Once again, it is Christmas time! Right on schedule, as always, and I think it is one of the most glorious times of the year. People are nicer, food tastes better, and I don't mind it being cold because that means it's hot cocoa time! Christmas is the perfect pick-me-up from the dreary winter. Not only because of the gifts, but because of the time families spend together.
...Okay, there's something about the gifts and I don't ever want to grow out of that. I am the first born and Daddy's little girl. I am not afraid to say that I am spoiled. Really spoiled. Not only did I ask for a Wii and a Kenict for XBox (if you don't know what it is, please Google it, it's awesome), but I got both; the boyfriend got me one, and my dad the other. He's also sending me to China next year for a class. How amazing of a dad is he?
In my spoiled defence, I work hard. Not only am I a full time student, I also work two jobs, and pay for everything myself. Unlike other kids my age, I pay my own phone bill, insurance, credit cards, car payment, schooling, and rent. The only day's I'm off of work, I go to school from 9am til 5pm. I rarely see my parents, and have no time for myself. That's why (I think), I'm so spoiled. Of course, it could be because I'm Daddy's little girl, but I don't think it's just that.
The other reason I love the Christmas season (holiday season to be politically correct) so much is the for the time I am able to spend with my family. Work slows down for me, I work less hours since I'm still working retail, and I no longer have school. For an entire month, I get to give my brain a rest. I can finally veg out on the couch, rotting my brain with Spongebob Squarepants, eating whatever I feel like.
My Dad loves Christmas as well. He's always been a giver, and he favorite part about Christmas is seeing our faces light up when we open our gifts. For my 21st birthday, he took me to Vegas. Not because I asked, I didn't want him to spend all the money, but because he wanted to see the look on my face when I could finally drink. He took me out to Fremont street, and instead of watching the light show, he was watching my drunken reaction to it, as I recorded the entire thing.
Christmas is the only time of year when I see my Dad and I'm not sleep deprived, upset, or depressed because of how busy my life is. For a few days my Dad gets he family back. All the laughter, Yahtzee up the ying-yang, and the look of child-like innocence on his children's faces because they can finally be themselves.
Merry Christmas!
Friday, December 24, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Taking advantage of Government Funding
I have a gripe with EBT cards. They are there to help those who genuniely need help living with everyday expenses. They were designed to help people pay their bills, get food on their tables, and overall survive until they can get back on their feet again. My experiences with people who are on governtment funding is, slightly cinical. I've seen too much abuse with the EBT cards, that I can no longer see why they are in our society to begin with.
Working at a grocery store, a larger number of my customers are supported by government funding, and I see my hard earned tax dollars put to use. Not good use, just use. Don't get me wrong, there are individuals out there who need help, who have worked all their lives to buy a house and support a family, raise their kids right and send them off to college. But those individuals are few and far between, and I'm getting irritated seeing the abuse of government funding on a day to day basis.
I've also seen people lose their jobs, houses and families because the economy is so messed up. Just recently one of my customers lost his job, his wife filed for divorce, and his daughter "disowned" him, who got on foodstamps. He is completely devistated. He told me that America was founded for the opportunity of a better life, to give the ones you love the life you couldn't have, and that he felt as if his country had failed him. These are they people who should be helped. The ones who just need a helping hand until they can thrive again on their own.
There are too many people have come through my line buying food that I can't even afford! They buy filet mignion, organic foods, fresh crab, lobster tails, and high end alcohol, using EBT cards. Sure, they might be having a party. Yes it is possible that it is a special night (anniversery, birthday, etc.), and they are splurgging. It's when I see them, week after week, buying the same foods that make me realize, no, they are not just surviving until they get their feet back on the ground, they are living, even partying their lives away with my tax dollars. Some haven't had a job in years and have no intention of getting one for as long as they can. They have amazing mannicures, and real, not a knock-off, but genuine COACH or PRADA bags, designer shoes, sunglasses, the works. It angers me, and for some reason I can't justify why I shouldn't be angry.
