My name is Olga, and I am a Water Buffalo...

Hey guys, so first off, I recently wrote a guest post, which is pretty exciting. It was featured on Caroline Clemmon's blog, and you can check it out Here. My New Year's Resolutions need some work. I can live with that, though, and still not make any revisions to them. I'm quite content with mediocrity, thank you very much.

I hate when I say something stupid and make everything uncomfortable. Don't make me seem weird; you know you've done it, too. Everyone does, except maybe unicorns, because they don't talk, but if they did, I'm fairly sure they would never say anything that wasn't one hundred and ten percent relevant, or ingenious, or hysterically funny. Here's my favorite awkward situation to create:
Me: Oh God, you know what name I hate? Olga; it's horrid. It sounds like warthogs molesting chimpanzees in a construction zone.
Other Person: Olga was my great aunt's dead cat's name. She was an orphan and my great aunt adopted her. Her hind legs got run over by a doughnut truck when she was living in the projects, and now she uses a motorized power scooter to get around, and my great aunt brings her to kitty therapy to get over her fear of doughnuts, too.
Me: Oh, well it's a delightful name for a cat... I just meant that it's a terrible name for people.
Other Person: It's my middle name, too...
Me: Did I say people? I meant water buffaloes... So, uhh, I'll talk to you later...

And this is how I unintentionally offend people. Please tell me I'm not the only one who does this... Anyone? Well, in case you do, here's one possible way to get out of it:

Maybe they won't notice?

Illogical Thoughts That I Still Think

I vastly over think everything that ever happens. People have actually asked me what's wrong with me, because someone asks me how I am, and I spend ten minutes thinking, "Did they know I was mad? How did they know? I bet they know WHY I'm mad. Wait, that's impossible. What if I'm being really obvious? I should act like nothing is wrong... just in case." I'm a whack job, and I am one hundred percent aware of this, so no need for reminders. Most of the thoughts I have are completely illogical, and I know perfectly well that they could never happen, but that won't stop me from thinking it. I could go on for days about my reoccurring illogical thoughts, but I'll narrow it down to just a few.
1. I'm Going To Die When The Satellite Signal Is Lost
I'm not addicted to television, despite how this sounds. It's those times when I lose the satellite signal at three AM and I'm up by myself and the TV screen goes black. I can only assume the girl from The Ring will appear on my TV, leaving me with only one week left to live. This thought remains in the back of my mind until The Nanny comes back on TV, and I will realize that I've never been so overjoyed to hear Fran Drescher's voice before that moment. Thanks for the false alarm, DISH.
2. People Can Hear My African Tribal Music/Ke$ha
Just because I like Marilyn Manson doesn't mean Ke$ha isn't allowed on my iPod, and if you look in my direction one more time, I'm going to assume you can faintly hear me listening to her through my headphones, and I'll have to go through my entire explanation of why I have TiK ToK on my iPod even though I can't stand Ke$ha. When my teacher permits iPods during an exam, I keep my music at such a low volume that I'm not sure whether I'm listening to The Beatles, or Japanese bubblegum pop. When everyone in the room is that silent, I can only think that maybe they can hear me listening to Tahitian tribal music, and now they think I'm weird. I mean, I already have the volume so low that I can't even hear anything but the bass drum, but the person sitting six feet away from me might know that I'm listening to Amy Winehouse, so I should turn it down some more.
3. People In Stores Think I'm Incapable Of Shopping
I understand that asking "Can I help you?" is just common courtesy, and also required for store employees, I would think, but just tell me one thing. What makes you think I need help finding a CD when there's a one hundred year old lady ten feet away from me trying to figure out how to turn on a laptop? Do I just seem like the kind of person who's incapable of finding a certain CD in a perfectly organized, alphabetized aisle? Because I am, but I won't let you know that. I'll find it myself, because if I tell you I need help, I'll have another three employees searching for that one CD five minutes later, and calling every other store in the area to order it, when it would actually just be quicker for me to go buy it somewhere else. I'm perfectly capable of being a dysfunctional young adult without the help of four employees. Maybe if the "Can I help you?" question had never come up that time at McDonald's, Bestfriend and Bestfriend's brother and I wouldn't have spent ten minutes standing at the cash register trying to figure out how to use coupons for a Big Mac... That never happened, actually...

Fine. It did.


P.S. Look! I found Michael Cera in animal form! I thought you might be interested...





















The resemblance is striking, really.