Thursday, April 30, 2015

Z is for Zoinks!

     I'm almost positive I spelled that wrong and this has nothing to do with Scooby-Doo or Velma.

     Remember when I was talking about nightmares back for my W post? I had a nightmare about my dad kidnapping me so I briefly discussed why I think nightmares happen.

     Well, today, I took myself to lunch before work. I had my earbuds in, music blasting, and food in my hands when I walked past all of the full tables and to the half wall. I looked up to see what seats were available.

     And made eye contact with eyes so identical to my dad's, that I almost dropped my food and started to panic. He didn't react, just stared at me because I was staring at him. I sat down.

     Then I sneakily took pictures to send to people to see if I lost my mind.

Mom: Wow. Okay. That's a shock. Shit.

Blog Mom: Oh. That's scary.

Aunt: Better you than me but holy shit. 

Sister: wow wait what the heck :0

Brother: holy shit

Princess: Breath. It's not him. Holy hell it looks like him but it's not.

Coworker (who checked on me twice after clocking out): Holy...oh my...what... If I see him, you're going to the back.

     So yeah, that happened. I worked in the back for over an hour just to clear my head considering I was shaking. I'm okay now, but my goodness today was stressful.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Y is for Yearly

     Like, yearly traditions.

     I'm not very good at keeping up with traditions, to be honest. I think the biggest one that I have is doing this challenge every year.

     I also do blog posts on New Year's for my goals of the year and the achievements of the last year.

     Starting last year, I decided to do a post of 800 questions every year on my birthday to see how much I have changed.

     There seems to be a pattern here. All of my traditions appear to be blog related. I should probably work on that.

     What is your favorite yearly tradition?

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

X is for X's

     Or rather, exes. But shut up. This is a hard letter.

     I don't have any exes but enough of my friends have had them for me to have an idea on how not to treat them. Basically, how not to be an asshole to somebody you once liked enough to be in a relationship with.

1) Don't share or post any sort of pictures or videos of them. Especially the naked kind. Those should be deleted in front of that ex so they know they will never need to worry about it.

2) Don't start rumors. Whether or not they're secrets or made up or even common knowledge, you shouldn't be talking about them behind their back.

3) Once it's over, don't keep begging them to get back together. Either prove that you want to be with them or back the fuck off. 

4) Don't get with their friends or family members. Like, seriously, that's just wrong.

5) Even so, if you aren't with them anymore then you have no right to be jealous over who they are with. You're allowed to be pissed if it's a friend or family member, but not jealous.

     There are plenty more things, but this about sums it up. I can't imagine not being in a relationship with my boyfriend, but if it ever came to that, I feel like staying his friend would be the only thing that would keep me sane.

     When you're in a relationship with somebody, I feel like they are such a big part of your lives- how could you ever betray them or go out of your way to hurt them? That includes cheating and abuse.

     So, don't be an asshole.

Monday, April 27, 2015

W is for Why

     Why do people have nightmares?

     The logical reason is that the body is trying to subconsciously say that there is something wrong or that you shouldn't have watched that scary movie. Those are generally decent reasons.

     Except that it's rare I get the sort of monster nightmares. My nightmares are usually about somebody chasing after me and trying to get me (or somebody I love).

     Last night, it involved my dad showing up at my job and forcing me to leave with him, despite my will. So, basically, my dad kidnaped me. It's not the first time I've had a nightmare like that.

     The problem is, it's so common that I always wonder if it will actually happen. It's not like that side of the family is all sunshine and rainbows, after all.

     So, why do I get those nightmares? I didn't watch a scary movie and I can't think of what my brain would be trying to tell me with that as the message.

     My best, and only, guess would be trauma.

     Follow up question: How do you make the nightmares stop?

Sunday, April 26, 2015

V is for Villains

     Tony and I went to the movies today.

     The first movie we saw was True Story. It was my choice because I heard it was good.

     The acting was great by half the actors and lacking by the other half. But the story was real.

     It's about a recently fired journalist who is trying to get his life back together and a guy who was pretending to be said journalist (before the firing, of course) who was arrested with the accusations of killing his wife and three children.

     I won't give any spoilers but don't watch if you're extremely sensitive or emotional. There were a couple scenes that put me into tears because it was a based on a true story.

     The second move was The Kingsman. Tony picked that one.

