Saturday, April 29, 2006

Morrissey and The Chairs

So, p. mcb. asked the question in the post that had my hair pics in it about what the deal was with the Morrissey? So I thought I'd tell y'all what the deal is, even though p.mcb. is the only one that asked.

Ok, so in the Suedehead painting that the Twin did back when we were in high school (she was all artsy, and I was not...I tried painting once, and it was just, well...laughable, is the best way to put it, I guess), the lyrics are in white, and then she has what would be something like subconscious terms that I guess were what she thought of when she listened to Morrissey and Suedehead and that sort of thing (correct me if I'm wrong there, Twin) in black, and I loved the colors and the song and all of it, so I took one of the two copies she had created with me wherever I went starting back in my freshman year in college. (The one copy she had done on a HUGE canvas, and only the smaller one would fit in my car when I moved, so I took that one by default, even though I would've prefered the larger one, really...) The painting has always looked appropriate, whether it was on a bedroom wall or a living room wall, or as it is now in my guest bedroom/office/boyfriend's closet room. (I have red curtains on the windows in this room, so they match perfectly with the red in the "Suedehead" and the little red stick-men in the other painting...) I love it, and it will always have a special hanging place in any home I live in.

Now, the painting below is a bit different. Again, loving the colors, and this painting has travelled with me since college as well. It looks great with the Suedehead painting, I think, and it represents something to me that hit me in my apartment that I lived in in Mission Viejo back in 1998. I had given up all of my couches in my move from Carlsbad to Mission Viejo, as they took up too much space, and I was quite tired of lugging them around with me every time I moved. So I was down to 2 chairs and an ottoman in my living room. And then I bought a third chair from Anthropologie at one point, as I was rich or something, and felt it was a perfectly justifyable thing to spend $800 on a fucking chair. (Which, to this day, is my fave chair of all was worth every penny, seriously.) So suddenly, I was travelling around all the time, and I was always moving these three chairs that I had along with me, and ironically, one of them is a full-on plush armchair, the second one was a wooden-framed open arm chair from Ikea (which I still have, and is also in the guest bedroom/office in my house), and the third one was this weird foam chair that my older sister had given me when I moved into my first place in KC back in 1996. It didn't have arms on it at al, and it had a matching ottoman to go with it that I still have to this day. (The chair itself was left behind for the cat of the house when I moved from Boston back to KC in 2000. It had fallen in love with the chair, I was tired of the nasty thing, so I left it there and made the cat very happy.)

So I looked at the painting one day, and realized that the Twin had been using her third eye when she painted it. Somehow, she foretold the fact that eventually, I would be moving those three chairs around the country with me, which I thought was a bit creepy and very neato.

So that's the story of my two paintings I have in my house. The only other art I have are huge Audrey Hepburn prints and some other small random prints that I bought at Ikeas and little weird shops in college towns and that sort of thing. The paintings are a piece of the Twin that are always with me, so I love them lots, and am really glad that they've stood up so well to the abuse of my 10 moves in the past 10 years.

And now I must get going, because the puppy is driving me mad, and I think she needs to go outside for a bit. Buh-bye. (Oh, and congratulations Arizona and New Orleans. You got a couple of real gems there...wish I could say the same for Tennessee. Vince Young needs to make up his mind about whether he wants to be a QB or a running back when he grows up, dammit. And I can't believe Norm Chow did that. Seriously. WTF??)

Friday, April 28, 2006

I love the BBC...

Oh! I wish I had a camera! I swear, hair days like this do NOT happen often. It's perfect, just about. And I didn't even need to pull out the flattening iron! Dammit, I look good!!!

But it's rainy and cold and kind of icky out today (thanks, Mother Nature, for giving us one single day of nice weather this week. It was great. You should fuck us over like this more often, seriously...), so the good hair is bound to shrivel and become a mess of frizz eventually. Which is why I wish I had a camera, duh. Catch the goodness on digital memory, and it lasts forevah...

Things are harmonious and sweet right now, so not much to chat about. I had an awesome shit last night, but this morning, not so much. I'm very interested in receiving the results of the blood tests that Humana ran on me, and am hoping they'll arrive today in the mail. Again, though, I can't imagine that anything is seriously wrong with me. I simply do not understand an insurance company refusing basically free money from a perfectly healthy me, it seems as though they are making a poor business decision, but I guess I can kind of see their point of view. I mean, I'm the only one that can feel, well, myself, I guess. They can't tell that I feel strong and fine and really good much of the time. What's crazy is that, if I worked for a company that had group health insurance, I wouldn't have to deal with any of this crap...I'd be insured, no questions asked. On the other side of the office that I work in, there are around 4 rather old women, and several really large ones...I'm sure THEY have no problem with insurance, but that's because that side of the house offers the group insurance due to the type of company they are. So why is it so different for people wanting individual health insurance, huh? I. Don't. Get. It. I'm planning on calling my insurance guy next week, after I have the results of the blood tests Humana ran in my hot little hands. Perhaps he can give me a plan that'll work, or he might know of a company that can help me, at least. Right now, he insures my house and my car, and I know they offer life insurance...I'm just not sure if they go as far as working on individual health insurance plans. So we'll see. It's frustrating, is all.

And that's about as exciting as it gets. I keep getting a reminder from my calendar that I need to take care of, so I'd best scoot along before I put everyone to sleep...Happy Friday!!!

Thursday, April 27, 2006

New hair shots...

So here's the new hair color. Sorry about the dent...I've had it in ponytails for much of the evening...and now that I look at it, you can't really see the highlights all that well, but whatever. It's darker, and the highlights look cool in person, fo sho. And just look how shiny! Ooohhh...shiny...

Just do it.

This pisses me off so much, it makes me want to scream. (And I don’t even pay for my own gas, folks. My dad does. Because he is awesome. And, no, you can’t have him.)

Are there people out there that still even want to see this? I don’t care to add a single dime to that man’s pocket ever again, due to his general creepiness and all-around asshatery. Now I know why my mom came to the decision that she never wanted to watch anything that had Jane Fonda in it after the 60’s. (For the record, she disagreed with her politics. I used to think that was so silly…to not want to watch something just because of the way the main star – or semi-main, in certain cases – believed. But now that Tom Cruise is on the loose, I completely understand. And I’m sorry I ever felt differently, mama.)

