Wednesday, June 12, 2013

what do you think about olives?

i've mentioned this before.

sometimes i have these moments and i'm like, dude. i gotta blog about that.

sometimes these moments are small. and i think, well, that won't amount to a decently lengthy blog post. maybe i'll incorporate something else little.

but today's bloggable moment, however small, was so fantastic that i'm incorporating the rest of my day  to make it of proper posting length.

also, it wouldn't be a june GO! challenge if i didn't blog about being a big kid at least once.

normally when i blog about being a big kid, it's because my parents abandoned me to go hike in the wilderness or bike up mount everest or something, and my brother is away researching horny spiders, and i'm all alone pretending that my house is entirely mine.

what a young woman would do with a house as big as mine with just one person living in it is a mystery. but i pretend it's my entire house anyway. and that i just don't have to worry about the mortgage.

but today, when i was an adult, or at least pretending to be an adult, both of my parents were home, as was my older brother, who should be even more of an adult than me because he's twenty-three. and spending lots of time in my parents' basement.

when i got back from work, i lounged around on tumblr in a wet swim suit because i got in the pool with my little kids, and of course, that made the seat of my armchair wet, but my armchair is a badass and can take it like a strong woman. i finally got around to showering, and while i was in the shower, i was contemplating the list of things that i had to do and how i would interact with people and i would go into it confidently.

i've found, with anxiety, the best way for me to go out and be a responsible adult is to dress up. so i put on a cute pair of jean shorts, my favourite top, my intense purple eyeshadow, and my really awesome egyptian sandals. it was helpful.

i then spent a decent amount of time at the kitchen table trying to fill out a credit union slip that told my credit union that i wanted to put four checks into my checking account. two were from my birthday, one was for publishing a really creepy short story in alma's literary magazine, and the other one was my first paycheck.


filling out bank forms is confusing. on the alma check, i couldn't find the check number, and when it had four more digits than the other checks, i became anxious that it was wrong. then i realised that my signature really only involved one letter out of the ten, and that was h. sometimes my last name bothers me a lot. but i'll probably ending up marrying some dude with a long russian last name. you know how these things work.

my first stop was get gas because my fuel light had been on. gas was so expensive that rather than fill up my car, i had been driving the crimson avenger. secretly. then my dad noticed yesterday and he said, "why do you keep driving the avenger? GO GET GAS."

he didn't say i had to pay for the gas. so i got to bust out my really sweet union jack credit card.

oddly enough, i like getting gas. it's very satisfying and i feel like an adult. my family keeps intense gas records; my parents each did it separately before they met each other, which is why i think they married after eight months of knowing each other and have been married for twenty-five years. but whenever i get gas in the summer, i can wear my awesome sunglasses from high school and lean against the car with my arms crossed and feel cute in my egyptian sandals and pretend that i'm in a movie.

don't pretend like you haven't done something like that.

normally getting gas gives me this huge sense of accomplishment because it's like, i filled up my car! it's ready to take me ALL the places!

gas here is $4.15 a gallon. my fuel light had been on for a while. i got fifty bucks worth of gas today. so instead of feeling victorious, i felt incredibly poor, even though it wasn't even my money that i was using to fill up my car.

but i did follow a driver's education car out of the intense kroger parking lot and that was a good laugh. remember when we were timid about making left turns and yielding? oh yes.

my next stop was the bank. it's not really a bank, it's a credit union because those are infinitely better, but some people don't know what credit unions are, so i just call it the bank. (my dad calls it the credit onion. no joke.)

while driving to the bank, the classic station was playing "we built this city" so i rolled down the windows and cranked it up and i was sitting at a traffic light epically singing like WE BUILT THIS CITY ON ROCK AND ROLLLLLLLLL and then quite suddenly

i burst into tears.

this happened last summer when i was driving back from my grandparents' house and this song came on the radio that i hadn't heard in a while and then i was sobbing at a traffic light like what is my life.

cereal. i have been told that my life is cereal. i'm not going to dispute this.

so i pull up to the bank and i wipe my eyes and obviously tweet about the situation because how does that even happen? and when my face is all dry and i'm composed, i grab my four checks and my little deposit form and i head into the bank.

i'm faced with four empty teller stalls, each with a teller. which one do i choose? i don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. if i go to the guy, the other three women will think i'm being sexist. if i go to the older lady, they'll think i'm being agist.

i legitimately thought this.

so i just walked until i wound up at the far right teller with the lady that i took out a huge withdrawal for to go to england. she was super nice. so i smacked my form down, and my checks, and i said, "i'd like to deposit these into my checking account and i'd like a hundred back in cash in twenties, please."

yes, i rehearsed that.

so she's going through my checks and then she says, "what do you think about olives?"

