New Years Resolutions...

Here's the deal...I hate New Years resolutions. I find them extremely over-sentimental and dumb. Personally, I really have a hard time understanding why in the world someone would wait until a certain date my make a change in their lives. Why not just wake up one morning, and say to yourself, "Today, I'm going to take the first step to becoming a healthy eater"
I think the whole idea of "Today is the day I begin my new life!" is so totally over-dramatic, and much too Hollywood for me. Most of the time, I do not make New Years resolutions...especially since I'm the kind of person who freaks out and makes all these long term goals for myself that are completely impossible to accomplish, and I end up driving myself batty trying to accomplish them. Therefore, I try really hard to be realistic and to take life one step at a time. New Years resolutions have potential to turn me into a nut-case.

In the past, when I have made New Years resolutions, they have been stupid joke resolutions. One year, my resolution was to accumulate at least 100 new CD's in the New Years. The next year, my New Years resolution was to learn to speak like a black girl and use my knew lingo as much as possible. One year I resolved to learn how to speak cat (I think I was pretty hopped up on sugar when I made this one)

So, true to tradition, I will share with you a few of the things I'VE resolved to do, in 2009.

1. Paint my toe-nails a different color for each 365 days in the good ol' year of 2009.
2. Learn all the words to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, and recite them daily at a predetermined time I will decide upon at a later time.
3. Become better at procrastinating (This one I might get around to later...)
4. Give an entire speech speaking in a British accent, and then take a survey to see how many people bought it.
5. Crap out a turd measuring in at at least seven inches in length, and three inches in diameter.


2008, you were kind of a jerk, but that's ok, because I loved you all the same. Here's to '09!!

I am not qualified for this position...

I don't understand why boys constantly ask me for relationship advice. Girls do, too, don't get me wrong. It's just mainly boys. I'll get these messages on FB Chat describing all the long and gory details of their love life...or lack there of. It baffles me. It's like, somebody posted a bulletin containing false information that I'm an expert in this field. I'm not. Not in the least, little, tiniest speck of a way am I an expert. In fact, I am so under qualified it's not even funny. It should be considered a federal offense for me to give out relationship advice, because I have no idea how to make a real relationship work. I have trouble even making friendships work - excluding all the mushy gushy I love you's. I'm completely dysfunctional when it comes to the opposite sex. So why are you asking me what you should do to make this girl like you? Why are you asking me my opinion? Maybe you should come to me when you've just gotten dumped...then I might know what to tell you, because I sure as heck know about getting dumped...a heck of a lot more than I know about relationships. Actually, scratch that, maybe you shouldn't, because I've been rejected enough times that at this point, I don't want to hear your whiny story because I've got about three for every one that you have. I'll probably just tell you to pull up your big boy/girl pants, grow up, and move on. I'm pretty mean like that.

In fact, I don't understand why people ask me for advice period. I don't really think I'm that good at giving it. Most of the time, I just pull crap out of my butt on what I think might work in their situation. I have no real idea or real experience that might give me an idea on how to solve a problem. I just know how to live with problems. That's all. It's like, one second it'll be just joking around, hi how are you's, being a dork, and the next minute, they've bared their whole soul to me, and I'm standing there with my mouth gaping open because I can't even remember how we got from joking about our fat butts, or talking about music to all of your suppressed feelings. I'm completely uncomfortable with people telling me their problems. It makes me feel awkward - in fact, I'm so much a narcisist that it irritates me when people tell me their problems because it means I can't keep going on and on about mine. Isn't that horrible? Does that sound like the kind of person you'd want to ask advice from? No. Not to me, at least. People tell me all the time "You're sooo easy to talk to!" Personally, I think I come off as a distant angry looking witch. Apparently, that's not the case.

What's so weird about it, is it's not even people I know really well a lot of the times asking me for advice - it's people I've talked to like, twice before in my entire life. I don't know, maybe people think I'm really good at the advice thing since I got dumped in possibly the most horrible way anyone could ever get dumped in about a year ago, and that automatically makes me a caring and compassionate person - newsflash...it doesn't. All it does is make me pity you less because I know what it's like to get dumped, and honestly there are worse things in the world than your little girlfriend breaking up with you for some stud...really, you'll be fine. Trust me. In a few weeks you'll be chasing someone elses skirt. Believe me.

