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Name: Rufus (or just Ruth)
Birthday: 2/13/1988
Interests: making fun of losers, screaming empty threats, making YOU laugh your @$$ off~~~
Expertise: biting sarcasm, glares of death, singing soulfully, and trying to act like a NERD and like a CUTE PERSON!!! yes, i want to be cute and smart but it's not working too well for me...
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
Member Since:
3/9/2003
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| Lately, I've been worrying everyday about my parents. They're getting old and this concerns me deeply to the point that sometimes I lay sleepless in my bed.
Sometimes I can't help but shed some tears for them. Our parents traveled across an entire ocean into a foreign country in search of "the land of opportunity." Unfamiliar with the language, customs, and laws, they trudged through their unsatisfying jobs in order to properly clothe us, educate us, feed us, shelter us, and love us. And yet, we repay them with tantrums, disrespect, and contempt. Why? Why do we do this to them? Why do we not realize at the moment that we're digging a dagger into their hearts. What other motivation can they find to continue working and living if we treat them with such disrespect?
I don't know if I've actually matured from my first year in college. I finally understand how precious my parents are to me. I finally realize that I've been unreasonable and foolish in the past. By all means, I haven't really done much to upset my parents. They usually thank me for being so easy to raise, but that doesn't wash me of all blame. I've hurt them several times with the use of my words and actions. After my great realization, I regret every moment that I've been less than perfect for them.
I go home every once in a while to spend some quality family time with my parents. With every return, I notice more and more that they're slowly but surely agining in front of my very eyes. I feel like I don't have enough time left with them. I haven't done anything for them yet. I haven't told them that I love them enough. I haven't given them enough hugs. I haven't bought them a car or a house with my own money yet. I haven't sent them on a world-wide trip for their wedding anniversary yet. I haven't done so much for them still.
I finally grasp the meaning of "unconditional love." It's always been there with my parents. I just took a while longer to build it for them. I wish I could tell them this, but I always choke on my tears and blank out on the words.
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| Hello, world!!!!! Wow... I haven't updated my Xanga for a week! That is impressive.
College life ROCKS!!!!!! I'm mad at each and every one of you that told me Emory sucked. Emory does NOT suck! It is the best place EVER~~~~~~~ I made friends on the first day, and we're still friends. You losers!!!!!!!!! I got an Emory University license frame for my SUV Zimbabwe. That is how much I love my freaken school. You diss my school, and I'll stick a cane up your ass. I dare you to diss my school... grr  COME VISIT ME~~~~~~~~~~ I miss everyone... 
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| I'M LEAVING TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes, I know Emory is only 20 minutes away from home. Truthfully speaking, I don't want to go. I want to get out of the house and away from my parents, but I don't want to change locations. To sum it all up, I'm going to miss my bed. I like my bed. It's big, it's cushiony, it's fragrant.
What am I going to take to my dorm? I don't know what to bring. I don't feel like decorating my room, so I'm taking my clothes, laptop, bed accessories, and contempt. Boobies...
BOOBIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bye, Jji Jji! I'm sorry I couldn't hang out with you. But I still love you and your jji jji very much. 
Ok... So I'm moved into Dobbs Hall in Emory. I was dreading the thought of starting school, but I'm actually enjoying it very much. It's overwhelming to acquaint yourself to the rest of the student body, but I'll manage it somehow.
I can't wait for classes to start. I don't care if you losers call me a nerd. I am one, and I am proud to be one. I'm tired. I'm going to go to sleep.
zzz... | | |
| Well, the summer has taken a turn for the worse. I am bored out of my almost-empty skull. Everyone has left me. EVERYONE!!!! Everyone
is either in Athens or unpacking in Atlanta. Only a handful of us are
left scavenging all the corners of the world for anything that can be
used to stimulate our faltering brain waves.
All my friends are pumped for the quickly approaching school year.
What's wrong with me? I DON'T want to go. Nothing about Emory excites
me. I feel like I have nothing to look forward to. Someone save me from
this vacuum of despair that I've been sucked into!!!!!!!
Wow. This entry is depressing... I'm going to finish off on a happy note.
LA!
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| OK kids, if you have a weak stomach or
think of me as your younger or older sister, please STOP READING!!!
As some of you may know, I am currently working as a part-time clerk at
QT. Despite my mediocre physical appearance, some of our male customers take the time
off from their QT experience to make a move on me. I know it's hard to imagine,
but try to be creative. Because it is my duty to be polite to all the
customers, the most I can do to avoid a coming disaster is smile and
walk away. Unfortunately for me, I've gotten much too used to this
procedure.