Look at the hair. She might actually deserve a spanking for that alone. (Dammit, why hasn’t anyone ever wanted to spank ME at work??? Hell if I don’t deserve it, and I could really use a million bucks right now, seriously.)

Can you tell that I’m procrastinating at work? It’s not my fault, really. I WANT to do the work, but it involves walking to the other end of the hallway (it’s a city-block long, people), and I have a blister on my heel that hurts like hell in the shoes I’m wearing. I bought new walking shoes over the weekend at the Nike store out at the Legends West, and I wore them for the first time when I was on the treadmill on Tuesday night. My right heel was rubbed raw, and I had to stop after only a half hour (and tonight, I’ll just be wearing my old ones, I think…), and now it’s a mess to look at, and my strappy sandals hurt to wear. So walking all the way down the hall to the room where the machine is at that I need to use just doesn’t sound like fun at all. Oh well. I guess I’d better suck it up. At least once I get there, I can just stand still for a bit. Dammed blister on my heel…
The sun is up, it’s gonna be a bit warmer today, the relationships in the home are more harmonious as of last night…so all is looking up. I appreciate the support given yesterday. Your comments made me laugh, and that’s just what I needed. Thank you!

Izzy had pissed the boyfriend off on Tuesday, and so yesterday morning started off rough since I had essentially been up since about 3 a.m. worried about weird noises Izzy was making (sounded like she was coughing up a hairball, but the hairball never materialized – weird), and trying to deal with the fact that I was the only one that was getting up to check on her. Whatev. We all need a break now and then. But then the boyfriend said all of about 3 words to me yesterday on his way out of the house, and I was bothered by that. He did kiss me goodbye, though, so when I texted him later to see what was up, and he told me he was irritated with the dog (she had chosen to go to the bathroom twice inside the house the day before), I felt relieved and texted back, "Ok. We can be glad we don’t have carpet, right?" And hoped he would see how ridiculous it might be to hold a grudge against a 3 month old puppy. He seemed better last night, and held her and played with her, so we’re all back on track. And she promptly poo’d right inside the patio door soon after he got home, so yeah…back on track indeed. (I really don’t care. It’s linoleum. It can be Windexed and forgotten, IMO.)

Tuesday night was a rough one for me, since I was deep in the throes of PMS, and then I decided to call Humana Tuesday afternoon to check and see what was up with my application. Yeah, they told me they denied it, and they had just sent the info out to me (via snail-mail) that day, so I should be receiving the details by Friday or later. Great. The one chick I spoke to told me that my protein and creatinine levels were "off", and that I needed to get them checked again by my doctor (um, I don’t…have a "doctor". I have a gynocologist, so I guess I’ll ask them to order the blood panels when I go in June, or something), and there will be instructions about reapplying for medical coverage with the package that’s being sent to me. She started talking about my need to "lose 6 pounds, and then prove that I am able to keep it off for 12 months", but I just cut her off with a wail about their fucking OBSESSION with those STUPID 6 goddammed pounds! They need therapy, already, for chrissakes. JEEZY! Get over my goddammed "obesity" ok? I did! I had a donut this morning, and everything!!!

Anyway, apparently, there’s something wrong with me that I’m unaware of. Fabulous. So I start looking up protein and creatine (which is what the chick said it was, but looking it up on WebMD and the like turned up things like, "Did you mean creatinine?" So I changed my searches after that…), and then I called the Twin for help, and basically, if the levels are too low, there’s something wrong with my liver. If the levels are too high, then I might have diabetes or I might have kidney issues.

So I call Humana back and ask them which one is it. Well, apparently, they can tell me there’s something wrong with them and I need to get them checked, but they can’t tell me what's wrong with them, exactly. Great. So I need to wait 3 – 5 days (wishful thinking with a package coming via USPS, of course…) to see if I have some disease I need to have looked into? Yes, they say. Well, it’s a good thing I feel just fine, right?

DAMMIT!!! I was very frustrated, sad, kind of scared, and feeling like a brand new Fatty McFatass all over again thanks to them. And now I get to pay for a whole new blood panel and visit a specialist in June based on whatever it is that they find in my blood, and hopefully it’s nothing, but rather just Humana being big dicky pains in my ass. Because seriously…feeling fine. I’ve had a headache off and on all week, but you try bleeding out of your crotch for 5 days straight and tell me it doesn’t have an adverse affect on your body at some point prior, during, or after it’s doing so, mkay? Yeah.

That’s all the excitement in my life, though. It is Administrative Professional’s week, and yesterday was our "day", so I have received a couple of gifts from those who appreciate me, and some stupid e-mails from those who don’t get me (no, I don’t know HTML…if I could do web design, do you think I’d be sitting on my ass making $32,000 a year typing your fucking letters that I can’t read, asshat? Der.), and eating free lunches here and there. It’s been a good past couple of days work-wise, really.

Oh, and I got my hair done last night, and it looks ROCKIN’. I need to take pics tonight, and then I’ll download them at home and post them tomorrow…sorry for the delay! If you wanna see pics of me right this very second, go visit at Lushy’s blog, and you can see a pic of me AND the Twin from back when we were 17. (New Year’s Eve party, to be exact. So far, everyone is making fun of the Twin’s dress…which was The Plan all along…) I’m the one on the left. Without the huge bow attached to my chest.

Gotta run. Work is piling up. See ya!

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

For your own safety, really.

I'd just like to say at the outset that all men should probably do themselves a favor and stay at least 300 feet away from me at all times today. Unless you want to be suddenly yelled at, cried upon, or kicked in the groin, in which case, feel free to approach!

Not in a good mood. Getting my hair done later, which should help, but we'll see. I did the smart thing today, at least, and I remembered to bring my glasses with me to work in case my right fucking eye decides to be a dick again (hm. It must be male.), so that's good.

