Monday, October 31, 2005

Happy Halloween!!

Things might be quiet around here this week. Depends on what I encounter while I'm out and about running errands, dropping off demo cd's, hanging out with the boyfriend, etc...We leave for Indiana on Thursday, he works until then, I have random little tasks that need doing around the house. In fact, today's exciting activities are as follows: I am getting ready for a trip to the Walmart Grocery to pick up veggies and fish for dinner tonight (I'm in SUCH a fish mood lately...it's very weird), and then when I get back home, I'll likely call my plumber to see if he can come over and fix my toilet (it's rocking, which means the seal is broken, which is a major pain in my ass, but hell if I wanna ruin the floor I just had put in a year ago, so I need to get it taken care of now. Plus, I'm tired of the toilet moving under me when I'm on it. Bugs the hell out of me...), and then I'll get on the treadmill for a bit of a walk, and then clean the house a bit.

See, very exciting stuff. I did have a fun weekend. USC won (yay!), and while it would have been an absolute topper to everything to have watched OSU beat Texas, alas it was not meant to be, it seems. That was disappointing for sure. But hell, Georia lost, and that's something! I dressed up on Saturday (as a goddess...what else?), went to my friend's house for her housewarming party/Halloween party, finished off my evening at the Moose, where I had a few too many beers for the amount of food I'd taken in, and wound up doing the whole, "I'm just sooo drunk!" thing as the boyfriend and I played before we went to sleep. I was somewhat hungover yesterday, der, and was really glad the Chiefs weren't playing until 3 p.m. my time. I'm getting quite tired of them, really. They have the talent to kick some major ass. So what is the problem? Is it the coaching? Is it the poor execution and lack of leadership on the field? (I'm sorry, but Trent Green is just so wishy-washy out there..he really is.) I wish they'd figure it out and move on with things accordingly.

Anyway, since I'll have limited exposure to people this week, I might not have much to talk about, and Lord knows I don't want more posts like this. Bleh! So have a good Halloween, everyone! Let's hope I have more to talk about later or tomorrow...

Friday, October 28, 2005

Can I have a blister on my toe instead, or something?

Yesterday, I went over my daily allowance of time I was supposed to wear tights, it seems. By the time I pulled them off last night, I had tight-burned myself at the very top of my inner thigh, where the thigh meets the choocha. (A tight-burn, for those who don't know/haven't experienced the phenomenon, is kind of like a rug-burn. Has the same qualities, if memory serves me correctly...) So I put some Neosporin on it last night before bed (an act which spurred the boyfriend to say, "Damn, that is sooo sexy!" Don't know if he was kidding or what...), and hoped it would heal up a bit before morning. It was pretty red and swollen last night (which only added to the sexiness...), but it was looking/feeling better this morning, for the most part. I'm wearing jeans today, and not tights, but the burn on my left thigh is just KILLING me!!! I keep putting Neosporin on it (I'm probably the only childless woman in America that actually carries around a tube of Neosporin in her purse at all times...yes, I'm aware that I'm weird, but it comes in handy, honest!), but it's still so irritated, it's making me walk funny, I'm afraid.

Oh well. These people aren't ever gonna see me again. And the boyfriend thinks my ailment is "sexy" so I'm sure he could give a shit about how it makes me walk. Plus, I won't see him until tonight, at which point we are going to relax, drink at home (cheaper, safer, etc...), play Yatzee, and not move around much. So hopefully, that'll help it in the long run. Because tomorrow is a USC game. And I have to wear my lucky skirt. And I can't wear the lucky skirt without tights. Dammit.

I'm off in search of lunch. Happy day to you all. Hope it's burn-free....

360 degree turn around...

It's FRIDAY!!! I'm so happy, I could yelp. I think I did a little bit in my car before I came in this morning, in fact. I was so pleased that this was my last day with the mouthbreather that I bounced a bit in my driver's seat, and "woo-hoo'd" about it. Plus, I had a bagel waiting for me to eat it, and I was rather excited about that as well. For some reason, the boyfriend and I decided to have beer for dinner last night, and while it was a lovely idea at the time, it was not so much fun this morning. "Did I really drink all that much last night?" I asked him this morning as we tried to get moving. "Um, YEAH!" he said. "Oh...I don't remember it being all that much, but dammit, I'm so thirsty!" I had Bass instead of my usual Bud Lights. That probably was what did it. It was thoroughly enjoyable, though. And it's not like I was falling-out-of-my-chair-drunk...just somewhat tipsy. I remember everything we did/watched/ate (because I did eat some pasta when I got home...I was just too hungry), what time we went to bed, talking to the Twin before we went to bed...yeah, I remember all that good stuff. I even remember that the episode of Family Guy that was on the Cartoon Network was the one where Stewie and Brian go to Europe, but they get stuck in the middle east first, and all that good stuff. Funny fucking episode, man.

Ick...the coworker's husband is in here right now, and he stinks like smoke. Yeah, there's nothing like being out of work, having to raise a family on NO income, and still making sure you can buy those smokes that you can't afford! Actually, the man just found out he has prostate cancer...maybe I should give him a break, right? And smoking is so good for your body, too...especially when you're trying to fight a disease like cancer. AUUGGGHHHH!!! Tha fucking corn nuts are out again!! I swear, I am so out of here right now. Bye!

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Step off, George.

You don't wanna step into my world today, boy. People are driving badly, it's not Friday yet, the coworker is eating a smelly sandwich AGAIN, her shampoo smells disgusting (she comes in with wet hair in the a.m. every day, and the smell of whatever product she uses lingers because of that, it seems), she's brushing her ass-long hair while she sits at her desk (which is just soooo gross, I don't even know how to deal with it without shielding my face from it), and I can start taking bets on how long it'll be before she produces the bag of corn nuts and starts eating them. 15 minutes? 20? It'll be soon**, that I'm sure of.

If God loves me, he'll have these folks send me home today, and just let me have my whole 40 hours for the week. Yesterday, I was reaching for items to do. Today, I can imagine it'll be much of the same. And tomorrow will only be worse. Unless a project comes along to take my mind off of it all. Oh please, let a project happen!! Data entry? Please?

I finally saw the amount that they're paying my temp company to have me here yesterday when I was filing accounts payable stuff. They're getting $19.85 an hour for me, and I'm only being paid $13.50 an hour. That means my temp company is making 31% on my hourly income. And the fact that they wouldn't give me another $.50 that I was asking for (you know, so I can eat, pay bills, etc...) is bullshit. It would've taken their margin down to 29% if they'd paid me $14 an hour instead. And it's ridiculous that they wouldn't do that for me. The standard profit margin in the temp world is anywhere from 15% - 35%. We used to aim for a 30% - 40% margin at the company I worked for years ago, and we usually got it, as the tech field is a bit different from the admin/accounting field when it comes to temp/project work. But I was well aware of the industry standards then, and hell if I'm letting this info slide. The bitch I work for should know better...she knows I work in the accounting department here. She's an idiot to think I wouldn't have access to that sort of info at some point in my day. Fucker. She had plenty of room to slide on my "salary", and I'm pissed now.

Ok, so I'm in a semi-dark place today. Let's hope it wears off soon...if not, then hopefully some sort of caffeine or chocolate should do the trick. We'll have to see. In the meantime, watch out for black, two-door BMWs in your rear-view mirror, and for fuck's sake, don't brush your hair in your office!! Ew!

**UPDATE: It was only 10 MINUTES!!! UGH!!!! It smells disgusting in here, and I just wanna run away at this point. I'm pissed, pissed, PISSED, and it's making it hard to be in a decent mood at all. Her supervisor just passed me in the hallway, and asked me what was wrong, I had such an icky look on my face. I told her that the coworker is eating corn nuts, and it smells disgusting. I could only hope my voice carried enough that she heard me say it, as I was in the hallway at the time. But she was still eating them when I came back in. AAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Hey, yeah...where DID that guy go?

Remember picking up the paper every day to catch the latest Calvin & Hobbes strip as penned by creator Bill Watterson? I do. The comic world isn't the same without him, in my opinion. I found a story on CNN today that shows I'm not alone in this opinion (not that I really thought I was, but whatev...). The man seems to have disappeared from the world, and it's obvious that Calvin & Hobbes are gone forever. But I did learn that Watterson released a 3-volume collection recently. It's the complete Calvin & Hobbes. It includes every single Calvin & Hobbes cartoon created during the 10 years Watterson penned the cartoon.

Yeah, I'm gonna need to get me one of those sets, I think. Most definitely.

Can you see which finger I'm "waving"? Yeah, get a clue...

I graduated from Pepperdine University in 1996 with an English Lit degree. Now, I love my alma mater. I really do. I wish our mascot wasn't a "wave", but it makes sense since the school is in Malibu, and all. Proud of the education I got there, love what it stands for, love that it's widely known even though it's a relatively small school...it's a good place, and I'm glad I graduated from there. But lately, they've been driving me a little bit buggy.

A couple of months ago, I received an e-mail from them asking me to update my information in the student directory. They had a link to the web page, and a secure "code" that was assigned only to me...I went out, filled in the info, and moved on with my life. But they didn't, it seemed. They kept sending me e-mails asking me to update the info (even though I'd received a confirmation stating that they were happy I'd taken the time to update, and thanking me for my participation), and over the past 3 weeks, I've started getting mail as well. This week, it was an "urgent notice", and it really ticked me off.

