Friday, December 30, 2005

Kansas City is the place to be on New Year's Eve!

I love this. Ok, so Overland Park is planning on having 7 more officers on patrol, and Olathe is planning an additional 10, and Lee's Summit will have a few extra bodies out there as well. Liberty police will even have a couple of extra officers out, even though it stays relatively quiet there on New Year's, according to their police department. Know why? Probly because most of the people in Liberty go to Kansas City for parties/to hang out in bars on New Year's.

But Kansas City prefers to let grown-ups be grown-ups, and think that people already know the rules, so why have more law enforcement on the beat to catch the additional partiers that might be out causing trouble/driving while dangerously intoxicated? Naw...those people know the rules! So if there isn't a police officer around to catch them in the act, then that's on their conscience, right? Because that's what keeps drunk drivers from maiming/killing people...their conscience. I forgot.

This is exactly why I stay the fuck in on New Year's Eve most every year. The last time I went out to a party was the turn to 1999 (and yes, we played the Prince song...who didn't?) when I was living in California, and my old friend and his roommate took me along to a party they were attending. His roommate was the designated driver. I got so drunk, I fell asleep on the front lawn of the house we were at, and then needed to have the roommate pull over about 4 times on the way home for me to throw up. Lovely memory. (I did have a fun time, though. Before the bottomless champagne glass happened, that is...)

Last year, I went to the Moose earlier in the evening for dinner and to hang out, and then retired to Fucktard's house to watch t.v., drink champagne and smooch a little at midnight, and then we went to bed. It was super-exciting.

This year, boyfriend has to work a private party at the Moose, so he won't be home for much of the evening. He said he's going to try to get off work before midnight, but I don't know that there are any guarantees of that. We'll have some champagne when he does get home, though, and then we'll go to sleep, because he has to be back at the restaurant by 8 to open the next morning. Again, I'm thinking it'll be a lovely evening overall.

Anyway, if you're going to party, and you're planning on driving drunk, apparently the place to do it is in Kansas City**. I don't know if they think that their standard force is good enough to be able to handle the additional crowds of people that will be out and about, or if they just think that people aren't going to be out and about, or what. But let's see...we're gonna have good weather...the next day is a Sunday...people will be rested and ready for a night of fun...yeah, I'm sure it'll be the standard Saturday night crowd that Kansas City usually has out every week.


**This is not me waving a big flag of encouragement at the idea of driving drunk, by the way. It's called sarcasm. Don't drive drunk. I've done it more than once in my lifetime, and it always amazes me to think back on those times, and realize what a dumb fuck I was being. Pace yourselves. Drink a coke between beers. Not only will it be cheaper, but you'll maintain all your faculties, you probably won't throw up at any point during the evening, and it's likely that a hangover will not occur the next day, which is good because the Chiefs play at noon, muthafuckas. (Carson Palmer is gonna be in town!!! So excited. So very, very excited...)

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Not a super-long post this time...

I went pee after lunch, and I swear I pee'd for 90 seconds straight. That has to be a record. I didn't even know my bladder could hold that much liquid! Go me!

I LOVE being a GIRL!

Who else hopes that Santino gets a gang ass-kicking at some point by all of the contestants on Project Runway this season? I do! I do!! Man, that guy is such a cocky muthafucker. I think that if Emmett opens up his wild side, he could really lay into Santino with a very satisfying amount of force. *sigh!* One can only dream! (And for the record, how many of us believe that Santino is only 30? Seriously? The guy must be kidding about that…)


I have a zit on my chin right now, and I’m not really sure where I got it from. I haven’t eaten any dairy, either on accident or purposely, within a week. I did eat a good amount of crap over the weekend…maybe that’s what did it? Could be.

By the way, has anyone else tried those Pilsbury cinnamon rolls lately? The "Grands" kind? I made them for Christmas breakfast (which sort of turned into Christmas lunch, but my tendency to sleep in isn’t news, so the digression is really unnecessary…) and as I ate one, I was reminded of the giant cinnamon rolls we used to serve at the restaurant I worked at a few years ago in San Juan Capistrano. (Ruby’s Diner, for those of you who know the chain, and live in Cali or Las Vegas. Try the cinnamon roll French toast they have there if you ever have the chance, and are in a splurge-on-calories kinda mood…it is awesomeness like you’ve never experienced in your life!) They weren’t quite as large as those ones we used to serve, but they were pretty damned close. You know the weird thing? I looked for the regular sized cinnamon rolls when I was purchasing the "Grands", and they didn’t have any. I’m not sure if the store just hadn’t stocked them, or what, but I’m wondering if the American penchant for huge food has nudged the smaller rolls out of the picture. I would have preferred the smaller ones, personally, as we used to have them on special occasions when I was growing up, and that was what I was hoping to be reminded of when I made the rolls on Christmas. I had to throw 2 of the cinnamon rolls away, as the boyfriend and I weren’t going to be eating them. Seems like such a waste. It really was too bad. I would have liked to have eaten them, honestly. But my ass is just so goddammed huge right now, it’s not right to ingest that much crap willingly.

Maybe the cinnamon rolls (I ate two – one on Sunday and one on Monday) gave me the zit? Hmm…

So I have this new bulletin board and a coat rack I need to hang in my "office", right? And I ask my coworker if it’s ok for me to drill into the wall and all, and she said that I should call our building management to ask them to have a maintenance guy hang it for me. That makes sense to me, since they know their walls better than I do. So I called on Tuesday afternoon, but I didn’t hear back from anyone. Until yesterday before lunch, when the receptionist calls me on the intercom to tell me that a maintenance guy had stopped by, but she couldn’t find me (I happened to be fighting with a copier/printer in another part of the office for about 10 minutes when he was here), so she thought she’d let me know. I was kind of irritated, because I’m not at my desk all the fucking time, and this guy didn’t even call to let me know when he was planning on dropping by, or anything. I felt bad for him for wasting his time, and I felt bad for me because my stuff is still sitting on the floor, unhung.

I decided to call the management office again, and the girl that’s there is different from the one I spoke to the day before, apparently, so I explain to her again what’s going on, and she says she’ll have someone call me. I told her that really was best, because I never know when I’m going to have to step away from my desk for a bit, and I hate that people are wasting time dropping by when I’m unaware that they’re coming. She understands, takes my number down, and tells me that someone will be calling soon.

Lunchtime comes, and I was eating a salad in a conference room with a couple of coworkers, and we were almost finished when I heard my name being paged over the intercom system. So I called the receptionist, and sure enough, the maintenance guy is here to help me out. Luckily, I was within earshot this time, dammit.

So this guy comes back to my office, and I start to tell him about the things I need to have hung. I explained that I didn’t have any drywall hangers, or anything, and that was one of the reasons I wanted to have someone call me before they came by. I thought it was odd that he didn’t have any tools on him, but I figured that he was just planning on assessing the situation, and then going to get the tools necessary for the job and all. But he stops me mid-sentence, and tells me that they don’t hang things for tenants, and that’s all he came by to tell me. (And he was kind of a dick about it, saying it with this smug little smile on his face as though he really wanted to say, "Sorry you might have to run the risk of breaking a nail, honey, but that’s not our job, m-kay?") I was all, Um, WTF? Why didn’t you just call me to tell me that? Or better yet, why didn’t the chick I spoke to at the office tell me that? Well, she’s a temp, so she didn’t know. Cool…understandable. But why did he come up to my office to tell me? I felt like an idiot. "It’s not in your lease that we do things like hang items on the wall…" You know what dude? I’m new here, which should be rather obvious, since I need things hung on the wall. I didn’t KNOW that it’s not standard to have a maintenance individual from the management of the property come by and hang items that need to be hung. If you guys don’t mind me ripping holes in the wall when I hang shit, then that’s your beef. But don’t make me look like an idiot by coming to my office to tell me you can’t hang something for me. It’s not like I took a fucking shit at my desk, and I asked someone to come clean it up. I thought it was a reasonable request, and a pretty smart one at that. But no…they don’t do things like that. They’d rather drive about and waste time going to an office to tell someone something they could tell them over the phone. Got it. They send a guy out to specifically change light bulbs in all the offices, and that’s it, but they won’t help me hang a bulletin board. Ok. That’s fine. Dicks.

So I need to hang my new bulletin board and coat rack, but I keep running late when I’m leaving the house, and so I keep forgetting to grab the tools, which sucks. But maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow should be a bit of a slow day, so that should work out well, I’d think. I’ve hung one of these bulletin boards before, by the way, and I did a rather capable job of it. It’s sort of hard to hang a 3’x4’ board, but I think I’ll keep it right at the desk line on the wall behind my monitor, so that should help keep it straight.

And my nails are nice and short right now, so that should keep my femaleness from getting in the way of getting the job done. As long as my boobs stay wrangled I should be fine. It's just so hard being a girl! *pouting* Ok, well, I'd better go deal with my vagina now. It has all control over me, and is making me feel so weak and vulnerable. AUGH! Is that a screw on my desk? Get it off! GET IT OFF!!! Eeeeee!!!!!