What bugs me the most is when people say things like "I think we really had something" or "We connected so deeply" or even "They were my everything" and I'll start to feel a little dwelling of compassion take occupancy in my soul, and I"ll ask them "Oh no, how long were you dating for"
Then they'll raise their eyebrows, and say "Well, let's see...about three months"

Three months? Please. That's bull. You didn't have something. You didn't connect deeply. They most certainly were not your everything. Just because you made out for three months straight (and when I say that, I mean that's ALL you did for three months) doesn't mean that you've been cut deeply in your soul. I dated a guy for two years. Two years. That's a heck of a long time. At least for high-school relationships it is, anyway. I was convinced I was getting an engagement ring for Christmas...and instead I got the boot. And I got over it...if I can get over it, then you can deary, so suck it up. THAT'S my advice.

Now pull up your panties and shut up because I don't want to hear it anymore.

Now, it also dawns on me that sometimes boys do this to draw a girls attention. Now, I don't knwo what kind of a sick and sorry idiot you are, but I'm not the girl to be playing the sympathy card on, as you can probably tell by now. I'm not going to feel sorry for you. Chances are, I'm going to be creeped out by you. How about you try talking to me by...hmm...let's see...asking me about myself. I love talking about myself. It's true. I'm not afraid to admit it. It's one of my favorite past-times. Or maybe, just maybe, you could tell me a funny joke. That might work, too.
You don't have to come up with some sick and twisted scheme to endear me to you, especially since it's not going to work. Go play that trick on the next stupid sap.

So, in conclusion, I'd like to let everyone know, that if you ask me for relationship advice, you need to know that I'm completely incapable of making any kind of a relationship work. IN FACT, the only relationships I ever had, I either A.) Acted like a crazy maniac B.) Felt that I needed to share the horrible truths of my acting like a crazy maniac on the first date, therefore scaring Mr. Wonderful off or C.) Decided that because Mr. Wonderful wasn't an angsty rock star, I didn't like him...

So, before you ask me for relationship advice, please consider that I can't make a relationship work myself. I'm happy to advice you, but your relationship will probably crash and burn if you take my advice. You have been warned.

I'm getting tired of carrying around other people's old burdens. Burdens I didn't even earn. I did nothing to receive them.
So maybe it's time that I throw them away.
I think I will.
So maybe somewhere along the road, they'll find them again. Then they can know what it's like to carry around a heavy burden - heck, maybe I'll tie a couple of my own burdens onto theirs so that they know what it's like to carry around someone else's burden, too. I could use a few less burdens.

But I don't think I will...add my own that is.
See, I'm strong enough to carry my burdens...especially because they're the right kind of burdens...especially since I know that when I can't handle my burdens, I can cast them on someone who IS strong enough to take them. See, I can carry my cross, even when others can't.

So, I hope you find your burdens that I'm dumping off...or rather, I hope they find you. In fact, I'm sure they will. That's the funny thing about burdens...they always find their way back to you when you make other people carry them.

Oh yeah, and one more thing.

I'm done.

See ya.

Sincerely,
Always,
Never Yours,
Aubree.

Update on the BOYFRIEND aspect of Journeys of a jobless, boyfriendless college student...

No, I don't have a boyfriend. I know, I know, you read the title and you were like "HURRAH! AUBREE IS NO LONGER A LOSER!"
Or not.

For humorous purposes, I wanted to give you a brief history of my love life.

First let me tell you that I have this odd attraction to guys with strange last names. I'm going to give each boy code names (except maybe a couple) so that if they ever stumble across this they don't die of horror.

My very first crush:

I will reveal his real name to you, because I don't think I'll ever contact him again in my entire life. His name was Danny Dingledien. When I tell people that, they don't believe me. They're like "Wasn't that the name of some cartoon character's first crush?" and I tell them, no. No, it is not. Danny and I were soul mates. It's true. When I was four years old, I laid eyes on his beautiful blond head and instantly fell in love. Danny bought me Pound Puppies for my 5th birthday. He also came up to me once at Wednesday night kids club to ask me how I was doing. We were about 1 step away from becoming boyfriend and girlfriend...until one day the evil seductress Jana (name changed for privacy purposes *snicker*) STOLE HIM AWAY FROM ME. They would sit underneath the play-dough table and play house, and she would pretend to shoot me with a gun while I sat quietly on the bench waiting for Danny to come back to me - WHERE HE BELONGED. Then one day, Danny moved away. It was one of the saddest days of my child-hood.