First of all, with all the shit that's been sent to me over this simple "where you at, what do you do?" issue, I almost wish they didn't know where I'm at any more! They have my home phone number, they have my address, they know that I graduated from their freaking undergrad school, so MOVE ON, right? Especially since I finally gave them money a couple of weeks ago, after they've been begging me for it for the past 9 years. (Jeezy...has it been that long? Christ!) But no. They want me even more, now. I should've known. It's like feeding a seagull or a duck. You give one a piece of bread or a fry, and suddenly, you have a pack of the things all over you wanting every last piece of food you have, and they won't give up until they're sure they've gotten it all. FUCK, people!! Leave me alone, already!

So last night, I open yet ANOTHER e-mail from them. "Please call this number and update your information..." I'd had enough. I picked up the phone, as it was an 800-number and therefor free, and called them to tell them to kindly buggar off. I spoke to Joel. He works for some company that is compiling the info for Pepperdine, and will later be offering me the opportunity to reserve a directory for myself once they've been updated and printed. I tell Joel he doesn't need to go as far as that, because I can assure him that I can't afford to reserve a table at McDonald's right now, much less a directory telling me where people I don't know live, what they do, and what kinds of little families they all have now. I couldn't care less. But I was calling to tell them to leave me alone, as I updated this information online over a month ago, and they need to stop sending me mail and e-mails harassing me about it. He says that they are aware of the fact that I updated it online, but they needed me to call to verify it. (!!!) Ok then, Joel...let's get on with this and get it over with, k? So he checks my address, my phone number, and then asks me to verify my profession. "I don't have one right now. That's why I left that blank in the form online." Joel tells me that it says I'm an administrative assistant. "I was, but I'm not any more, and again, I left that blank in the online form for just that very reason." Ok, he says. So what industry am I in? Is it still in the insurance field? "Um, no. I never worked in insurance...I worked in the mortgage industry before. But I'm jobless right now, Joel. I don't have an industry. Again, the reason why I left that area blank online! I'm not crazy when I remember that it was optional to fill that section out, right Joel?" No, he assures me, it was optional information, but don't I want to let my old classmates know what I'm up to, and network, blah, blah, blah..."No, Joel. I don't give a rat's ass if people know what I'm doing. Especially since I'm currently working as a temp while I try to get a voice over career off the ground." So Joel asks if he can state that I'm in the entertainment industry, since I'm interested in and trying to get involved in voice over? "Boy Joel, you're good. Sure. Why don't you put that down as the industry I'm involved in."

We finished up soon after that...after he again offered to reserve my copy of the directory, which I told him again I wouldn't be able to pay for, plus I'm sure I'll get about 3,000 offers to reserve the damned thing again between now and when they publish it. He assures me that this is my only chance to reserve/buy one. I assure him right back that I DON'T HAVE THE FUCKING CASH TO BUY ONE!!!! And we say goodbye, and it was finally done.

Joel also assured me that the e-mails/mail would stop now that I'd called to verify my info that I'd already taken time to verify via the web. We shall see, Joel. Now go peck at another person's fries...you can't have any more of mine!

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

The spam is starting to piss me off a bit.

I admit, I'm with the Twin in my enjoyment of some of the spam I've received thus far on my blog. The random bits of info and the way it's worded cracks us up. Also, there hasn't been too much of it yet, and that's something I appreciate.

But the past two days, I've been getting a spam message that is longer than the Declaration of Independence talking about alternative therapies for stress and what kinds of natural ingredients can do what for your health, blah, blah, blah. And it's getting on my nerves.

Don't have much to say about it other than that. And not much is going on this morning other than I'm glad this week is just moving right along, and that Friday is right around the corner. I'm done with this temp job at that point, and I will hopefully never have to see/share and office with mouthbreather again. I swear, yesterday, she was getting hot and winded from stuffing checks into envelopes. You'd think that might signal a problem to her, and maybe she might consider, oh, I don't know, eating a bit less? Perhaps getting some basic exercise? Although every morning, I wonder if she's going to pass out just from the walk from the elevator to our office alone. So maybe exercise needs to wait a bit until she's healthy enough to be able to do anything. After watching what some of the bigger folks on "The Biggest Loser" can do, though, I have to wonder what good could come if people as big as my office-mate might push themselves a bit. And I don't mean to sound super-critical. I know I do, and I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt when I first started working with her, honestly. But after 2 months of her getting hot from sitting still, and hearing the strained breathing and the weird noises she makes, it's just hard to be sympathetic any more. How can someone get to that point, is what I wonder? How do you feel the way she must feel, and continue to allow it to happen day after day by eating crap (Cheetos, pizzas, crappy Chinese food, Cheez Its, fatty breakfast sandwiches that smell like hell - and that's just what I see when she eats in the office when I'm in here!), and not letting yourself get better by maybe, oh, I don't know...eating an apple for a snack instead of a box of Cheez Its? Or perhaps having a homemade turkey sandwich instead of a microwave pizza for lunch? I feel bad for her, for whatever reason it is that keeps her as large as she is, and for the way people look at her and how she feels people treat her. But dammit, I don't understand that kind of loss of control. I simply cannot fathom it.

I need to get to work. I hope I don't offend anyone by saying what I have about my officemate over the past few weeks. I really did try to see her point of view when we started working together, but it's gotten to the point where that just is impossible for me to do any more. Probably due in large part to her shitty personality. But that's just a guess. GOD, I can't WAIT for Friday!!!

Monday, October 24, 2005

Are we all gonna do the Electric Slide later?

I ran into the weirdest phenomenon I think I've seen in a long time on Friday night, and I wanna share it with everyone. Went out dancing with friends at a little place in KC that I haven't been to in a while. So we're hanging out, and we're pretty much the first people there, so we're also the first ones on the dance floor, which was great because the DJ played music I wanted to dance to since no one else was there, really. I thought that was awfully nice of him.

But later, as it crowded up on the dance floor, people started getting into a big circle and simply stood there watching as one person danced in the middle of it. I've seen this phenomenon before in my life. You know, at weddings when things cheese-up a bit, and everyone is just a bit tipsy, and things are getting to the point where friends want to embarass other friends, etc. Or, back in junior high, at a Friday afternoon dance. Yeah, those are some normal places where the "dance circle" phenomena makes a bit more sense. At a dance club on a Friday night where you have to pay a COVER to get in? Uh-uh. That's just some fucked up shit right there. I watched for a while, started to get a bit peeved that it was continuing to happen for more than a song or two, and finally, a song came on that I wanted to dance to, and there wasn't any fucking space to do it on the dance floor what with all the people standing around in a big goddam circle. So Alisha and I got up on a raised platform thingy they had at the edge of the floor, and watched the idiots, and danced, and had a good time. But suddenly, there was a break in idiocy, and no one was in the circle. But the circle was still there! So after a couple of seconds passed, I took my chance: I stepped off the platform, and got in the middle of the circle, and started shouting at people to fucking DANCE, already! I yelled over the music at two blondes with horrified looks on their faces, "We're not at a high school dance or a goddammed wedding! Stop watching, and fucking DANCE, already!!" I turned to another guy, and started dancing with him, and he danced with me. I danced up to the other side of the circle, and found another guy that was just standing there, confused and stunned by the activity that was occurring, and encouraged him to dance. And he did. And suddenly, the circle was gone. It broke up!! Yeah, there were some people looking at me a bit funny (um, they were breakdancing a couple of minutes earlier in the middle of the circle, so I guess it was only fair that they should look at me like I was insane for a bit as well...), but I didn't care. The circle broke up, my friends and I were able to dance in the space it created on the floor, and life was good again. It lasted for a bit too. The circle tried to return in a corner of the floor a few songs later, but it dissipated again relatively quickly.

Is this sort of thing happening in other parts of the country at dance clubs? Have I just not been in the dance club loop recently enough to know that this is a now-common occurrence and that people actually enjoy "participating" in when they go out and pay $5 - $10 to get in someplace where they're just gonna wind up watching other mo-fo's dance all night long? I feel sort of bad, if that's the case. But I really think it was just a case of people being complete fuckheads. I told the boyfriend about the conversation I overheard in the bathroom that made me want to get the hell out of the bar ASAP ("I can't believe the bride left her own bachelorette party!" "Yeah, I know! I'm soo. pissed. So, what time do you wanna get going in the morning?" "Uumm...I think we need to get moving by 8 a.m. to get stuff done and then get to the church in time, right?" Holy fuck. If I get married before I'm 60, and my bridesmaids throw me a bachelorette party the night before my fucking wedding, and then get pissed at me for going home before 2 A.M. will someone please do me a favor and kick my ass for having picked such IDIOTS as bridesmaids? And these girls were going to be in a wedding the next day. Christ.), and he in turn told me that the last time he'd gone to the bathroom, some of the gentlemen patrons at the club were kicking holes in the wall...the brand new walls that still smelled like fresh paint was on them, they had so recently been renovated...and that was the last straw for him as well. We did have a great time with our friends, but man...I can't believe how stupid and assholeish people can be sometimes. Utterly ridiculous.

