Taking Over The Moon

1000 of you?!  It boggles my mind that 1000 of you looked at my blog and thought “Yup, that’s my brand.  She is my kind of trash” and clicked follow!

But you did!  

And here we are!  

I want you all to know how much I truly appreciate every message, reblog, and like!  So as a thank you for just generally being AWESOME, I am doing a “Treat Yo Self” Giveaway!  

I picked each prize to make it easy to treat yourself to something special!

Here are the three prizes for three winners:

$25 Lush Cosmetics eGift Card

$25 Sephora eGift Card 

$25 Red Bubble eGift Card

GIVEAWAY RULES:

YOU MUST BE FOLLOWING ME TO WIN!  

Three winners will be picked.  

First winner get their choice of prizes

Second winner gets choice of two that are remaining

Third winner gets remaining prize

Likes and reblogs count

Reblog as many times as you want, just no spamming please!

Electronic Gift Cards will be emailed directly to you if you win!

The winners will be picked via a random number generator

I will message the winners - if I don’t get a reply within 48 hours, I will choose another winner!

You have til midnight (EST), March 12th, 2016 to enter.

THE VOTER TURNOUT FOR DEMS HAS BEEN NOTHING SHORT OF TERRIFYING.

GO

FUCKING

feel free to take it.

I used to work for a call center and I was doing a political survey and I called this number that was randomly generated for me and the way our system worked was voice-activated so when the other person said hello you’d get connected to them, so I just launch right into my “Harvard University and NPR blah blah blah” thing and then there’s this long pause and I think the person’s hung up even though I didn’t hear a click

And then I hear “you shouldn’t be able to call this number.”

So I apologize and go into the preset spiel about because we aren’t selling anything, etc. etc. and the answer I get is

“No, I know that. What I mean is that it should be impossible for you to call this number, and I need to know how you got it.”

I explain that it’s randomly generated and I’m very sorry for bothering him, and go to hang up. And before I can click terminate, I hear:

“Ma’am, this is a matter of national security.”

I accidentally called the director of the FBI.

There was no MS Dos involved. Instead, there was a proprietary type-based OS and an actually-uses-transistors refrigerator-sized computer with switches I had to trip at certain times during the night as I watched the data flow from six pm to six AM on Fridays and weekends. If things got stuck, I reset the server. 

The company handled everything from low-end data (hotel and car reservations) to flight plans and tower information. I was weighed every time I came in to make sure it was me. Areas of the building had retina scanners on doors. 

During training. they took us through all the procedures. Including the procedures for the red phone. There was, literally, a red phone on the shelf above my desk. “This is a holdover from the cold war.” They said. “It isn’t going to come up, but here’s the deal. In case of nuclear war or other nation-wide disaster, the phone will ring. Pick up the phone, state your name and station, and await instructions. Do whatever you are told.”

So my third night there, it’s around 2am and there’s a ringing sound. 

I look up, slowly. The Red phone is ringing.

So I reach out, I pick up the phone. I give my name and station number. And I hear every station head in the building do the exact same. One after another, voices giving names and numbers. Then silence for the space of two breaths. Silence broken by…

“Uh… Is Shantavia there?”

It turns out that every toll free, 1-900 or priority number has a corresponding local number that it routs to at its actual destination. Some poor teenage girl was trying to dial a friend of hers, mixed up the numbers, and got the atomic attack alert line for a major air-travel corporation’s command center in the mid-west United States.

There’s another pause, and the guys over in the main data room are cracking up. The overnight site head is saying “I think you have the wrong number, ma’am.” and I’m standing there having faced the specter of nuclear annihilation before I was old enough to legally drink.

I ALSO START SPEED WALKING

GODDAMMIT OSCAR, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT’S LIKE BEING A WOMAN WALKING ALONE??? 

Spider-Man/Deadpool #2 - “Isn’t it Bromantic? II” (2016)

Today, I just got the keys to my first house.

How Sam Wilson fixed everything. 

Bonus: