Monthly Archives: July 2013

Sing the Glorious Tales of My Last Morning With a Computer


Great news! I leave this morning for a weekend long adventure that I have already spent far too long talking about. We’re first headed to Menomonie for some casual food, shopping, coffee, and other cliche hipster girl things. There is a reason for this.

Alexa and I have become too accustomed to being ‘those typical’ girls who go to town all of the time and get coffee, pizza, or ice cream and then wander around looking way too attractive to be approachable. It’s a thing we do and it’s a serious problem.

Now, Alice is sometimes in on it as well, so today is a weekend farewell to that kind of business. Because when you’re at a Ren Faire, you don’t need to be that asshole that goes to the same town four times a week to do the exact same thing and then call it an adventure.

Mostly because you’re busy being the most attractive you have ever been in your life (I’m a huge fan of Renaissance gear, it turns me on a bit) and hanging out with a ton of other really attractive people who have varying scales of talent in faking old European accents and gallivanting.

So yeah. Alexa will be here in the next thirty minutes and I am not packed or anything and not sure if I’m supposed to be showering or not. The only reason that I am on the computer at this time is to ask her these pressing questions, but she isn’t replying.

Also, I’m bidding farewell to all of my various social networking apps while I’m gone for a whole two and a half days. By the way, in other good news, next week I work every day doing morning shifts at a local CSA.

So I am again making money which, in turn, funds my douchey adventures which, in turn leaves me wanting of money making. Vicious cycle.

Anyway, I hope all of your weekends are as good as mine is projected to be.

Love ya!

 

Advertisements

The Smoking Problem


Friends, I’m not really that much of a smoker. In fact, if I have a whole pack of cigarettes in front of me and I am alone, the likeliness that I will take and smoke one is just about zero percent.

However. And this is a huge, please forgive me for my problem, kind of ‘however’. When I am around other people who are smoking (which is rare, so it’s okay) and there is a whole pack of cigarettes in front of me…

I will smoke a cigarette EVERY time someone else lights one. Every single time. And this has been a problem of late only because the people I hang out with are ALSO social smokers. So it goes like this.

“Do you want a cigarette?”

“If you have one, I’ll smoke one, too.”

And the problem is; we’re all trying to be so polite that each of us ends up smoking as many cigarettes as we all have. Which is generally too many cigarettes, especially if you’re under the belief (as you should be) that even one cigarette is too many cigarettes.

I am firmly against you smoking if you are as well. Habits and addictions are not good things to form, especially if they are ones that have the potential to kill you. Speaking of warnings, the cigarette packages no longer say ‘may cause lung cancer’ anymore. Nope.

We have reached a whole new level of douchebaggery since ‘not everyone’ gets lung cancer from smoking cigarettes. The new Surgeon General’s warning is: “Caution, cigarettes contain Carbon Monoxide.”

I shit you not. This is what they say. Not ‘this could be toxic’ or ‘please stay away if you value your life’…no, it’s ‘I hope you know what Carbon Monoxide is because, bitch, you’re gonna die.’

So there was your informative guide to my deadly habits and a small rant about cigarette companies being soul-sucking douchebags.

Today, Alexa and Alice came over and we hung out and talked out the songs we’re going to be performing at the Renaissance Faire this weekend. Tomorrow, we are going on an adventure to either Eau Claire or Menomonie, and then setting up camp at the Ren Faire grounds and prepping the site as much as we can.

On Saturday, the festival begins and I will be spending two hours shucking corn during that day instead of gallivanting about and having a good time. But it’s money and I cannot protest money making at this time in my life, so that is the plan.

You may not hear from me at all until after the weekend, but, I assure you…

You will survive. I’m a bad addiction to have anyway. Too many times I will just make you go cold turkey and no one likes the drawbacks of not having me around.

Love ya!

The Sore Finger Syndrome and Renaissance Faires (Again)


Hello lovelies and welcome to another day of ‘Telea Incessantly Talks About Herself and Expects Others to Not Only Pay Attention but Also to Adore Her’. The first order of business is probably to shorten that title by just a hair.