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Yeah, but can the caper do any tricks?

I was behind a lovely couple at my local WalMart Grocery store the other day, as I tried to quickly pick up some items I would need for lunches/dinners this week at home. It’s not a favorite store for me because the self-checkout counters all seem to be evil, and so I decided that this would be the first time I would go through the checkout counter that had a WalMart employee doing all the work.

Ok, that was my first mistaken assumption. After some initial monitoring, I noted that this chick definitely wasn’t all about the "work" part of her job. Nor was she all that interested in the whole "customer service" or "interaction with people" part of the job.

But the main thing was the people in front of me looked ready to finish up, and just have the last of their groceries loaded into bags so they could head out the door. That was my second mistaken assumption. (The two assumptions might have been reversed, when I think about it…whatev.) What I didn’t know was that they had some sort of exotic fruits (we call them "oranges" here in the Midwest) that were registering under the wrong price. Of course, by Law o’ Murphy, I had unloaded my last item from my cart when the maylay ensued. The woman refused to pay $.40/orange, as the sign above them had stated they were $.40 per pound. I understood her plight…I’ve been through that same issue at another WalMart Grocery store, but with potatoes instead of oranges. These were small oranges, and actually looked to be of the mandarin type, or something, so I can understand that many of you (who shop and buy oranges frequently) might be going, "Um, $.40 per orange is a pretty fucking good deal, though." And I’d agree with you. I go through orange kicks now and then, and I swear the last time I bought some, they were about $.70 each, but I could be wrong about that. Plus, I buy the normal size of orange, so I really can’t speak for what is being charged on the average for a smaller variety of weird orange. Anyway, apparently a manager had to get involved in this situation, and they brought the sign from the produce department to show to the checkout clerk (who apparently was the all-powerful final decision in what price these people were going to be paying for their little oranges…), and she could see that it said the little oranges were, indeed, $.40 per pound and not each, and she worked it all out, and had to get the change approved, and then the woman in front of me said what I’d been thinking all along: "I can’t believe all the trouble over 40 cents!" Apparently, the change in price on the 2 little oranges they were buying was about $.40. So they would have paid $.80 for the little things under Nazi Checkout Woman’s regime, but after the manager got involved, they were paying for the weight of the fruit, which was something like $.35 or $.40.

IN THE MEANTIME, I’m standing there, wishing I had chosen a different checkout, and when I hear this woman say the whole, "I can’t believe there’s so much trouble over 40 cents," I have to laugh. I had to laugh because if it’s "just" 40 cents to WalMart, then why isn’t it "just" 40 cents to her and her husband? You’re either interested in not getting shafted by the store, or you’re not and you move on. The time that I had the potato issue? I finished my checkout (I was doing a self-checkout at the time), and then went to the customer service counter to show the manager on duty that there was a discrepancy between what the sign said and what the checkout was ringing up. He insisted on giving me my money back (it was about $1.25, as I recall), even though I was really just wanting to let him know about the problem so they could fix it. But I didn’t hold anyone up from being able to continue with their day behind me. I also didn’t freak out about the whole $1.25 that I was being overcharged for my fucking potatoes (mostly because I had a good job at the time and I didn’t need to worry about such a small amount of cash, and I figured that karmically it’d come back to me somehow eventually…), because who the hell cares? I just wanted to make sure it didn’t happen to other people, if possible.

But this woman and the mini-oranges? I wanted to kick her in the ass. Yes, the checkout clerk was being an asshat who seemed to believe she was above us all and therefore felt communication, politeness, and decent human behavior towards us was completely unnecessary. But really, to get all worked up, wander all over the store and hold up other people from being able to continue with their day, all over $.40? Are you kidding me? And the reason why I deemed the checkout clerk’s attitude to be as I have defined it was because, in all the time I stood there waiting to move on with things, I didn’t get a single, "I’m sorry about this…it shouldn’t be much longer," or a smile, or even any eye contact at all. So not only did she not care that she was fighting these people over a fucking 40 goddammed cents, but she didn’t care that I had to wait for the whole thing to be over and done with.

Then the woman with the mini-oranges realized that her weird purse was unzipped, and was flopping all over the place. It was one of those kinds of bags that have a whole side panel that zips and it’s where all the credit cards go, and she had some other shit stuffed in there as well. Unfortunately, she had unzipped it to its furthest zipping point, and so it was completely open. I had noticed this issue, and was about to tell her about it, but she discovered it before I had to speak to her. So THEN she started moaning about how she hoped she hadn’t dropped anything. "I hope I didn’t lose any cards. I was walking around with it like that! I wonder if I lost any cards while we were here. Do you think I lost any cards? I hope I didn’t lose any cards…" LADY, JUST GO THE FUCK BACK AROUND THE STORE AND CHECK, ALREADY!!! Then again, I would hope that most people might know what they have in their purse at all times, and would be able to take a quick inventory should something like this occur, and be able to tell whether anything had fallen out or not. I could be weird, though. I know what’s in MY purse. Is that weird? Maybe it’s weird…

I should know better when it comes to that store, though. Something happens every time I go there. The first time I went there, I bought one of those roasted chickens. I didn’t have much of anything else, and I was going through the self-checkout to get it, and the person assisting in the self-checkout area was kind of a strange lady. She came over to me, and started talking about how much she looooovvves those chickens. She takes one home just about every night. In fact, sometimes, they have some left over at the store at closing, and they give them to them for free! Can you believe it? Sometimes, when that happens, she takes TWO of them home, just because she can. Because they’re soooo good. Have I tried them before? Oh, they’re sooo good.

I’m so distracted by this, um, friendliness, and I kind of want to get the hell away from it, so I bust a move out the door as quick as possible...forgetting that I had asked for $20 back from the machine on my purchase. So I left $20 there. I recognized my mistake rather quickly after I’d gotten home, so I called the store and spoke to a manager, and he was really sweet about it. The $20 was gone, of course, but he told me he was sorry about what caused me to forget to pick it up (I told him about the unusual chicken soliloquy that had taken place upon checkout time), and he told me to swing by and he’d leave a $20 gift card to the store at the customer service desk for me. Now THAT is customer service, my friends.

At that same location on a different day, I was approached, yet again, by one of the people assisting in the self-checkout area…she just wanted to ask me a quick question. "I’ve seen those before, and I’ve been wondering, what do you use them for?" She was asking about the capers I was purchasing. To me, it’s kind of funny that someone wouldn’t know how to use a caper, but I understand that not everyone loves Italian food as much as I do. Plus, she was so sweet about it, so I told her that I use them in all kinds of Italian cooking, as well as just as an accompaniment for baked chicken or salmon, and that sort of thing. She didn’t know what they taste like, so I told her they’re salty, and tend to go really well in a marinara sauce, or with any kind of fish with lemon, and I even put them into my tuna salad sometimes. She thanked me, and I was on my way again. But to those of you who don’t know how to use a caper/haven’t ever had one before, go ahead and pick up a jar the next time you’re at the supermarket. They’re not expensive, and they’re yummy. Expand your world. Eat a caper.

So I wonder what adventure will befall me on my next visit to the WalMart Grocery on Metcalf and 91st. Hopefully, it will involve more of the caper-type people, and less of the orange-type people. I haven’t ever seen the chicken-obsessed lady in there since that one time, but I really hope I don’t run into another one of those in there again. I can say for sure that they have a pharmacist there that really seems to know his shit. So getting meds there is a safe bet. But as for any of the other people you might run into? Good luck.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

And she was soooo fat....

Ok, enough of the fat posts. On with the show.

Why do people take their children to have their picture taken with "Santa"? Are there any children out there that actually think it's normal, and therefore comfortable, to be placed onto a stranger's lap in order to take pictures with said stranger, and to then tell said stranger what they want for Christmas, if they are indeed old enough to know what they want and to be able to communicate that information to some random dude in a red suit?

I'm confused by this because I remember that I was freaked out by "Santa" when I was a kid. On some subconscious level, I knew it wasn't really "Santa", and therefore, it was ridiculous to even need to get near the guy. "Santa" in a mall at Christmas time was kind of like a clown at a birthday party for me. Steer clear, and everyone will be just fine. Get within 25 feet of me, and someone is losing a nut. (Or a boob, in the case of the girl clowns...) Ok, fine...I wasn't as tough as all that. But they would get my snot all over them, as the crying was likely to be out of control.

But I don't understand what the draw is for a parent to want to have their infant or toddler to be photographed with a strange man in a red fucking suit! What is it? Do you really think that photo won't simply be lost in the mass of randomly clicked photos that you take throughout the child's life? Do you really think that some day, it will be valuable to you and your child to look back on that moment when they sat in the strange lap of a fake Christmas character, as like some sort of growing experience, or something? Why? WHY ARE THE PHOTOS NECESSARY???