     The acting was great. The storyline was odd and they broke the fourth wall a lot, however it was done well and very funny. The villainy was just so weird though.

     Basically, the movie is about this kid who's dad was a Kingsman but died in action, so the friend of the dad is trying to give that kid a second chance by offering him a place with that opens up. Also, a Kingsman is basically a British spy gentleman (or lady). Be warned, there is a lot of gore and a girl butt, so don't go if you're not into seeing that.

     While my suggestion was so much more believable, his suggestion was supposed to sound insane. It mostly did, but they included so many actual events and facts, that it was almost educational during the process. My movie was surprisingly less educational, except about the people's lives and maybe a grammar lesson, despite it being a true story.

     We have decided to let Tony pick the movies from now on. While mine brought on all the feels, it was actually extremely depressing and sad. While his brought on all the laughs, there were so parts that were so stupid I cringed.

     Either way, both movies were very good. I would be able to suggest going to see both, depending on what you can handle.

Friday, April 24, 2015

U is for Ugh

     And also ouchy.

     I dropped a new case full of shoe boxes and it smacked my hand into a metal beam on the shelves.

     I think I busted a vein but I'm not 100% sure.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

T is for Tina

     The same Tina that this year's A to Z Challenge is in honor of.

     I miss her greatly.

     She was a friend, a teacher, and a role model for me personally.

     I hope that she would be proud of everyone this year.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

S is for Snake Sweaters

     I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

     A while ago, I was scrolling through Facebook and I saw that my aunt had liked something. When I saw the picture, I wasn't sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. I had to click to enlarge it.



     Not only is that snake wearing a sweater, but that snake is posing for a picture.

     I texted it to my mom. I told her, "I suddenly want a pet snake purely so I can dress it up in sweaters but I don't because I don't want to feed it Thumper or Gus." (That's a Bambi and a Cinderella reference, in case you never had a childhood.)

     "Isn't a snake sweater just a sock with the end cut off?" My mom asked.

     I thought about that. "It could be but I wouldn't make Nagini wear socks because then it would smell like feet. I would buy it sweaters."

     "What the fuck is a Nagini?" My mom asked.

     I deadpanned. "VOLDEMORT'S SNAKE/HORCRUX!"

     "Oh." She probably had no idea what I was talking about.

     "I want to be able to say I put Nagini in a sweater. But I don't want to feed it Thumper or Gus. I do have a lot of people I don't like."

     It was at that point that I checked to see if I still had a nose. I do.

R is for Rest

     Rest is what I need.

     My boss even gave me three days off this week.

     Sunday was spent sleeping and with my boyfriend.

     Today was spent with a good friend I've made here. We ate food, watched YouTube videos, drank boba smoothies, and she introduced me to k-pop and Korean dramas and animes I've never seen before.

     Saturday will be spent getting my hair done (again) and with my brother.

     See you tomorrow for my more comical S post!

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Q is for Quit

     No I don't mean quitting the Challenge, though this post is a few hours late.

     Today I'm telling the story of when I quit my last job.

     First, understand that this job was so horrible that I was making $10 or less a day, working 2-3 mornings a week. Because I wasn't allowed to be seated with tables and they wouldn't let me work nights, when people actually want to go eat steak and drink beer.

     They constantly cut my hours because my alcohol sales were lower than anyone else's who worked Saturday nights, except I was still at the top for all the morning shift people (bartender excluded). One time, they let me work one Saturday, and my sales increased drastically and they kept saying how impressed they were, and then they cut my hours to one morning the next week.

     They constantly screamed at me to the point that I left in tears a few times. (Related note: Don't scream at people. They could have very traumatic memories that make it hard for them to handle.)

     Right before my birthday, my second job offered to increase my house, my pay, and give me a promotion if I would quit the restaurant and work full time. They explained the downfall: less time at home, more responsibility, not being able to be demoted if I wasn't cut out for it, lots more stress.

     I jumped on it. They tried to give me time to think and I was like, "No, I'll quit my other job tomorrow. I just need to give them my two weeks." They said, of course, I could even take three weeks if the restaurant needed to replace me.

     So I went to the restaurant the next day and said, "Hi {asshole manager everyone wants to kick in the dick}, I need to talk to you whenever you have a minute." He said, "I have a minute now."