I have been bettering myself. Slightly. A little bit. Other than the stress of the day every day which causes me to, sadly, cave and smoke a cigarette, I am revitalizing myself in many small ways. 

“Telea, you’re only eighteen…you don’t need to ‘revitalize’ yourself. Stop being an idiot.”

I must not be doing a great job of revitalizing myself because my imaginary talky people are still down on me. Anyway, enough with the stupid, not even humorous, ranting. We’re actually going to talk about me bettering myself.

Yesterday I heard a song on the radio that I grew up listening to. This song, in case you were wondering, is titled ‘One Headlight’ by The Wallflowers and is so wonderfully sad that I just have no words for how it has impacted my life.

So, regardless of the two bar chords the song decided to throw at me, I printed off the lyrics and chords and began practicing them on my dad’s guitar (because mine is horridly out of tune and also needs new strings).

Less than 24 hours later I can easily transition to these bar chords and they sound almost pretty good and also I rock at singing so the song is, in general, coming together really well. However, the fingers on my left hand are so achy that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to play another bar chord in my life.

For those of you who have not played stringed instruments and know nothing of the craft:

When you play the instrument a lot, the fingers on the hand pressing down on the strings to play chords or fingerpick generally get sore and irritated (and sometimes blistered) from practicing so much. An easy solution for me would be to actually pick up my guitar and play it every day instead of skipping out for weeks or even months but apparently I suck.

So that covers sore fingers and now we’re moving on to Renaissance Faires. Again. (Last year was a whole hullabaloo and you’re probably not interested).

So this weekend is the second annual ‘Ren in the Glen’ or ‘Glenfest’ festival (redundant). It takes place in Glenwood City, Wisconsin, and if you live nearby (within 200 miles, I mean)… you should definitely attend.

It’s a small faire right now, but, come on, it’s only in its second year and that means that you would have more time to spend/interact with the actors (such as myself) and no big lines for the vendors or food stands.

So I’m mostly excited because I get to camp out there with all of the actors this year (because I am, in fact, an actor this year) and we’re going to stay up and sing English Folk songs and have a fire and it’s going to be the height of excellence.

I also went Goodwilling yesterday and found my outfit, which is kind of…Renaissance Bavarian Tavern Wench-y? Here’s a photograph:

Image

 

The only part that I didn’t buy yesterday was the corset (fifteen dollars) and the necklace (handmade by my friend Grace). The rest came to a total of 21 dollars (yes, that includes the shoes) and is pretty perfect. Also yes, I understand that it’s a terrible photo of my face but that’s what you get when you’re up for two nights straight and then spend the entire day shopping, which is a pastime I do not enjoy one bit.

So yeah, that’s my life right now.

Love ya!

The Bailing Habit


Hello internet. 

I’m sure you’re surprised that I’ve actually been posting of late. Don’t worry; so am I. I was thinking about my blog a couple of weeks ago and just feeling so down about the fact that I started this blog for me and to make myself feel good and then I let go of it a bit, thus feeling less good. 

I partially blame my slight over-addiction to Tumblr, where I run a blog as well, but without all of the actual writing blog posts bit and more of the reblogging pictures of butts and articles on social justice bit.

So, I have a bailing habit. I find something pretty and useless and bail on the slightly more useful and definitely more emotionally effective thing I had before. If you didn’t catch that: I sacrificed my soul to Tumblr Satan and spent time forgetting all about my website over here at WordPress.

So it makes almost no sense that I would be frustrated and irritated with somebody who did basically the same thing to me in real life. I am aware that I will choose swimming over garden work and kissing over hugging, etc. I know that my habit is one that mostly just makes me seem like a gigantic douchebag all of the time…but the one thing I don’t do is make plans with someone over plans I already had.

For example.

Say that Cindy and Matthew are going to go to the mall on Friday.  They’ve been planning this for a couple of day and Cindy has been saving money to buy some things and she’s super pumped. Suddenly, on the day of the Mall Trip, Matthew says he met a girl yesterday and is going on a date with her today.