It was a good time, overall, though. While I'd prefer to hang out and play some pool, or even that fun shuffleboard game thing they have at a bar or two in town, every once in a while, it's nice to break up the monotony, and go dancing. Thank GOD we got there early enough to have avoided paying a cover. Because if we had done that, I would have gone around to each of the fuckheads that were dancing in a circle, and asked them all to give me a fucking dollar. Dumbasses.

USC won. Notre Dame won. Fucking Texas won, but whatever. (What was Texas Tech DOING??? They're better than that! I KNOW they are!! AUGHHHHH!!!) And the Chiefs won on Friday night, which was a good starter for things. I layed around and did mostly nothing yesterday, which was lovely, and boyfriend came home last night and we watched movies (I can't figure out why my friends recommended the Best of Will Farrel as a rental, though...maybe the volume 1 version is better? Because the volume 2 was terrible...made me wonder why they even HAVE a volume 2, honestly. But "The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants" is a very good movie...), and it was a perfect end to the weekend, I thought. And I'm having trouble ending this post (obviously), so I'd best shove off now. Sorry for the...well, just sorry. I don't know what for. :P

Friday, October 21, 2005

The sinus police

Last week, after two days of having a headache that wouldn't go away, except for maybe an hour after I downed several Advil, I came to the realization that my sinuses were on attack. It's hard to identify it sometimes, especially when it's not accompanied by any stuffiness in the nose. When I woke up on Saturday morning, though, the headache felt like it was centered behind my left eye, so that was the big clue that it was my sinuses that needed relieving.

So I decided to include a jaunt to K-Mart in my Saturday errands, and headed over there after I'd dropped off my timecard and deposited my paycheck at the bank. I needed some other things, too...some more lotion, and some paper towels, so it wouldn't be a complete waste of time anyway. I headed straight for the pain killer aisle, since I planned on breaking into those suckers as soon as I possibly could. But I couldn't find any Advil Cold & Sinus (which happens to be my drug o' choice when it comes to my sinus pain)...they had plenty of Tylenol and Excedrin migraine meds, and they had Sudafed and Benadryl on the other side of the aisle, and they also had Tylenol Cold medicines, but I didn't want my pain killer in acetaminophen form. I wanted it to be in ibuprophen form. It just works better for me. I couldn't just buy Sudafed by itself...I needed the painkiller more than I needed the drying agent, but really I needed the two to be mixed together. (I'd tried taking a Benadryl at 5 a.m., and while it helped me sleep through the pain a bit, it certainly didn't do anything to mellow the pain out...)

I wound up buying my paper towels and lotion, and made mention to the check out girl that I found it surprising that they didn’t have any sinus medication on their shelves in the pharmacy area. She either didn’t care, or didn’t really hear me, because she didn’t acknowledge the lack of product and apologize for it or anything. No biggy…I paid for my shit, and headed out to the nearest Walgreens. They had to have the sinus meds.

I walked to the back of the store after seeing the beautiful sign announcing the location of their pain killers, and found a wall of cardboard cards where the sinus meds should have been. I found the one for the Advil Cold & Sinus product I wanted, and it said to take it to the pharmacist during regular pharmacy hours to obtain the product. Hm. Weird, I thought. But as it’s a 24-hour pharmacy, and it was the middle of the day anyway, this wasn’t a problem. I went to the counter, and the pharmacist went to the back to grab my painkillers. I said, “This is new, eh?” And he said that yeah, it was kind of a pain, but it was a new requirement now. I said, “Well, if the kids are getting high off the stuff, I guess it makes sense to try to stop them somehow, right?” You know, as though I’m 80 years old, and I’m talking about those darned youngens ruining the ease of life for the rest of us normal people. But dammit, they sort of are, I think! Because guess what happened next? The pharmacist pulls out this huge binder, flips to a page with an empty line on it, and then starts to fill it out. “Name and address, please?” I couldn’t believe it. It was a pseudoephedrine log!! It said so at the top. Absolutely amazing. And then I had to sign my name!!! Apparently, you can’t buy a pseudoephed product more than once a week, or something? One of my friends thinks it might even be limited to once per month, but I’m not sure. I don’t care, really…I only needed one dose of the stuff to make the headache go away, and it hasn’t come back all week. But what the fuck is up with that, anyway? A pseudoephedrine log?? What is this world coming to when we need to give our address and sign our names in order to make a fucking sinus headache go ‘way??

I don’t know if this is a law in every state, but it’s definitely the case in Kansas. I just don’t remember hearing much about it, is all. I mean, I remember hearing that there was a problem with kids getting high off of the stuff, as they would take 4 or 5 of the pills at a time, or whatever, but why isn’t Sudafed off the shelves, if that’s the case? Can they only get high if the painkiller is mixed in as well? I don’t know. Also, apparently, it somehow can be used as an ingredient in meth? Again, I haven’t the first clue, as I don’t manufacture meth, and haven’t ever looked into the specific process myself.

So just beware if you go out in search of sinus meds. Some of them are kept behind the pharmacy desk now. And had I known that when I went into K-Mart, I might not’ve needed to head all the way to Walgreens, dammit. Good job for handling it properly, Walgreens. I mean, K-Mart didn’t even have a sign up that said to go to the pharmacist in order to obtain the meds, or anything! Which can piss a girl off when she has to drive all about town with a probing pain behind her left eye.

Oh my…I looked it up, and the Sudafed company has kindly explained a little bit of what’s going on here. Check out the link for more info. Crazy ass shit, man.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

I don't usually like these things much, but...

Aww...Maine's wife gave birth yesterday to brand new baby Ava. (I have a friend at the Moose who had a baby a few months ago, and her name is Ava as well. Weird that it's such a popular name. My neighbor's baby is Greta. So I think we're heading into a throwback period to the Hollywood starlets of yesteryear. Imagine, in about 6 or 7 years, Ava and Greta will be in elementary school surrounded by a bunch of Audrey's, Gregory's, Humphrey's, and Ruth's. Ok, maybe not so many Ruth's, since I'm probly one of the only Ruth Hussey fans alive at this point in time, and as I don't plan on having children, and I probably wouldn't name one Ruth even if I did, it might not be one of the names to travel on in infamy. But there might be lots of Ginger's in those classes, too...)

Anyway, good job, Maine. Hope she doesn't keep you up much in the next couple of months. Sucka!!!!

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Ah Fall...how I missed you!

Suddenly, this afternoon, October full on arrived. It's cold, blustery, and rainy out right now, and it's gonna stay that way for a while. The cold will be sticking with us for at least a week, and after that, who knows? :D

Leaves are changing, falling, and creating a mess as they should do this time of year. It was getting hard to think of Halloween being right around the corner when it was regularly 80 degrees. But now? Now I can't WAIT to get dressed up!

Thank GOD for Fall. I love this time of year. Seriously love it.

The sun is up...for now.

Having a much better day today so far. *knocking on wood* Woke up feeling a bit tired, but mostly in a better mood, showered, made a yummy lunch that I'm looking forward to eating later, got the boyfriend out of bed and out the door, and then swung by my local bagel place for a quick bite and Diet Coke. Because every good day should start off properly with at least 30 oz of Diet Coke, dammit.

I don't know what happened to me yesterday. I'm finding that those sorts of days are hitting me lately...ones where I suddenly stop and find myself wondering what the FUCK is going to happen? And not just about one thing, really. My career, my bills, my family, my boyfriend, his family, my car, my furnace, my fucking lawn, money, money, and , oh yeah, money. Most of the time, I do the normal thing, and think about/worry about one of those things at a time. But every now and then, they all come tumbling forward together and assault my brain in unison. And it sucks, and it makes me cry, and it puts me in an absolutely horrid mood.

But then it goes away. Last night, while wandering around the supermarket trying to remember what we needed at home, boyfriend got frustrated with me for (a) talking about looking for cheaper items and (b) making comments about the size of the tortillas we would need for the fajitas we were making (he grabbed the burrito size, and I wanted the actual fajita size). And I realized right quick that I was being a jackass because he was the one buying the food in the first place, and he could spend whatever he fucking wanted to on salsa, and dammit, if he wanted a burrito-sized fajita for dinner, then why should I care? So I followed him down the aisle, and told him that I'd had a very hard and tiring day due to the fact that I had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, and I was sorry for being such a pain in the ass, but he needed to just understand a little. So he started saying that he knew I'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed because of him, didn't I? I didn't really respond at first, and instead I told him that I had received my Sprint bill and it was twice as much as it usually is, and I freaked out because of it, and no, it didn't help that when my boyfriend is sleeping over at my house, I really prefer for him to be in bed with me while he's doing it! And then I proceded to stomp my feet (and I believe I even hopped up and down in place at one point) in the frozen food section as I wailed (quietly, but it was still a wail, I'm sure of it) about what the fuck am I going to doooooo???? I NEED MONEY! I'm a grown woman, and I can't stand that I'm working for $13.50 an hour, and it's lasting longer than it was supposed to, and I need to get my demo out and actually pursue what I intended to pursue when I left my old fucking job in the first place, and dammit, he hadn't even hugged me today! So he stood back, looked at me and said, "Yes I have. I hugged you while I was outside finishing my cigarette in front of the store." I couldn't help it. I had to smile. He didn't even react to my mini temper tantrum, and he thought that me grabbing him around the waist and him swinging his open arm around my shoulders while he finished smoking in front of the store was what I was looking for in a hug. It's alright, though. I got a hug this morning before he went out the door to work. A bonafide, what-I-look-for-a-hug-to-be hug. It was nice.