I just ask because while it's fun to look at all the horrific photos that people are amassing across the US (and the world) this time of year (Ellen has a whole segment based on looking at bad Santa photos that people send in to her, for example), I think it's rather evil, on some level, for a parent to allow their child to get that freaked out, and they all seem to be doing so voluntarily. And while being evil to children is lots of times very funny to me, I tend to get in trouble for doing nasty things (that're funny, mind you) to my nieces and nephews. So I don't get the double standard here. Someone explain it to me. It's ok for the actual parents of the child to torture them, I s'pose. Is that it? But aunts and uncles aren't allowed? That's just not fair, yo.

Ok, bossman brought me some work to do. Later...

A little bit too quiet...

Hey. Where's everybody at? Am I the only one that's updating/reading during the holidays? Sheesh!

My ass is growing ever wider and wider as each day passes. It's maddening, really. I work out 4 times a week, avoid french fries as much as possible, and try to eat more veggies and fruit to balance out the other stuff I eat. I told the boyfriend last night that I'm going to back off on the alcohol for a while. Maybe just have it on special occasions, or something. I'm already being pretty good about lunches...I bring mine to work most every day. (Last week on Friday was the first time I didn't, and that was because I went to lunch with an old friend I hadn't seen in a while...) But I'm confused about what else I need to do! The boyfriend suggested that maybe we eat Chinese take-out a bit too much. (He likes the chicken lo-mein, and I'm a dumpling fan, myself...) We only have it about once a week, if that, but he has a point. I quit eating fast food about 4 months ago, and while I have bowed to the hamburger meal at McDonald's once or twice since then, it's not nearly as regular as it used to be, and I don't stop through there for breakfast at all anymore. (I used to get it at least once a week...but now it's not as convenient, fortunately for my ass.)

See, I had to go and buy new pants last week, so I can skip wearing skirts to work every now and then. I went to Old Navy, of course, because they have the cheap but still mostly stylish clothes, and they have them in loads of sizes. And I had to buy pants that are a size 18. Which is unacceptable. Especially considering that I work out like I do, and when I do eat crap, it's not completely out of control crap, and it's not as frequent as one would think a size 18 girl might be eating the crap. Maybe I need to step up the work outs? I don't know...there's only so much I can do at 5:30 in the morning without hurting myself. But I'm tired of being afraid to wash my jeans (which are all a size 16, by the way) because I don't want them to be tight when I put them on for the first (and second and third) time I wear them after they've dried! I'm tired of lugging around the boobage that has grown onto me over the past 7 years. I'm tired of hanging on to old clothes, hoping I'll fit into them again someday soon. (This weekend is Major Closet Clean Out Weekend...I'm gonna be ruthless. The boyfriend needs someplace to put his shit, and I need to make way.) I'm not so bad about that as some might be, but I admit that I do have a few things that will never see my body fit into them again.

So I'm having a hard time of it. I showed my boyfriend the new pants last night. I held them up, and saw just how wide they were, and how much material there was to them. And I told him that I was tired of the huge clothing and my fat ass. This morning, I put on the new pants, and he came in the room smiling at me, asking me if they were the new ones, and I said, "Yes, they're the new enormous pants that I had to buy in order to fit my ever-growing, enormous ass!" And he just walked over and hugged me, and kissed me, and then left the room. He's probably getting tired of me talking like I am, and admittedly, while I don't do it very often, it can't be very attractive. I know I need to stop it, and just do something about it. So I'll go back to making seriously bland food without additional salt/sodium in it (which I actually started to like when I last lost some weight...without the salt in the food, you can actually taste the ingredients like the turkey and the tomatoes and the's a strange concept - actually tasting the main ingredients, but I got to liking it a good deal), and if he wants to eat something else, he can do so. If he wants more salt, the shaker is on the counter. Hm...I wonder if I can make his chicken piccata into a more healthy meal? That might be fun to tackle...

Anyway, I'm tired of the fat. I know I've said it before, and I know I'll probably say it again. But this time I'm serious. I wanna lose 10 pounds by the end of January. And I'm gonna do it, dammit.

Friday, December 23, 2005

A quiet little place...

I had to come in to work sort of early this morning, due to the fact that I had to drop boyfriend off at his work on my way (his car battery is completely dead...), and he needed to be there by 7:25 or 7:30. So I was driving across the state line in a totally relaxed manner, without any worry of being late, which is a switch for me, as I'm usually about 10 minutes late every day. (You'd think I'd have been able to fix that by the time the 2nd week rolls around, but no...I haven't.)

Of course, it is the Friday before Christmas, which means that loads of people have taken the day off, and thus the streets are quieter than normal anyway. But being out and about that early, I saw a city that runs at a slower that isn't that is enjoying the walk with the dog or the run in the that isn't in a rush to get around the dumptruck that is backing into the construction area, blocking the street we need to drive down to get to work. There's a stone wall at the top of the hill that I drive down as I enter the Plaza where my office is...I noticed the other day that someone must've hit the corner of the wall, as it was kind of piled in a weird way. (The car bumper lying next to it also clued me in as to what might've happened...) This morning, I saw that two guys were rebuilding the wall, and they were talking as they stacked the stones in the new cement they had laid. They looked as though they were having a good time doing their job. It might help that it's about 45 degrees out right now, and it's supposed to possibly hit 60 later this afternoon, as I'm sure they wouldn't have been looking quite so comfy and happy if the wind chill was at 15 degrees, like it usually is this time of year. But it was just nice to see, is my point. It's nice to see people that are happy.

I like the world at this pace. It's's's my kind of place. Wish it could stay like this all the time...

Thursday, December 22, 2005

So here's what I'm thinkin' right now...

Monkeys are funny. Especially ones that have funny, big mouths, like the ones on this toy. I like monkeys like that. They're cute, and their faces make me smile.

Gorillas scare me. They're too big, they seem unpredictable and erratic...they aren't cool. I saw one pick shit out of it's own ass in order to throw at people when I was at the zoo in San Diego once. I don't like gorillas much at all since then. It's a nasty memory to have.

And orangutans. I HATE those things. They aren't funny, they aren't fun to watch. They're like clowns. They creep me out. Especially when someone puts them into a diaper, or something. That just skeeves the shit out of me.

And that's what I've been thinking this afternoon.

Heading to the land o' NyQuil

I can feel it...I'm coming down with something for sure now. My throat hurts a bit (it's all dry and scratchy), and this morning, when I woke up at 4:45 to put my contacts into their funky solution, my sinuses were a bit stuffy. It's in the early stages, so I'm keeping myself Airborned up, and taking extra vitamins before bed, so hopefully I can keep it at a low-level cold rather than a FULL-BLOWN NASTY. Because no one likes to have the full-blown nasty. Uh-uh. (I'm blaming the new office for whatever it is I'm getting, though. My coworker has strep, another one has a cold that has NOT been pretty to listen to...and all I know is that now, I want to sleeeeep. I'd pay them if they let me go home and go back to bed today.) But I'll push through it! I WILL NOT bow to the virus!! I'm drinking a Coca-Cola Zero (the Diet Coke wasn't cold...and I'm not in the mood to put something on ice...), and I already did some work and it wasn't even 8:30 yet, so I'm trying!

Fortunately, it's gonna be a long weekend, and today and tomorrow should be rather quiet days. I hope.

So today, I come in, and first thing I see is an e-mail from some random business partner that I cc'd on a proposal I sent out to one of her clients yesterday. One of my bosses had called me to give me the info for the proposal. I needed to send it to a Pat Smith, Esq.*, and he gave me the address to put on the letter, the info regarding the content, and he asked me to put it onto our letterhead. No problem, I told him. He got back to the office at about 4:30, looked over the letter, and said it was great and asked me to e-mail it out. So I did. And I cc'd him as well as the business partner chick that's involved in the deal. And in her e-mail to me that I saw this morning, it said, "The Pat I spoke to this morning is a woman!" And that's it. And she addressed it to me...only me. Not my boss as well.

Now, I could be wrong (doubtful, but always possible), but I don't recall my boss ever saying anything about Pat being a chick when he asked me to pull all this shit together. The e-mail content that was forwarded to me from him didn't alude to the sex of Pat, and I just didn't even think about clarifying whether it was a woman or a fact, I think I remember him saying, "And he's Pat Smith, Esq., so don't forget the 'esquire' on the end of the name..." And I didn't. I addressed the letter to Mr. Pat Smith, Esq., as boss looked it over and said it was great, and I should send it out...I sent out the e-mail and said, "Per Boss Man's* request, I am forwarding this proposal to you for your review..." So, why did this business partner bitch write ME back? Obviously, I'm the admin doing something per the request of my boss!! Hence the reason for the phrase, "Per Boss Man's request..."