My First Substantial Crush:

When I was in Junior High, my family and I left our old church and went to a new one where I met the love of my life - the apple of my eye - the first guy I ever truly had any kind of a real interest in - let's call him...Dennis. Dennis and I had something. He liked me and I liked him. It was meant to be. It would last forever. Until a blond bombshell popped out of nowhere and stole him from me (figures). I really really liked Dennis. This crush lasted probably around 3 years (it was one of those on again off again things). I think I was about 14 or 15 before I stopped liking him. Everything would've worked out perfectly. Dennis and I spoke every day. We were best friends...except for the fact that Dennis had a massive crush on my best friend, and was totally using me to get to her. Little did I know, Dennis and my best friend were having make out fests every Saturday night while I sat at home and wrote in my diary about my pathetic life and how beautiful Dennis was even though he was a total jerk. Dennis soon realized that my best friend was a total skank and was making out with like, 4 other guys at the same time she was making out with him, and Dennis dumped her for another girl who dumped him for her old boyfriend. Well, I didn't care by then, because I had already moved onto the pinnacle of my love life thus far...and when I say pinnacle, I mean the most horrendous, disgusting part of it.

My first SERIOUS Boyfriend:

When I was 15 and a half years old, I met, and started dating a guy...well...I think the most appropriate name to give him would be...Dick.

Yes.

Dick suits him well.

Anyway, Dick was my first serious boyfriend. We dated for about two years and thought we were going to get married and junk. It was US AGAINST THE WORLD. and NOTHING COULD STOP US. and IT DIDN'T MATTER WHAT THEY SAID, WE'D PROVE THEM WRONG! also, OUR LOVE WAS STRONGER THAN THEIRS, and THEY DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TRUE LOVE WAS BECAUSE THEY'RE OLD.
Dick and I went through very many stages. There was like "*Giggle*Ilikeyou*giggle*" stage.
Then there was the "lakshgluhawough" which basically stands for sucking each others faces all the time stage. After that, there was the baby talk phase where we only spoke to each other in baby talk. Then there was the "I'm going to act like an idiot around you all the time, because I'm immature" phase. We insisted on spending every moment of every day together. I was restless without him by my side (oh gosh, BARF).
Then, one day, Dick went to college.
That's where Dick met two of his homo friends, who he wanted to have gay homo sex with (ok, I'm exaggerating a little here...BUT THIS IS FOR LITERARY PURPOSES), so, as it always goes, Dick decides to stand true to his name and dump me two weeks before Christmas by telling me that he still wanted to be my best friend, that he still wanted me to go to the college which he was going to, which he basically stole from me because I'd wanted to go there since I was 10 years old, and that he'd call me all the time. Then he sent me a nasty email telling me to stop contacting him even though I never called him and emailed him twice because I wanted my crap back from his pyschotic parent's house. The last time I saw him was when he decided to bring his girlfriend to MY church, which he no longer goes to and rub my nose in it. I wonder if she knows he's having gay homo sex? Whoops! Shame on you Aubree. Bad. Bad Aubree.

My Current Love Adventures.

My First Crush After My First Relationship:

Was, as it always is, absolutely massive, and absolutely ridiculas. No joke. I don't even need to give this guy a name. We're really good friends now, and nothing came out of it, but I like, drooled over him for like ever. It's actually not even worth mentioning.

My First DATE after My First Relationship:

Was with a guy named Ican'tmakeupmymindbecausemybodyistoolargetoevenreallytrulyhaveamind. Ok, that wasn't his name, but oh well. His name is Joe, and I'm only saying his name because I don't care if he stumbles across this because I actually have some somewhat nice things to say about him after the horrible things I'm about to say. Joe's like, huge. He's a football player at the college he goes to. That's basically why I liked him. And his last name is weird. See, weird magnetic forces attract me to guys with strange last names. Anyway, we went on like, one date, emailed a ton, and yeah. First let me describe our first date.
1. He takes me to like, some cheap nasty family restaurant where the cheeseburgers are disgusting. Just for the record, I'm the queen of the cheeseburger. Cheeseburgers are my one true love. He doesn't pick me up, he meets me there, which is cool, except I get there like, exactly on time, and I get the feeling that he's been waiting there for me desperately for like, a good 20 minutes, because he's got this look of sheer terror written on his face like he was petrified I wouldn't show. So when he see's me walk through the door, his whole entire dumb face lights up - and you know how I feel about people adoring me - I love it, so I was sucked in.
2. He was oddly sweaty. Like...weirdly so. Not just overly nervous. As if his largeness was just overtaking him and he couldn't like...I don't know...be coolish.
3. We go see a movie, which we both had already seen (isn't that stupid? I don't know why we made that choice...), and he starts playing the...should I hold her hand game? I find this extremely hilarious, because a lot of guys have played this game with me. He'd gradually move his arms from a crossed on his chest position, to resting on his thighs. Then, ever so subtly, he'll move his hand closest to mine closer to mine off his thigh. He'll even reach for my hand a few times, but chicken out and retreat, only to start all over again. Now, a nice person would just do him a favor and reach out and grab his hand, but I find it totally hilarious to let him sweat it out because I'm such a little wench like that and I don't even care. So he FINALLY grabs my hand, and I grab his back, and his arm is like, stiffer than a plank. Like, he's so tense.
4. He totally went in for a kiss, and I totally deflected it by hugging him and burrying my face in his chest. I hate first date kissers. Actually, I don't kiss at all anymore. I don't like kissing. No guy unless he gives me an expensive peice of jewelery is worthy of touching my lips with his. No way, no how. Sorry, wrong answer. You do not pass go, you do not get 200 dollars.