Oh. Fabulous. I just got an e-mail from my boss that said they're taking all the admins to lunch today at Joe D's in Brookside. Of course, I can't go, since I need to go home to take care of the puppy prior to going to my hair appointment. Perfect.

See? The day is just unwinding in an unproportionately lovely fashion. So just stay the fuck away, ok? It's really just me looking out for you is the thing...

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Serious problem...

I am experiencing a serious problem and I don't know what to do about it.

My right eye is FREAKING the fuck out, and not seeming to be happy at all, I don't have my glasses with me so taking out the contact isn't an option, and I am considering cancelling on going to yoga tonight because of it.

I know, I're probably thinking that this isn't all that huge of a "problem" per se. But let me spell this out: I have PMS. I am self-centered. I am a fat-ass. Yep, all of these things kind of point in the direction of me really needing this yoga class tonight, my friends! (Ok, except for the self-centered thing. That was just me keeping the theme of the day in tact...)

I could use the relaxation. I could use the strength building exercises. I could use the peace and quiet for an hour and a half.


What do I do? (This isn't a normal suck-it-up-and-deal-with-it eye irritation. I'm at the point of wanting to gouge it out, it's bothering me so much, ok? And no, I can't just take the one contact lense out. I'm blind. Taking it out would mean that I'd need a patch in order to minimize my vision down to just the one good eye I have left, and unfortunately, I'm fresh out of patches, and the narrow-minded owners of the Plaza haven't opened a pirate-supply store in the area as of yet. This sucks.)

I'd better go tell my coworker that I go with usually that I'm gonna be heading home after work instead of going to yoga. Dammit. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking eyeball pain in my ass.

You've got a nerve to be asking a favor!

Recently, I’ve been having a lot of strange thoughts in my head regarding the person I’ve become throughout the recent years of my life. Am I ok with the things that I do? The thoughts I have? The feelings that result from the activities that I participate in? I pick on my boyfriend about leaving the patio door unlocked at night, and for the junk he drags into the house on his work shoes, and for the way he teases me when it just isn’t a good time to do so. I’ve managed to piss off my older sisters, no matter what I say or do, through whatever small amount of contact we’ve had over the past couple of years. I feel like I’ve lost touch with old friends that used to mean a lot to me, but wonder why that happens, and what the hell I’m supposed to do about it. I like my hermitdome much of the time, and prefer that my life just include a small circle of people in it, really. Does that make me a bad person? I like the incidental contact I have with certain people, but feel crowded when they call me every weekend wanting to talk for 2 hours at a time, or asking if I want to go out. I know they need to talk, and I want to be there for them, but I also want to walk on the treadmill, eat my dinner, and be lazy for a while in front of the t.v., and those 2 hours of chat-time just cut a huge chunk out of that schedule.

I’m so focused these days on making ends meet and making sure the house is kept up to code and making sure that I don’t push the boyfriend too far that he starts thinking of me as a shrew instead of a possible future wife. I’m having a hard time enjoying my time at home lately because the trees in the backyard look like shit and need to be trimmed, and there’s clearly a water leak in my roof over my kitchen and garage and I can’t afford to have the handyman come until June and Christ I hope it doesn’t get worse before then, and I need to weed the yard, and I need to clean the siding and the gutters and I’m just the worst homeowner ever because I decided to spend $3,600 on a new driveway and now I feel all vain and shit, and my house is constantly a mess because the puppy and the boyfriend and holy crap ME and everything and we make a mess and there’s no way to stop it and as soon as I clean there it is all messed up again!

And THIS is the shit I focus on. Not my stepmother’s birthday (which was two weeks ago, and her card is still sitting on my desk next to me…) or my oldest best friend’s birthday (2 days after stepmom’s, and card is in the same place) or what has happened to a good friend that I used to spend loads of time with and haven’t seen since Christmas or when I’m going to start attending the church in my neighborhood and join their choir or when I’m going to follow up on the voice-over demos that I personally delivered back in November or when I’m going to be able to afford (money and time-wise) another trip home to visit family (and dammit, why can’t they come to visit ME every now and then, huh? So I can use my vacation time for actual vacations to nifty places like Puerto Rico and such?) and see? There goes my mind off on the selfish tangent again.

I keep figuring that at some point in my life, I’ll have time to focus on something other than myself. And in the meantime, I’m just going to have to be seen as being an asshole, selfish, self-centered person that doesn’t do anything for anyone other than herself all the time.

Oh, wait. I work 40 hours a week as an admin, and therefore give much more of myself to others on a regular basis than I usually give myself credit for. I forgot about that. I take back all that bad crap I just said about myself. Moving along then…

Monday, April 24, 2006

Blogger is not feeling well today...neither am I.

(I typed the following at about 8:30 this morning, but Blogger wasn't behaving 'round then...)

I'm not sure if the internet knows that I have a ton of work to do, and that's why it's moving slower than it has in ages, or if it's just tired, like I am, because it's a Monday morning. (A Monday morning after a stormy night, no less...the puppy doesn't like thunder, as it turns out. Fabulous.) Regardless of it's reasons for doing so, it is loading incredibly slowly, it's frustrating the HELL out of me, and I have to make this quick, anyway...

Never did hear any "official" explanation for the evacuation that happened across the street from my office last Friday. (At the Halls Department store, for those of you in town wondering what was up...) They evacuated starting at about 4, and by 5:30, the police had cleared out. No news stories were shown that night, and I still can't find anything online about it, although I haven't searched all that hard, since I have a stack of work that needs to be done due to me ignoring the shit out of it on Friday.

Suffice it to say, we did not blow up, all is well on the Plaza, thank you and come again.

More later. Much, much more, I'm sure. Because, well, you know me...

Friday, April 21, 2006

Bomb threat across the street from my work. Everyone's leaving, so I'm heading out for a beer. Bye, muthafuckas!!

Feeling a bit more mellowed now...

I'm really glad this week is over. Although it isn't really completely over, it's just sort of over, and then it kind of continues on tomorrow, but that involves free food, and it's mid-day so I can still sleep in, and that's all that matters, really. I'm planning on doing yard work this weekend, too. Wish me luck. Bleh.