So I forwarded her e-mail on to Boss Man, told him I was sorry for making such a blunder, and I will be sure to clarify such information in the future. I asked him if he thought I should reply to the business partner bitch's note to let her know that obviously, I was unaware of the sex of Pat Smith, and would be happy to apologize if she thought it would be appropriate. He's not in yet, so I'm not sure what his response will be, but he's a pretty cool guy. I'm imagining that he'll see business partner bitch's tone the same way I did, and that he would respond to her the same way I'd want to if I could, which would be to say, "How the FUCK was I supposed to know that?"

I know it's a teeny mistake, and Pat Smith probably deals with it all the time, but since I'm not feeling well, I'm dwelling on it. Bleh. Oh well. The day will turn, I'm sure. Since Friday is just around the corner now, I'm just gonna keep looking forward to that, and try to forget about teeny mistakes, and people calling me on them. Because that's what kick-ass chicks like myself do.

*Names have been changed to protect my ass. Der.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

HelLOOO? Need a little help over here!

Ok, so I plea for help from the masses (a.k.a. the perhaps 10 people that read this thing on a daily basis...there are at least 10 of you, right? Right?? I thought so...) on ideas for Christmas presents for my sweetie , and I get a suggestion to buy my boyfriend some lube???

COME OOOONNNNN!! While the lube was a fantastic idea (Duncan, the boyfriend and I joke about buying lube all the time...but it's to be used for a specific purpose, and I don't want to give him the idea that I'm ready for such specific occassions to occur. Not just yet...), I'm afraid that if I bring that stuff into my house voluntarily, I will constantly be badgered to a point where I'm directing the boyfriend to either "can it, or sleep in the garage", and I don't think that's appropriate for our stage in the relationship.

Please. Help me. Again, the lube was a great idea...seriously. But I need some more. Bring it on, bitches...

Burning a hole in the pocket...

Boyfriend gave me a lovely digital camera for Christmas...I opened it early because we went to a birthday party for one of his friends last night, and he wanted me to take pictures with it. Besides blinding everyone in the dark restaurant at dinner with it (it apparently has a special laser-show functionality as a flash that becomes super-obvious when in particularly darkened locations...), it was a fun little camera to use, and we took a bunch of pictures at the restaurant and back at the friend's house where we went to have cake and open presents after dinner. I might post some of the pics later. Boyfriend downloaded them into the computer at home last night, so I can pull them out of that when I get home later.

I feel pretty bad about just getting him long underwear, a sweater, and the iPod dealios I got him, though. (The iPod stuff consists of accessories for the Nano he owns...two different iPod covers, and a pair of replacement headphones for the pair that he broke and really likes the most out of any of the kinds they sell at the store...) I'm thinking I need to find another fun gift for him today, but I'm not sure what he might want/what might be fun for a boy to get this year. Any boys (or girls, for that matter) that read this have any suggestions for randomly fun presents you might like to receive on Christmas morning from someone? I work on the Plaza, and can go out at lunch to browse...we have a Sharper Image here, and a Barnes & Noble, and a Discovery Store, and all that sort of stuff. I wanna get him something that he's not expecting at all. Something that would be the complete opposite on the "fun scale" from where a pair of longjohns might be. Gimme some help!! Thankooo...

Ok, off to work. Well, off to find some work, really. Things are kind of quiet this week, so work has been scarce thus far. I have Christmas cards to fill out, and random projects here and there that land on my desk, so that's all good. I'll keep busy, somehow...:)

Tuesday, December 20, 2005


Last night, I drank a few of the kind of beer that I should avoid, as it causes the bowels within to gurgle unhappily all day the next day, and I'm paying for it today, that's for sure. I wanna get it oooouuuuuut! But I will refrain**. I'm getting closer to the point where I can let stuff like that go at the office, but I'm not quite there yet. Maybe after the holiday. (Then again, it might be the kind of issue where I haven't any control over whether it comes out or not. Hm. It's definitely feeling a bit uncontrollable, now that I think about it. So now I can't even go and pee like I need to. Great.)

Got to work this morning, and realized that the stench that had started up in the fridge yesterday had gotten a bit worse today. So I began to search it out. There are a couple of to-go containers in there that seem to have been forgotten, so that could've been it. But then I saw it. There was a large tupperware container with it's lid partially off, and I was betting that the smell was coming from that. So I picked it up, and Lordy, I'm not sure what was in that thing to begin with, but it was super-unidentifyable. It looked to be the shape of lasagna, or something. But it was covered in green and white fuzz, so I couldn't figure it out. Not that I was looking all that hard. My first instinct was to throw the fucker away! But then it'd be hanging out in the trash can all day, smelling up the kitchen, and that's not cool. So I tried to close the lid, and I finally was able to (it was like the air inside of the container was too foul to allow the lid to close!), and I put it back in the fridge with the plan in mind to make sure to throw it away before I leave today. But then a couple of coworkers came in, and I mentioned The Thing, and they were scoffing about how the receptionist is supposed to clean out the fridge each week, and how unfortunate that we don't have a regular receptionist right now, and I tell them, NO, you don't understand! This is not regular funk in the fridge! So I pulled it out, and they both recoiled in horror, as one would expect, and suggested that I go ahead and throw it out. (Since I was able to get the lid to close on the thing, I felt better about doing that...sort of. But if that lid pops open again, I'm telling you, I'm glad my desk is as far from that room as it is...) So I put it in the trash, washed my hands, and headed back to my desk to eat my bagel. Because it takes a LOT to get me to lose my appetite. You know what? I don't think it's ever really happened, when I think about it. Interesting.

I don't have much of anything interesting to say, if you couldn't tell, and I can't think of a way to make the boring shit sound funny yet, so I'll let this be the end of the post for now. (Sorry to all of you that hate it when I talk about shitting. Unfortunately for you, it's the most interesting thing happening to me at this point in the day, now that the funk from the fridge has been dealt with. Don't you wish you were me?)

**Change of plans. I had to let it drop, and so I did. Just an FYI, it smelled like roses, it did.

Monday, December 19, 2005

You'd better watch out, part two

So, the inevitable is upon us. Pepperdine plays KU tonight at 6 CST. (The game will be televised on ESPN2, fyi...) Years ago, one of my KU friends asked me what I'd do if this ever happened. "Who will you root for?" he asked me. I told him that my loyalty lies with Pepperdine, obviously (it's my alma mater, duh...), but I'd be surprised if they won. Either way, I'm happy for them both. The last time they played each other was back in 1996, I think, and this is a good season for them to play each other, as they're both heading into the game with only 4 wins (regular season wins) each. So, GO PEPPERDINE!! And KU! WOO!!!

Boyfriend and I were planning on going to the game, but I told him that if it was going to be on t.v., there wasn't really any point in wasting the cash on it. $20 for parking, and at least $40 a piece for tickets? No point, really. I'm a fan, but not THAT big of a fan right now. I'm more of a fan of money, to be honest. Is that terrible? It is, isn't it? Oh well...

Boyfriend and I actually have this little argument sort of often. I'm a fan of more than 1 school, which can be a bit confusing, apparently. I like all things Pepperdine, for the previously stated reason. I'm a fan of USC football because (a) my sisters went there, my bro-in-law went there, and I wanted to go there, but dad wouldn't let me; and (b) because they kick ass. I'm a fan of KU basketball because when I moved to KC back in 1996, I met and fell in love with the dead boyfriend, and he and all of his friends went to KU. I started watching them play early on that season, and got hooked. I love KU. End of story. I like Notre Dame football for a few reasons now. First, my mother was always a fan, because her dad was a fan. Not sure why. Mom also always loved to root for the underdog, and let's face it, until recently, Notre Dame has been just that for a good part of the last 30 years. Now I have reason #3 to be a fan, which is that the boyfriend is from South Bend, and grew up working at the stadium selling programs during football games. He's a HUGE ND fan, even though he didn't go to school there, and neither did any of his brothers so far. I'm pretty sure his younger brother is aiming to play soccer there when he's in college, which must mean he wants to go to school there as well. But he's only 13, so it remains to be seen, doesn't it?

Anyway, I'm a fan of 4 different teams, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Go ahead, make fun if you will. I'm used to it. :P

You better watch out...

USPS kicks booty. I just will not be able to get out and send a package today that I need to send. But I can create a label and have it picked up at my office instead, which is nifty as hell, IMO. As I hate going to the post office (the people there scare me), this is the best solution ever to all of my postage needs. Unfortunately for them, I rarely send packages, and I buy stamps about twice a year. But it's nice to know they offer options for getting those things done that don't involve me needing to go to the actual post office itself.

My sweater I'm wearing today is a new one from Target I bought a couple of weeks ago. It has now successfully shed all over the black skirt I'm wearing (the sweater is gray), and it's sort of itchy. But it's cute and fits me well, so I'm forgiving it's shortcomings. For now. (It will pay later when we get home. Oh will pay...)