So then, we email for a week and plan to go on another date, when he calls me and pretty much breaks it off with me, except he doesn't really, he tells me he wants to get to know me more as a friend before we officially start dating. Then, he texts me over the weekend, and then I text him like a couple days later, then get an email telling me he isn't interested anymore. The next thing I know, he's changed his relationship status to in a relationship with another girl named slutty mcslutpants. I'm just kidding. I'm sure she's an awesome girl.

My point is, I actually really respected Joe for being so upfront about his feelings. Like, you're going to feel what you feel, and if you liked this other girl more than me, I sure as heck don't want to be dating a guy who's only dating me because he feels like he has to follow through. I want to be with a guy who wants to be with me (surprise, surprise, right?). So no skin off my bones. So Joe, if you ever truly read this (even though I was totally jerky and unfriended you on Facebook. It was honestly because I got sick of seeing your relationship news pop up on my newsfeed), please know that I think you're a pretty cool guy, but obviously not the right guy for me...and that's good, because I'm not the right girl for you. I wish you all the luck in life. Thanks for being honest. You saved me a heck of a lot of mushyness and heartache that was completely unneccesary.

Then I Got Really Desperate...

Here's the thing about being a nanny...you spend your entire days with little kids. When you watch little kids, you begin to feel like an overweight house wife who doesn't even have someone going to work to buy her expensive things. So, I got a little desperate, and I clicked on an add I saw on Facebook for "woome.com"
I was just "looking" when a guy's message popped up on my screen. Now, being that I'm such a little jerk, I decided I wanted to flirt, so I start messaging him, and I find out he's in the Navy. Now, to me that seems safe because there's no way I'm going to get into a relationship with a dude who's about to be shipped off. Well, it turns out that Navy creeper guy is in Chicago until November something, and he asks me if I want to meet him downtown to hang out.

I deleted my account and swore off internet dating.

And then I met that guy who was an idiot who I say "hi" to and dumped him which I realized was actually really redeeming for reasons that are too complicated to go into.

And now, I have no one. Except for a guy who I think is kind of cute who goes to one of the bible studies at my school (No, it's not CRU, so if any of the CRU guys who are totally curshing [and I know you are] read this, don't get your hopes up), and this other guy who would be absolutely perfect except for the fact that the second he opens up his mouth he sounds gay - but he says he's not. It's really confusing.

There have also been a series of guys in between that I rejected for stupid reasons. In fact, they are so pathetic, I will list them for you.

1. They don't understand the proper usage of you're/your.
2. They're short.
3. They like me too much
4. I don't like Pollocks
5. They said something once that slightly resembled something my ex boyfriend would've said.
6. They like the Packers.
7. They like the White Sox.
8. They're too Christian
9. They aren't Christian enough

You get the picture.

So, based on all of that history, I've come to the conclusion that I don't want a boyfriend right now because I know I'm going away to school next year and I don't want to be tied down. Isn't that horrible?

Who knows.

I don't know if I'll ever get this whole thing figured out. All I know is that I'm so glad I'll never be the future Aubree Dingledein.

You know what day it is, don't you?

And maybe I will...who knows. Why is there always one in here that reflects me future love life? I'm such a sorry old sap. ;-)


My parents told me the truth about Santa. I'm perfectly functionladghlgaglhlal. Sorry. Some of my drool fell on the keyboard and it made it too slippery for me to type.
This made me laugh
Really hard.