So my coworker told me the other day that she had just watched our boss write a check for $1.5 million for his taxes last year, and she didn't really know how to get past that. I told her I had just written a check for $3,600 for my fucking driveway, and THAT was hard enough to do...but $1.5 million?? That would be impossible, I think. Apparently he'd "had a couple of deals that went really well" whatever that means. But I just wanted to share this little tidbit so that all of the folks out there that think the rich don't have to shell out big bucks when it comes to their taxes? Yeah. $1.5 million. There ya go. Hope that helps some of y'all feel better.

That reminds me...I used to enjoy selling stock at a loss, just so I wouldn't have to pay out taxes on additional income come tax time. In fact, it usually helped me get a bit more of a return, as I recall. I'm thinking it's probly a good thing that I don't dabble in the stock market any more.

I have so many things in my head before I come in here and start typing, honest I do. But then I get to it, and it all rushes off someplace else, where I can no longer access it. Sucks. I need to start jotting down notes. Like the $1.5 million tax thing? Yeah, I've been meaning to post about that since Monday. Oh well!

Ok, just got a letter given to me that needs to be typed up, so more later, I'm sure. It's a bit quiet around here today and I don't think anyone really wants to do any work. I'm definitely in that category myself...

Bitter sweet Friday...

On the way to work this morning, I was behind no less than 3 people that were left-turn challenged. (How about getting over a bit so that the people going straight can get around your ass while you wait for an opening to turn, asshat? DER!) And then I saw a deer running breakneck across Wornall at about 65th Street, which was odd. At first I thought it was a dog that had gotten away from it's owner, but as I got closer, I realized that it was a deer, and it was very lucky it didn't get hit. Thank goodness for 35 MPH zones and the people that actually go the speed limit in them! (To anyone who might be wondering just how odd a deer running across this street is, let me just give some perspective for some folks on it, and hopefully this helps all 5 of my readers: it would be like seeing a deer running across La Jolla Village Drive towards the UTC shopping center. Or like seeing one running across Commonwealth Ave in Boston towards the Christian Science Church Park. Or like seeing one run across Santa Margarita Parkway towards any number of the little shopping centers that line that damned street. Basically, it left me wondering where the hell it came from, and where the hell it was gonna go. It was running towards a bank...maybe it needed some cash for a party it's hitting later tonight. I dunno.)

I got here this morning hoping for a good breakfast, and I should really know better by now - if I'm hoping for a good breakfast to be served, chances are, it's gonna be a crap breakfast that's laid out. Yeah, we have sugar, sugar, and more sugar today. Yay! Let's see, there are mini muffins and cinnamon rolls and fruit and juice. See? Sugar. Oh, I forgot about the mini-boxes of cereal. Sugar with some fake injected protein. Yummy.

So I need to head down the street to mcDonald's it seems, where I can get an egg mcmuffin with no cheese and a Diet Coke, and be a happy girl for the rest of the a.m. Tootles...

Thursday, April 20, 2006

I just never did care much for the stuff...

I listen to 2 radion stations when I'm not listening to cd's in my car. AM 1660, which is the local classical radio station, and 96.5 The Buzz, of course. Is it weird that when The Buzz is playing a song I don't like/obnoxious commercials, I switch over to the classical station for a bit until the same thing happens there, and makes me switch back? Or is it more common than I realized for most people that enjoy alternative music to also enjoy classical music? Also, how odd is it that I can't stand to listen to opera (most of it, anyway), and yet I studied to be an opera singer for about 5 years when I was younger? Weird, right? I mean, it's obviously a good thing that I dropped the interest in it after a bit since I don't really care for it, and the classical training that I have was invaluable in the overall development of my voice as I know it, really. But the only type of operatic singing I truly enjoy is listening to Cecilia Bartoli live when I have the chance. Which has happened once, and I wish would happen more. I went to several operas when I was younger, and enjoyed them to a certain extent, but I think I really just pretended to enjoy them because I thought I was supposed to. Or something.


The Buzz dj that was on when I drove home to visit with the puppy at lunchtime today was talking about this 4/20 nonsense. Seems he doesn't care much about it because he doesn't smoke pot because it causes a funny reaction in him that he doesn't like. That's all well and good, but I'm quite tired of this 4/20 bullshit. There's a store in town called Munchiez that caters specifically to the pot-smoking public, and I think that's a crock of shit. The store hours are even insane! 4:20 p.m. to 4:20 a.m. When did this whole 4/20 (or 4:20) thing get so out of control? I didn't even know what the fuck it was until I saw a couple of blogs mentioning it the last couple of years and finally asked.

It just bugs me, is all. I never cared for the idea of smoking pot (or doing any other illegal drugs, for that matter), and so I haven't. Second hand pot smoke makes me nauseous, so I guess it's a good thing I've never tried it, because maybe it wouldn't like me much either. It's just all getting a little bit too out of control for my taste, and frankly, I wish I'd never learned what the term meant. But to be quite honest, 4 years ago, I hadn't ever heard it mentioned. And now today, I hear a girl requesting the song "Friends with P" because it's a song about being friends with "pot", and so it should be played on the day that celebrates pot being smoked, of course. Ridiculous.

Sorry. Just needed to get that shit off my chest. I found a project I can work on at this point, so I'd best get to it.

It's a beautiful day in the neighb...whatever.

You mean, Hollywood spun a couple of stories and exploited the actual fact of situations in order to profit from them monetarily? Really? Naw...I don't believe it! Not Hollywood!! (Didn't these movies come out, like, 3 years ago, or something? 3rd world countries really need to step it up on their protests of current events, I think...)

I'm not feeling completely lovely today, unfortunately. I woke up from a dream about a coworker having food poisoning to realize that I wasn't feeling all that great myself. I wasn't feeling crappy enough (heh) to skip work, though, so I have decided to ignore whatever is happening to me today, and I'm here plugging away at nothing much so far. Thank goodness for quiet days like this.

It can't be the dinner I made last night...the boyfriend didn't have any problems today, and he ate it too. Could it have been the Tecate I drank along with dinner? Hmm...