Tonight is the holiday party at boyfriend's place o' business, a.k.a. The Moose. It doesn't start until 10, and I can't stay past midnight, tops, but it'll be a fun party I think. Mostly because I know everyone that works there, which makes it so much less daunting of a task than normal office/work holiday parties. He told me this morning that he needs to take a white elephant gift, and started looking around my house for stuff he can take. I know he was joking, and he said he'd find something that belonged to him, really, but I told him to look through my books. I've got a ton of them, and I'm sure I can part with at least a couple. I think the self-help books that I've gotten from my dad over the years would be good choices. There are definitely a few people at his work that could use some self-helping. I have a candle-holder in my kitchen that I've used about once that I received for a housewarming gift when I moved into the house, too. That might be a good choice. White elephant gifts rock, yo.

Ok, I'm off to figure out how I'm gonna pay for the real estate classes I need to take in February now. $395 just for the MO classes alone! Sheesh. (Work should cover half of it, IMO. But is it too soon for me to go throwing that sort of weight around this place? Not too sure about that...)

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Sunday Funday

I live in a snowglobe. A perpetual snowglobe. Big pieces of snow keep falling from the sky off and on lately, and coating the ground with a quarter inch to a half inch of snow over the last 24 hours. My car hates the slippery ground, but driving is required right now, unfortunately. Good thing it looks so damned pretty while it's doing it.

2 weeks until the bowl games start. I'm all a-flutter. Got my first bet on the Texas/USC game last night. It's only $20, but it's a start. :)

I'm afraid I might be coming down with something. I hate it when I'm coming down with something. Feels all ooky and shit. Bleh.

Today, I am dedicating myself to cleaning the house, making some food for the week, and wrapping presents. I really need to get my shit together and send Christmas things to family. It's just cards, but's important, you know? I'm so terrible at keeping up with stuff like that!

Christmas is only a week away, muthafuckas. Hope you're all prepared for the end of the year. Tax returns are right around the corner...yay!

Friday, December 16, 2005

Soooo tired...

Boyfriend came bouncing into the bedroom at about 11:25 last night after he got off work. Unfortunately, I'd gone to bed at 10:40, so he woke me out of a sound sleep. He was saying something about changing the alarm, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why he wanted to change the code to the house alarm! Then I realized he meant the alarm clock, and I reminded him that I'm up at 6:30 anyway every day, and in fact this morning was going to be one of my early mornings when I get up at 5:20 to get on the treadmill. (FYI, I'm his alarm in the morning. He doesn't wake up when the alarm clock goes off...he's not very much of a morning person...)

But then I couldn't go back to sleep. My brain started working against me, and then I was itchy all over, and then I had a pain in my ankle, so at least I finally could justify taking a few Advil. When boyfriend finally came to bed (he had decided to sit and read a bit and have a glass of wine before coming in, I guess...), I was a bit whiny, and asked him if I'd done something to make him mad, since he'd slept sitting up on the couch the night before, and then he came in so late last night...he apologized for being neglectful of me lately, and told me that, no, I hadn't done anything to make him mad. I felt bad about being whiny, but told him that I was afraid we were turning into a situation where I like him more than he likes me. (Don't ask me why I thought that...I'm exhausted, and my brain is NOT on my side right now, seriously...) He assured me that he loves me more than ever. I whined on a bit more, but it's all irrelevant now, really. I kept telling him I was sorry for whining, and that I was just super-tired, and not able to sleep, which always puts me in a crappy mood. I'm pretty sure he understood. Weird thing? I think my whining turned him on. He got all touchy-feely at one point, and I had to shut him down, unfortunately. I couldn't possibly do sex the justice it deserved being as tired as I was. Uh-uh. I'm hoping he'll get back in that mood tonight...and perhaps a bit earlier than 12:45 a.m. We'll see...

Anyway, I'm tired today. It shows, apparently...the receptionist asked me what was wrong when I walked in. Given, I have to walk up a flight of stairs right before I get to her desk, and being as tired as I am, that wasn't especially my fave part of the morning, but I hate that I look haggard at all. I'm looking forward to a quiet night tonight...maybe a movie rental and some take-out that the boyfriend and I can bring home. Hope everyone has a great Friday!

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Reruns...gotta love 'em.

Although it's been said many times, many ways...

How the FUCK do retarded* people get driver's licenses, huh? I had at least 3 mentally challenged** people in front of me on my way to work this morning, no joke. My brain became occupied with questions about how they were able to slide by on the written exam, and how in GOD'S NAME they ever passed the driving evaluation!

I actually remember my driving exam. I missed 2 questions on the written (I can't remember which ones they were...) and in my driving evaluation, I had trouble backing up in a straight line along a curb. So I was marked off 1 point for that. Seriously. (I have since become an expert in backing up in a straight line. Many years of beach-going and attending a school with incredibly crappy parking gave me skeeills, y'all...) Since then, I have attended Traffic School (for speeding violations) 4 times. (In California, they have a point system on licenses. If you get pulled over for speeding, it can count against you over time. If, for example, a person gets pulled over for speeding 4 times in 1 year, I'm pretty sure their license can be suspended and/or revoked. So they offer traffic school as a way of clearing the "points" off your record. You can't attend traffic school more than once in 18 months - used to be 12, but they changed that loooong ago - and you have to pay for both the price of the class as well as the charge for the ticket. It's a decent system, and I've always sort of enjoyed traffic school...) So I have re-learned the ways of our traffic laws many times over. Questions that are asked most frequently: 1.)Will a cop pull you over if you’re going with the flow of traffic? Yes, they will. 2.) Can you pull out of a designated turn lane if you change your mind and realize you need to go straight instead? No, you can’t. And my all-time favorite, usually asked by the older or foreign drivers in the class: 3.)Why was I pulled over and ticketed for going the speed limit in the fast lane/carpool lane on the freeway? Well, because impeding traffic is just as bad an offense as speeding through it is, dumbass. And you were pulled over for your own safety, because the truck driver behind you was about to pull his shotgun out of it’s secret spot and take care of your impeding ass forevah, kay?

Anyway, I know my shit when it comes to driving. I know that if two people get to the stop sign at the same time, the one on the right has the right of way (I don’t know why, but I know that’s the rule…), and while that rule becomes increasingly confusing if 3 or even 4 people hit a 4-way stop at the same time, it still applies. I also know that you’re usually safe going about 5 miles an hour over the speed limit on side-streets. Anything above that will guarantee you getting pulled over. And if you’re on the freeway (or surface street, for that matter), and the person next to you turns on their turn signal to indicate their intent/need to get over, it is illegal to pass them. That’s right, folks. It’s illegal. Basically, if you can see their rear signal blinking, and you pass them anyway, then you can be pulled over. If you’re next to them, or if you have to significantly adjust your speed to accommodate their need, then obviously, use your best judgment, but to not let them over isn’t only mean and kind of a dick-move, but it’s a ticketable offense.

Ok, that’s all the time I have this morning for traffic lessons, unfortunately. Gotta go track a dude down and find his mailing address, and then use a nifty machine to make a copy of a big ol’ document…FUN!

*It should go without saying that I am not, in any way, bagging on actual retarded people, here. Just wanted to make sure everyone knew that.
**Same as above. I’m not making fun of people that are, indeed, mentally challenged. Because that would just be mean. And I’m not mean like that. I swear.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Just a couple things, then I gotta go...

Why is it whenever I mention poo in a post, I always get at least one "TMI" comment? Does this happen to Dooce? She's famous for graphically describing the wonders of her bowels (and her hubby's, and her baby's, etc...), so I wonder if she gets shit about her shit? (And I know it's all in good fun, by the way...I don't mind the "TMI" comments, really.)

Boyfriend and I settled in to watch the reruns of Sex & the City on TBS last night, and the first episode dealt with Carrie and Aidan trying to get around the combo of stuff in the apartment after they decided to move in with each other. This got me thinking, and I asked the boyfriend what we'd do with all his stuff if he ever moved in. Then I thought some more, realized he really is living with me right now, and I asked him, "Do you ever think that it's a complete waste for you to be paying rent for an apartment at this point?" He had been on the same track and answered immediately, "Yeah, that's something I've been considering lately." I asked him when his lease is up, he said soon, and we left it at that. We can't fit a bunch more stuff into my house, that's for sure. And the split on the closet is gonna be hell for me, really. But it's seeming to head in that direction. Not that it'd be weird to have him officially Living With Me, since he's pretty much been at my house consistently since the beginning of November, and for the 3 months prior to that, he was basically just going home on Wednesday nights. It's just the combination of stuff/rearranging of my house that freaks me out at this point.

Work is going well. I like it here, and they seem to like me so far. Yesterday, I was busy the entire day, which was nice. I had time for my lunch, and made the mistake of leaving my parking spot to go and get a soda, and when I came back, all parking spots in the structure closest to work (that we're allowed to park in, that is) were gone, and they were towing people that were parked in "illegal" locations. So I had to go a few blocks down the street to another structure to park. Turned out to not be all that big a deal, though. The walk wasn't bad, I had plenty o' time, and there was a TON more parking on the second structure I went to. But I still don't think I'll be driving anywhere during lunch hour again anytime soon. Not until after Christmas, at least...

