Vacation 2012 - Day 1: From Good to WTF is Going on in Asheville?

Earlier this year, my mother, my sister, a friend and myself decided to take a vacation. We planned to go to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, where my mother has a time share. It's a sweet two bedroom condo in a woodsy area that is less than a 10 minute walk from the beach. My mother is not much of a fan of flying, so we planned to drive down. We figured that a one night stopover (demanded by my mother), coupled with the fact there were three people to do the driving - it would be a breeze. It's October and the leaves would all be changing, and the weather was expected to be nice, so it would be a nice scenic drive.

It all started off without a hitch. Indiana, Kentucky and Tennessee were a breeze. There was much silliness, snacking and snoozing.We got to Knoxville, and although it wasn't late, it was getting dark. I could not see the point of stopping just because it was dark...I mean...really?  I said that I was fine driving the mountains at night (much to my mother's horror) and that I thought we should just go to Asheville, NC which is about an hour out of the mountains. There was much debate, but my mother caved, so we kept driving. What a freaking mistake.  I mean, I was fine in the mountains and the only thing that made me nervous was my mother's white-knuckling it the whole time. Anyway, we get out of the mountains and get to Asheville and start looking for a hotel. It was about 9pm -  a good time to stop as far as I was concerned.

Sweet fucking baby carrots..... We could not find a room to save our lives!!! Every hotel in Asheville, NC was booked. A hotel clerk finally told us to not bother going anywhere in the city because we wouldn't find anything. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. He said to go about 25-30 miles down the highway to the next town to see if they had a room. We get to Hendersonville, NC, and as in Asheville, there were NO OPEN ROOMS!!!! By this time, everyone was starting to get irritated. We all want to know WTF is going on in Asheville that you cannot find a hotel room in the middle of October within 100 miles of the place.  It was about 10:30-10:45 by this time.

EWWWWWW!!!

We get back on the road and get to Spartanburg,South Carolina. We give a hotel a call and CAN YOU FREAKING BELIEVE there's an open room!!! We stop at a gas station to get directions and the clerk told my friend You don't wanna go there! They got bedbugs!!  That's all my mother needed to hear. She was completely freaked out. She refused to go there and made us all get back on the road after we stop at a McDonald's since it had been 12 hours since we ate and everyone was all pissy with each other.

Where in the Blue Hell am I????

We get back on the road and end up in Newberry, South Carolina (aka - Bumblefvck, USA) and finally find a freaking room. At this point we are only 280 miles from Myrtle Beach, but we were so tired and crabby, it didn't matter AND we couldn't check into our room until 3pm anyway....

Stupid Homecoming....

We ask the clerk why every hotel room within a 100 mile radius of Asheville, NC was booked, and she said that it was homecoming. WHAT?? Seriously??? Fucking homecoming at the colleges books up every known room in the state of North Carolina and part of the state of South Carolina??? You must be joking!!!

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Needless to say, we made it to Myrtle Beach without further incident as well as without killing each other. Now, if I can just unwind enough to enjoy myself.....

WTF? It’s Already Christmas???

Jeeeeze….it’s Christmas already. WTF happened to the year? As I get older, it feels like I move closer and closer to the inside track of time. Everything goes by so fast, and I never really see any of it until I look back. Even then, I don’t really recognize much of it. Usually I can muster up a little holiday spirit, which is no small feat for a cynic such as me. I refuse to wear silly holiday clothing, silly Santa hats and the like, but I usually like to decorate a bit, play my Brian Setzer Christmas CD ad nauseam and

Unfortunately, I haven’t had a whole lot of luck getting festive this year. I have pushed off as many holiday duties on to my sister as possible. I owe her…big time.  The most I have accomplished is the smallest amount of decorating and all of the baking. That’s it. I have been a half-ass present buyer – forget cool wrapping - and not into the holiday party thing at all. It just doesn’t feel like Christmas. What can I say? I’m a friggin’ Grinch this year.

Most of the year was spent unemployed and worried that I was never going to find a job. I didn’t let it stop me from going on a cruise to celebrate two friends’ wedding, but it was there in the back of my mind. I was still trying to process my sister’s passing a year earlier. It was a slow process, but it was getting easier.  My father’s death in the late Spring, however, was a total shock and completely took the wind out of my proverbial sails. Even though I eventually jumped back into the world of the gainfully employed, there wasn’t a job in the world that was going to raise my spirits. Getting used to life without my dad around has been an exercise in futility.

