealous that I didn't think of it first.

I've also been nagging at my mom for about 2 months now to go to a doctor because she's been having pains in her lower abdomen. She admitted only a month ago that she has a lump there about the size of a lemon. She jokes around and calls it her Lemony Snicket (which is kinda funny), but I just get so mad at her about it. I told my grandpa (her dad) about it, because I knew he'd make her get to a doctor. So she finally agreed to make an appointment today, so I'll let you know what happens. And if you're wondering why she didn't go earlier, it's because she thinks she can't afford any more bills. :(

I talked to Kristen last night on the phone. I need her mom to do some sewing for me. I had bought a matching valance that coordinates with the bedding set I put on layaway. In the middle of the valance is a cute little box pleat, but it's sewn so that you can't even get the curtain rod all the way through! I thought maybe there was a defect, so I returned to Kmart and exchanged it for a new one, but it's the same thing! I need Kristen's mom to rip out the seams and re-sew it. I'd ask my grandma, but more and more she forgets things that used to be second nature to her.

Kristen also mentioned that when she comes to visit this coming weekend, she's bringing my birthday present (even though it's not 'til next month). She wanted me to guess at first (because Kristen doesn't like to keep surprises).
Kristen: I got you something that you really wanted for your birthday.
April: Mmm... Joaquin Phoenix?
Kristen: No, but close!
April: Er....you didn't purchase it in an adult store, did you?

So, I still don't know what it is, but she swears I'll never want to take it off, won't make me look fat(ter), and the theme is pink rocker. But not Pink, aka Alicia "Let's Get the Party Started" Moore.

And finally, two poems that I found and liked. The first one is kinda cheesy, and I've never heard of its author, but it was cute. The second one is just two verses of a poem from a book of poetry by Arthur Rimbaud, and I think it's hot.

Inscriptions of a Lipstick
Oh, innocent victims of Cupid,
Remember this terse little verse;
To let a fool kiss you is stupid,
To let a kiss fool you is worse.
~E.Y. Harburg

(I forgot the title of this poem...oops!)
.....
I'd whisper into your mouth,
Put you to bed,
Your body curled like a baby's,
Drunk on the blood

That flows, blue, beneath the softness
Of skin like snow;
Whispering about those shameless
Things... You know...
~Arthur Rimbaud (meow!)

Mr. Furious: After all, I am a ticking time bomb of fury.

Let me tell you a story, boys and girls, about a nice girl working in an evil place.

At the beginning of 2005, I started working full time at the newspaper in Rice Lake as the circulations assistant. I was immediately overwhelmed, but I kept at it because I felt guilty that I was given the chance to work there full time. I had more responsibilities than I had ever imagined possible. I was not only a back-up for the receptionist and responsible for customer service and telephones, but I was also in charge of all newspaper subscriptions and customer accounts, taking ads over the phone, running about 5 computer programs, payroll for carriers, mailing labels for all people who had their papers mailed to them, assisting bundling of papers on publication day, and smoothing over all complaints related to subscriptions, plus whatever complaints came in by phone or at the counter. Busy, right? Oh, that's not all, my friends.

I also had to measure each advertisement in the paper, create postal reports, price every ad in the paper, compare prices against copy, mail out "thank you for renewing your subscription" freebies, stuff envelopes for billing at the first of the month, color code mailing labels, attach tearsheets to invoices, file... And then, after I finally started to get the barest grasp on that, then I had to learn two more computer programs--typing in all the classified ads, posting them to two programs, print them for proofing, make corrections, re-post the ads, print again, and then cut and paste them onto giant paper. I ended up only doing the latter a couple of times.

I complained to the publisher and one of my supervisors that I was overwhelmed. I was working roughly 60 hours/wk, taking home work to finish it... I was exhausted. Barely any sleep. Depressed. And the headaches! Oh, God. I think I can safely say without exaggeration that I'd go through about one bottle of Excedrine a week.