Ok, off to find some work to do. Ta!

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

I'm gonna blame the meatballs...

My ass isn't an enjoyable part of my anatomy right now. Being in a new office yesterday, I didn't feel appropriate letting go of anything that might've wanted to escape, so I didn't shit all day. Then, for some reason (possibly in a subconscious attempt to see just how far I could push this need-to-shit-but-not-gonna envelope), I didn't go when I went home, or when I was sitting on the couch watching t.v. with the boyfriend last night. When I finally decided to just release, already, it was right before bed. And that was not a pleasant experience, believe me. It continued into today. But the last time I went, I felt pretty ok, so it might be getting better. Maybe.

I hate shitting. I know it's necessary and all, but I hate it. The food smells so goooood going in! Why does it have to turn all putrid and nasty while it's making it's way through my system, dropping off nutritional goodness as required along the way? I don't get it. I suppose that's why I'm not a doctor or a biologist or something, though.

Okeydoke...lunchtime! Woo! (Heh...)

Monday, December 12, 2005

It's got that new job smell...

I'm at the new job. Things are going well. Don't wanna push my luck by hanging out here very long, but thought I'd update quickly.

So far, I've pissed off my printer, typed and sent a letter, sat in a motivational meeting that lasted 3 hours, and am currently searching for healthcare providers online as best I can. It's not going well. I finally had to fill out one of those forms that say they'll have a rep get back to me, sort of thing. I hate that shit. But, I need healthcare, and I need to figure it all out soon, so I guess if that's the most efficient way to do it, well, so be it.

It's nice to have someplace to go besides to my couch to flip channels, or to my garage to do laundry. And this office is sooo, soooo nice, it's lovely. Everyone is dressed well, and they're fun and silly at times. I can't figure out my doesn't appear to have a "hold" button, which is weird, but I'm sure I'll figure that out over time. Not too many phone calls coming in right now, anyway.

Ok, I'm gonna go flip through some books to get a feel for the marketing that they do/that I'll have to help with, and spend my last hour of the day getting familiar with that sort of thing. Bye!

Sunday, December 11, 2005

I'd highly suggest staying home today...

Did everyone know it's National Asshat Day today? I was unaware. I wish the Asshats would warn those of us non-asshats when it's approaching, but I guess that's part of why they're Asshats, right? Right.

Scene: Faith going to get a sammich from Mr. Goodcents at about noon. The village is a mess...filled with people who have just gotten out of church, and are looking for food and shopping, etc...Faith first must drop off some Pepcid for boyfriend at his work, since he forgot to take it this morning. Done with that, she heads to the center of the village, where she encounters Asshat #1.

Asshat #1 feels it's unneccessary to stop at the stop sign posted at the intersection. Faith puts on nasty face for first time today, stares down Asshat #1, and moves along in front of her because it was Faith's turn to go, dammit, and Asshat #1 should have stopped at her stop sign. Faith is successful in pulling this off. However, Asshat #2 is just around the corner, waiting to ambush Faith with their asshole meneuvering in the parking lot.

No parking spots in the general vicinity of the sammich shop forces Faith to park along with some other creative folk who have made their own parking spaces in front of the hardware store. No biggy...doesn't say we can't park there, so this works out fine. Unfortunately, Swiss Family Asshat are exiting their car at the same time as Faith, and Father Asshat, instead of using his brain and thinking of someone other than himself, opens the door to the sammich shop and gets in line right in front of Faith. Let's see...he's gonna order 4 sammiches, and Faith is ordering 1 sammich for herself. Is he a jerk? We think so. Again, it's National Asshat Day, though, so really, it's Faith's fault for having abandoned the tuna salad she made at home in favor of going out for the meatball sammich she's been craving for a month.

Father Asshat has 3 children with him. They seem to know what they want, but they keep fucking wandering off instead of telling the sammich makers what they need to do next to complete their sammiches. Asshats beget asshats, though, so Faith silently seeths to herself, and pities the outcome of these poor children who had no choice but to be birthed and raised by Asshats. It really is sad, when you think of it. Meanwhile, Mother Asshat joins Father Asshat, adding yet another sammich to the list they are ordering. Faith is tempted to ask if they have another 5 people hiding just outside that are planning on joining them at the last second, and if they wanna butt into line in front of Faith to do so. But she refrains, and bites her tongue as best she can.

Finally, Faith is able to order. Half of a meatball on white, no cheese, add olives. And yes, it's to go. Because it seems the sammich shop is where the asshats prefer to celebrate their national day, and Faith wants to get the fuck home ASAP.

Faith pays for her sammich, and goes to fill up her soda before she leaves. Father Asshat knows ALL of the Asshats that have come to celebrate at the sammich shop, and is standing in front of the soda dispenser to talk to another one he's run into. Faith grabs a lid for her soda, and starts to edge toward the machine. Father Asshat moves finally, but it's because his three children have showed up, and wanna fill their drinks. Faith has HAD it, though, and says, "I'm going to fill mine up first, honey. Sorry." She gets some ice, she fills her soda, and she steps aside to put the lid on and get her straw in the cup. In doing so, she has left her sammich in a vulnerable spot right in front of the iced tea dispenser. Son Asshat is getting iced tea, for some reason. Now, being that he is the child of Father Asshat, he apparently hasn't been taught any manners, and almost pushes Faith aside to get to the dispenser. No biggy...Faith realizes he needs space to do this and moves a bit. But then, while waiting for the iced tea to fill his cup, Son Asshat rests his arms on the counter around Faith's sammich!!! So Faith has to say, "Excuse me, can I get my sandwich?" To which Son Asshat replies, "Nice manners," in such a condescending tone, that Faith has to figure out how NOT to dump her entire 36 ounce Diet Coke over his head to show him just what bad manners actually are. Mercifully, though, Mr. Smartypants Son Asshat moves, and Faith can grab her sammich and just get the FUCK out of there. God bless it.

Finally home, Faith takes off her coat, and goes into the kitchen to adjust the sammich so she can eat it. She opens the box. FUCK. There is CHEESE on the sammich! It's a hot sammich, and so the cheese has melted to a point that it can't simply be removed. (Faith doesn't eat cheese, or any dairy products, as they cause her to break out, and to get horrible stomach aches and the runs.) Faith has to put her coat back on, and head back out into the center of National Asshat celebration in order to get her sammich fixed. She is very glad that she refrained from telling Son Asshat that he should really watch himself and make sure he doesn't grow up to be a self-centered asshat like his father is, because Swiss Family Asshat got their food and stayed to eat it in the shop, and she knew they'd still be there when she went back.

Faith is nice to the guy that made the mistake on her sammich. After all, that guy is making her a new one, and she doesn't want any form of bodily fluid to be added to the sammich in addition to the olives. Plus, he gives her a free sammich card to use in the future to make up for the mistake, which is pretty damned cool. As Faith waits for the new sammich to be made, she glances over at Swiss Family Asshat, and notices that Son Asshat is looking at her with a smirk on his face. She non-chalantly flips him off, but he doesn't seem to notice. Either that, or he's used to being flipped off, as he is, after all, Son Asshat, begotten by Father Asshat, King of Self-centerdness, and doesn't really pay attention to it any more when it happens. Faith gets her new sammich, says thanks, and goes home. The sucky thing? The sammich wasn't worth it. She realizes after finishing it that she should have stayed home, drank the Diet Pepsi w/ Lime in her fridge, and eaten the tuna salad she'd made with pretzels. Hind sight is 20/20, though.

Faith is supposed to meet her friends to watch the Chiefs game at the Moose at 3:15. Faith is pretty sure that the Asshats of the world aren't aware of this secret meeting, and that only cool people go to the Moose on Sundays at 3:15, so she can safely avoid any Asshatery while there. It's the drive to and from that has her freaked out, though. She is contemplating how she can succesfully avoid all Asshats in between home and the Moose, so she can keep her blood pressure down. Can this be achieved? She'll keep you posted...

Watch out for Asshats today. That is all.

Friday, December 09, 2005

I'm still grateful.

I'm grateful that my relationship with the boyfriend has evolved to a point where he can listen to a criticism I have of him without getting too hurt, and then he visibly attempted to change accordingly no less than 12 hours after I brought it up. It should be mentioned that said action was rewarded when we went to bed last night, and he made it clear he was in the mood for some lovin'.

(I'm also grateful that I've found a lovely man like him...when I asked him if he missed me while he was at work the other day, he answered, "I always miss you when you aren't around," in such a matter-of-fact way that I almost started to cry.)

I'm grateful for fabulous blog-friends that have cool-ass music I can download into my playlist and listen to as I type posts. It's so nice to find people that are not only entertaining, but who also happen to be entertained by a lot of the same things I am. Hot damn!

I'm grateful for beer. N'uff said.

I'm grateful for my savvy saving skills that have allowed me to live without a job for the last month and a half, and still give me the ability to go out and buy a few lovely presents for my honey for Christmas.

I'm grateful for Advil. Because aches and pains suck ass.

