Ownership

Today we will have a little discussion about ownership.

Something happened today which brought to mind an incident Sharon told me about awhile ago, where her coworker happened upon her looking at pictures on Facebook of a friend's baby. Said coworker, for some reason, assumed the baby was Sharon's, ignoring the fact that it was a newly-newborn (which would cause alerts to go off for all sorts of reasons, not least of all because why in the hell would Sharon be back at work so shortly after giving birth?) and that Sharon didn't have any pictures of said baby anywhere around her workspace (mostly because it's NOT HERS). Sharon and I guffawed about this and applied it to all sorts of things: If I look at a picture of a Porsche online, it's mine. If I look at a stack of money online, it's mine. If I look at a fancy warmblood, it's mine. Logic!

So what happened today?

I was innocently sitting in the breakroom at work, wasting my 15 minute break on my various web-addictions. I happened to be sitting next to a (rather ugly) sparkly red mini Christmas tree someone had placed on the table. A coworker comes in, and seeing the tree next to me, asks if it's mine. I also want to let you know that this is the SECOND time this week that I've been asked that question, because apparently I repeatedly make the mistake of sitting next, or in close proximity to, the tree.

What the fuck?

First of all, that tree has been in the breakroom for over a week now, minding its own business, sitting in the same spot on the table the whole time. I can't be the only person who's sat next to the tree. I can't. Yet I get asked, twice by my witless coworkers, if it's mine.

Should the theory of "if you look at it online, it must be yours" be extended to include "if you sit next to it, it must be yours"? I really hope so, because I'll make it a point to sit next to cute boys, expensive jewelry, and anything else I want but can't have.

Dear gosh.

Honestly.
Let's look a little closer at this whole scenario, and maybe put ourselves in the mind of the coworker asking me if it's mine. What logic dictates the question? Does Rebecca seem insane enough to carry around a sparkly red Christmas tree with her everywhere she goes? If Rebecca does own the tree but is not insane enough to carry it around with her, is she so insecure about its safety and well-being that whenever possible, she sits next to it so as to provide it with some stability and comfort? Wouldn't that make her even more insane? Do my coworkers really see me that way?

I'm hoping not. I'm thinking not. The two coworkers who asked me aren't exactly the brightest bulbs in the bunch. So I'm hoping.

But still.
Honestly.

"my words"

as saved by my t9word entry on my phone:
:/, :\, :C, ahh, aww, blah, brandon, calexico, couldn't, crap, cunt, damn, doggy, doke, ew, frankie, fuck, fucking, gabs, haha, haven't, hd, hehe, hmph, how's, i've, lindsay's, long-lost, longgggg, mcd, nah, olga's, okie, omg, ouch, peggah, peggah's, pissed, pres-elect, sharon's, she's, shermrock, shit, ss, tipper (this one has me at a loss... I don't recall ever typing a text message about Tipper Gore, which is the only logical explanation I can think of for ever typing "tipper"), txts, ugly-cute, wasn't, wouldn't, wtf, yay, you'd

I love how the only emoticons are ones depicting sadness, awkwardness, or general meh-ness. And I don't know why it saved "shermrock" but not shermrock's surname, "fuckface." Also, I used Calexico all of once. Hmm.


Now, for your fapping pleasure, I present you with Rebecca's Updated and Probably Complete For A While List of Totally Lustworthy Chefs and Cooks!


1. Anthony Bourdain.
Hello? Maybe you're like most of my friends and find the picture of him nude with a GIANT BONE in front of his dude-hooha appalling, but if you're cool and NOT like them, you can find it in the book My Last Supper. Aside from the myriad pleasurable hallucinations this picture (and admittedly, other, more appropriate pictures) has given me, I like the dude because he is a straight-talking, no-shit, son of a bitch, and that is commendable. I also like him because he loves Kraft Mac n Cheese when stoned. I love Kraft Mac n Cheese any time, so we'll figure out a compromise. I also wouldn't mind sharing a plate of, like, hagfish or bull pizzle or something with him, and that's saying a lot for me. Must-try recipe: Scrambled Eggs with Smoked Nova Scotia Salmon, Chives and Creme Fraiche, with Osetra Caviar on Buckwheat Blini - hello amazing!!


2. Johnny Iuzzini.
Unlikely pastry magnate and rough 'n' ready sexpot. I first saw him on, of all things, Paula Deen's show. (sidebar: I abhor Paula Deen and all of her Southern-fried cooking because every single episode I've seen of the show consists of slathering something in butter or straight-up lard and deep-frying the ever-living-fuck out of it. For a Thanksgiving ep I caught once, she sliced up canned cranberry jelly, fried the slices, and covered them in sugar. To me, that screams "trailer trash cuisine" more than anything else, but whatever floats, I guess. I digress.) The only good thing Paula Deen has ever done for me is to introduce me to his tattooed ass (well, I can only assume). He can bake me a cake, any day of the week. Preferably Mondays. Must-try recipe: Warm Honey Tart, Grapefruit-shiso granite & charred oranges (though I wonder if mayhaps blood oranges would be even awesomer).