I had a terrible time yesterday with regards to a function I arranged for a coworker at one of the buildings he represents. We've been planning it for a couple of weeks, and while the table set-up and room clean-up happened without incident (thank goodness!), the food was not so easy to deal with. I decided on ordering a catered lunch from Panera Bread, as they were reasonable with their pricing, and I've been to functions that had been catered by them before and I enjoyed them a lot. So I called them last Friday to make arrangements for the lunch yesterday, and set up the food drop off time as between 10:30 and 11 a.m. I arrived at the site at 10:30, and then waited. And waited. And waited. And then my coworkers arrived. And so we all waited together. And then Panera called me at 11, said that they had received a LOT of catering orders just the day before, and were running a bit behind consequently. I reminded them that I called in MY order over 4 days prior, and told them that we needed the food to be there no later than 11:15, so that we could get things set up before any of the guests arrived - didn't want any overlap, really. They said that was great...they really only needed another 10 minutes, so they'd see us before 11:15. Cool.

Yeah, 11:20 comes and goes, and my coworker/boss-type-thing wants to speak to the catering people himself. I let him go off. It was 11:30, and we had no food for a lunch that we were providing to folks as part of the open house we were having. The open house started at 11:30, and while I was hoping that most people wouldn't arrive until closer to noon, we needed to be prepared, just in case. So they FINALLY arrive at 11:35. I shit you not. I was pretty angry, but we got things set up, we discussed the bill, which I wasn't prepared to sign without a discount being noted, and so the chick that was delivering the food called her manager. She came back to me a couple of minutes later and told me it was all free. $380 worth of food for free? That'll work. I thanked her, and went back to the open house, which was starting to fill up with folks arriving. At one point, I wandered over by the salad area to check and see how many plates we had - the stack they'd brought to us looked low for the crowd of 50 we were expecting - and a gentleman approached me. "Do you know where the napkins are?" I looked around...I couldn't believe it. They hadn't brought any napkins, and I completely missed that in my happiness over the food finally being delivered. He continued, "Am I supposed to just use my sleeve?" He was laughing as he said it...I felt terrible about that because that was just about all he COULD do, really. I said, "Yep! For the moment anyway...I'll be right back."

I went and called the restaurant. A girl answered the phone, and she didn't even know what to say as a greeting. "Hello, Bread, how can I help you?" I asked for a manager or one of the two catering chicks I was working with. The girl asked me to hold on, and then hung up on me.

I called back, and just then, I saw my other coworker pulling into the parking lot. I didn't even have my purse on me, I just ran out to her and told her to keep the car running. I hopped in and told her quickly what was up. I got a new sales person from Panera on the phone this time, and he told me that the people I was asking for were too busy, but he wanted to know if this had "something to do with the Via Panera order". I think he recognized my voice from all the phone calls I'd made earlier. "Yes," I said. "We have about 30 plates to feed 50 people, and someone just asked me if he's supposed to use his sleeve instead of any napkins, because we don't have any!!!" I asked him if we could just come and get the items, he said he would have a bag of them ready to go, and we hung up.

So, I get back to the party, where about 30 people are enjoying their salads and sammiches without any napkins, which I distribute as discreetly as I can, and then I settle in to grab some lunch. I put some salad on my plate, and then went to grab a fork before moving down to choose a sammich half to eat. But there are only 3 forks left in the cup. I look around...there aren't any more forks than that. Just the 3 left. And we have at least enough salad to feed around 10 more people. There was nothing else to do. My coworker and I stood off to the side of the table and ate as we watched to see what people would do once the forks were all gone. One gentleman found a stray fork behind the sammich boxes. And the next two did what I would have done - they took knives, and wandered off to stab their salad as best they could.

It was dispicable. And yes, at least we got it all for free (which completely surprised me), but next time, I'll pay more money for the more experienced and diligent catering services. At my old job, I had events in hotels where they served the food themselves, and it was just easier to deal with because they were right on site, and if there were any problems they could be dealt with directly. This job will probably never, ever be like that. So if anyone in the city has any suggestions/ideas about reasonably priced catering companies they've had a good experience with, then send me an e-mail, will ya? I need the guidance so I can be prepared in the future.

I don't have much work to do today, but I do have to find some so I'm not a total putz. Later...

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Please, PLEASE! Just let this be the end of it...

Well, they did it. They had their baby. Yay. It's done. Can we all pay attention to something else now, please? (And can someone please prove that it actually IS their baby? The speculation has grown over the last few weeks that perhaps Katie wasn't even carrying a child. (Link obtained courtesy of wiscolizard over at "is it just me?" If you haven't read her blog lately, then go now. Enjoy.) Although she definitely carried the look of a terribly pregnant woman rather well, I thought...I might have done it without half of my head of hair hanging in my face as "bangs", but, you each their own.)

Anyway, this morning, I heard them talking about the birth of little Suri (um, isn't that an old-fashioned buggy? You know, suri with the fringe on top and all? And yes, I know that's actually a "surry", but still...a little too close in pronunciation, no? Or is it pronounced weird, like Demi pronounces her name De-mee instead of how it should be pronounced (i.e. De-meye...because it's spelled like "semi", der, so that's how it's supposed to sound)? Maybe her name is pronounced Sur-eye? I dunno.) and Diane Sawyer made mention of the fact that Brooke Shields had her baby just a few hours apart from when Katie had hers, and that they had them in the same place, on the same floor of the hospital. Now, I thought that baby was supposed to be born at home. Right? Wasn't it? I wonder if, in the late hours right before the baby was born, Katie didn't totally freak out and DEMAND that she be taken to a hospital where she could give birth in a normal manner. Fuck that silence crap! I can just see it now...the pain of childbirth breaking the poor girl out of her brainwashed stupor and returning her to the reality that exists outside of her creepy, creepy relationship with a Scientologist twice her age. I really hope it happened that way. Seriously. Something has to snap that girl out of it.