I work my you-know-what off. My days off, I either work my other job (selling concert merchendise, a 10-12 hour shift), or am in class. I only get a day to myself when I request it off, which is few and far between because who's going to pay my bills if I miss a day of work? For the first time in 3 years I went home sick and cried because I was throwing away a couple hundred dollars, for what? I felt sick? I was ashamed of myself.
My dad raised me well. He doesn't believe in hand-outs. He works hard for his money, and the life he created for me and my brother. I inherited those same ideals. I am strong. I work hard. I don't back down. I don't let people tell me what to do. I am who I am and if you don't like it, tough. To see people take advantage of a program created to "float" them until they find a job and contribute to society again, irks me to my core.
I'm not one to judge people. I hate judging others because I've been judged my whole life and know what it feels to be looked at as if you were under a microscope. But when I see you 3-5 times a week, I get to know you, build a relationship with you and figure out what type of person you are, then I have every right to judge. I've given you pleanty of chances to prove yourself you've flushed it down the drain. Sorry, but I have pride, I fend for myself, and I strongly believe in helping only those who are willing to help themselves.
Just a rant to get something that's bothered me for sometime now off my chest.
Working at a grocery store, a larger number of my customers are supported by government funding, and I see my hard earned tax dollars put to use. Not good use, just use. Don't get me wrong, there are individuals out there who need help, who have worked all their lives to buy a house and support a family, raise their kids right and send them off to college. But those individuals are few and far between, and I'm getting irritated seeing the abuse of government funding on a day to day basis.
I've also seen people lose their jobs, houses and families because the economy is so messed up. Just recently one of my customers lost his job, his wife filed for divorce, and his daughter "disowned" him, who got on foodstamps. He is completely devistated. He told me that America was founded for the opportunity of a better life, to give the ones you love the life you couldn't have, and that he felt as if his country had failed him. These are they people who should be helped. The ones who just need a helping hand until they can thrive again on their own.
There are too many people have come through my line buying food that I can't even afford! They buy filet mignion, organic foods, fresh crab, lobster tails, and high end alcohol, using EBT cards. Sure, they might be having a party. Yes it is possible that it is a special night (anniversery, birthday, etc.), and they are splurgging. It's when I see them, week after week, buying the same foods that make me realize, no, they are not just surviving until they get their feet back on the ground, they are living, even partying their lives away with my tax dollars. Some haven't had a job in years and have no intention of getting one for as long as they can. They have amazing mannicures, and real, not a knock-off, but genuine COACH or PRADA bags, designer shoes, sunglasses, the works. It angers me, and for some reason I can't justify why I shouldn't be angry.
I work my you-know-what off. My days off, I either work my other job (selling concert merchendise, a 10-12 hour shift), or am in class. I only get a day to myself when I request it off, which is few and far between because who's going to pay my bills if I miss a day of work? For the first time in 3 years I went home sick and cried because I was throwing away a couple hundred dollars, for what? I felt sick? I was ashamed of myself.
My dad raised me well. He doesn't believe in hand-outs. He works hard for his money, and the life he created for me and my brother. I inherited those same ideals. I am strong. I work hard. I don't back down. I don't let people tell me what to do. I am who I am and if you don't like it, tough. To see people take advantage of a program created to "float" them until they find a job and contribute to society again, irks me to my core.
I'm not one to judge people. I hate judging others because I've been judged my whole life and know what it feels to be looked at as if you were under a microscope. But when I see you 3-5 times a week, I get to know you, build a relationship with you and figure out what type of person you are, then I have every right to judge. I've given you pleanty of chances to prove yourself you've flushed it down the drain. Sorry, but I have pride, I fend for myself, and I strongly believe in helping only those who are willing to help themselves.
Just a rant to get something that's bothered me for sometime now off my chest.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Squirrels
I have a 2 hour break between classes, and for the most part, use the time to catch up on my homework, or grab a bite to eat. Today I did both. Since my campus is so big, I also try to keep moving to get some exercise throughout the day (ain't I smart!). Being fall and all, there are a lot of squirrels out and about.
The squirrels on campus don't run away from you when you get close. As long as you walk slowly, cautiously, towards them, they will stay put and stare you down. That's exactly what I did today -- about seven times. Observing the squirrels, I noticed things about them I never cared to see before.