since i've gotten through my little rehearsed speech, i've lightened up and i feel like i can do anything. i'm a big kid! i've gone to the bank! i can relax!

so i say, "i love olives." because i do. olives are delicious.

she says, "green or black?"

green, obviously. i tell her this.

another teller two stalls down asks me if i suck out the red middle before i eat them and i tell her, nah, i eat the entire olive because olives are delicious.

then my teller says, "what's your position on hotpockets?"

i've never really had a position on hotpockets. so  i smile and say, "as long as they're vegetarian friendly!"

the teller two stalls down is like, "oh, i get it, you're a vegetarian. like, vegan or something?"

so i'm like, "oh no, lacto-ovo, which means i'm down with dairy. i love cheese."

then all four of them are like, omg cheese is so fuggin' good and i'm like, tell me about it, i ate an entire block yesterday and my mom got super pissed at me because yes, i really did eat a huge amount of cheese. like, probably a good thousand calories' worth of colby jack cheese.

then the lone guy in the very last stall says, "hey guys, did you hear about the guy that drank a gallon of soy sauce and went into a coma?"

things that happen when emily goes to the bank.

(if you haven't noticed, that was the part that i really wanted to blog about. because it was totally legit. but i'm still not sure how i feel about hotpockets.)

after i went to the bank, i managed to park in the evil library parking lot to return some books, and then it was off to hobby lobby to pick up my newly framed limited edition iron and wine and glen hansard poster.

remember when i met iron and wine?


on the way to hobby lobby, i passed about eight gas stations. each gas station had dropped eleven cents.

are you kidding me?!

nope. life was not kidding.

i parked at hobby lobby next to some fancy old muscle car that was taking up four parking spots. and thus this tweet ensued:

@emilyyxh: did gas go down eleven cents ten minutes after i filled up my car? yep. is this douche taking up four parking spots? yep.

do you really think that my parking abilities are so bad that i'll hit your precious ugly muscle car? apparently.

it took me a few minutes to work up the courage to go into hobby lobby, but i remembered how badass my sandals were, so i marched in and lucky for me, the same girl that took my frame order was there, and she was like, "I REMEMBER YOU YOUR LAST NAME STARTS WITH AN H!" and she ran back to get my poster, which was cool. then i worried that she recognised me because i was wearing the same shirt that i had worn to pick out the frame. that would've been a travesty.

i waited in line with my newly framed poster behind a lady who had scored some really cheap gigantic mirrors and she was going on and on about how the circle pattern around them matched her yellow walls perfectly and she just couldn't believe that she got them on clearance.

see: me when i'm middle aged.

once i locked my poster safely in my car so hooligans that like indie folk music didn't bust into my car to take away my limited edition (and signed) iron and wine poster, i drove to target to get a bikini. because society dictates that i should wear one. and all of mine are faded. and target has cute bikinis.

my mom was like, go to kohls! and i was like, i'm twenty-two, not fifty-eight!

so i get to target and i'm texting adam about how i'm being a big kid and i'm like, ADAM THERE ARE SO MANY BIKINI CHOICES and he's like, I HATE HOW SOCIETY DICTATES THAT YOU NEED TO WEAR A BIKINI TO BE BEAUTIFUL and i was like, THIS IS WHY YOU'RE SUCH A GOOD FEMINIST and i took a picture of a bikini and he was like, I LIKE THE BROOCH and i was like, YOU KNOW WHAT A BROOCH IS THIS IS WHY YOU'RE AN AWESOME FRIEND

and it was good.

i then bought clearance exercise shorts because like, i'm doing this new thing where i work out five times a week. it's rough. today was my day off and i seriously sat on my ass and didn't do anything and i was like, wow, i'm not intensely riding a bike at the Y right now.

the clearance shorts were ugly. the only cute ones were neon yellow. so now errrybody can watch me work out. if i were remotely attractive people would be like, damn gurrrrl lift them weights and i'd probably be like, sexist pigs, stop staring at my ass while i bench this... thing.

all in all, target trip was successful.

i then sat at stop light and passionately sang justin timberlake's "mirrors" even though i have no idea what the words are, so it was mostly me being like 


successful adult day is successful. 

i just want to say that right now, while i'm typing this, it is nine oh six in the evening, and it is HELLA storming. like, nasty dark clouds and tornado warnings and all kinds of shenanigans, and my mom is like, GO IN THE BASEMENT WHERE'S IT'S SAFE

but no, i'm blogging from the second floor of my house.

bloggin' on the edge, yo. go big or go home.

if i don't blog tomorrow, i was obviously sucked out of my roof while on tumblr and i'm lying in a cornfield somewhere. still with my computer trying to get wifi.

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