Now, as I come face to face with the mother of all the holidays, I find myself thinking about what I want for Christmas. Usually, I get all greedy and can name 20 CDs I want, a few DVDs, and multiple gift cards and normally my silent wish for a new body is muttered nightly before I fall asleep. This year, I really don’t want any of the things I usually desire. This year, all I really want is to get through a year without something sad happening, and I want to move back towards the outside track of time and actually enjoy the life I’ve got. I know it sounds totally corny, but that is really my Christmas wish…well, I wouldn’t turn down the new body. The one I’ve got is a jacked up, hot effin’ mess.

WTF Are Your Pet Peeves?

What’s your pet peeve? I put that question out there, and I have to say I wasn’t too surprised at the amount of replies I received. I mean, everyone has more than a couple things that just irritate them right into a bad mood.  Some were as minor as poor grammar usage to something more serious like people abusing the system to get handicap parking placards when they are far from being disabled; however, all of them made perfect sense to a hater such as myself.

Some people have more pet peeves than others. I know I’m one of those people. Most people who know me are likely saying to themselves; Wouldn’t it be easier for you to list what DOESN’T piss you off, Diana? Pfffft….you are probably right, but where's the fun in that?  I thought about it, and there is an awful lot that I could write about, but I figured if I rambled on too long, I would just start to sound petty, so I will keep the list to the things that REALLY piss me off  down to a bare-bones minimum.

When People Use the Term “Retarded” as a Form of Mockery

This is probably my number one pet peeve. I cannot stand hearing someone say, “Quit acting so retarded.” or “That movie was totally retarded.” It makes my skin crawl and my blood boil. I have asked people whom I have heard say something like that – Have you ever been around someone who was actually retarded? Do you like making fun of people with disabilities? Usually, I get a response in the form of a stupid stare as if they have no idea what I am talking about, and the sad truth is that they usually don’t. My late sister was mentally retarded, and I find the misuse of the word a complete insult to any person with a developmental disability. I usually have to just chalk it up to unfortunate ignorance and let it go, even though I don’t think I should have to.

People Who Don’t Watch Their Kids

Seriously…there are so many people who should not be allowed to have a dog, let alone a child. I cannot count the number of times I have been at a mall, the grocery store, walking down the street – whatever – when I have seen a little Johnny or Jenny running at large. Where the hell is this kid’s parent or parents? Oh, yes…he or she is too busy chatting with friends over coffee while that child is wreaking havoc in the restaurant. He or she is far too busy bitching out a customer service rep on their cell phone in the park while their child strays dangerously close to that busy street.  If your life is so chaotic due to career or you are that fucking self-absorbed and irresponsible, for the love of all that is good, please do not have a child. I know that I cannot handle the responsibility required, nor do I possess the necessary selflessness to be a parent. That is why I have spared the public and made the conscious decision to NOT reproduce.  I guess I wish there were more people who accepted the same about themselves.

Twits Who Constantly Post Stupid Passive-Aggressive Shit Online

Let me begin by stating that I am not talking about clinical passive-aggressive personality disorder, nor am I trying to say that no one should ever act in a passive-aggressive manner. I think that it’s a defense mechanism at times, and we are all guilty of acting that way every now and then.

 I’m talking about those fools who are always making lame general statements to 400+ “friends” or “followers” that are obviously thinly veiled snarky attacks on a specific person. I know you know what I am talking about. Let me give you an example of a status that I immediately delete off my time line:

It’s times like these when I realize who my real friends are.

Or

Thanks a lot for not being there for me.

Ok….what is this person talking about?  A reader’s initial reaction is wondering if they said something out of line, or in my case, said something completely rude and insensitive. I excel at that you know. I have asked posters of this silliness what the problem is, and I always get some dumb ass vague answer like, "Oh, I was just sayin'." WHAT? WTF KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT? This is obviously pointed at a person who is not being a friend to this sad little poster. My advice? Never waste more than 5 or 10 minutes feeling sorry for yourself and then let all that stupid shit go. If you can’t or refuse to get over it, call or personally message the person who is making you all emo, tell them exactly what your problem is, hash it out, get into an argument and make nice and bypass all this never-ending ‘woe is me’ bullshit. 

People Who Cannot Seem to Respect My Personal Space

This is a big one for me. When I tell people not to touch me, I am not being cute. I am serious. I do not like being touched, breathed on or in any other way spatially violated by people. It seriously pisses me off. If someone is standing in line behind me and feels the need to basically lean up against my back, as if it is going to get them closer to the front of the line – he or she will get one – and only one – warning glare. If they are somehow immune to my Jedi-esque back off, Jack look, he or she will be on the receiving end of my public wrath.  I am not kidding. I have humiliated space hogs in malls and crowded Starbucks in the past, and not felt the least bit bitchy or embarrassed.