     "I'm putting in my two weeks notice today. My other job has offered me a promotion and a raise, but it requires me to go full time and I won't be able to make this job a priority, like it deserves." I said.

     "Sure, I need a hand written and signed copy of what you just said."

     I wasn't expecting that. I didn't need that when I quit my first job to move out to Arizona. They had actually liked me and tried to call me in after I quit though.

     "Oh, I didn't realize that. I don't have any paper with me." I told him, looking at the two notepads and several stacks of binders surrounding him. I didn't want to have to waste my time for another trip the day after.

     "Bring it in tomorrow." He said, and walked away.

     Asshole, I want to kick you in the dick...wearing boots...with spikes...made of lava...and cactus needles... I thought. 

     When I arrived at my other job a little bit later, I gave my boss the update. He looked so confused. I tried to explain but I wasn't going to throw an employer under the bus. He seemed to understand though.

     The next day, I left the note with the manager and walked out. They didn't schedule me at all the next week and I didn't even bother to check the second week. I just told my boss, who is still my current boss, that I was available any time and I was (and still am) incredibly thankful for the opportunity.

     Last Saturday, I ran into a hostess I used to work with. When I told her my story, she said, "I was hired at my new job and planned to give two weeks, but they needed me on emergency so I called. I tried to thank him for the opportunity and he hung up on me." She said.

     "I won't even go back to eat now." I told her.
 
     "Neither would I. I'm scared they would yell at me." She said.

     "Hell, I'm scared they would spit in my food." I responded.

     "ME TOO!" 

     And at that moment, it was really confirmed that it wasn't all in my head and I wasn't overreacting. Because one of the three or four nice people there, felt the exact same that I did.

     The end.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

P is for Periods

     I don't mean the way to end a sentence. I'm talking about the blood that leaks out of your vagina.

     I got mine today- which is very good because it means my uterus is still without a tenant. But it's also very bad, because there is so much ouchy.

     That's all I really have to say on the matter. It's my excuse for not being creative, but for being very bitchy and hungry (nevermind the fact that I always am).

     See you Monday!

P.S. For those of you who are going to suggest birth control or tell me to switch it: I am quite happy with the one I am on. I've always had serious ouchy times on my period and there's not much that can be done about that.

Friday, April 17, 2015

O is for Orthodontist

     I was in braces for two and a half years.

     It was an extremely long time to go without peanut butter, gum, or biting into an apple. Though, to be fair, I still can't bite into an apple because I have a perminate retainer glued to my lower teeth.

     My dentist was the husband. My orthodontist was the wife. And my oral surgeon was their best friend. They all knew me by name, to the point that they would ask how the dogs and cats were doing and if I liked my newest hair color/style better than the last one.

     At one point, they were all trying to get me on their team to play pranks on the other two.

     Granted, I didn't enjoy having my wisdom teeth surgically removed, my incisors cut open to cut the tendons, my teeth being yanked out because I have a tiny mouth, or my braces being tightened every six to eight weeks...

     But I really did get to know them and I can actually say, since moving, that I miss seeing them on the visits.

     I saw them through two kids, a new partnership, moving twice with the second time being a brand new building that they built from the ground up, and a whole bunch of stuff in my life.

     Not many people are lucky enough to have a situation like I did and without them, those two and a half years would have been hell considering the fact that I was terrified of dentists before I moved to Alabama.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

N is for Nope

     Let me tell you a tale- a tale of trauma, humor, and disgust.

     It all started while I was on my break at work today. A coworker picked up my food for me, so all I had to do was go outside to a table and sit down. That was exactly what I did.

     As I shoved a French fry into my mouth, the chair across from me scooted back and a kid sat down.

     "Hi! I hope you don't mind. My friends were boring me so I thought I would come say hi. My name is Noah." Said the kid.

     His friends were staring over at us. They were also kids, as one might expect.

     "Hi, Noah. I'm Rachel." I replied, sort of dumbstruck and wondering if this was some sort of dare.

     "How's the food?" He asked.

     I stared at my food, suddenly becoming extremely protective of it because I was not going to share it. "It's fine." I shoved another French fry into my mouth.

     "So, what brings you here?" He asked.

     Oh my gosh, what is happening? I asked myself. "I'm on my break from work."

     "Oh, where do you work?" He asked.

     I might have lied if I wasn't wearing a name tag, so I pointed to the store, directly behind him. 