So I'm better today. Because I told my temp company that I'm done with working at the current place I'm at because the pay is too low for it to last longer than it has, and the mouth-breather is starting to drive me bananas. I want next Friday to be my last day here, so that I can take a couple of days to get my demo out to production companies, and so that I can clean up the house a bit before leaving for Indiana, and possibly so I can take my car in for it's 25,000 mile servicing that it will be needing soon. And also because I now have pretzels and left-overs and a wonderful boyfriend that actually slept in my bed with me last night. (And who hopefully understands my little neurotic tendencies that pop up every now and then...at least he seems to, and I'm not gonna question it!)

So, better day. Good deal. Back to work.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

I'm sure it's just coincidence...

Check out the similarities of this Tomato Nation commentary and my post from September, and tell me it doesn't seem eerie to you. Especially the part about the awkward passing a coworker in a long hallway thing. Am I nuts? Seems pretty similar, eh? I know I'm not the only person in the fucking world that's experienced that sort of thing, but I did ask everyone to speak up about whether they had the same problem/something similar to my issue with the people saying hello too soon thing, and no one uttered a word, so I figured maybe I was alone in dealing with such awkwardness.

Hm. I guess not. Veddy interesting...

Boy, it got dark in here!

I'm in an extremely dark mood. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or something. But it started out because the boyfriend slept on the goddammed couch again (again, no reason for it...he just slept out there because), and he left the t.v. and lights on for most of the night while he did it...in fact the one light stayed on ALL night, but at least he turned off the t.v. at some point after I went out and bugged him at 3:30. I know it isn't costing me an arm and a leg, or anything, but right now especially, every fucking penny counts. So the fact that he's doing shit like that, on top of sitting on the computer all day long on his days off when I'm not there, is really starting to eat at me. And I don't want it to, you know? So I'm lying in bed this morning before I have to get up, trying to tell myself to just let it goooo, because he bought me sushi last night, and that was nice, and he does nice stuff like that a lot, really (I'm hoping he'll buy the supplies to make me dinner tonight, actually...), so I finally release the demon that is controlling my anger towards him (sort of, anyway...because the fucker DID sleep on the couch again), and then I get up and I shower, and he moves into the bedroom (naturally) after I start doing dishes that need to get washed, and then I see that he has eaten the rest of my pretzels. The pretzels that I bought specifically so I would stop going to the goddammed vending machine every day where I spend $.75 on a bag of fucking Cheez Its that I don't need, and can't really afford. So my pretzels are gone (thank goodness I loaded up a bag I brought to work yesterday with enough to last me a couple of days...), and I start crying. It was just too much that I'm now pissed because my boyfriend left a light on all night, and I am out of pretzels on top of everything else. (Oh, I think I failed to mention that in the midst of all this grumbling and wandering about trying to figure out whether I should be mad or not, I opened my Sprint PCS bill to find that it is TWICE the amount it usually is. Which is great. Because I needed that for sure! Twin, don't call me during the day any more. And I won't be able to call you, either. BAH!!!)

So, yeah, dark mood. That is all. I'm gonna go mire myself in work now. With a bunch of people that could give a flying shit about me or who I am or what I do in my spare time.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Lack o' drama...

My eye is twitching something awful this morning. Why? Is a storm on the way? Am I going to be coming into some money soon? Has Timmy fallen into the well again?? What does it mean when my eye twitches like this? I don't know. I can say for sure that it's obnoxious as hell, though.

Oh, and I think that gas is the single greatest affliction that any one human being can encounter in their life. Belly full o' air? BRING IT ON!!! I LOVE it when it happens. It's painful and irritating and it tells me that I'm ALIVE dammit!! My body is trying to digest what I put into it, and I'm grateful for that opportunity! ALLELUJIA, BABY!!! I HAVE GAS! WOO!!!!!!!!

I talked to my boyfriend's mom last night for the first time. She and I chatted about what I can and can't eat, and I told her I have a twin, and she got my e-mail address, and then gave me hers as well. I can't remember what else we covered...we did discuss the idea of going to Lake Michigan while boyfriend and I are up there to visit in a couple of weeks. I love that idea...I'm really excited about it, actually. I didn't realize that South Bend was so close to the lake until boyfriend and I were looking at the map last night plotting out our route. He still doesn't know which way we're going to go, but I figure it doesn't matter much. Give or take an hour, it'll take us a whole day to drive up there (and to drive home) , so regardless of the route, it's gonna be a long-ass day in the car. I'm driving the first leg, and he's driving the second. That should help. Boyfriend is very excited about the trip. He's looking forward to seeing his brothers, and he hasn't been home since 2002, so it was about time that he planned a vacation to go up there. I'm looking forward to it to. Hope his family likes me...

Oh wow. Coworker just brought something back into our office that we share that she heated up in the breakroom...it smells most foul. I think I'll be running along now. Gah.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

The latest...

I had some photos developed today. Go check out my latest photo album on Yahoo, if you dare...

Friday, October 14, 2005

Waiting for the extract...

So I'm wandering around, waiting for a report to be run so I can do the rest of my work, and hoping the rest of the day will be as mellow as this morning has been, and a thought crossed my mind: Did I really need to put my lunch into the fridge this morning? I mean, think about it...all those years in grammar school/junior high/high school when I took my lunch with me in a fucking lunch box, only to store it in my locker for the first 3 or 4 hours of the day before I took it out at about 12:15 to eat the lunch meat/leftovers/soup that had been packed in it that morning at about 6:30 or 7 a.m? How did I not get sick? Lunch meat shouldn't sit out for more than an hour at room temperature, you know? Soup...well, that gets put into a thermos, and really, it's been canned for a while anyway, so it's not like it's gonna kill you if you eat it after it's been sitting around I guess. But lunch meat? Cream cheese? (A favorite of mine when I was in 5th, 6th, and 7th grade was honey ham on a bagel with cream cheese...YUM!) Those things aren't safe to eat after they've been sitting out for 3 hours, right?

Well, I'm walking proof that it's just fine, dammit. So there FDA.

I've been spending my morning reading political commentary on blogs, and actually getting involved in the discussion occuring in comments. Not only is this making me go "WTF is wrong with me??" but it's also giving me a headache. Mikey, Tony, Joe...I'm done. It was weird of me to speak up in the first place. I'd much rather talk about the phenomenon of poo than global warming, and I read the KC Star daily online...but only if you count looking at the funnies as "reading". So I don't know what I was thinking. Hope my comments don't make me come off sounding like an asshat.

Oh, it's gonna be a caffeinated kind of day, I think.

Had an "anxiety attack" last night after I went to sleep. I call it an "anxiety attack" in quotes, because it's really just what I call it. I don't think the things that hit me like last night could clinically be called anxiety attacks. But I'm not sure. They're weird, but I've never needed to seek medical attention for them, or anything. I went to bed at about 10:50, and expected that if the boyfriend was coming over, he'd be home at about 11:20 - 11:30. I woke up at about 11:15 to the sound of my garage door opening. I smiled, and waited for him to come in and hug me. But I wound up waiting, and waiting, and then realized that there was something wrong. So I got up, and put on my robe, and went to look out my front window for his car. It wasn't there. So I looked in my garage, and saw that the garage door was closed. Hm. So I went back to bed, and I layed there for a minute, but I thought I heard a "thud" from my guest room. That was enough for me. All the lights went on, I had on my robe and slippers, and I started trying to get in touch with boyfriend to find out if he was coming over or not, so I could figure out whether I needed to (a) look forward to having a man in the house to help protect me, or (b) turn on my fucking alarm, so I could blast the eardrums of any would-be intruders. I turned on my t.v., and tried to find something upbeat but mellow to watch. Anything that had red in the background (commercials for food, mostly) made my heart start racing, so I was flipping pretty constantly. I tried to watch Fashion Police on Style, but damned if the host wasn't sitting on a red couch during the part I was watching, so I tried HBO. Finally, the boyfriend came home, and was surprised that I was awake. I asked him if he hadn't heard me say in my message that I'd had an anxiety attack, and would probly be awake when he got there? He said his phone was being really funky, so no, he hadn't gotten that message. He assured me all was fine, and he was there now, so I was gonna be ok. I told him that wasn't it, though. I mean, it helped a lot, but it's hard for me to come back down off of those things. I was wide awake at midnight when he got home, so I needed to calm down some more. I had a cup of tea, I sat and breathed deeply, and then he started parading around the house in his underwear in a funny way, so that helped, too. I felt bad...he was pretty tired. So I climbed into bed at 12:15, and we chatted a little bit. He sounded fully awake, but as soon as I stopped talking, it wasn't even a minute before his breathing became deep and even, and I knew he was totally out. I fell asleep soon after, I think, but I woke up again at about 4 in a bit of a sweat, so I know it took a while for it to blow over.

