STFU

So this is going to be a very short post about something that has really been getting on my nerves lately.
Here's the thing people. Sometimes, you talk too much. It isn't a mystery. People don't want to be around you because all you do is ramble. And then when someone else tries to talk and you act like you can't get a word in, that's even worse. If you're ever talking and the people you are talking to just have a glazed look on their face, and you find yourself thinking, "Do I talk too much?" the answer is probably yes.
K that's all

Rock

Twin Peaks and Nostalgia: A Sunday Special

As I've discussed before, I'm currently unemployed and actively hunting for a job. Lately though, that job hunt has sort of devolved into me sitting in my living room in the middle of the day in my pajamas watching television shows from the 90s. So basically I've reverted to childhood. It seems like I should be at least mildly ashamed of this fact, but I have to admit, it's pretty fun. After I finished another riveting season of Beverly Hills 90210 I decided to take a break from the feel good, after school special-ish teen melodrama and go for something a little more, what's the right word? Let's see.......crazy. Enter Twin Peaks.

The first time I watched Twin Peaks I was thirteen or fourteen and in the eighth grade. I remember riding my bike to rent the series on VHS from Blockbuster. I was immediately enamored with Kyle MacLachlan as FBI Agent Dale Cooper. Luckily, I hadn't yet seen him as Trey MacDougal in Sex and the City. Agent Dale Cooper is the reason I started drinking coffee. Black as the sky on a moonless night, of course. He's also my favorite character in a TV show, ever. I spent a good portion of my paper route paycheck on Twin Peaks and let me tell you, it was worth every penny. No television show I've watched since has ever made me laugh so hard while simultaneously giving me terrifying nightmares. It wasn't really scary, but I was young and stupid and had watched more than a few episodes while under the influence of an illicit substance.

Thanks to the advent of Netflix, I'm getting to enjoy Twin Peaks all over again at a much more reasonable price and with absolutely zero bike riding involved. I have to say, it is so much better this time around. Maybe only because I now possess the mental capacity to appreciate the parody element of it or maybe because I'm not a ridiculous teenager anymore. Either way, I love every single aspect of this show and I think everyone owes it to themselves to watch it all the way through at least once in their lifetimes. Something this weird and great could have only come from the 90s and I miss the days when a show like Twin Peaks could get top ratings.

Stone

(How do you like the title of this post? I'm pretty proud of that one. It really paved the way for me to write something really funny and just generally great. Guess I failed there, huh? Let's just think of it as a metaphor for my failing job search: looks great from the outside; not a lot happening once you get into it.)

Sometimes The USPS Controls My Life. Jerks.

You know those days where you go about your regular every day routine and you come home from a lovely jaunt in the park only to find you've missed a delivery? That happens to me often. In fact, that happened to me yesterday. I hate when that happens only because of the anxiety producing waiting around that must come next.

Usually when I miss a package, I get real excited about going online and filling out the re-delivery request because it makes me feel like I'm in control again. Sometimes, I feel like my life is a constant power struggle between me and the postal service. Lately though, I've realized that I end up wasting an entire day literally doing nothing while I wait for the mail lady who has recently become one of my closest friends as I miss a package just about once a week these days. She's a little bit insane, but nice and totally gets that I have a really busy walk-in-the-park-and-hang-out-at-Barnes-and-Noble schedule so she doesn't mind doubling back to my apartment every few days.

I missed a package yesterday and proceeded to dutifully fill out the online demand for them to come back today. This means that I've been sitting in my apartment afraid to shower, use the bathroom, play music, or get too involved doing the dishes. A walk outdoors or trip to Barnes and Noble is absolutely out of the question. I'm convinced that the second I do any of these things, I'll miss Semi-Insane Mail Lady again. She offers a quiet tolerance of my antics, but I'm pretty sure she has the power to stop delivering my packages with any sort of timeliness if I continue to miss her and then fill out the online form an hour later. So as of right now, I really have to pee and wish I had just mustered up the energy to shower last night. I think it's safe to say the postal service is winning this power struggle.

Stone