I'm grateful for college football, muthafuckas!! Hell yeah!

I'm grateful for having a Twin that got her period before me when we were growing up. Because the older sisters got all the teasing out of their systems long before I got mine almost a year later.

I'm grateful to have been born in the 20th century. What would I do without my car, indoor plumbing, hair dryers, current make-up, t.v., or faux down comforters? I'd be a walking mess, I'm sure.

Ok, that Advil thing? I'm not kidding...I have a headache THIS BIG, so I'd best go take some before it takes over my brain forevah!

See, Thanksgiving may have come and gone, but I don't need a holiday to help me think of things to be grateful for. Make a list of your own. Puts you in a good mood, guaranteed...

Man, this is the life!

It's so nice to know that I have a job to return to on Monday...

Wait, I MUST interrupt my own post for this. Anyone else tired of that Cingular or Verizon or whatever fucking provider commercial there is with the guy singing the Dukes of Hazard theme song along with the phone as it plays it for his ringtone? I AM!!! I'd like it to go 'way, please. Just the fact that that song is what he calls his "theme song" makes me feel sad for him. I don't get it...

Ok, anyway, I was out shoveling the snow off my drive yesterday and it just felt so good to know that I have the time to do this shit this week, but next week, I'll be back in the world of the living, doing my earning money thang. So today is my last Friday off for a while. I took advantage and slept until 10:30, and am sitting around in my sweats as I pay bills online, eat some "breakfast", and watch E!'s countdown of the top 101 Most Unforgettable SNL Moments. (I've been waiting 2 days to see them get to the top 20...and it's finally on. Yay!!) I'm gonna put on some jeans pretty soon and head out to find Christmas presents for the boyfriend, though. First, I must compare prices on items at different stores, though. So I'd better hop to it...

Happy Friday, everyone! Have a great weekend...

Thursday, December 08, 2005


We got a shit ton of snow yesterday here in KC. More than we've had fall in December in many, many years, it seems. It was cool...I didn't have to go anywhere. But boyfriend was planning on going back to his apartment last night for the first time in over a month, and he wound up coming back here instead because of it. That was fine, but I needed to shovel the driveway to be sure he could get in ok, and that was a bit of a workout. It was my upper-body for the day, though, so that worked out well. And it was relatively easy snow. It was light and fluffy, rather than the usual wet and heavy shit we get around here. So I was able to push it off the driveway more than anything, and that made it go fast. Unfortunately, it kept snowing after I shoveled, and we wound up with about another 4 and a half inches. Boyfriend says he thinks we don't need to shovel again, so I'll trust him on that. I might get out there and do it again later after he leaves for work, anyway. It makes my back hurt like a bitch, but again, it's a good workout, so I'm not complaining too much.

Tonight is $1.50 beers at the Moose. I can't wait to celebrate my new job with my friends! Looking forward to this day, fo sho...

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

What else would I be doing?

Yep, I'm cooking again. Filling my snowy day today with laundry, roasting of potatoes and onions, and then getting on the treadmill soon. I swear, I am. I swear...

I kinda wish I could go home for Christmas this year, just so I can cook a bit for the fam, and show them all what a little time off can help me do. I'm not bad at cooking, actually. I always thought I was, especially when it comes to baking things, but watching Food Network and seeing how things are supposed to be done has really helped, I think. Tonight, I'm gonna pan-sear some halibut with capers and white wine, and then finish it off in the oven. I'm gonna have the potatoes and onions and some steamed asparagus on the side. See? I. Kick. Ass.

Not spending Christmas at home this year is becoming a bigger deal than I thought it would be. I didn't go home a couple of years ago for the first time, and it seemed like everything was fine. I had a boyfriend at the time (Dickhead, for those of you who remember my past nicknames for boyfriends), and we spent Christmas eve over at his parents' house having dinner and opening presents, and then went to his best friend's family's house for Christmas day/night. We ate shrimp coctails and drank beer and other things, and had meatballs (they were eating cheese ravioli with it, but I just had the meatballs, of course...) and salad...they let me watch the Laker game when it was on, and we played games with the kids and the was a blast! Unfortunately, I drank anything that was put in front of me, and wound up quite drunk at the end of it all. I didn't make a fool of myself while I was with the new people, and Dickhead was nice to me later when I couldn't sleep, but I also couldn't throw up for some reason. It worked out alright. It was weird not being at home, but it was ok, overall.

Last year, I went home. I went home for about 6 days, as I recall. Since Christmas was on a Saturday, work was off on Friday. So I flew to Cali on Wednesday, and didn't return until the following Tuesday. By the time Monday rolled around, I'd had a fight with both of my older sisters, and my brother and his fiance at the time (now his wife) wound up leaving at one point, because the house was so out of control. My twin had said exactly what was on her mind to the oldest sister, the next oldest kept telling me that I was an angry person and she felt bad because I was clearly so sad. (Um, for the record, I wasn't ever sad...just pissed off because people were bugging the shit out of me, and I don't keep my emotions to myself when I'm irritated and pissed off, der.) She told me at one point that I had hurt her feelings because I was grossed out by her suggestion that I should try dating my step-brother. (I've talked about this before...sometime last January or February, I think it was...I'm not gonna re-hash the whole thing for the sake of this synopsis, though, so go check the archives if you're interested...January and February were entertaining months last year - full of Dave crap and work crap and family crap. It's worth checking it out if you don't know what I'm talking about.) Aaanyway, Christmas wound up becoming a big pile of poo last year. Christmas day itself was lovely. It was just the breakdown of shit after that that got abnoxious.

So that left an icky taste in my mouth, obviously. I visited again last May, at which point I went to a concert with the Twin, visited with Dad and Stepmom and brother and his wife and their new baby one of the days I was there, and then I flew home as quick as I'd landed, it seemed. But it was enough for me at this point in time. For the last year, my life has been full of job uncertainty, problems with men, and then luck with one man, and basically, I've been feeling my way around, trying to figure out what to do with myself for a good part of it. Going home and visiting people (whom I love and would LOVE to see, of course), just isn't a big part of the end of this troublesome year for me. What I'm looking forward to is waking up on Christmas morning, making some yummy food (I'm thinking eggs, turkey bacon, and some Pillsbury cinnamon rolls) and having breakfast with my man, and then opening presents and relaxing a bit before he has to go to work that night.

I think the problem is that I'm the first one of the kids to do this sort of thing. To stay away from home on Christmas, and to not be a part of the family on that day. This bothers my dad a bit, and I guess I can see where he's coming from. But I am planning a visit in March, to celebrate his birthday, as well as the older sister's and brother's birthday, and that should be a very good time. There's less of a chance of having to deal with snowy travel in March, and I'll have been at the job for a longer time at that point, so it should be easier to take a couple of days off. Plus, I want the boyfriend to come home with me to see where I grew up and to meet the family, and he can't do that as soon as Christmas, unfortunately. In fact, with some changes that are being made at his work, it's questionable that he'll be able to get away in March. But we'll see.

I love my family. I'd love to see them at such a warm, lovely special time of the year such as Christmas. But I'm a growing girl. I need to focus on my life most of the time, and unfortunately, that means that I can't always do the traditional, acceptable-to-the-family things. Someday, I'll be more settled, like I was last year, and I'll be able to get together with the family the way they want me to, when they want me to, according to their rules. In the meantime, I guess I'm here to mix things up a bit, and throw a curve-ball in their direction. It's ok with me. I just wish it would be ok with them.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Ok that last post sucked, so I wanna remedy that...

I'm tired of my sucky posts lately. I wanna put a stop to them, kay? Ok.

I had a dream this morning about babies. I was dressing them, or something. I don't remember a lot of what the dream was about, unfortunately. So I told the boyfriend that I'd had the strange dream, and he says, "Maybe you're pregnant. Have you missed your period?" He said it too cheerfully, though. Not as though it'd be something to worry about, or anything, but rather more like something that wouldn't be that big a deal. I said, "I'm not pregnant. In fact, I start my P tomorrow, so get it while you can, big guy!"

OH MY GOD!!! I just got the call...I GOT THE JOB! I GOT THE JOB! I GOT THE JOB, MUTHAFUCKAS!!!!! YES!!! I'm sooo drinking champagne tonight. Sure hope I'm not pregnant. Heh.

For the sake of updating...

Not much going on. It's really, really cold out this week, which I decided to experience first hand today by cleaning up my yard a little bit. I had been planning on going to lunch with a girlfriend I hadn't seen in a while, but she called at about 9 to let me know she's come down with the flu, so that was out. So I popped out of bed at the ripe time of 10 o'clock, put on a sportsbra and some sweats, and then headed out to bundle sticks, rake leaves, and marvel at the amount of snot that can suddenly start running out of one's nose when it's exposed to 15 degree temps. That's's fun, fun, fun all the time at Faith's house, yo!