     "Cool! I'm gonna apply for a job at McDonald's since you only have to be fourteen to work there." Noah said.

     Is that true? When did that become a thing. Minimum working age is sixteen, right? I wondered, but then I realized what he said.

     "Fourteen? Is that how old you are?" I asked. It looked about right.

     He nodded his head. "Yeah, how old did you think?"

     "That was my guess. How old do you think I am?" I asked him.

     He shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. A teenager, right? No way you're older than eighteen or nineteen."

     "I'm twenty-one." I watched his eyes get big. "And I live with my boyfriend." I added.

     His eyes about popped out of his head and he jumped up from the chair. "It was nice meeting you. I should go. Bye!" He literally ran after his friends.

     When he walked by later, he was staring at his feet and wouldn't look at my store.

     All I could think was, There is no fucking way that actually just happened. There is so much nope that it couldn't be a thing.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

M is for Marriage

     No, I'm not getting married.

     Everyone seems to want me to, though.

     My boss, who is extremely kind, is one of those people. She and I talked a lot about ourselves, and I told her a lot about my boyfriend.

     The thing she said most is, "He makes you happy! He's a good man, marry him!"

     A coworker always says, "your husband" instead of "your boyfriend". I always correct her. She says, "You live together so it's the same thing. You just need the ring."

     Ashley, the lovely friend who gets drunk and does guest posts, actually called him my husband today.

     Seriously, why is everyone pushing me to make this a thing by law?

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

L is for Love

     What is love?

     Love is telling somebody to buckle up, drive safe, and call you when they get there.

     Love is talking for hours at a time, about nothing and everything, because you don't want to say goodbye even for a moment.

     Love isn't thinking about yourself, but thinking about that other person first.

     Love is when they get a paper cut but you're the one who's in pain, because they were hurt.

     Love is forgetting everything else because they can distract you too easily.

     Love is when you can't sleep because they're working late, even when you have to be at work early the next morning.

Monday, April 13, 2015

K is for Kindness

     Did you do a random act of kindness today?

     I lent a coworker a dollar so she could catch the bus home.

     I gave relationship advice to two friends who asked my opinion.

     I did a lot of the muscle work today so my coworkers wouldn't have to.

     But did I really go out of my way to make a difference in somebody's day? Not enough to make myself happy.

     It's important to be kind to everyone you can be, so long as you are not being victimized or abused, but there is a special line between doing the minimum and making a difference.

     I've only been doing the minimum. I plan on changing that.

     What about you?

Saturday, April 11, 2015

J is for Just Saying...

     Today's post is brought to you by the letter J, my annoyment, and the loss of my preplanning.

     I shared a picture of myself and one of my best friends, who I claim as my brother, on Facebook. I thought it was funny because he looked like a foot taller than me, when it's really only six or seven inches. I looked teeny.

     My aunt said how cute it was, my mom said how cute it was, Janie Junebug who will need to link herself in the comments because I'm on my phone said he was a cutie.

     My dad commented that I should stand up.

     I said I was.

     My dad said that I should kick my brother in the balls so I would be taller.

     My automatic want to respond was: Or I could just kick YOU in the balls.

     I decided to be more clever so everyone would see how much of an ass he is. Especially considering he had need even met a single friend that I currently have.

     I said, "I could just borrow a ladder from work" and made a comment about how I'm clumsy.

     He couldn't resist the bait. He said, "Considering your relationship with gravity isn't very good, it would be safer to kick him in the balls".

     Got him! I thought.

     "Except I would rather fall off a ladder than kick my best friend in the balls." I replied back.


     Don't be a bully. Don't fuck with people I love. Don't piss me off.

     Just saying.

Friday, April 10, 2015

I is for I Made Food

     I'm using today's post to brag about how awesome I am.

     When I went to the store to find something for dinner, I was like, "You know what? I want pork chops." so I called my mom and asked if she would teach me how to make them through the phone.

     And she did.


     I should have used different seasonings on the green beans, my boyfriend said it needed pepper but I think it needed more Cajun seasoning.

     But he said that everything else was perfect. He ate everything on his plate and so did I. I'm actually very happy with how it turned out.

     I won't be posting a recipe though, mostly because I didn't use any sort of measurements. I did it all my smell. Even my roommate said it looked/smelled really good and he was sure we would enjoy it.