3. Jamie Oliver.
Hi. He's British. I don't think much more needs to be said. If every American household kitchen came equipped with a Naked Chef, we wouldn't eat so much fucking fast food. I'm fairly confident of this. I can't vouch for the validity of this story but rest assured, I'm not the only one would've been more than happy to rub some aloe on that. Oh yeah, his recipes are pretty awesome, too. Must-try recipe: Asparagus, Mint and Lemon Risotto sounds amazing to me right now.


4. Tyler Florence
Looks like a nice, friendly, awesome dude. Unfortunately also looks like any number of my old crushes, and one really really assholeish friend-of-a-friend, but kitchen skills crush unfortunate look-a-likes in my contest. Dude shops for potatoes with the cutest "determined" face I've ever seen. Must-try recipe: Crispy Parmesan Butternut Squash Chips. Holla!


5. Rocco Dispirito
I don't really know much about this dude or his cooking (or his dancing since he was apparently on Dancing with the Stars), but he is some serious GQ-worthy eye candy. He seems like he might be a little bit of a douchebag because of aforementioned calculatedly smokin' good looks, but for a man who can cook, we can let that slide. For the record, that is why I put him in slot #5. Must-try recipe: Blueberry Pomegranate Consomme with Whipped Cream Fraiche. He had me at Froot Loops.

Disqualified for blatant meanness: Gordon Ramsey
Disqualified for blatant trying-too-hard-ness: Guy Fieri
Disqualified for TGI Friday's affiliation: Guy Fieri
Disqualified for blatant annoyingness: Emeril Lagasse
Disqualified for neglecting to take me to Spain to be a part of Spain, a Culinary Road Trip: Mario Batali, Mark Bittman
Disqualified for being Paula Deen's sons: Paula Deen's sons

So there you have it, 2008's list.

hmm.

Boss-type people (store manager, as well as District Manager, and Regional Manager) are talking about me just a few tables away from where I sit.

Interesting.

I've always wanted to be a fly on the wall!

Results

Last week when I was on campus I saw a flier for a free depression screening, which I thought was this Wednesday. I've been feeling pretty blue lately so I decided to do it, and came up to school today with the intention of taking the test or whatever it is, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Got to school, can't find a booth or anything so hop on my trusty Mac to look it up on the OU website.

It was last month.

I don't know my months, apparently.

It's not that surprising to me.

Just another disappointment in a string of failures.

I took a few online screeners. "Your results are consistent with moderately severe depression." "Your results are consistent with anxiety disorder." At least I'm consistent with something.

Next up on the docket: find free or low-cost help. This probably won't be easy, as I have no money and no health insurance. I've thought about doing this for awhile, since before Nate and I broke up, but never did. This month I can't make rent, I have an eighth of a tank of gas and no money to fill it, just got some stuff out of pawn that it looks like will have to go back in so I can fill aforementioned gas tank and my tummy, I'm probably going to fail all my classes, I can't get enough sleep, I eat like shit, I'm sitting here in the OC trying not to cry for reasons unbeknownst to me, and I generally don't care.

So, it's time.

That having been said, at least one thing is going right for me. For now. I'll probably mess that up too.

Time to fix me.

In other news, I took a Colorgenics quiz which told me the following about myself:

You have exaggerated demands on life but you are cautious enough to try to hide these beliefs from the outside world. You are covert enough to try to impress other people around you with your achievements and at the same time able to put on an act of pretending to be 'humble' - being the same as everyone else. It would appear, however, that whatever you are doing seems to be working out O.K.

You like the better things in life. You are sensuous and emotional. You are a follower of the Arts and you seek an environment that will give you the fulfilment to the senses that you need.

You know what you want and you are very dogmatic and demanding - especially in your emotional demands. You have specific ideas and beliefs and if these beliefs are not realised you can become extremely frustrated. You may not be that perfect but you are looking for perfection with the perfect partner.

Unacceptable restrictions have been forced upon you and this is resulting in severe frustration and stress. You are looking for independence and consequently you shy away from any restriction and avoid obligations of anything which might prove hampering. You are being subjected to considerable pressure and want to escape from it so that you can obtain what you need, but unfortunately at this particular moment in time you lack the necessary strength of purpose to succeed in this.

You seem to be always on the defensive and that is because you have failed to establish yourself in a manner consistent with your own high opinion of yourself. You are trying to prove yourself with inadequate resources and this has resulted in considerable stress. You are trying to escape from these excessive demands on your reserves by adopting a defensive attitude in which you refuse to be committed or to be involved in further unpleasantness.

I'm not sure what Colorgenics is, and it's probably the kind of New Age-y bullshit malarkey I love to mock, but that seemed pretty accurate. Could just be that I'm really susceptible to suggestion, though. It probably is that. I still read my horoscopes, too.

Thank you, America.

Thank you.