My manager called me a couple days ago to request that I take over
someone else's shift on Saturday. I gladly accepted this offer due to
my famished wallet. After catching up with one of my close friends over
lunch on Saturday, I plastered a smile on my face and made my entrance into QT.
2 hours into my shift, this loopy guy in his 50s walked up to me
and asked where the hot dogs were. I eagerly pointed him towards the
grills and returned to finishing my task of the moment. He came back
and asked the same question. The repetition continued for the
next 5 minutes. I, with the help of my coworker Brian, somehow managed
to halt the rendition without making a scene. Brian jokingly accused me
of hitting on old men, we both laughed it off.
An hour passed since then. I was filling the cappuccino machines with
the appropriate flavor powders, when I noticed someone was standing
dangerously close to me. I thought it was Brian, because we always
tease and play pranks on each other. I was surprised to find
out that it was Loopy again. I don't think I've ever felt so
uncomfortable in my life. Luckily, Brian always keeps an eye on me
during our shifts, because he always saves me from the shady guys that
hit on anything with a beating heart and because he's usually throwing
wet towels at my face. Thankfully he was watching me when Loopy approached me. Accurately reading my facial expression,
Brian jumped over the counter,
despite the many customers in line, and screamed, "YO! You need some
help, man? She's a rookie. I know this store better." Our store manager
Pete saw Brian hop over the counter, so he ran over to us ready to fire
Brian on the spot. It didn't take Pete long to figure out what was
happening. When the loopy guy saw two men charging towards him, he
fumbled his way into the bathroom and sought refuge.
Life continued as it always does for the next ten minutes. When those
ten minutes passed, Loopy reemerged from the bathroom. I wasn't
concerned, because I thought he had already left. Boy, was I ever so
wrong. Before
my brain could process anything, Loopy came within millimeters
of my face and was breathing down my neck. If you guys know me well
enough, you are aware of the fact that I am extremely jumpy. I FREAKED OUT.
Once again, my hero Brian jumped over the counter and wedged
himself between me and Loopy. He yelled, "Sir, we need you to exit this
QT. You are never to return here for any reason, whatsoever. We cannot
allow you to come here and corner our clerks like that. She is private
property, and we cannot entitle you the privilege of eying her like
she's some fresh meat on the market. If you do not leave this store
immediately I will be forced to personally call the police. Then
you will have to explain to the cops why you have needle marks on your
arm." Pete saw Brian jump over the counter again, so this time he knew
what to expect. Pete ran over and manhandled Loopy to the parking lot
and told him to "haul-ass out of here!!!!!!!!"
I was jittery, no doubt. As a safety precaution, Pete
allotted me to Brian. Brian is BUFF.
I felt safer that way. He really helped me relax. He got me talking
about myself, and he shared a little about his life as well. Soon I
regained my courage to man the register and greet the customers.
Then, something else happened. I can usually recognize the faces of our
regulars. One of them walked in 2 hours after the "incident." He came
with a friend, who eyed me like he was ready to take a plunge
into my pants. Brian was at the register next to mine. He saw it and
was ready to kick some ass. He leaned over to give me the heads up. As
predicted, the guy came to my register and started a conversation. He
asked me if I was new, and then proceeded to ask why he hasn't seen me
there before. He reassured me that he most definitely would have
noticed me. The conversation started getting out of hand. Brian was
listening the whole entire time, so he pulled me towards his register
and took my place for me. While bagging the guy's purchases, Brian
leaned forward and warned the guy about talking to me like that. The
guy was half the size of Brian, but he scoffed and walked toward me to
say, "I'll be seeing you a lot from now on," and winked at me to
emphasize his innuendo. Brian was about to jump over the counter
again, but Pete reprimanded him for his temper.
Brian has been asking me out on a date ever since I was training.
Discovering that he was too smooth, I never failed to serve him a stern
rejection and a death glare as an answer. Saturday was different. He
rescued my ass too many times and made sure I felt safe for the rest of my shift.
I took his offer and went to Sonic with him. This was after our shift,
so he saw me for the first time in my own clothes. He kept talking
about my body, which steered the conversation towards sex and then
towards kissing. He rated himself as a 9 on the scale of 1 to 10 and was dying
to prove his 9. I should've kicked his ball sacs like soccer balls.
I always told myself that I need to buy mace. I made this decision when
some creep from school started stalking me since Spring Break. He was a
scrawny little dweeb. I could've sent him flying into oncoming traffic
with a flick of my finger, so I didn't place too much importance on
purchasing that mace. Now that Saturday happened, I finally understand
the terror of rape. I actually feared for my life that day, and I still
do. Maybe I should also buy myself a taser...
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