I blame all of this on the fact that some chick was attacked down the street from my house last week. Apparently, she was jogging, and some hispanic dude with salt-and-pepper hair approached her, grabbed her shoulder with one hand and then grabbed her cooch with the other. She got away, and reported the incident, but it was literally about 5 houses away from where I live. I saw the story via Tony's site the other day, and ever since then, I've been very conscious of making sure my doors are locked, the window guards are in place (so that the windows can only be opened a certain amount that would make it impossible for an intruder to get in), and that my alarm is on when I'm at home alone at night. I have no idea what time of day the attack happened, or anything, but there's a looney on the loose in my neighborhood...Lord knows what he'll do next. So I'm trying to stay safe. But I need to stop thinking about it so much, because really, I'm always this safe. I never leave my doors unlocked, and I never leave my windows open enough for someone to get in them, and I always leave my front porch light on when it's dark out. So I don't know why this is bugging me so much. Too close to home, I guess.

So I'm off to find more caffeine, and to hope that this day flies by. Because week, I am done with thee...

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Got a minute...

Ok, I'm waiting for someone to come and help me with a project I'm working on, so I've got a second to say a few things that are on my mind...

I didn't win the Powerball drawing last night again, and I'm getting mad. But I will continue to play, because as we all know, you can't win if you don't play. So hmph. I'm gonna win, so I must keep aplayin'. And this morning, something strange started happening. Random numbers started popping into my head. I tried to dismiss them, but they kept coming back, and not going away. I finally wrote them down. But there are only 4 of them. Which means I need 2 more if I'm gonna use them in the next drawing (usually I do quick-picks, but this is pretty weird, so I thought I'd work with it, just in case...). But no more numbers are coming to me. Which is pissing me off now.

Another thing that's pissing me off? My coworker handed off a project to me that she's been working on for the past couple of days. I don't mind doing it at all, really, so that's not the problem. (She needed to go to a doctor appointment with her hubby...so it's not like she just didn't wanna do it any more.) The problem is that I heard her talking to her boss about handing off the project to me on the phone earlier, and she's sitting there telling her that "it's going to take her the rest of the day, if not part of tomorrow as well to get these done..." And when she showed me what needed to be done, she's telling me to "enter 'AL', and then hit alt-p, and then tab 5 times, and enter the date and then alt shift c and tab, and then hit control p and then tab, and blah, blah, blah..." And I finally tell her that she's going too quickly, and I'm not familiar with all of the functions she's mentioning, and what the fuck? So she said I can click in the spaces instead, if I want. She just uses short-cuts. Well, guess what asshole? Those aren't fucking shortcuts! That's about 800 times more work than just reaching over for the fucking mouse every now and then to put the curser where you need it, and just type the date over again, because it's fewer goddammed key-strokes than it is to highlight it, copy it, and then paste it in another spot. I mean, JE-ESUS! So she gives me this project, and I start to do it, and realize that I'm gonna be done with it in, oh, about an hour. So what the fuck is she telling her boss it'll take me the rest of the day to do it for? I don't know. I do have a bit more to do, but can't until I get my questions answered, and if the guy that was out smoking doesn't come over to answer them when he gets back to his seat like he's supposed to, then I can't help it, really. I've already searched him out twice, and he hasn't been there. So fuck him.

Anyway, so I'm bothered. And I wanna see my boyfriend, but I don't wanna go to the restaurant tonight. But I probly will anyway, because I'm a loser. I'll have one beer. I can afford one beer. But that's it. I swear. (I'm so weak!)

(I just finished the project, btw, after I went and searched the guy out one more time...it's done. After I received it just a short 2 hours ago. Would have been done sooner had it not been for the main contact being away from his desk when I went to look for him. But whatever...he was surprised I was done already, too. Gave me a pat on the back and seemed real appreciative. Yeah, I think he might be coming to me first instead of to my coworker from now on when he needs shit like that done. Just a guess.) Oh, and I forgot to mention that the coworker has done shit like this before. Last week, I was feeling super-icky on Monday. I went home early, I was feeling so icky, and things were slow here, and even though it would mean a cut to my pay, I had to go home and just sleep. Because I was afraid I'd get more sick if I didn't. So I went to my boss, and asked her if I could go home since I was done with my work, and nothing else was popping up, and I was truly feeling like shit. (I even said "shit" in front of her, which was totally unprofessional of me, but she let it slide...probly 'cause I looked so nasty.) So I went home. And the next day, I felt TONS better, and back to normal, and all that good stuff, thank goodness. So I came to work, of course, and my coworker mentions at one point in the morning how she's tired of the fact that they run out of shit for us to do every now and then, and she told her boss the day before (who happens to be my boss's boss) that, "Yeah, Faith even went home early because she was bored." And I'm all, "Um, that's NOT why I went home, though! I was sick, Stacy. Did you tell her I was sick?" And she's all, no, because they were talking about the lack of work, etc...

*sigh*

So I made a point of going into her boss's office a little bit later, and saying, "I understand that my reasons for going home a bit early yesterday might've been miscommunicated to you. I was feeling really terrible, and I never get sick, so I thought it best that I go home and get some rest." And she told me that she had spoken to my boss and she had explained that I was sick, so all was well. So I told her, "Oh, good. Because Stacy just told me that she said I went home because I was bored, and I wanted to assure you that wasn't the case. If I'm bored, I'll come and look for things to do." She said, "I did think you had gone home because you were bored originally, but then Melissa explained that you were sick, so it's ok." I was SOOOOOO pissed!! Why would ANYONE think it's ok to say such a thing to the people who sign our fucking timecards, and decide if we're necessary to have around in the first place??? I NEED this money, you know? Dumbass.

Ok, I needed to get that off my chest. Sorry. Rant came out of nowhere, didn't it? Whew!

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Just...no.

Nothing else to say except, huh-uh. No fucking way. These people are insane. I remember seeing them on a TLC special once before, and thought to myself then that someone needed to tie them both down and remove their reproductive organs STAT. And I swear the woman has had 2 more kids since that show was aired. (Yep...look at the picture that accompanies the article. The husband is holding a baby that looks to be about 1, and that wife of his is holding their brand new addition in her hands. MAN, they are fucked up!)

I understand that it might be seen as sweet by some, and very cool of them to have such a loving and God-fearing family. But I don't. I think overpopulation is a very serious matter, and these people are contributing to the problem 4-fold, at least. The way they run their family is sickening, and I feel so bad for those kids when it comes to how they raise them thinking about sex and marriage and shit. I don't think they're allowed to be alone with anyone of the opposite sex until their something like 18! And Lord help them if any of them are gay. I mean, just forget it, man. Frustration forever for you!

Michelle Duggar, you aren't a female rat...stop popping out babies as though you haven't any choice in the matter!

Ok, a little bit too much going on, so let's just slow it down a bit, alright?

Wow. Interesting past couple of days. Not so much for me, but sort of, I guess. Let's see, my plans for today:

"Work" - of course.
Have lunch with girlfriends.
Win the Powerball.
Clean up the house - it's a pigsty, I swear.
Grab my previously-broken-but-now-fixed-shoe from the cobbler.

Yeah...full day! Especially that Powerball part. I have a feeling that might be more difficult than I give it credit for. But oh well...gotta do what we can to earn a living, right?

We had a tragedy in the family this week. Really, it was last weekend, and it was my step-mom's family, but she's all torn up, and that sucks, so I'm sad. Her nephew (heretofor my "cousin")went to a party at a friend's house on Friday night, I think it was, and a group of people that were not invited showed up. The friend asked my "cousin" to please ask the people to leave, as they weren't invited and wouldn't be allowed to stay, and so he did. The girls that were part of this group of people turned around and walked out the door. The guy that was with them started to walk out, and then turned around, and shot my "cousin" 3 times, killing him. He was 21.

My step-mom, understandably, is devastated. Her brother is a mess, and she's worried as hell about him. The only good part of all this, if there could be any good part, is that the shooter was easily identified, arrested, he confessed to the murder, and he's being prosecuted accordingly. But the family is really torn up over all this, and I feel really bad for my step-mom. They're such a sweet family! Really great people. It makes no sense that shit like this happens at all. Not at all.

So keep them in your thoughts, will ya? Just for a little bit today...Send them good mojo, and all that good stuff. They're in California, so send it in that direction. Thanks. :)

Ok, to lighten it up around here, a little story for y'all. From the way of the coworker. Yesterday, we were talking about random shit, and the subject of learning French came up, because we both studied it in college. I can't remember why we were talking about it, but she said that she wanted to learn French because it was always her dream to move to Seattle and settle there.

*blink blink*

Anybody else wondering what I might've wondered at that point? Yeah, so I said it..."Um, they don't speak French in Seattle. It's in the US." Her logic is that it's close to the Canadian border, and so as she understood it, French was a prominent language spoken in Seattle. My response was, (and keep in mind that I'm not trying to be bitchy, or anything, but just hear her reasoning, and so I can assure you that I didn't ask the following quesiton because I don't know, and I need her to teach me about geography) "I didn't think they spoke French on that side of Canada, though. Just in Quebec, which is on the east side of Canada, right?" No, she said...they speak French all over Canada mainly. Not just in Quebec.

Hm. That was certainly news to me. And I bet it might be news to any Canadian readers I might have. Correct me if I'm wrong, though. I don't think I am, which is what makes this so funny to me, but let me know if I'm making an ass of myself, and they actually do speak French in Seattle on a regular basis. You know, because it's so close to Canada and all, and they speak it all over the place up there as their main language.

Dude, the sad thing is? She has two kids. She's teaching them this shit, yo. Freaks. me. right the fuck out.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

The gods are smiling...