Of course, Cindy is happy that Matthew met a girl, but hey, ‘bros before hos’ and all those other cliches and she feels really left out and ditched. The reason for this isn’t just because Matthew made other plans. It also involves the fact that Matthew and Cindy have known each other for a long time and he is bailing on Cindy for a girl he just met.

It sucks.

Now, my situation is not really like that. But it is, kind of.

If a person messages you and wants to hang out and you alter your plans around this person so that you can spend time together, that person should definitely pick up the fucking phone when you call them when you get home.

So basically I had plans with Nicholas. And then Josh messaged me. And I was like: Hey I already have plans and so you’re gonna have to wait OR I will be home before nine and I can call you at nine to make plans. He said that was perfect and things would work out great from there.

When I went to Nicholas’s place, the family invited me to go to the drive-in with a whole bunch of other people I enjoy being around. I had to, sadly, decline because I already had plans with Josh. Or DID I?

Spoiler Alert: I didn’t and I sat home for the rest of the night on the computer while watching Downton Abbey with my mom.

So the lesson is: If you want to make plans with me and you say ‘call at this time’ or ‘let’s hang out at this time’ or, worst of all ‘I’ll be there in half an hour’ and then you fail to come through with picking up the phone, following through, or SHOWING UP…

Don’t make plans with me because I will be very sad, still forgive you, and my quality of life will go down because you continually disappoint me.

Side Note: If something serious came up for you (i.e, doctor, car accident, ran out of gas, phone broke, family emergency, etc), I won’t be disappointed by you, but I would hope that, if you could, you let me know that there was a crisis and that we will have to reschedule.

Rant over.

Love ya!

The Sudden Bout of Popularity


Dear internet,

Today when I logged onto my website just to post a post and leave, I found something rather surprising and overall exciting. Shall we get straight down to it or should I just psychobabble for a while first?

Apparently, I’m decent at thinking up slang words because you lovely people liked the ones I included in my last post. Let me warn you…it’s not uphill from here. Basically the only words I’m good at conjoining are the words ‘bro’ and almost every other word in existence (see blog posts from October 2012).

But I was so pleased and delighted that people stumbled across my blog and liked what I had to share. Even more exciting is when a nearby blogger finds me and wants to talk and chill. This has happened once before with a gorgeous individual named Lexi. She lives/lived (haven’t caught up with her life of late) about four hours away and we were always planning on spending time with each other, but never quite managed to make the trip.

You know, West Coast Wisconsin is a long way from East Coast Wisconsin. I added coast ironically, so don’t get judgy. We still stay in touch once in a while, but from long hours of texting, facebooking, and skype messaging, I think we really helped each other out in a few ways to learn and to grow as individuals (and also she’s really hot, so there’s that).

I’m bringing this up because someone from Minneapolis thinks I look cool and read my blog post and that’s enough for me to just want to hug her and tell her how cool she seems to be. So I stalked her blog and she’s this super pretty person who just married her soul mate (sigh of vicarious romantic contentment). And she thinks it would be cool to hang out with me (maybe not after I immediately decided to blog about her…is that creepy?)

Anyway, if you’re curious about who I’m referring to, or just want to see a pretty solid-seeming blog filled with photographs and adventures, the URL is listed below:

http://www.apartment-wife.com

Okay, well, it has been a long day and so I’ll quick tell you about it and then go do things because within half an hour of being home, I already have other plans.

Yesterday I went on an adventure with my two best friends. We got Nachos at this cute little Cafe, French Fries at a pretty rad bar, and Ice Cream at McDonalds. We then proceeded to wander around downtown (Menomonie) and then wander around Walmart. I told at least twelve people that they were attractive and I told one person that he had excellent genetics. I was glad when all of them accepted my compliments graciously.

We then proceeded to head back to my friend Alexa’s place for a camping sleepover where we stayed up until five am discussing social justice, politics, and all that other shit we swore we wouldn’t be boring enough to talk about when we were kids.