Did they help me out? Oh, they sure thought so. They took away my filing duties, which normally took me about an hour, including attaching the tearsheets. They gave the filing to the receptionist. In return, they took away one of her "little" duties to give to me. So instead of an hour of filing, I ended up getting her duty of calling back all the people whose classified ads had ended that week to see if they wanted to rerun the ad or start a new one. An added 5-6 hours a week. What a big help.

I tried it. I honestly did. I did my best. But I was miserable. An in addition, my female supervisor, Mary Kay, talked down to me. She treated me like I was stupid and she gossiped more than any person I've ever met. So I made another complaint about how overwhelmed I was.

Within the week, I was hauled into the office and Mary Kay said, "You have a lot more to learn, so if you can't handle it, you'd better let me know now so I can hire someone else." Then the publisher tried to soothe me by saying, "We've been really impressed and grateful for all of your hard work." But the bottom line was, I had to suck it up and do it all or leave. And they specifically said that hiring another person for a few hours a week to come in and help with things was out of the question. Oh, and I should mention that there used to be another person whose whole job was taking care of those classified ads! But, since I couldn't get any help, I felt my only option was to leave. I put in my notice, stuck around 6 more weeks for them to advertise, interview, and finally hire a new person for my position. I was told my last week that I wouldn't have to do anything but catch up on old work, and my two supervisors would train the new person. But of course they didn't. That was left to me to do, also.

I made it a full 5 months there. And now, ladies and gentleman, 5 full months after I've left, there is a new ad in the paper. A posting that there is an immediate opening for a part-time office assistant to help with computer programs and customer service.

Gee. I wonder what that means. Oh, wait! I know! The woman who took my position hasn't been able to miraculously to the job better than me, either, and she also needs some help. But gosh, I thought they said that hiring a little helper was out of the question.

I was so pissed when I saw that ad. I can't even begin to tell you how angry I was. If my grandparents hadn't been there, the walls would have been blushing because of my foul mouth. I went up to my room and was literally shaking with anger. I could have cried. I was absolutely miserable because of all I'd had to put up with there. I was forced to leave. I was unemployed for the entire summer, without compensation because apparently the only reason I could get unemployment pay is if I had been counseled to leave by a physician.

I can't even say anymore. I'm so, so, so angry.

Read on if you're bored. But don't expect to be entertained.

Blood-shot eyes. I look like a drunk.

My uterus (or whatever it is that I hurt yesterday) kept me in pain all last night. Every time I turned in bed, I felt a combination of cramping and stabbing. I'm mostly fine today, excluding the red eyes from a lack of sleep. But at least they match the red jacket I'm wearing. I totally know how to coordinate.

Why do so many creepy guys come to the library?? Can't they just have their own little clubhouse or something, where they can just creep out and annoy each other? This one guy always comes in to use the computers (of course), and every 2 seconds he's picking his nose. I'm not exaggerating. He's at warp speed doing it, too. And you know, a guy who isn't shy about picking his nose in public isn't too shy to eat the fruits of his labors in public. *barf*

Well, now that I've grossed out all my faithful readers... heh heh

I was going to try out that Special K diet starting today. You know "2 bowls of Special K + 1 regular meal a day + 2 weeks = 1 pants size!" Sounds good, right? I tell you, I was SO going to start that today. But then I slept too late because I was extra tired from not sleeping well, and then I noticed that there were burritoes in the freezer.... It was a hard call. But someone has to eat the burritoes, and it's not going to be my grandparents. So there you go. I ate the burritoes. Guilty as charged.

Yes, another post. Deal with it.

Okay, I saw this on my friend Nicole's blog. Since hers turned out funny, and I'm sitting next to a bookshelf, thought I'd try this, too.

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fourth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don't search around and look for the "coolest" book you can find. Do what's actually next to you.

Okay, here's mine.
"In cash? Come on, lady..." --Criminal Intent, by William Bernhardt

P.S.

