That shit writes itself

I am pigeon toed. Of all my body flaws, this is the one I hate the most. I didn’t even realize it until I was 16 or 17, now it’s all I can think about.

I feel like I am capable of so much more than I actually accomplish. I am fucking brilliant sometimes. But brilliance doesn’t count as much as action.

I have several notebooks I carry around, each serving a different purpose. One is for my ideas for themillionizer.com. Another one is for my brilliant ideas. And another one is for art project ideas. One more is for things I want/need to do. Yet another one is for miscellaneous purposes. I don’t carry them all around all the time, but I really feel like I should consolidate them all. For example, I’ll have themillionizer.com notebook on me but I’ll have an art project idea. Then I’ll go to write it down and the words, “Oh I can’t write it in this one, it’s not the right notebook,” WILL ACTUALLY GO THROUGH MY HEAD. So I wind up not writing it down for pretty much the stupidest reason ever.

Today is Dr. Martin Luther King Day. I just assumed I didn’t have work today, I didn’t even really check. The school down the street from me says there is no school, so I figured it was universal. Plus, even if I did have work today and didn’t show up, someone would call me all pissed off wondering where I was. It’s 11:30 and no such thing has happened.

My mom and dad are divorced and have been since I was two. I have absolutely no anger towards either of them. I know the divorce was best for everyone involved, including me. I talk to my dad every two months or so. Suffice to say, he doesn’t really know me very well. He’s been asking me the same questions since I can remember. He asked what I wanted for Christmas and I said a tea kettle. He responded by saying, “I didn’t know you drank tea.” That’s like saying, “I didn’t know you sometimes grill chicken.” Of course not, how would you? While I was talking to him yesterday, I had a sudden and sharp fear of his death for two reasons. When he dies I will know that I didn’t do my very best to make and keep contact with him and let him get to know me. And, seeing as I am his only child, I am probably listed as his beneficiary. The thought of having to go through his things once he dies is terrifying. It would be like going through the possessions of a stranger who has all your pictures on the wall. Also, I have never been to my dad’s current house. He has lived there for over 10 years.

My cat humps things. Mostly blankets and pillows. When we throw him off he gets really irate. But the best part is when you can see his kitty boner bobbing up and down, and then he licks it. We really frown on him doing it when company is around but secretly it’s pretty funny.

Tomorrow is my first day back at work in over three weeks. And although I could definitely use the money, the thought of going back is like two hands wrapped tightly around my neck.

My senior year in high school my mom had a hysterectomy and due to a persistent fever, she had to stay in the hospital about a week. I convinced her to let me stay by myself. On the first day our refrigerator died. I didn’t want to tell her because she would have made me stay at a friends house. So I cleaned the refrigerator out, salvaged what I could, got the beach cooler out and bought 20lbs of ice. I kept the cooler on the counter and conveniently drained it over the sink. Every day after school I would swing by the grocery store and pick up an extra 5lbs of ice. Sir Chinko and I spent a lot of time with Lolita’s and her carne asada burritos/California fries/taquitos. On the fourth day, my mom’s good friend found out, picked me up and took me to Sear’s. I picked out a refrigerator and she bought it, just like that. She also paid $100 extra so they would deliver it the same day. She never even mentioned the money. My mom has tried to pay her back and all she will say is, “No, that’s what friends do.” That was the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for me. That whole situation is also simultaneously hilarious and sad. I mean I lived out of a cooler! It still brings a smile to my face. But also, I lived out of a cooler. A tiny voice says, “awww,” every time.

This is pretty funny. If you like fake gay boybands who only sing about dicks. Yup yup.

The Millionizer decides this is where it ends.