Boyfriend didn't realize he'd made me cry the other night. He's super-sorry about that. (I told him, DER! I'm a girl. One with PMS, no less. Of course I'm going to cry when he looks as upset/acts as upset as he did the other night. Jeez!) Bought me yummy sushi dinner last night, for which I am eternally grateful. Even though my pee smelled like unagi all night long, which was weird, since I only ate 2 pieces of that kind of sushi. Powerful stuff, unagi. I don't like it when my pee smells like it, that's for sure. Might have to stick to white tuna and striped bass from now on.

Also, the coworker just told me that she went to QuikTrip (a local gas station/convenience store chain here in the midwest) yesterday to "stock up on stuff", and they were out of corn nuts. Well, they had the big bag of the BBQ flavored ones, but she doesn't like anything that's BBQ flavored, so that was not happening. (And in this fact, I'm doubly blessed, because if there's anything worse than the smell of a normal corn nut, it's one covered in BBQ dusted nastiness.)

I'm going to turn in my application for the part time job at the fave clothing store today, so hopefully the gods will keep a-smiling on that front. I could really use the extra cash, and the cushion of an extra job whenever this one ends. In fact, I'm gonna head down there right now, and then grab some lunch. Wish me luck!

Monday, October 10, 2005

Mmmm...

Things that are flavored in cheddar are just the best inventions ever. Cheetos, Cheez Its, and I just discovered cheddar Rold Gold tiny twists in the breakroom at my "work", too. They're damned good, and hit the spot right about now. Even though I really, really, REALLY just want sushi right now. Thank goodness we're getting it tonight.

By the way, what the fuck is up with this story, huh? Severely fucked up. I can't believe that happened...is it a result of the parenting she had, do you think? It's just beyond comprehension to me.

I'm just gonna run away now, mkay?

Mouth breathers.

Um, WTF?? Why? Why do they exist? Do they not realize they have noses which work just as well for the breathing purpose?

Ok, given, you have some folks out there that have issues with sinuses, and their lives suck that way, and I'm going to hell for making fun of them. But DAMMIT!! The mouth breathing is FUCKING ANNOYING!

(Don't worry...the PMS will wear off soon. In the mean time, it's likely that things are mostly going to be "FUCKING ANNOYING" to me, and I'll be chatting about them here.)

But really, I'm going to be driven insane by having to be cooped up in a quiet office with the mouth breather. (Who, contrary to what I said last week, is starting to have a not-so-fresh-smell at this point. Dammit.)

Stand BACK...unless you wanna lose a nut.

I had an up and down weekend. Friday night was mellow...just very tired, watched a movie, went to bed, blah but lovely.

Saturday, football, plans with a friend got cancelled, watched another movie, etc...

Sunday, got my hair done, went to pick up an application for some possible part-time work at a fave clothing store on the Plaza, bought some clothes at said fave clothing store, went home and ate lunch, and then tackled my yardwork that needed doing. Called boyfriend and told him that fish sounded good for dinner, so he invited me up to the Moose for some fish special they'd been having (which really hit the spot, and I have left-overs for lunch today, so YAY!), and then we proceded to get into a fight about the fact that he cancelled his dental appointment again today. Did he just reschedule it, I asked? No. It was simply cancelled. So I express my concern over the fact that he doesn't take the condition of his teeth seriously, and I'm worried about him, and he shuts down. Just total shut down. Almost crying, even, but just no words, except that it's his business, because it's his mouth, and his phobia, and something for him to deal with. I realize it's a sore spot, and I knew going into the conversation that I was treading on very shaky ground, but I had to get it out there that I'm concerned about him, and that it worries me that he doesn't seem to take the condition seriously. He's allowing his fear to control his rationality in this case. But he got really upset, and instead of coming over to play Yatzee like we'd planned on doing, he went home, turned off his phone, and I went to bed crying my eyes out because he apparently would rather be in a relationship with a girl who only cares about herself, and could give a flying shit about him altogether. Before we left the restaurant, I told him that if he wanted to be in a relationship with a girl that only cared about herself, then he might as well get the fuck out now, because that ain't me. He didn't say anything in response, so I just walked to my car and drove away.

I left him a message later asking him to call me, and he did send a text at 1:30 that woke me up...he apologized for hurting me, and said he just needed some space, and said he loved me and asked me to call him today. I wrote him back and said that's fine, but that he's seemed to need a lot of space lately, and do we need to discuss this? Because I don't want to be a burden to anyone. He replied that I worry too much, told me to get some sleep, and that he'd see me today. I couldn't sleep, though, so I stayed up and read for a bit before I tried again.

So I'm exhausted today. And I'm pissed that my boyfriend can't hear that I'm concerned about him without shutting down. And I have PMS, and this is just SUCH bad timing in that regard.

I need sushi.

Friday, October 07, 2005

This is it...the apocolypse is nigh.

How long before this totally tanks? I KNOW I'm not the only one that's annoyed by Rachael Ray. I just know it!!! I admit to watching her "30 Minute Meals" show on Food Network. I like to get ideas for quick meals I can throw together, but I keep thinking that she's doing too much and has too many different projects, and she's going to become an "Emeril" sooner or later.

Well, it happened sooner. Anybody remember when Emeril tried to have a fucking sitcom? Yeah, he's a CHEF, for chrissakes! Why did he try to have a sitcom? And who the FUCK footed the bill for taping the episodes that actually got made? Because I have some room in my bank account specifically set aside for those fucks that desire to throw a ton of cash down the toilet. I just haven't managed to figure out how to get a hold of said fucks before they actually spend the money on shit like labor, cameras, tape, lighting, etc, etc...

So here's Rachael Ray, thinking she should have a goddammed talk show. Um, hello, Tony...uh, I mean Rachael. Yeah, can you do America a favor and stop trying to find new and "fresh" ways to annoy the shit out of us? That'd be great, thanks. Just stick to coming up with new 30 minute meal ideas, and go ahead and make some more oddly shaped cookware to sell...that's just fine. But stop already with the interviewing of celebrities, and the creating your own talk show, and the travel to another town to eat more food for under $40 per day (hi, when I travel, I need to eat for less than $15 a day per person, jackass...not all of us in the world have people throwing money at us to do worthless and stupid projects like HAVING A FUCKING TALK SHOW WHEN WE HAVE THE MOST ANNOYING VOICE ON THE PLANET!!!), and the creation of a 30 minute meal dedicated to foods your dead dog loved to eat, because, come on. At some point, it just becomes too much. Dayum!

Beware the POWER of Faith! (Heh.)

So I've got this coworker that's in the same little office as me, right? The one that eats corn nuts for breakfast in her delightful little way? (She doesn't have them this morning, by the way. Thank GOD! Also, I found that she doesn't like the scent of the hand lotion I use. So that's my revenge, muthafuckas...awww yeah!) Anyway, she's getting to the point in this project where little things are annoying her. And they're annoying her to a degree that is really not necessary. Mind you, she's got some personal shit happening, too, so that probly doesn't help her mood any, but whatev.

We have a group of folks that works in a small area outside our office that can be rather boisterous and chatty. They tend to talk all morning, and they start it up again towards the end of the day, and it can be a bit much to have to listen to. But you know what? I don't really care. Because I'm not really doing anything all day except data entry, and moving info from one system to another, and that sort of bullshit. It's not like I'm trying to crack the DaVinci code in here. I'm here from 8 to 5, I take some little breaks here and there throughout the day, and I go home at the end of the day feeling that I've earned the money I've made. My coworker is in the same boat when it comes to what we're doing here. She's just running some queries, moving the info, and that's that. It's not like it's on her to analyze the shit she's pulled up (although I think part of the problem is that she tries to do that, and it's not really her job, so she should just stop it...), so I'm not sure what she's taking so seriously, but she is.

So yesterday, she's so bothered by the boisterous group that she closes the door to our office. This bothers me for a couple of reasons: (1) it's not a large room, and being closed into it just feels...weird for some reason. (2) I have to continuously go down the hall in the morning to grab stuff I'm printing off, as the printer is in my boss's office 3 doors down. (3) My coworker weighs about 350 pounds. She tends to grunt now and again, for reasons unknown to me, and her breathing is loud and labored. Sometimes, we listen to music...the radio is on her desk, so it's up to her to turn it off and on as the whim strikes her. I could ask her to turn it on, I guess, but I really don't care. Anyway, the music has the ability to drown out the noises she makes, which is helpful. But when she closed the door yesterday, she didn't turn the radio on.

And THEN she started to talk about how annoying the boisterous people are. And she talked about them, and talked about them, and I finally stopped saying anything at all in return, which made her quit eventually. So not only was I closed into the room, and then having to go in and out a closed door much of the morning, but she wasn't gonna stop talking about how annoying they were, anyway!! So what was the fucking point of closing the door, bitch?? AUGH!

She kept getting frustrated with her work throughout the day, too. After lunch, she made some comment about how it was all making her blood pressure rise. And I finally said, "I don't get what the big deal is. It's just noise. I try not to let it get to me, you know?" And she said something about how distracting it was, and I said I just block it out and try not to notice it, and it seems to work fine. And she shut up. And the funny thing? She stopped cussing at her computer, and she seemed to mellow out a bit. Today, so far, she hasn't said anything about the boisterous people...and they're being pretty rowdy, too. (It's one of their boss's birthdays, so they're having fun...) She has made a comment about how she's bothered that her bosses keep making changes to "her" queries without saying anything to her, but the thing is, they do it every day. And, um, it's not really "her" query, you know? It's kind of important for the people who work here permanently to be able to do their job, and she's helping them with that function...she's not in charge of them. THEY'RE in charge of HER. Duh.