I also decided to attempt to make my own spaghetti sauce's really a marinara sauce, so it can be used on more than just spaghetti, but whatev. I tried the recipe out of my Joy of Cooking book, which unfortunately includes anchovies, so the boyfriend won't touch the sauce with a ten foot noodle, as he hates those things. I love them, though, so it's the ideal recipe for me. All in all, it's cheaper for me to buy the jars of sauce, but it's nice to know how to make the stuff. The recipe calls for too much oil, in my opinion, though, so the next time I make it, I'll use less. It turned out really good, overall, though. Very tomatoey and garlicy...fabu.

I'm quite pleased with the newfound abilities I've uncovered in the kitchen during this time off I've had. I've gotten rather good at sauteeing (how is that spelled? I don't know...), and making things from scratch. My croutons are beyond yummy. Can you sell a product that you make if you use a purchased product to make them? I find that my croutons are best made from either the sourdough bagettes I buy at the Walmart grocery store, or from the loaves of bread I buy from a company called Farm to Market that's local to Kansas City. Sourdough bread is the only kind I use any more. Anyway, the croutons are good. I can make about 5 cups of them from one bagette. And each bagette costs me a buck. I could sell 2.5 cups of croutons for $2.50, I bet. I wonder how much packaging would cost. Hmmm...

The job hunt continues. I'm still waiting to hear back on one, but I'm about to go out and start sending out resumes again, just in case. I need a job, though. Losing. My. Mind. I'm sooo bored much of the time, seriously! I guess I could read more. That'd be a good idea...

Ok, so I'm off to apply for more jobs. Hope everyone is having a great week thus far! For those of you that work Monday through Friday, you've almost reached the halfway point! Good times.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Not much to say, but I feel like writing.

Ever have this problem? I don't really have anything to say, but I feel like talking. Writing. Whatever.

I just went out and visited some old sites I hadn't been to in a while. Discovered that people I never expected to do so are linking me. That's nice to see. Don't know what to do with it yet, but it's nice to see. I don't feel obligated to link people's blogs simply because they link mine, as I don't feel people that I link on my blog should feel obligated to add me to their blogroll. But it's always fun to roll past a new blog or one I haven't visited in a while, and find that I'm being linked on their blog. Thanks to those that do. I hope everyone that wanders over here because of those links enjoy what they read!

I have some updates to shit that was happening last week, but due to the comments that are popping up in a nasty way here and there, and due to my desire to keep harassing phone calls to my house to a minimum, I'm gonna keep it all under my hat for now. I've updated a couple of you, and it's because I appreciated your feedback/advice. And your friendship and support. Not that I don't appreciate EVERYONE that reads and comments on my blog, but someone out there wants me to fail. And I don't know who it is, and I'm not quite sure if I ever want to know. But until I'm successful for SURE in this case, I'm gonna keep my cards close to my chest.

USC won tonight, and if I hear one more uninformed asshat making comments about their game against Texas in a month, I will challenge them to a stat fight, and possibly to step outside. Hee's something to keep in mind: You never know (a) if the girl in front of you at the bar is a USC fan, and (b) that she knows more about sports than you do. So here's my suggestion for the evening: If you're asking to watch an early-season KU basketball game against an unknown team called Eastern Illinois (the Leathernecks, according to a man at the bar earlier, which is an interesting bit of college mascot trivia for ya), and in doing so, are asking to have the t.v. in front of ME changed from the Virginia Tech/Florida State football game to play said game, do not be surprised when I interject and stop the bartender from doing so. And then don't be surprised when I continue to make comments about how the KU game is on the fucking big screen at the other end of the room, and you can watch it on that, fuckhead. Oh, and how about if you take your baby to a different spot OTHER than sitting at the goddammed BAR, where you and your friends are proceeding to get drunk while you wait for a table in the dining room. I'm watching two fucking IMPORTANT football games, mutherfuckah, and I certainly DON'T need your baby whining in my ear, nor do I need to hear you profess your opinion about how "that guy from Texas...what's his name? Something with a 'Y'" is going to win the Heisman over "that guy from USC". There are 2 guys from USC that are up for the Heisman, asshat, and they are both amazingly better (stat-wise, at least) when compared to "something with a 'Y'" from Texas, ok? Wanna go outside now? Or shall we discuss rushing touchdowns by QB's? Shall we discuss the fact that, no, Reggie doesn't have what you think "must be 500 yards at this point" in the game, but hell, he still did quite a job against UCLA tonight, and it seems everyone is gonna vote for him anyway? Shall we discuss that I KNOW MORE ABOUT SPORTS THAN YOU??? Not in front of the 8 month old you have sitting on the bar? She is a girl after you think she'll care that you're a pussy? Ok, fine. We'll let it go then. Go watch your useless KU game in the dining room while I watch Florida State kick Virginia Tech's ass, and while I celebrate the victory ( as reluctantly as I must) of Georgia over LSU. (Someone had to beat them...I guess if it had to be Georgia, then that's fine.) Virginia Tech is 0-6 against Florida Sta...oh, you're wife is calling? Sorry...go have another Coors Light and enjoy the delightful chitter-chatter between the women about how your baby is gonna be a Guinness baby, why don't you? Oh, and try the fish with the pineapple salsa. It ROCKS!!

I'm so glad to be away from people tonight, its not even funny. I love being alone at home, waiting for the boyfriend to get here. It's a bit cold in the office, though, so I think I'm gonna go ahead and go into the living room, finish my beer and have another one, while I cuddle under the blankey and wait for the sound of the garage door opening in about a half hour...

G'night all! More update on good shit late on Monday, I'm sure. Thanks to all that have supported me and given me WONDERFUL advice lately!! Happy Sunday to everyone. Go Chiefs!

Friday, December 02, 2005

Everyone has one...come oonnn...admit it. You have one too!

So last night, after a couple of beers at the Moose and a yummy dinner of split pea soup, I found myself bothered by the dusty collection of VHS tapes and DVDs I have. They aren't set up in an appealing way in my entertainment center, and they get on my nerves looking as messy as they do sometimes. Last night, I was done with looking at that crap. So I sat down on my floor in front of the unit, took out all the tapes and DVDs, and started putting them away in a more aesthetically pleasing way.

But I noticed that one of my tapes was missing. Crappy Porn Tape wasn't there! (Thusly named because it is literally the crappiest porn ever, recorded off of an HBO movie that was played very late-night one night - too late for me to stay up and watch, really - and it's German or something, and is dubbed, and the chick-on-chick stuff isn't anything more than them fingering each other, it's so bad. So yeah...Crappy Porn Tape.) And I remember asking the boyfriend one time if he had found said crappy porn tape, because when I was still working, he had this habit of watching everything in my house on his days off, even "Emma", and I figured he'd come across it at one point or another. He confirmed that he had indeed found it, and we laughed and moved on.

So last night, when boyfriend got home, and I proudly pointed out my organizing skeeills that had manifested themselves, I thought about it. "Hey, do you know where the Crappy Porn Tape went?" He kind of got a little smile on his face, and looked a bit sheepish for a moment. I said, "Did you do something to it, because it's not down there any more." "Yeah, I took it home," he said. "Aww! But it's my Crappy Porn Tape! Don't you have your own porn at your house?" Sure enough, he does, but he wanted to watch it in the comfort of his own home, he said. And he'd just forgotten to bring it back, was all. (Which is really fine with me, because I read porn on Literotica when I feel the urge these days. So Crappy Porn Tape can stay at his house as long as he wants it to, really. Plus, my VCR kind of started eating tapes a bit ago, so it's on it's way out anyway.)

I said, "But I thought that when you masturbate, you think of me! That's what you told me a long time ago..."

"Yeah...I DO think of you! But I also watch porn."

Boys. Gotta love 'em. I never even cared about what he masturbated to, honestly. He volunteered that information one night, I think because he thought it was romantic or sexy in some way. So I'm glad he has Crappy Porn Tape to turn to for extra help when the thought of my boobies isn't doing it for him. Unfortunately for Crappy Porn Tape, he doesn't go home very often any more, so it's probly sitting all by it's lonesome wishing someone would watch it and get turned on by it. Poor little Crappy Porn Tape. Oh well...c'est la vie! I'm sure it's happier at his house than it was here at mine.

And now I'm all creeped out due to my transference of human emotion to the Crappy Porn Tape. I need to go shower now...*shudders!*

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Rejection, oh how I hate thee!!

Well, I haven't heard back from the chick I interviewed with yesterday about the job. Since she assured me that she'd be calling back today after lunch, regardless of whether I got the job or not, and it's currently almost 5 p.m. my time and I still haven't heard from her, I'm using the logical part of my brain to put 2 and 2 together. I'm sure she'll call eventually. But if I'd been her first choice, I'm thinking I would've heard from her a lot earlier than this.

So, I must continue on, and hope that what happens is meant to happen, and that soon enough, the right thing will come along, and it will be The Best Job Ever, and I'll be ok money-wise again.

I'm really quite sad about this, though. Dammit, dammit, damn, fuck.