     However... I did manage to cut my thumb under the nail, with paper from the Cajun seasoning, that is primarily made of salt. Yes, I did get it into the paper cut. Now I know true pain.

     Worth it though.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

H is for Human Hamster Ball

     A human hamster ball is basically a giant, inflatable hamster ball for humans that doesn't close.

     My brother Tony came to visit for the day. We got books (well, I did- The Diary of Anne Frank and Thirteen Reasons Why- both of which I'm super excited about, despite the depressing nature).

     We found this:


     We ate food. So much food.

     First, we ate at Chipotle. Then we got ice cream from Dairy Queen, then we had candy and popcorn in the movie theater.

     Well, in between the ice cream and the movie, we decided to become giant hamsters.

      Basically, the goal is to roll around in the gated area and hit each other as hard as you possibly can to knock the other person flying. Note to future self- You will go flying face-first into the hamster ball so taking your glasses off is probably the best idea.

      I'm not sure who won. I think we both just got so overheated and exhausted that we called it a tie. I was able to get out much easier though, since I'm much shorter (as demonstrated by this picture):


     I just slid out through the hole in the hamster ball and landed in the grass. I only needed about half of the hole to get out so it didn't matter that most of it was on the ground. He needed it all, but he couldn't hear me so his struggle became even more real.

     Then we went to the movie. We saw Get Hard. I had to tell them he was my actual little brother and become his legal guardian to get him into the film because it's rated R and he's only 17.

     Don't go see this movie with your family or a nun or anyone who is offended easily. It's funny, but it would be awkward to see with your mother or somebody who can't take a joke.

     See you tomorrow for the I post.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

G is for Gif

     Is it pronounced like Jiff the peanut butter or is it pronounced like ga-iff/guh-iff but only one syllable?

     These are the questions that haunt me.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

F is for Finished

    I find it sort of appropriate that I'm writing this on a day when I want to punch everyone in the crotch.

     Over the last week, I've just become done with certain things. Certain things I don't have time for, like being insulted or being taken for granted.

     One person decided it would be a good idea to insult me via text. I explained myself and the insulting continued.

     "You know what," I decided, "I'm done with this. I don't have time. I have more important things to do, like worry about work and cleaning and food and blogging and basically anything else in the world besides taking shit from somebody." So I deleted the text and never responded.

     Later on in the same day, a mistake was made at work. There is absolutely no way to know who make it. It was incredibly simple- we were over by $5 when closing. I found out where it happened but our cameras were down for the day, so who did it is a mystery.

     It only could have been me or one other girl- we were the only ones working at that time. I told her. She said something along the lines of, "I want to handle all my transactions myself because I know for a fact that I'm not the one who made that mistake." Therefor putting all the blame on me.

1) I trained this girl last year.

2) I fixed three mistakes for her all in that day.

     I didn't text back. I was tempted to ask that her hours be cut for the attitude, not because I am a manager but because I am a coworker. I decided against it. This time.

     I'm just finished with bullshit.

     You want to start it, that's fine. But I'll probably block you if you drag me into it. I don't have time for all those bad things when I'm trying to make time for the good.

Monday, April 6, 2015

E is for Embarrassing

     Have you ever just walked into something?

     I'm not talking, oh you bumped into something on your side.

     No, I mean, you walk straight into something as if it's not even there and then end up with bruises all over various parts of your body because it was such a straight-on collision.

     Because I did that, at the WalMart my boyfriend works in, in front of a bunch of his coworkers.

This is the thing I walked in to.

     I wasn't on my phone or anything. I guess I had just zoned out or something, because I legitimately didn't see it and I was staring straight at it.

     I've never said I'm not clumsy though.

    The new location for my store requires the use of ladders, near-constantly, in the back of the store. It's been two months and I'm still stumbling all over the place. It probably doesn't help that I always think I'm on the first step, but I'm usually on the second or third.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

D is for Dumb Roommate

     Please note, if you are new to my blog or just stopping by for the A-Z that this post will contain curse words from here on out. As to most of my posts. You've been warned.

     Most of you know about my idiot roommate.

     I want to punch him in the face, but at the same time, he's so gross that I wouldn't make my poor hand go through that because ew.

     Well, dumbass is at it again.