 There you have it. The top peeves of a very long list. I know you have more than a few, so hit me. Let’s talk about all of the things we hate!

WTF Is it With Trying to Find a Job?

Let's face it - looking for a job sucks in every way possible. It sucks all of your time. It sucks all of your energy. Finally, it will suck every last bit of self-confidence you have. The longer it takes to find a job, the more you feel like you aren't worth hiring.

As many of you know, I was laid off some time ago. It was a blessed relief because I really hated what I did for a living even though I made really good money doing it. In the end, I truly believed that my daily grind wasn't worth the salary, and I would be more than happy to work somewhere for less, as long as it was something I at least kinda liked. I guess it sounds pretty corny, but I feel I'm better off happy than making a ton of money.

I still feel that way - I really do. I am standing my ground, but lately, it hasn't been that easy, and it seems the longer it takes, the more pissed off I am and the more likely I am to go fucking insane. I know it's tough out there for many people, and I am not the only highly educated and experienced unemployed person in the mix. Jobs are scarce and I have never felt that I was above certain types of jobs or more deserving than the next guy.  I have happily sent resumes to a variety of companies for a variety of positions. Some of them are only part time. Some of them offer awful pay and the bare bones benefits - like the If you cut your arm off, maybe we'll pay for it type of benefits.

I am also fully aware that it is definitely an employer's market out there. For every one position that opens, there are a hundred people who need the job, and the employers now have the upper-hand. The have the freedom to be much more demanding and finicky about who they want for that job.If I'm not exactly what they are looking for well, sorry to hear about my bad luck.

That doesn't piss me off. That's just the nature of the beast. What really frosts my cookies is the overabundance of rudeness I have encountered. I have sent out countless resumes and I have only received three...count them...THREE responses. What. The. Fuck. That is just shitty and offensive. I spent a lot of time tailoring my cover letter and resume to "apply" for the job. The least a perspective employer can do is send you a thanks, but no thanks letter so I know they at least read the friggin' thing.

Nonetheless, I must keep my nose to the grind stone, ear to the ground and all that shit while I continue my quest. I'm not a quitter...just a bitcher. Putting the rant down in words just relieves a bit of the pressure. Anyone have any employment-seeking horror stories? I'd love to commiserate with you.

The End of the Beginning Part III: No, Really - This is Finally the End

“It is not the end. It is not the beginning of the end. It is the end of the beginning.” – Sherman the Robot (Millennium, 1989)

The above quote from a kinda whack 80’s Sci-Fi movie actually served as one of my points of inspiration when I first set out on my written catharsis. I feel it speaks volumes about how I feel at this time of my life. My life isn’t over. It’s not even close to being over; however, the first half or so of it is. What’s done is done. Time to look ahead and figure out what happens next – and so much of that is all up to me. So now all I need to do is start. How about I start with what I can control?

Once again, I have decided to take another journey down the weight loss path. I have done this multiple times. I have always had a little success only to get bored or frustrated and ultimately give up. I have been at it for five weeks and have lost five freaking pounds. WTF? A pound a week? That’s great for a person that only needs to lose ten or fifteen pounds. It’s another story for me. If I keep going at this pace, I’ll die of old age before I lose all the weight I should. 

After careful reflection, I have come to the conclusion that I may have to actually work out to get this weight loss thing going. I hate working out, and by that I mean go to the gym and work out working out. I have done it before, and I have gotten very little out of it. It’s…its…boring! It’s not that I’m lazy. I’m not! I am probably one of the most active fatties I know. I just need to actually be doing something to get a work out. To assist me in this area, I have purchased a video game system with games where I have to seriously move around in order to play them. There is also the bonus of jerking around the room like I am having a seizure in the privacy of my own home. My extreme lack of rhythm demands that I not dance in public. It’s just too damn humiliating for me and distracting for everyone else.

Then there is the question of what I want to do professionally for the rest of my life. In this day and age, I am not embarrassed to say that it has been some time since I have worked. It is, however, time to get back on the working bandwagon again. I refuse to go back to the circle of Hell known as the insurance industry. I just can’t do it again. I sacrificed 12 years of my life to that wretched industry and I have sworn I would never go back. The problem is that I don’t really know how to do anything else.

I have realized that college and graduate school didn’t prepare me for jack shit in the real world. The only thing I learned whilst getting all that education is that I can write a twenty to fifty page paper about anything. That’s when it dawned on me. I do know how to write, and I actually like doing it. I have written short stories, poems, research papers and even a novel. I have started to do some quasi-professional writing on the side for extra scratch, but TRUST ME – I’m still basically unemployed. Writing for a living can be hard, and I may not make a lot of money doing it, but it’s easier to get paid just a little to do what you love than to get paid a lot to do something you hate. I know that for a fact.