My coworker and I have been going back and forth about this Scientology thing for the last few days, actually. He was making fun of them last week, based on the craziness that is Tom Cruise, and I had to stop him and tell him that his poking fun was offensive to me, as I, too, am a Scientologist. He thought I was kidding (and I kind of was, of course), but I assured him that I am, indeed, a Scientologist, and nothing can change that fact. I'm a member of the fucking "church" because back when I was 19, I was stupid, and I had a stupid Scientologist boyfriend that wanted us to learn to communicate better. His solution (probly more his mom's solution now that I think back on it...) was to enroll in a communication course at the Celebrity Center, which is where he attended his Scientology courses. I had to sign a document stating that I would never say anything disparaging about the "church" either verbally or in writing (oops), and if I did and they found out about it, they could sue me. Also, I had to pay about $150 for the course, which I couldn't figure out how to do. My dad was my source of income back then, as I was in college, and whether I wrote a check or put it on the credit card he would find out. Oh, and keep in mind that the $150 I had to pay was actually a discounted amount, since I was with a boy who's mother was so high up in the "church" and all, and it was my first course, so maybe I got a 10% discount for that, or something...I can't remember exactly. But I do know that it originally cost something like $250. Which is ridiculous. But I digress.

Basically, I'm a Scientologist for life, although that was the one and only course I ever took, and while I learned a LOT while I did it, and it was fun to do something like that with the boyfriend at the time and all, I did NOT like the e-meter thing I had to do at the end of the course, and I hated that my dad figured out that I'd done it when he came across my credit card statement a few weeks later. He told me he would not tell my mom, as it would likely upset her a bit, but he wanted me to stay away from that place from then on. I continued to go to the Center throughout the rest of the relationship I had with the was a lovely place to go and have coffee, or just to walk around and hang out. But I never took another course. (Oh, and the communication between the boyfriend and I didn't improve all that much anyway. Unless his decision to break up with me because I was getting fat - when I had gained about 5 pounds total during our relationship - and then his ultimate decision to stop accepting my calls, and to have his mommy tell me to stop calling was considered good communication. Oh, and he had a bracelet that he wore since the time I met him that he received as a present from his family when he was declared "clear" when he was 16, or something, and I can say with a certain amount of confidence: dude was NOT clear. Nuh-uh. Not in the least.)

So, yeah, my coworker keeps making fun of me now, and even started siging his e-mails "Tom Cruise, Scientologist" because he's funny like that.

Ok, I need to get back to my brainwashing now. I have a lunch that I've put together later for some brokers where I will attempt to win them over to my side by offering a chance to win a free 60 GB iPod and where I will tempt them with some sammiches and salads and cookies from Panera. Yep...I'm eeeevil...taste the sourdough goodness, and enjoy the chocolate chip richness, and BE UNDER MY POWER, MUTHAFUCKAS!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Not sure if I've mentioned this before, but...

Here's a basic road courtesy equation that just doesn't add up properly for some people: You, driving forward toward some destination (maybe a labotomy appointment, perhaps to have some sort of driver's training, I dunno...) + me, driving behind you in a brand-newly washed car = me getting pissed off when you run your windshield wiper fluid to clean your goddammed windshield WHILE YOU'RE IN FORWARD MOTION!!! Newsflash, jackass: You shouldn't clean your windshield while in forward motion unless you are alone on the street (meaning any car that is behind you is at least 500 feet behind you), because otherwise, your damned nasty fluid comes flying back and hits the car behind you. I know, I know...the theory of relativity is simply lost on some folks, and in fact, I'm not exactly sure what it is or if it applies to this situation, but I know that it is the theory that any object in motion will stay in motion, or something like that. Hence the wiper fluid moves backwards as you swipe it from your windshield with the windsheild wipers (and then it's got all the shit and dirt on your windshield along with it when it hits the car behind you - gross).

This is a common sense thing, folks. Just don't clean your windshield unless you're stopped (i.e. in the driveway before you even go anywhere would be a good place) or unless there isn't a car behind you at all. And cars on the other side of the road count, FYI. Car washes cost me about $20 when I get them, and having your nasty-ass wiper fluid + all the nasty-ass shit on your windshield flying back to hit my car really, really, REALLY infuriates me. Hell, even when I haven't washed my car for days, it STILL bothers me, because fuck if I want all the shit off of your fuckin' windshield adding to the dirtiness on my car, dammit. Just use your brains. FUCK!

This morning, I actually had a pleasant drive in to work. I drove the speed limit (ok, sort of...), and listened to the morning show on The Buzz, and enjoyed the little bit that I happened to catch. Apparently, this chick has a friend that watches her child for her every now and then, and she watches her friend's child now and then. It's a play-date for the kids, and a chance for the mommy to get some stuff done/go on a date/hang out by herself for a bit. Perfect arrangement. Unfortunately, this friend of hers has an ex-husband that shares the play-date duties whenever he has custody of their child during the time that the play date is set to take place.
So. Apparently, this last play date was meant to be a go-to-the-movies-to-see-Ice Age II thing. Kids are looking forward to it, and the parents are happy that they get to go see's an all around good time. Except this chick's kid comes home from the play date with a new habit. She likes to pretend to smoke things. Straws, toothpicks, sticks, whatever. She's picking everything up and saying, "Look mommy! [Mimicks the smoking] I do it better than anybody!" So the mommy has a slight inclination that perhaps her daughter missed seeing Ice Age II, and maybe went and saw a grown-up film called "Thank You for Smoking" instead. She's really pissed about it too, because smoking is a filthy habit, her child is only 5, and she doesn't know what the fuck the ex-husband was thinking doing such a stupid thing.
So the radio show this morning has this "I Want An Apology Tuesday" deal they do. It used to be called "Confessional Tuesday", but it's changed since I last listened to it, I guess. So they call this guy and get him on the phone, and they ask him if he has anything that he might've lied about to anyone lately, and he's a man so of course he hasn't any clue about what he might've done (because let's face it, tend to forget the bad shit, right? Right.), and this chick gets on the line and asks him what movie he took her daughter to see, and he starts to sound a bit flustered and explains that they got there too late to see Ice Age, so he took them to see another movie. A movie he wanted to see. And it was just the way he was saying it, and the way this chick was so pissed at him, and I was just cracking up. I know that I side with the chick, and the guy was a total MORON for choosing to take children to see Thank You for Smoking, but it was just so fucking funny to listen to the thing roll out! The guy said, "Other people bring their children to see that movie!" And the radio personalities said, "Yeah, TOBACCO LOBBYISTS!" And I'm trying not to pee my pants listening to the transaction as the chick who's daughter is now mimicking smoking habits wherever she goes is still freaking out and tells the guy that his daughter is no longer allowed to play with her daughter due to his stupidity, and I'm thinking he couldn't care less about that because, let's face it...the guy doesn't know how to raise children. It was just all so comical. A very good way to start the day.
Especially considering I need to launch into the completion of a very boring project right now. Bleh. Later...

