Stuff Rachel Fucking Hates

Wheeeeeeeee this is Friday’s post happening on a Monday night, enjoy children

Have we mentioned yet that graduating from college is weird I am reminded (and this is shocking) of my high school graduation. We had an “all night graduation party” sponsored by the school, where they drove us around on a school bus all night to different pizza places and such to save us from binge drinking. By the time it was over at 6 am I was tired and whiny and just wanted to sleep in my mom’s car for a few hours before having to go to someone’s fucking graduation party. It was only after I left that I realized I was actually literally never going to see 90% of those people again, like ever in my life, and felt weird pangs of nostalgia for the douchebag in 11th grade English who tried to convince me the ziploc bag of tarragon in his backpack was weed, and wished that I had stuck around for fifteen minutes to take it all in. I feel that way now – like this is important somehow probably, in the really relative way that things are “important” to overeducated white girls ,and I wish I could appreciate it. But mostly I don’t, mostly I just want to do the things I always do, like bake bread and go to bed early and complain about how much my back hurts. Heather is out at some senior week event tonight that involves late-night drunk bowling or something, because she is a more functional human being than I am. I have just baked some bread, and will probably be asleep before midnight.

I am so tired of applying to jobs The thing is that my disinterest shows, and with each application my projected level of professionalism decreases. In two weeks I will be sending potential employers Facebook messages that say “as you can see from the “work info” section of my profile, i have a lot of internship experience. look forward to hearing from you.”

I am actually literally dumber than my phone I just got a new phone, a “smart” one, and it would probably actually score higher than me on an IQ test. I told the woman at the Verizon store that I wanted “a thing I could tweet from” and within the first 12 hours of owning it searched the app market for “food.” I am so bad at typing on the on-screen keyboard that it takes me a full two minutes to type out the average text message.   I worry that the phone may actually be sentient, and is judging me. On the other hand, it has a barcode scanner application, which I have not actually thought of a use for yet but is cool.

I am so bad at keeping in touch Example: tonight was the first time it has even crossed my mind in a serious way that I should finally write back to the close friend who sent me a beautiful and thorough letter about two and a half months ago. [Sometimes I feel like] I wouldn’t like me if I met me.

Detroit police shot Aiyana Stanley Jones in the head.  She was seven years old. Read the post about it over on Feministing. If you’re keeping a tally sheet somewhere of “black children caught in the crossfire of the police’s war on their community,” add one to it. As Adrienne Maree Brown says in her post, “can we admit that we don’t know anything about how to be the kind of society where this could never happen?”

Seriously my back hurts all the fucking time I’m afraid to tell my mom and have her fix it because she’ll yell at me for having such bad posture. I know I have bad posture, it’s awful. But standing right is really hard. It wasn’t a huge problem until I got this job where I’m on my feet for eight hours at a time, and honestly that shit is exhausting. It’s too embarrassing to ask my boss if I can do some work sitting down because I have back pain. Like, if I were her I would roll my eyes.

I keep having alarmingly consumerist dreams In one I was going shopping for a new phone with my mother, a real event which has since actually happened. In the dream, all the phones we looked at were way more expensive than I expected, like thousands of dollars, but we were going to buy one anyways. In another, I was checking my bank account balance to see if I had enough money to cover the rent check I just wrote (also a true event) and was upset to find I didn’t because I had just made a $75 purchase of discount designer clothing at ideeli.com.

Slashing bread loaves right is really hard, you guys One of these days, though.

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3 Comments

Filed under Rachel

3 responses to “Stuff Rachel Fucking Hates

  1. emma

    we had a graduation party at my high school, too. i got into it with a magician. it was bad.

    • Heather

      we had a “senior banquet” at a hotel, which was basically like prom except the dress code was only semi-formal and there was a senior slideshow. it was a good time! everyone was given a free cereal-bowl-sized mug that said the school’s name on the side.

  2. andrew

    i skipped my “senior night” and watched turner classic movies all night.

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