I think I just strained my uterus. Oh, the pain. I've been hobbling for the last half hour. Hobbling! Which makes me think of medieval times, when old cronies in drab clothing and witchy hair creaked along cobbled streets filled with garbage and human waste. Is this what I've become? One month before my birthday? Will I soon be speaking lines of "When I was your age...?"

Word Nerd

For lack of any fun stories or exciting news, I thought I'd write my "To Read" list. I'm always looking for a few good books. I've requested a couple of them already, but I'd welcome any suggestions.

* My Sister From the Black Lagoon, by Laurie Fox
* Boy Still Missing, by John Searles
* The Known World, by Edward P. Jones
* Will They Ever Trust Us Again, by Michael Moore
* The Drowning Tree, by Carol Goodman
* A Separate Peace, by John Knowles
* The Crimes and Punishments of Miss Payne, by Barry Jansberg
* Shoot the Moon, by Billie Letts
* The Ice Queen, by Alice Hoffman (LOVE her books!!)
* Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro

Yesterday at the CH library, I was trying to suggest some books for a patron to read. She said she only reads mysteries, and they can't be spooky or gory. Also, they couldn't take place in England. "What?" I asked. "Why not?" She goes, "Because they're all like, 'Oh, you know, uh, I'm English. Oh, looky. I'm in England.'" I was startled into laughter. It was so ridiculously funny. Then as I was suggesting Haunted Ground, by Erin Hart, she worried that it was spooky. I assured her it wasn't. "It takes place in Scotland, I think," I said. "Or maybe it's Ireland." "Well," she said. "That rules that one out." It's an excellent book! What the heck is the problem? Because someone may be named Cormac or Ringo* instead of John or Billy? Give me a break.
*I've never actually read a book with a character named Ringo. I just couldn't think of anything English-y.

I like your sleeves. They're real big.

My grandpa literally made me gag last night. He poured a glass of milk, then added crumbled saltine crackers. Then spooned it out for consumption! Gross out! I almost couldn't eat chocolate later in the evening. Almost.

I'm working at the CA library right now. God save me from pre-adolescents and teenage girls. They are so freaking annoying. Every two seconds they're giggling over nothing! Ugh. Each one trying to out-giggle the other. And the boys... "Can I go on the computer? Is it my turn yet? Can I go on the computer?" I think we should ban kids from the computers. Read books or stay out of the library! *growled the grouchy semi-librarian*

I'm kinda thinking that the older woman at the CH library, the one who was off on sick leave for so long, may not last at work much longer. She's missed several of her shifts or left early from them because of "problems," she snaps at people when they try to help her, she flat-out told our director that she resents me and I should be fired (because she's back and that should be enough help), and a board member was in the library and saw the lady be rude to a customer. Everyone walks on eggshells around her. It's unfair to everyone else. And she's 78! Come on! Just retire already!

Kristen is going to come spend Halloween weekend at my house. I'm probably not going to dress up to go anywhere. I'm no longer into the bar scene. And even if I were interested, two people at a bar does not a party make. But on the 31st, Amanda and I will take Jersey around the block and to the library for trick-or-treating. She's going to be a little bumblebee. :) And Amanda wants to dress up as Napoleon Dynamite. I will definitely take pictures!!

Is this thing on?

Okay, so here's my new blog. I hope readers will like it better than my Xanga one. Xanga and I had a good run (4 years!), but I think I may have a better response here. Friends and foes alike can comment on my ramblings without having to sign up for an account.

I just finished work, thought I'd take another jab at making this blog thing work, and now I'm off to pick up a paycheck. Oh, lovely paycheck. You have such power over me.

If you are unfamiliar with my old blog and/or are interested in catching up on my past posts, feel free to go to: http://www.xanga.com/aprillynn

Guess I'll try something new, eh?

I'm kind of tired of my current blog format. I thought I'd give this one a try. But I make no promises. Fail me, blog, and you're dead in my eyes.