Monday, April 17, 2006

Weekend observations.

- My puppy is bipolar. Perhaps all puppies are bipolar, but this one just stands out a bit more to me in her dysfunctionality since I spend about 13 hours a day with her 2 days a week, and am half of the party she relies upon for her training in life. Not that she even knows she's being trained, but whatev. Girl is bi-fucking-polar, and that is that. I took her out to the yard on Sunday morning after I woke up fucking early to let her out and give her breakfast, and how does she reward me? By coming inside, heading into the computer room, and pooping on the goddammed carpet in there. The boyfriend and I observed her behaving oddly on Saturday night, and somehow it was a bit easier to take while he was there, since part of her odd behavior involves trying to chomp the toes off of my feet one by one as she makes passes at them while running by the couch at breakneck speed, and he finally grabbed her and held her nice and tight, which seemed to pull her out of her freak-side and return her to her cute little puppy side. She was even licking his hand and shit. Little snot.

So last night, I was alone with her as the boyfriend had to close the restaurant, and she started doing the weird run-around-nonstop-panting-freaking-out-and-being-scary-little-puppy thing, and all I could do was ask her to stop (yelling does absolutely nothing...I've found that saying "stop" in a firm, but relatively quiet voice freaks her out more and makes her stop - for about a second), tuck my feet up on the couch to a point where her sharp little teeth couldn't reach them, and then texted the boyfriend that she was in freak-out mode again. Oddly enough, me ignoring her and focussing so hard on texting the boyfriend seemed to calm her down a bit, but DAMN. Bitch gets scary now and then, is my point! It is to my advantage that she is only 4 pounds, and admittedly, watching her run around like she's been lit on fire is actually rather funny, if she would just skip the stopping to bite me part and all. But I don't know what sends her into these little fits of rage. It's not due to us ignoring her...on the contrary, it usually happens after we've been petting her, and playing with her, or just holding her and scratching her head now and then while she sleeps. It's very strange. I'm sure I'll get more used to it over time.

- Next year, I'm doing a time-lapse photography dealio on my peony bushes in my back yard. They are awesome, and if you don't know what I'm talking about, then you'll just have to wait until next year to see. Sorry.

- I can sit in my house and do nothing (except watch t.v. and let the crazy-ass puppy out to pee) for 14 hours straight. I know that now because it's what I did yesterday. Ok, ok...I didn't do "nothing" all day long...I did get up every now and then to put some food together to eat, and made a yummy pasta sauce last night out of chopped tomatoes, ground tukey, leftover turkey pepperoni and some red wine, but that was really about it. And somehow, I was exhausted last night by the time the boyfriend got home from work. I found that odd.

- I enjoy playing with the puppy in the backyard. I actually will chase her around a bit, take her toy from her and make HER chase ME to get it back, and then I sit down on the grass right in the middle of it and look around me as though I'm just realizing where I'm at, and pick at the grass a bit, just like she does. I often wonder if my neighbors see me doing this, and worry about me being certifiable in any way. It makes me feel like I'm about 12 again, and I dig that feeling. How many grown-ups do you see just sitting in the middle of their back yards just looking around and picking at the grass? I haven't seen any lately. I'm not sure that I've seen any EVER, in fact. It feels good, though. More people should do it.

- I was watching The Next Food Network Star last night, and realized that the chick named Clarissa is only 34. No offense to her, or anything, but she looks waaaay older than 34. I thought she was 40. I'm only 32, and I don't think I look anywhere near as old as that chick does. Let's do a comparison, shall we?

Here's me:

And here's Carissa:

There's only a 2 year difference between us, y'all! But that woman looks like she could be my mother. Am I wrong? Has anyone else been watching the show? Maybe it's because I stopped tanning when I was 24, or something. Maybe it's because I'm insane, but I look at least 10 years younger than that woman, seriously...

Ok, gotta get back to work. The day is gettin' away from me...

Friday, April 14, 2006

Anything goes! (Except, maybe, me.)

I'm feeling a bit woozy right now, truth be told. Had to do a 12 hour "fast" where all I could consume was water since 7 p.m. last night, and then a nurse came to my house this morning to collect blood and urine, to weigh and measure me, to get my blood pressure, and to ask me questions about my history with smoking (which I've answered for Humana before. A couple of times now. Really...haven't smoked in a while. Seriously. Hopefully we can drop it now, as I'm getting quite bored with the topic already.). Since I haven't eaten since 7 last night, I'm already pretty damned hungry. And then she went and took two little vials of blood from me, and that isn't helping at. all. Oh, and then, I drank 3 bottles of water, one before she came, and 2 while she was there, and I still can't pee. We had to give up waiting for it to happen, since we all needed to get on with our day, and it's now been a half hour since I finished my last 16 oz bottle of water, and I still got nothing. Me. ME!! I don't have to pee when it's been literally hours since I did it last and I now have a small lake floating in my belly? Just so you're all fairly warned, this is one of the signs of the apocolypse.

But belly hurts from all the water I've put in it, and I can't wait for breakfast to get here because I'm going to eat ALL OF IT, and oh...damn. I just remembered that I forgot to brush my teeth this morning. I also left my fucking lunch at home. Damn. Damn. DAMN. Oh well...this is what happens when I have blood drawn from me without any other bit of substance in my belly besides a goddam quart of water, I s'pose.