It's just getting to the point where she's turning sort of weird. Happens to temp people every now and then, I've noticed. Especially ones that are a bit out of the ordinary. I used to work with an older woman in another office long ago who was bothered by the fact that I was always being asked to go into the back part of the office to help with making copies, sending mail, and filing. But what she didn't understand was that she was obnoxious and rude...no one really liked her there. She was weird. And she couldn't understand why no one wanted to hire her into a perm position, either. Um, maybe because you smell like a walking cigarette? Or because you have a negative personality that can be read as soon as you walk through the door? My current coworker is getting to that point too. And it must be frustrating to be in her position, and I might get a bit eccentric myself if I were in her shoes. Because she goes out on interviews for jobs (which she claims she is most qualified for, but I'd never know whether that's true or not...), and she says that if the hiring manager is a man, she's sure to be passed up for the position. This last interview she had was with a woman, but "she was hispanic", and they don't tend to like large women either, she says. (Which is news to me, but I digress...) So the constant rejection must get to her, I'd think.

She also was talking to her daughter yesterday, and telling her about what the doctor had said about the illness she has (she's had to stay home from school for the last couple of days because her stomach hurts too bad, as she's super-constipated...yeah, this is the sort of thing I'm privvy to, being stuck in the same small office with her, and all...), and she told her little girl that the doctor said she was "rotten inside". "Rotten from her throat to her belly..." was what she told her specifically. And I was just sitting here thinking, "Holy shit! WHY would you say that to your kid??" And then she told her that we had been given lunch by the company - which was true - but she told her that "they fed us today"...as if we're some sort of animals or something. "Yeah, they fed us our lunch today...it was good!" And I just had to get up and leave the office. I mean, don't tell your kid, who happens to be 9 years old, by the way, that we "got fed". That's just fucked up right there. Not as much as telling her that someone said she was "rotten inside", but hearing the two things together just made me wanna scream at her.

So this thing had better end soon. I want a new project. Or I want this coworker to get so fed up that she leaves. That'd be good, too.

Right now, I have to do some actual work. :) Happy Friday, everyone! Hope your day provides positive coworker interaction...

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Another corn nut kind of day, it seems...

Hey, can someone please tell me what the Powerball numbers were from last night's drawing? I know I didn't win anything big, but I can't see any of the websites that post the numbers here at my "job" (they block all websites that even make mention of a "lottery" or the Powerball), and I wanna know if I at least got the Powerball pick! Please help me. God bless.

Oh, and since this is apparently an interesting topic of discussion for my family, and maybe more folks that I'm unaware of, let me make this clear, because maybe I haven't prior to now, although I thought I had once or twice: I have had it in the ass before. All that needs to be known by anyone outside of me and my current love is that I have a love/hate relationship with the whole activity...feels good, but grosses me out, and all that sort of thing. There you go. Hope that helps settle whatever discussion might occur on the topic in the future. You freaks...

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

More soundbites from Faith's private life...

I'm in a bit of a mood, so you must bear with me whilst I focus on the more positive aspects of my life at this very moment in time...

ME: "So you'd fall madly in love with me if I let you do me in the ass?"
BOYFRIEND: "I'm already madly in love with you. But I'd fall madly, madly, madly, MADLY in love with you if you let me do you in the ass..."

Moral of the soundbite: Sometimes, it's a good thing to hold out on one or two things when it comes to relationships in their early-on stages. If only to help along that whole "madly, madly, madly, MADLY" bit of stuff...

(And how sweet is that, anyway? He seriously said he's "madly in love" with me. Good golly...to be loved by a boy that is there for you at the end of a bad day, and can read the fact that even though you needed a hug - and a beer or two - you still wanna be alone for the rest of the night. I'm blessed and a half. "Good night, Little Bear!")

Tid bits o' fun...

Having fun with the boyfriend still...which is a good sign, since we've rounded the ever-curious 3 month mark, and are well on our way to being together for 4 months as of mid-October. Lately, conversations have gone from totally goofy to somewhat serious to confusing as hell and back to normal again.

Last Friday, we went bowling with some friends, and he got a little nutty. He started dancing as he would bowl. But not in a normal way...no, more geek-like than anything else. He would hike his pants up REALLY high, and then bend over and straighten back up again (which, incidentally, would leave his pants very far in his crack), and then he would dance up to the start of the lane, and throw his ball. He's ridiculous like that sometimes, and I love it, for some reason. It made us all laugh very hard, including the strangers next to us in the other lane.

Last night, we were watching the episode of Sex & the City where Charlotte marries Trey, and at some point right before the ceremony, the price of her dress is brought up (apparently it was supposed to have cost $14,000), and boyfriend was all, "$14,000 for a DRESS?! What the hell is that about?" So I tell him that I've warned the old man that he needs to set aside at least $15,000 for the dress alone when I get married. And this confuses the boyfriend even more, and so I have to explain that my sisters all got married a long time ago, and here I am, the only one that remains unmarried in the fam, and I'm already 31 for chrissakes! So when I finally do get married, you'd better believe it's going to be a HUGE fucking deal, dammit. And the dress needs to reflect that. Plus, I want a designer gown, preferable from someone like Vera Wang, and those don't come cheap. I said all this as I sauntered to the bathroom, and then I closed the door. I had a good laugh while I was in there, because I knew that boyfriend was freaking out about how materialistic and ridiculous I was being.

When I came out of the bathroom, boyfriend was on the deck having a cigarette, so I stood in the doorway and chatted with him a bit. I told him that he obviously didn't understand the importance of the wedding dress to some women, and materials and designer names, etc...can really add up! And he just says that it seems insane to pay that much for a dress. And I finally said, "Dude, do you really think I'd spend that much on a dress? That's a CAR! It's the downpayment on a house! I'd never spend that much on a dress, really." He was pretty relieved hearing that. He came over and gave me a kiss, and said that he could see someone paying maybe $2,000 on a dress, but NOT $15,000. I said that I think I'd limit myself to a max of $3,000, just to be safe. But really, I don't know when or where I'm getting married, and it depends on what hits me at the moment that I'm in the situation of having to look for a dress. There's no telling what I'll wind up with, really. I told my friend today that I could very well be wearing my Sunday best to go marry some dude at the senior citizen's center when I'm 80 years old. Who the fuck knows?

Anyway, so talking about my ideas of locations of weddings and my dress costs and all that junk doesn't even seem to phase the boyfriend. Which is nice. I'm glad that general, random conversation topics like that don't seem pointed and specific to him when they're brought up. Because they aren't. One never knows what's going to happen, but it HAS only been 3 months. I'm not a jump-to-conclusions type o' girl myself, so I like to think he isn't that type of guy, either.

So when we go to bed, I bring up a question that's been on my mind lately. It's not that I mind at. all., but he's been at my house a majority of the time for, oh say, the last 2 months. Again, it's fine with me...I've gotten used to it, and we work well together schedule-wise, so it's gotten a routine to it, for the most part. But I asked him if he was moving in, or something? And he said, no, he isn't moving in...it hasn't been long enough, and that's just not even something he's thought about at all. I said that's fine, but he's over at my place a lot, and I just thought I'd ask because I wasn't sure how that subject gets brought up, or when it's supposed to, because I've never been in a situation like this before, and quick, grab my hand before my head goes under the quicksand and I disappear forever in my confusion and uncertainty! He said he understood...he told me that if I didn't want him around as much, all I had to do was say so. But I told him that wasn't what I meant at all, and I'd gotten quite used to it the way it was. I just wanted to make sure that I understood how that all happens when it does happen, is all. He said, "Yeah, I guess I basically live here anyway...it's close to work!" And I said, "I knew it! It's just a convenient crash-pad for you! A crash-pad with cable, pussy, and internet access, dammit!" And that's when he attacked me, and you don't really need (or want) to hear the rest, I'm sure.

But my point is that he's just perfect for me. Which is weird, because I always saw myself with more of a serious, corporate-type dude. Someone that was witty, but not necessarily goofy in any way. But I was waaaaayyyy off on that. Or at least, it seems so at this point. After all, it has only been 3 months...

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

This one time, at fat camp...

I read this article today, and it took me back in time. Back to a time when I was a fat little girl who wanted people to like her. Back to a time when I had skinny siblings that were always very kind to me, but who I wasn't very nice to much of the time, because being nice to strangers took every bit of energy I had all day long, so why the HELL should I have to be nice to people that were programmed to love me no matter what? Back to a time when I constantly worried about whether I would ever be pretty, or thin, or have a boyfriend.