     (By the way, his girlfriend dumped him about a week after I made the post saying that they wouldn't be together more than two or three weeks. I should have made a bet.)

     Anyways, dumbass is being a dumbass. I live in Arizona, the desert, where it gets really fucking hot during summer. Or, apparently, at the end of March. I'm prewriting this post on March 29 and the high today was 93 degrees outside.

     A couple weeks ago, Wolfy (that is my boyfriend, for you lovely new readers) turned the a/c on because it was getting so hot. Roommate turned it off. It was so hot in here that it was like being slapped in the face and being unable to breath, because the heat was just so stuffy. So Wolfy turned it back on and put up a note (which I can't find to take a picture of, oops).

     The note said not to shut off the a/c because it's too hot.

     Roommate bumped the temperature up all the way to 80 degrees so that it wouldn't kick on anymore.

     Somewhere during all of this, Roommate's Xbox One totally shitted out. Wolfy and I have a theory that since Roommate would have it on for hours at a time, with no air circulation, it just overheated. It's been about two weeks since it died and we've been enjoying the living room without the dumbass.

     It's been a constant war to keep the a/c at a nice temperature instead of being baked in our own apartment.

     Every day when I get home from work, it's been shut off and I have to turn it back on. I walk to and from work every day and it can be colder outside than it is in my apartment, to the point I start sweating as soon as I shut the front door.

     At first, I was irritated.

     Then I got angry.

     Today, he shut it off while I was in the shower, and it was 91 degrees outside.

     Now he's done pissed me off.

     I'm gonna need some chili powder and some ghost chili. He wants it to be hot? Fine, I'll show him what hot really is.

Friday, April 3, 2015

C is for Crazy Conversations

     I don't even wish that I could make this up. I think my mom is still traumatized.

My grandpa is the person my mom is referring to. He's her stepfather so she calls him by his first name.

Mr Fix-It, my mom's 24 year old boyfriend. She's a cougar.

I wasn't kidding.

I don't make idle threats.

Also taking donations of the therapy service itself.

He actually did bring beer.

If she shared details of her and Mr Fix-It, I would have called a pothead that Mr Fix-It and I used to work with. 

The crappy neighborhood we lived in.

I'm still proud of that reference.

And also that one.

The Big Dog and then Mr Fix-It.

She still hasn't made it up to me.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

B is for Book

     So, during my adventure from yesterday, I bought a book. It's called House of Leaves and it's by Mark Z. Danielewski. I have no idea how to pronounce his last name.

This is the book.
This in the book on the page where the author usually dedicates it to somebody.
I like Mr Danielewski's sass on this.

     I mainly bought the book because my friend said that it is fucking weird, unlike anything she's ever seen in a book, and she has no idea how to even read it.

     She even tried to tell me the general plot behind it and she couldn't. All she could finally tell me was that if I wanted to understand the complete weirdness, I needed to buy it.

Even the pages are set up to be weird.
I literally just turned to random pages and had no trouble finding the weirdness.
Okay, this only is slightly less weird but not really when you can read it clearly.
The words are actually upside down.

     I made it passed the first "chapter" and I barely comprehend what I read. I'm still struggling. This is the type of book where you need to be fully awake and energized to read it, not the type of book you can just read before bed. It also makes your mind go crazy trying to fully soak in everything that's being said because there is just so much.

     But damnit, I will finish this book.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

A is for Adventures

     I have a collection of pictures from random adventures that I've had.

I just happened to see this when I was going home and had to stop to take a picture.
Yes, that IS a shopping cart balanced on a mailbox.

I didn't see any college attendees, hunks, or movers. I feel lied to.

I took myself to IHOP and ordered hot chocolate...
and the server made it totally fucking awesome.

Super old copy of a book. I bought a newer version because I was scared I would damage it while reading it.

I need readers help:
Is this a sequel to Interview With A Vampire?

I ordered a smoothie and the guy went to the back to make it.
You do not understand my temptation to help myself to all the candies.

I went to a different book store with a friend and we opened a book to find this.
It made me happy.

Then we opened a different book to find this.
She took it out but then we realized it's a sort of alarm because alllll the books had it.

I just took a picture of this because I really want to read it.
I'm willing to accept gifts.

I was with the same friend. We both took pictures of our drinks because they were amazing.
And also extremely confusing to order.
We had to ask for help on the menu.