After what we consider to be ‘an extended nap’ rather than ‘a full night’s sleep’, Alice (the other best friend) went home and Alexa and I went out for pizza and Antiquing. It was great.

And now I’m off to spend one last day with a Danish Exchange Student who came on his exchange program last year and is visiting the states for a couple of weeks. We’re going to watch a movie and snuggle because that is what friendship is all about.

And then when I get home from that, I’m probably going to get picked up by my buddy Josh for a late night swimming adventure. Ay ay ay, I do too much with my Freekends.

Love ya!

The Freekend


A freekend is a weekend in which you have absolutely no plans. Not to be confused with the Freakend, which consists of a group of people going out and being as strange as possible (ie trolling stores, costuming themselves for fast food restaurant visits, or starting a circus).

This weekend is my first Freekend in a while, and I’m not sure what exactly to do with it. I’m tired and a bit sore from all of my Community Service, but I’m thinking maybe I want to go swimming or make a date with someone cute or maybe convince someone to drive into the cities?

Honestly, the best thing this Freekend would be to head into Minneapolis and spend some quality time with some quality people but I’m not sure if anyone would be willing to drive me in, especially if all I want to do is hang out with a ton of people my ride doesn’t know and kiss all of their faces.

So the chances are that I will be spending too much time in front of the TV when I could be doing something productive with my life, like crack or meth. Or not. Remember that I make terribly placed, not funny, jokes on the regular and you shouldn’t hold it against me.

I have recently posted a status on Facebook to let everyone know of my availability but I’m not sure exactly how much good that will do. Edit, I have been invited to see the ‘best fireworks of the summer’ in Minneapolis tonight.

Last night I did have a decent time after Community Service. Tristan came over at around 10:30 and we hung out in his new car and laughed about all of the awkward, unspeakable things that  happened last summer.

We have a very strange friendship, to say the least.

Also, I’m looking into making some money to be able to move out. This would promote my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being, especially if I could find a place in Minneapolis. The problem is the making of money, SO, if anyone out there happens to have a whole bunch of extra cash lying around and happens to love me…

Well. You should let me know immediately because I would be, like anyone else, the happiest person if a large check arrived in my mailbox. 

Anyway, I should probably get to doing some fairly unproductive things whilst searching desperately for a ride to somewhere to do something.

Happy Freekend!

Love ya!

The Perks of Being a Post-Grad Criminal


Dear Internet.

It has been a while since I’ve written and I’m told this could be a positive thing since I am spending more time in the ‘real world’ and less on the internet. I don’t know. Mostly I am just really, really tired.

For the last four days I have been doing Community Service as a Kitchen Prep at a school near to my house. Basically these spoiled, over-privileged kids come out and do ‘Homestays’ at this school and it’s basically like summer camp except they actually have to work hard and learn something.

So, to fulfill some more hours of my Community Service that I was assigned, I headed on out to the school and toiled over food, heavy cleaning, harvesting, and mentoring these kids. It was definitely a tiring experience.

Between grating carrots, making pizza dough, and scraping year-old meat oils and scraps from a deep industrial stove dish, I managed to make a couple of really young (like fourteen) year-old friends, play a couple of games of apples to apples, and incur the wrath of my poor face when steam and oil from working in a kitchen clung to my pores and caused literally the most massive breakout of my life.

Remind me never to work in fast food. I kind of like being attractive and, needless to say, having pus-filled lumps all over your chin, forehead, and jawline isn’t even remotely cute.

So this is another post to advise you all to not get in trouble with the law because, as interesting as new experiences may be, you will be tired, sore, and pimply at the end of the day. 

On the bright side, I logged 32.5 hours of Community Service in four days, leaving me with only forty-six hours left to do. Can I get a cheer of approval or at least a ‘take the weekend off’? Thank you.

Now, excuse me while I go wash my face and possibly set it on fire and then take a nap/watch ‘Orange is the New Black’.

Love ya!