They hop! Like little bunny rabbits. Their fur is multi-colored, and soft as well (I luckily got close enough to touch one). But their face and paws are just like rats. Then I started thinking how a squirrel even came about. Did a rat and a rabbit fall in-love, have a litter, and boom! Squirrels? Is that weird? Seriously, go stare at a squirrel some time. Watch them move, hop, and dig in the grass looking for food. Be careful though, they like to stare you down, it's amazing the intensity they hold in their beady little eyes....
The squirrels on campus don't run away from you when you get close. As long as you walk slowly, cautiously, towards them, they will stay put and stare you down. That's exactly what I did today -- about seven times. Observing the squirrels, I noticed things about them I never cared to see before.
They hop! Like little bunny rabbits. Their fur is multi-colored, and soft as well (I luckily got close enough to touch one). But their face and paws are just like rats. Then I started thinking how a squirrel even came about. Did a rat and a rabbit fall in-love, have a litter, and boom! Squirrels? Is that weird? Seriously, go stare at a squirrel some time. Watch them move, hop, and dig in the grass looking for food. Be careful though, they like to stare you down, it's amazing the intensity they hold in their beady little eyes....
Friday, October 8, 2010
Here I am
So, I have no idea what to write about. I actually didn't want a blog in the first place. I thought I might lose a piece of my identity if I had one. Fortunately, someone nudged me in to the direction of blogging.
I was in my professor's office getting advice for a paper we have to write. I told him I have an issue with what to write. See, the paper is only supposed to be 4-6 pages long. The problem is, I feel that 4-6 pages isn't enough. I have so much information in my mind, that I feel mentally constipated. I want to write everything, but alas, I am restricted. He told me to just write. Write it all down, then later edit it to fit the page restriction.
But I always feel that way. I feel as if I have so much to say but no real way to get it out. I've filled journal after journal about nothing. I used to write all the time, every spare chance that I got, and now I don't write at all. My boyfriend keeps telling me to start writing again because it makes me happy and allows me to get whatever I'm feeling out. I honestly don't know why I stopped to begin with, but I did, and I regret all the time I let slip through my fingers by not writing. Even now, while writing this post, I'm feeling better already. I'm getting that slight anxious/excited feeling I used to get when writing.
Anyways, after talking with my professor for a bit, I guess he realized how much I loved writing and said, "If you consider yourself a writer, and you don't have a blog, that's your first mistake. Get one." So, here I am. I consider myself a writer, though I don't know if I necessarily write well, and I've made too many mistakes in my young life to miss out on anything else. Thank you Andy. I appreciate the advice, and feel as if my winds are a changin'.
Hopefully something good will come out of this blog. If not, then that's okay too. I'll just develop my writing skills, and continue my love affair with storytelling.
I was in my professor's office getting advice for a paper we have to write. I told him I have an issue with what to write. See, the paper is only supposed to be 4-6 pages long. The problem is, I feel that 4-6 pages isn't enough. I have so much information in my mind, that I feel mentally constipated. I want to write everything, but alas, I am restricted. He told me to just write. Write it all down, then later edit it to fit the page restriction.
But I always feel that way. I feel as if I have so much to say but no real way to get it out. I've filled journal after journal about nothing. I used to write all the time, every spare chance that I got, and now I don't write at all. My boyfriend keeps telling me to start writing again because it makes me happy and allows me to get whatever I'm feeling out. I honestly don't know why I stopped to begin with, but I did, and I regret all the time I let slip through my fingers by not writing. Even now, while writing this post, I'm feeling better already. I'm getting that slight anxious/excited feeling I used to get when writing.
Anyways, after talking with my professor for a bit, I guess he realized how much I loved writing and said, "If you consider yourself a writer, and you don't have a blog, that's your first mistake. Get one." So, here I am. I consider myself a writer, though I don't know if I necessarily write well, and I've made too many mistakes in my young life to miss out on anything else. Thank you Andy. I appreciate the advice, and feel as if my winds are a changin'.
Hopefully something good will come out of this blog. If not, then that's okay too. I'll just develop my writing skills, and continue my love affair with storytelling.
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