Richardland Blog

I was laying in bed last night trying to go to sleep, when I noticed a pulsing light shining on the wall directly in front of me in the shape of a trapezoid on top of a triangle. It was huge. Straight ahead. And oddly familiar looking….
The source wasn’t a mystery. I listen to talk radio podcasts while laying in bed and when I feel the decent into slumber coming on I close the lid on my Macbook Pro, sending the laptop into sleep mode. While sleeping though, the light on the front of the lid shines a very bright light that fades and blasts non stop. I have no idea why this is a cool feature for a computer, or one that can’t be turned off, but it’s there and on most computers now. My last laptop was so annoying in that regard that I duct taped the light. But that was a black Gateway. This is an aluminum Macbook Pro. So I dare not be tacky and do the same with this delicate beauty.

So instead I just have to put a shirt over it to block the light from filling the room. This time, the shirt failed to cover it all the way though, because the laptop was resting on a desk chair next to my bed and the American Eagle hoodie I had draped over the light was resting on the arm of the chair. This obscured the laptop light in such a way that right in front of my bed, at head level, there was a projection of a very familiar shape.

Very familiar… hmm. What IS that I wondered? I’ve seen it before. I know it.
This must be a sign. I have to figure this out, because whatever this symbol is that I know of, I need to find it…. and do. something.

At first I thought, is that the SeaWorld logo?

But no.
That’s not it.
It’s different than the SeaWorld logo.

Its someone’s symbol though. Something… delicious…

(more…)

Why do people say “that’s so vanilla” to call something boring?

That’s not fair to vanilla. It’s not plain. It’s not just the “water” of ice cream. Vanilla is a flavor. It’s a taste. Vanilla is a flavor that is rich and tasty.

Ya, it’s not as zesty as even a few of the other basics like strawberry or mint chip. But you gonna tell me vanilla is significantly less complex of a taste than chocolate?

Gimmie a break dude. Lets just call this for what we all know it really is. Hating on whitey.

It’s the old “white men can’t jump/dance/or be cool” line, repackaged into a frozen sugar & cream metaphor.

Well screw that. If you don’t like the taste of vanilla then fine. But don’t put your bigotry on my people by using the outdated and false stereotype of vanilla being bland or uninteresting.

Vanilla Power.

Girl: uhg! this Coke is bad.
Me: Whats bad about it?
Girl: It’s Mountain Dew. the Orange kind.
Me: uuhhhh….

(Actual reaction captured with a click of the cam)

Apparently she calls all soft drinks “Coke”…

Still here in Texas visiting my parents. I call it “visiting” cuz it doesn’t have the same charm as “using as a Bed & Breakfast for a week while I recover from a fever that I got while partying too hard in St Louis”. My mom came home today with a box of Girl Scout Cookies telling me to hide them in my room and not ever bring them out so her and my dad don’t eat them. It was a daunting task, but I was up to the challenge. She also got me some Benadrhl, which I said was the wrong kind and later turned out to be wrong, but shouldn’t have said it was the wrong kind anyway cuz she had already gotten the wrong kind of sore throat meds earlier. So now this double-wrong move frustrated her n that’s bad cuz you gotta keep chicks upbeat to keep them serving you and since I’m critical about everything else I gotta pick the times to point out failure. Like this morning when I made my mom make me waffles even though she was busy. When I brought back my empty plate I was like “thanks mom. but next time could you try and make them not taste like shit?”. Just kidding. They were good. Girl Scout Cookies are good too and I’m eating them now.

Girl Scout Cookies are one of those things that you forget exist until you have them again and then you remember how awesome they are until you forget about them again.

The GS Cooks whose crumbs I’m getting all over my laptop now are Samoas. Or what used to be called Samoas. Now I see the box says “Caramel deLites”. What the hell? deLite? Is that supposed to be sine sort of non legal advertisement that they’re low fat? What happened to Samoas? I think we all know what happened to Samoas. They were murdered by Political Correctness.

Some special interest time wasting idiot group representing Samoan tribes probably got together and rallied so they would no longer have to suffer the persecution of having a delicious desert snack sold for charity named after them, and the Girl Scouts - being girls and all - caved to the pressure.

*Okay, I just Googled it to see if I was right, and the real reason is some bureaucratic bullshit about processing and different manufacturers that make the cookies for the Girl Scouts and all kinds of technical garbage that isn’t interesting at all.

Also, I’ve been eating these things as I type and… erm. I think I mighta had too much…

I just had this interchange on the phone with a girl while she was driving. Mid conversation about her upcoming math test she says:

Girl: [see's police lights] haaaaa. some-one gawt pulled oooo-verr. ha ha. which I’m glad isn’t me cuz I’m goin way too fast.
Me: well slow down. it’s raining there. chill out.
Girl: …unless it IS me…. ohma gawd….
Me: what?
Girl: ohma gawd ohma gawd. is it me?
Me: He’s behind you??
Girl: ohma gawd please don’t be me.
Me: are you pulling over?
Girl: No!
Me: pull over stupid! if its not you then he’ll pass you by. hurry up and get to the side.
Girl: ohma gawwwwd nooo! I can NOT get another ticket!
Me: well pull over!
Girl: ohma gawwd! is it seriously meeee? nooo
Me: PULL. OVER. NOW. and get off the phone.
Girl: ohma gawd
Me: HEY!
Girl: okay okay okay….. uuuh. i’ll call you back

She cried. threw up outside the car door. and got a ticket.