When I was 12, I think it was, my mother came to me with an option for my summer vacation. The family would be going to Hawaii, as usual (actually, we had skipped a year or two, due to our move to the mountain community of Lake Arrowhead when the Twin and I were 10, but I digress...), and I could either join them in Oahu, or I could go to a weight loss camp called "Camp La Jolla". We discussed both options in a very mature and mellow way. I knew I was fat, and I knew I wanted to be thin as much as my mother wanted me to be a happy-go-lucky kid that didn't have to try so hard to get people to see herself for who she really was. I didn't cry and bellow about the fact that my mother thought I was FAT, and wanted to send me elsewhere to get help for my "problem"...rather, I knew I had the problem, didn't know how to get rid of it, and wanted desperately to be thin and pretty like the other girls (including the Twin) at my school.

So I decided to go to Camp La Jolla. Or, the Fat Farm, as all of the attendees lovingly refered to it. Contrary to the name of the camp, the one I went to was actually in Santa Barbara. (They had several locations, as I recall...one of them being in La Jolla, and another one in Arizona, I think? I can't remember exactly...) My parents drove me up the night before I had to check in, we had a yummy dinner at a restaurant on the coast, and then they left me to become the skinny girl I desired to be, leaving a few days later on their own trip to Hawaii with the rest of the family. I spent the next 6 weeks running a mile every morning before breakfast, joining activities such as mini-trampoline aerobics, sand volleyball (which SUCKED!), bike riding, hiking, and the like, watching movies once a week in the common hall, living with 5 girls I'd never seen before, and who I bonded with for the duration of the time we were spending together (some were only there for 4 weeks, some would be there for 8 weeks...), and generally learning that being skinny meant that eating teeny, tiny meals for the rest of my life would have to be the norm. (The food was really very good...and they gave us a cookbook when we went home, so we could continue to eat some of the meals we'd become so familiar with during our transition in our fat lives...)

I had always been a pretty active kid, really. The Twin and I were involved in gymnastics and swimming before we moved to the mountains when we were 10. We couldn't swim any more up there (not for a team, anyway...), but we replaced our normal pool antics with roaming the forest that surrounded our home. We also tried to get into gymnastics as well, but the school in the mountains was WAAAAYYY smaller than the one we had previously been a part of, and then the Twin hurt her back doing some maneuver or another, and when she stopped going, I stopped going. No biggy...we still wandered the forest regularly, and swam in the lake when it was seasonally allowable. But I started eating when we moved up there. I ate, and I ate, and I ate. And the CRAP I ate! Jeezy. I would have a Stouffer's pepperoni pizza (one of those french bread toaster types...) for a SNACK after school. Sometimes, that wouldn't be enough, and I'd have 2. My mom also discovered these little cheese puff things that were basically bits of phylo that we could heat in the toaster oven as well. I ate those like they were going out of style. I think that I had somehow convinced myself that if you could heat it in the toaster oven, then it wasn't really a meal. Or something. Actually, I'm pretty sure that it wasn't anything like that...I just didn't think about shit like calories or fat content or whether I was eating too much food throughout the day. It wasn't on my mind.

So I got fat. I think I weighed about 140 when I went to the Fat Farm. I was about 5' tall. So I was a big girl. I lost 20 pounds while I was at the Fat Farm, and went down to a size 8. I felt skinny, finally. I worked on continuing my new eating habits, and started going to Jazzercize with my mom 3 times a week. I learned more about healthy living in those 6 weeks than I ever could have imagined would be helpful to a 12 or 13 year old. But it really has stuck with me. I've also gained weight back over the years, and have continued on my fat/skinny/fat/skinny routine ever since. I've lost weight as an adult (starting at age 15) with Jenny Craig, and have been relatively successful each time I've tackled it. The last time was not successful...they've made the plan too loose for me (I need LOTS of structure when it comes to that sort of thing...), and it was too expensive for me to be able to stick with it. But that's when I turned to the 6-Week Body Makeover and realized that I can get really healthy just by cutting back on my sodium intake, and hopping on the treadmill for a half hour walk at least 3 times a week. I also realized at that point that certain types of protein are no longer compatible with my body...I stick to turkey, chicken, and fish now.

Anyway, all I'm saying is that I was a Fat Farm girl. It was a positive experience in my life for me. And even though I've continued to struggle with my weight for most of my life, I still remember what I learned all those years ago when I passed up a trip to Hawaii with the fam to go try to hoof it out with a bunch of other fat chicks for a few weeks by the beach. And I'm not perfect now...not by a long shot. But I have a healthy way of objectively viewing myself, and seeing that it's MY choices that make me the way I am. Giving myself that control to begin with is a big part of being happy with myself, even though I'm at a size 16, weighing 180 pounds these days. I know that this is the tippy-top of where I will be weight-wise in my life. I can't imagine being bigger than this, and won't allow it. And I'm grateful that I was given that opportunity to learn about my health, and my control over it, way back when I was a pre-teen. Thank you mom. Thank you Camp La Jolla. Thank you all you grown-ups that know that sometimes, a kid needs to be treated like an adult in just the smallest way...so that they can learn to be themselves for the rest of their lives.

Ugh.

Why do people eat corn nuts? WHHHYYYYYYY?????? God. It's just so nasty smelling in my office right now due to my coworker's love for the corn nuts (she eats them for breakfast, yo...swear. to. god.), and I'm trying to feel better and get into work and everything, and it's just not easy when the whole fucking office smells like goddammed CORN NUTS!!!

Ok, gotta work. I was feeling a bit better (I got hit with some sort of flu yesterday...made my chest feel like it was on fire, and all I wanted to do was sleep...and eat sushi, apparently.) when I first got here, but now with the corn nut action, I need to work on focusing a bit more. GAH!!

Monday, October 03, 2005

Ok...feeling a bit better now.

Thank goodness the place I work has some Gaviscon in the cupboard in the breakroom. Very helpful. I'm feeling a bit better in the heartburn area at this point. Unfortunately, it's becoming more and more clear as the morning wears on that I do have a cold. It's a very teeny one at this point (nose is running, a bit of a cough...), so I'm hoping that by laying low over the next couple of days, I can keep it teeny, and make it go away. It's putting me in a shitty mood, it seems. I don't wanna be at work, and I don't wanna talk to my coworker...just not in the mood for any of that crap. And the air vent that's directly over me pushing cold air on the back of my neck? Yeah, that shit needs to stop.

So the news of the weekend is that Fucktard got back together with his girlfriend, who had broken up with him a week before, sending him into a drunken spiral that was rather depressing to see/be exposed to. I walked in the Moose on Saturday, and they were sitting at the bar together. She's an ok chick...she has had her moments, and I think that downing an entire bottle of wine in the course of an hour and a half might mean she has a bit of a problem, but for the most part, I don't have any beef with her.

Anyway, so they're there together, and there's a seat open next to her so I sit down. We chat a bit about what's going on, and Fucktard and I discuss the USC/ASU game (he went to ASU, so I was trying to get him to go watch the game with me for a bit, even though I knew he would never go to the bar I have to go to, etc, etc...), and then I ask them if they'll be in to watch the Chief game on Sunday, and apparently they're going to go ahead and take some trip they had planned a while ago down south in Missouri on Sunday, now that they're back together, so they won't be in to watch it. We discussed how they planned on arriving at their hotel before the game starts, so they should be fine to watch it and all, and I said, "Are you sure there's a t.v. in the cabin?" And Fucktard's girlfriend says, "Well, for $300 a night, there'd BETTER be one in there!" And I'm all, "Ha ha! Yeah...I guess so, huh?" But I'm feeling a bit uncomfy because, come on...why mention how much it costs? Who the hell cares? But I let it go, and they chat a bit while I watch the Notre Dame game, and I hear Fucktard telling her that he wants her to get stinking drunk, and she's wondering why (and I'm thinking, "What's new?"), and he says she needs "medication". So I'm rolling my eyes, because really, how fucked up is all that? I was talking to a mutual friend about it yesterday, and she thought that maybe he was encouraging her to be drunk since he's drunk pretty much all the time, too. I don't know. It was sickening, was all. Anyway, so she manages to mention the price of the room at least two more times before they leave, and it was just so weird, I thought. I kept thinking that if she couldn't afford the damn room, then why did she offer to take Fucktard on the trip in the first place? Asshole...

They finally left a bit after that, and I was glad to have them replaced by a couple of very nice, interesting Notre Dame fans. We had a great conversation about football, and the one guy's brother that lives in LA, and that sort of thing. No mention of money at. all. Which is how I like it when I'm drinking a beer and munching on some hummus. I can't wait till Fucktard and the girlfriend come back, though, so I can hear all about how their $300 per night room in the middle of the fucking Missouri wilderness was. Bleh...

Heartburn SUCKS...

I have heartburn right now. Which means that I can't eat pizza any more unless I want to deal with the pain that follows. (I made a pizza last night, had heartburn but dismissed it as being caused by something else, and then had leftover pizza for breakfast - because that's the point of having pizza in the first place - and now I have heartburn again, so I KNOW it was the pizza that caused it...dammit.) So that's one more thing I can't fucking eat any more. I'm already on a strict turkey, chicken, or fish diet, and now I can't even eat a pizza that's topped with turkey-fucking-pepperoni and olives, and doesn't have any cheese? Oh god...what if it was the sauce that did it? Just kill me now, if that's the case. Going through life without tomato sauce? It's just not even an option.

Something smells funny in my office right now. I'm pretty sure it isn't me. It's really not a good smell, though, and I'd like it to go 'way.

I need to get to work, and am really distracted by this heartburn right now, so I'll post more later, I'm sure...