I'll keep you, my dirty little secret

Not. Who listens to Fall Out Boy anymore, anyway?

Another volume of "Things I Hate"

Dear Obnoxiously Slow Driver,

It's not that I have a problem with you. I don't have a problem with your massive mini van in which you obviously do not know how to drive - I don't even mind the HUGE, OBNOXIOUS sticker on your bumper that says "SOCCER MOM'S RULE!" or "MOM'S FOR OBAMA 08"...
Mainly what I have a problem with are two things.
1. Don't pull out in front of me in traffic, especially when there's absolutely no one behind me for at least another half of a mile. Just wait the extra 10 seconds it will take for me to pass.
2. Once upon a time, in driving school, you should have learned that the LEFT LANE, is NOT for drivers that like going 10 miles under the speed limit. If you don't feel comfortable going 45-50 on North Avenue, then you need to pull into the right lane, dear, where people can pass you. It's a three lane high-way, and there's no reason why you can't drive in another lane.

Sincerely,
Aubree E. Redmond

This is an outrage!

I am really upset because I just found out that the lyrics to Amelia's Missing by Jon McLaughlin are not "I can't find crazy ho's, I can't find notchwatch"

They are actually

"I can't find crazy horse, I can't find Hoffa"

What the heck? I don't even know why I thought that lyrics were about crazy whores and something called notchwatch. I think I should get my ears checked.

This might be one of the saddest days of my life. Who listens to lyrics anymore, anyway?

There are some postings that are secret...but not really.

I feel bad - like a horrible person, but I found this so hilarious.
"I'm super sneak about it. Really kind of proud of it. No one's butt is safe from my sneaky check-outage"
And I'm diggin' the Juno background there. Even though I didn't really like Juno.
Especially when it's a GUY stranger, who has a very strong resemblance to Cary Grant.



No comment necessary. :)Yes - please do. I don't know who you are. I don't know where you are, but I do wish you would make it here by Christmas, just so that you could kiss me under the mistle-toe...on the cheek, that is.
;-)

I love emoticons. They make the internet so much more expressive.

Good-night.

www.postsecret.com

Click-it or ticket.

I don't think nature wants me to get a job...

UPDATE:
Number of applications I filled out and turned in today: 2 - Starbucks in Glen Ellyn and Barnes and Noble in Wheaton Town Square
Number of applications I decided I would only turn in if I was desperate: Einsteins. I don't really like bagels that much.
Number of call backs: Zip. Zilch. Nada.


I picked up applications to three places on Saturday - Starbucks, Barnes and Noble, and Einsteins. As stated above, I decided not to turn in Einsteins unless I was desperate. I don't really know why, so don't ask. I got a weird vibe about the application or something. Anyway, yesterday I was tired and had to finish a paper, so I didn't get a chance to finish the applications and turn them in. I vowed to do it today. Sometime between yesterday and last night, the skies opened up and dumped 5 inches of snow on the ground. Five inches, no biggie right? Wrong. Upon the first substantial snow fall, it seems that every single person in the city of Chicago and surrounding suburbs forgets how to drive in though snow (even though they've done it their entire lives most likely...) and the streets suddenly become the demolition derby. I strongly precaution any new comers to the Chicagoland area to stay off the roads on the first day of the first snow, unless you want to die or something. I was determined though, so I grabbed two Christmas cards my mom wanted me to mail for her, and my applications and headed out into the great unknown. I know how to drive in the snow, for the record, so I arrived to my destination a little slower than usual, but unscathed.
I drop off my first application, at Starbucks, and the guy who is so nice and I think might find me cute gave me a free drink which is always one of my favorite things to receive.
I exit, walk past my car and to the mail box on the corner, drop the mail in the slot, and start walking back, when I hear...
"Chirp...Chirp..." and suddenly see a large green and white dropping falling from the sky. Yes, it was bird poop, and, in slow motion of course, it proceeded to drop from the sky, directly onto my freshly laundered favorite pair of jeans. It also clipped the side of my free coffee cup.
I stare in unbelief at the fresh piece of bird crap that is now conveniently clinging to my pants, and slowly dripping in a downward motion. I'm not even sure that I got angry about it until I got in the car and the complete realization hit me that I still had yet to drop off another job application, and I really did need to do it that day. The problem is that walking into a store to drop off an application with bird doodies all over my pants probably does not leave the best impression.
So if I get a call back from Barnes and Noble, I will be thoroughly awed.

Yes, nature does not want me to get a job.