I was just typing an email reply and I spelled “frequently”… as “freakwently“….

Freak. wently.

Should I kill myself? I kinda feel like I should kill myself.

I’m at my parents house in Texas now for a few days and I told my mom that while I’m here we should go to an AT&T store and ask about family plans. She said she didn’t know because my dad has been on a kick lately about him and my mom “not supporting me” so I should come at him with the raw numbers to convince him to join one. I paused for a second to try and understand that. Cuz of course, if we switched to a family plan, its not like I would just get a free ride on their plan… I would pay one third of the monthly bill that presumably would be cheaper than what I pay by myself and they pay on their together plan.

Even if the price difference doesn’t come out to be very much less than I’m currently paying, I still benefit under a family plan because my parents, together use about 12 of their minutes a month since everyone they call is on the same network, equaling free minutes.

So a switch to include me in a family plan hurts them none, but helps me lots. And that’s enough to make my dad oppose it. Its a FAMILY plan. It’s for people that are related to each other to share. Did my dad just kick me out of the family?

lol. My dad hates me.

I was staying at Jimmy’s house in St Louis and sleeping in his 3 year old daughters room since she was at her grandparents for the weekend. Well, she came back Sunday night instead of Monday so my ass was moved to the couch, where I was able to receive night number 2 of zero to 4 hours of sleep. This is just what the virus wanted. and it rubbed its little virussey palms together in satisfaction.

Monday: So I wake up and feel tired, droopy and have a cottonhead. Cottonhead isn’t a medical term even in slang, so don’t bother googling - I’m just saying my head felt like Cotton. You know - thick, fluffy, airy, the fabric of our lives. That kinda thing. So now what the eff am I supposed to do? I had previously considered staying in Missouri till the weekend when Wheeler would be back, but I couldn’t battle an oncoming fever virus with no juice,fruits,soups&meds on a couch for a whole week. I’d die. So I had to leave that day. But where? To home in California? eff that. My mom IMed me asking when I was leaving and I mentioned I was getting sick and that maybe I should stop by her place before going home. She said “yes. ok. come here” and booked me on the 2 o’clock flight to Texas. Go mom.

Afternoon: The whole plane ride I was fighting back the urge to vomit. I got the sickness bag ready in the seat pocket in front of me but never had to use it. Made the entire ride very uncomfortable though since I had to constantly concentrate on the back of my throat and be like “noo… no… ah!… noo..” the same way I do when I put a treat in front of my dog and make him sit and look at it till I say “okay” and he looks back and forth between me and the treat while leaning forward ever so slightly.
My dog was puke in that metaphor in case that was hard to follow btw.

Night: I made it to Texas, got my bag, and finally relaxed my defenses and let the virus take over. Despite picking up steaks at Costco on the way home, per my dads request, I passed them up when they were grilled and pretty much just collapsed and fell into the trippy whirlwind of feverland. It was like my head was a gas stove that had been on low for 2 days and when I was at last in surroundings where I could sleep, eat and be taken care of comfortably, my body said “FINALLY!” and turned the flame on to high. I think I even heard the “Pffffoo” blast too. Which sucks because that’s really great imagery, but gas grills are becoming scarce so I’m dating this post and in 8 years or so no one is gonna understand wtf I was talking about.

(more…)

While in Missouri over the weekend I noticed that I consistently gear the answer to the “what do you do?” question depending on where the person who asked it lives.

Both as a source of income and a long term profession investment, I have two jobs that alternate back and forth month to month on which is the source of income and which is the [not so profitable but is an] investment for the future. Those two things being that I am a model and I run a web business from home that manages and maintains a network of websites such as the one you’re reading this post on right now.

When people in California ask me what I do, I tell them I’m a model with interests in acting.
When people in Missori ask me what I do, I tell them I’m a website developer.

Both are true, but I never mention the other.
The reason, I figured out, is expectation from the asker.

If I tell someone in California I’m a model, they go “oh, cool!” cuz its normal and familiar. But if I told them I build and market websites they’re gonna wanna know which ones and I dang well better have something big they’ve heard of to recite.

Likewise if I tell someone in Missouri I’m a webmaster, they go “oh, cool!” cuz its normal and familiar. But if I told them I’m a model they’re gonna wanna know what I’ve been in and I dang well better have something big they’ve heard of to recite.

So since none of the websites in my portfolio reach a hundred million visitors yet and my model work has thus far been short of a billboard in Time Square or the side of a bus somewhere, I keep both occupations as hush as possible. I’ll let the work I did on each leak into the open after the success so its more interesting.