So here’s to the end of the beginning of my life, and I couldn't be more pleased.

THE END OF THE BEGINNING PT II: I Only Have Myself to Blame…Mostly

Mmmm….where was I? Think soon-to-be-addled brain, THINK! Ah, yes... “What the Hell…” or something like that.

To be fair, with regard to all the things I have felt have gone wrong with my life were really no one else’s fault. As with everyone’s lives, there were certain aspects that were just beyond my control; however, I will concede that a great many things I have both externally and internally whined about up to my 30’s are all on me.

There are so many things that I could have done differently – school, friends, jobs, my weight. All of those things were the things I have always whined about, and all of those things were well within my own control. I could have actually applied myself in high school. I could have been a little less of a bitch and had more friends. I could have had a different job. No one forced me to work at a restaurant for 10 years and then in the insurance industry for the next 10. Finally, I could have just gone on a fucking diet. Like I said, everything that happened up until I entered my 30’s was all on me…mostly.

So much happened in the last ten years, though – so much that I couldn’t stop or change. I have lived through a decade of filled with so much suckage that I am actually looking forward to it fading off into the ether of the past. 

First of all, I spent most of my 30’s working at a job I despised. I was a liability claims adjuster in the insurance industry. Yes, I know. The actual job was within my control; however, getting laid off was not something I could have stopped. So, going through my savings and ending up fucking broker than a joker was never part of any kind of master plan. It isn’t for anyone.

The worst part of the last decade, however has got to be the number of deaths I have had to deal with. You just can’t do jack shit about people dying because it is something everyone is going to do. First, my best friend of over 20 years passed away, and it was all downhill from there. I was then faced with the deaths of two beloved uncles, my sister, another close friend and then my father. This all happened in the second half of those damned 10 years. 

I have been spiraling a bit since then, and it will take a while to get over it, but it’s not the proverbial end of the world. It’s just life, and shit just happens. There have been many times I have been content with life…sometimes even happy, believe it or not. There have also been many times that I have never been more unhappy and disappointed with myself. I’ll be damned if I’m going to dwell on it though. What’s done is done. I can’t turn the clock around and change anything. The past is just that – the past. I think it’s time for me to get over it.

The End of the Beginning - Pt. I: What the Hell??

When most of us were in our teens, we felt insanely bulletproof. Why? That’s because it is the age where we got our first glimpse of independence without the albatross of responsibility hanging around our necks. We had friends, jobs that paid for bullshit we didn't need, relationships, and they were all that really mattered in our self-centered little lives. Most of us still had someone clothing, feeding and housing us.

I was definitely one of those teens. My sole purpose for working as a teenager was to purchase records, metal magazines and concert tickets. I did what a lot of other kids do at that age. I spent most of those years just fucking around. I skipped class, went to parties, stayed out too late and loathed high school. 

With our 20's came a lot more freedom, with just a sprinkling of responsibility. Some of us struck out on our own, and learned the hard way why your parents always freaked out about the bills and the necessity of saving at least some money. Then there were those of us who were trying to figure out what we were going to do with our lives after we had partied our education away in college and returned home to mom and dad. I mean, sure - we had responsibility, but we were still young enough to act like we didn't care.

Whatever mistakes we made were nothing more than "learning experiences", right? If we fell down, we just got up, dusted ourselves off and carried on. The only twenty-somethings that had it bad were the schmucks who went insane and got married too young. Face it. Most twenty-somethings have the world by the ass and don’t even realize it.  

The 30's are a totally different ball of wax. Responsibility is in mad force, and you can't just shrug it off anymore. You have it coming at you from both sides. On the one end, you have to deal with the shit life is dumping on you while trying to plan for some terrifying future you know you’re not prepared for. On the other end, you feel like you are still paying for all those dumbass mistakes you made in your 20's. It is the age when a great many are parents and likely on a second or third marriage. Many have had some sort of epiphany and decide that it's time to finally go back to school and commit to what he or she wants to be when he or she grows up.

It varies from person to person, of course, but this is all general truth, my friends. I know it is. I know this because I have lived through all those decades. I am just two weeks away from leaving that third decade of so-called living behind.  I find myself looking over my shoulder at the hot mess that was my 30’s and then facing forward to stare straight down the barrel of 40.

What happened? Where did it all go? Who the fuck knows? It's crazy. One day I was seventeen then the next I was...well, so NOT seventeen. I don’t know how it happened, but somewhere along the way I have lived what is likely HALF of my life. Now that it's gone, what the hell am I supposed to do now?