Wait. I think I can feel it...pardon me for a moment.

Yep...thar she blows! See, it's a good thing we didn't sit around and wait for it, because we'd all be very bored and very late for the start of our days, I think. Damned weird bladder...

Ok, I need a Diet Coke, so I'd better head to the kitchen before all hell breaks out with the breakfast crowd. I'm hoping that since it's Good Friday, things will be pretty quiet around here, and there will be all the more breakfast for me, and me alone. RUN AND HIDE, BACON MUTHAFUCKA!!! I'M COMIN' AFTER YO ASS, AND IT AIN'T GON' BE PRETTY!!!

Sorry...sorry about that. Apparently, my alter-ego feels free to express herself as tenaciously as possible when she's low on blood. Poor thing. She just needs some sustenance! DIET COKE!!! And FRIDAY!!! What is a better combo than that, huh? That's right. Friday, Diet Coke, and BACON!!! Awww yeah...

Thursday, April 13, 2006

I'm a little grossed out, to be quite honest.

Oh my GOD!!! What is WRONG with this woman??? The district attorney said that in their opinion "...these were intentional violations of the terms of her release..." Um, DER!! In EVERYBODY'S fucking opinion they had to be intentional!! How does one "accidentally" use the internet to "accidentally" set up an account on My Space, and then "accidentally" communicate with the family of the boy she raped??? (Ok, it was statutory, and all, and I'm SURE that the boy didn't mind it, but whatev. Still sick as hell.)

This woman needs mental assistance, seriously. GOD!! Gross! Blech! Ew!! Sex with a 13 year old!! AUGH!!!!!


And this story just takes the cake. This kid lit himself on fire at a gas station called "Common Cents" because he had (a) been siphoning gas out of an automobile (that belonged to a firefighter, ironically enough), (b) got some gas on his pant legs, and then (c) lit his lighter and held it close to the pant legs because he wanted to see how wet his pants were? Seriously? No. Really???

I just don't even know how to end a post after seeing a story like that. Maybe some of the dumb has rubbed off on me...

Wait...I can't end it. I forgot about the other stories I wanted to post about. Here we go...


Yes, these people live in the Kansas City area. But I'm sure they would have performed just as dispicable an act had they lived in, say, New York or San Diego or Chicago, ok? They were just down on their luck, anyway. We shouldn't be chastising them for choosing to try to scam hundreds and possibly thousands of people into giving them cash so they could live better. We should be helping them to find the proper size straight-jackets, actually, because they MUST be completely mentally incompetent if they didn't think their plan through enough to realize that the community they live in might catch on to their scam after they didn't show up in public with 6 babies eventually, right? Right? Oh...I give up.


I don't know what to think about this one yet. Seems veeerrrry fishy to me, actually. The girl disappeared from her driveway, but was able to make a 911 call from the van she'd been kidnapped in without her kidnapper hearing her chatting on the phone, and then she shows up 15 hours later at a house less than a mile from her home asking for help? Ok, either the guy who's house she showed up at should be a suspect, or this chick isn't telling the whole story about what happened. She's apparently a pretty smart kid and is well-liked at her high school. Did she just snap? Or is her story on the level? I can't wait to see how this one turns out...


And that's it. The Twin is on vacation in Houston as of today (and should try to meet up with Ms. Pants, IMO...but I don't know how to make that happen, really. Maybe I'll e-mail Ms. Pants in a bit and see what's up...), so she won't be commenting much for the next few days, in case people were missing her witty little notes she usually posts. I'm working on a project I HATE, so I might be posting more than usual. Other than that, everything is normal in my world. Yay for me! No secret crushes on a pre-pubescent kid, no plans to scam people out of money, no plans to set up any kidnapping hoaxes...nope. Pretty fucking boring in my world. Oh well. At least there's always the news!

Wednesday, April 12, 2006


I just had a terrible experience with the following company this week:

US Assembly
13849 S. Mur-Len Rd.
Unit J
Olathe, KS 66062

I called them on Monday to request information regarding their ability to provide service to my treadmill, as they were one of 3 companies I was directed to by my treadmill manufacturer for servicing options, and they were the closest to my home of the 3 provided. I spoke to a guy named Andrew there who explained how much the service call would cost ($99), and that any parts that needed to be ordered would be extra, of course, and if the service tech needed to return at a later date to install the parts (if they needed to be ordered, for example), then the subsequent visit would cost me $50. Seemed exhorbitant, but I thought it was my only option, so I asked him to go ahead and set up an appointment for me.

He then asked me for my credit card info. "Just in case," he said. I figured that it makes sense that sometimes, people will arrange for a call, and then not be home, or something, so they'd have to have a way to charge them for the service call, so I gave him the info knowing that they couldn't charge me until they actually performed the service call. He told me that Dan Lopez was the service tech that would be contacting me in order to arrange a time to service the machine, and if he didn't call me by Wednesday of this week, then I should give him a call back to let him know. I thanked him, and said goodbye.

So today, I head into my checking account to see if the transfer I made from my savings to pay for my new driveway has occurred yet. Sure enough, it did! But then I glance down to the other transactions that are in process, and I see that US Assembly has charged me $99 as of 4/11.

Um, WTF? I never authorized them to charge me a dime, and in fact, the damned service tech hasn't even called me to set up an appointment to come to see the machine at my house! So I'm not paying them for something that hasn't even fucking happened. I've since found another tech who will charge me only $85 to diagnose and service my machine, and we have an appointment for Monday and everything. Oh, and he hasn't charged me for something that hasn't fucking happened yet, by the way. Which is how business SHOULD be done, IMO. (At least a business like this, right? I mean, plane tickets and stuff like that can't avoid charging ahead, for obvious reasons...)

I called Andrew back, and told him what had happened. I asked him to remove the charge from my card immediately. He said that he was "...sure [he] remembers telling me that..." I didn't let him finish his sentence, as I knew what he was going to say. I told him, "You told me you were gathering my credit card info "just in case", and I did NOT authorize your company to make any charges to my card. I'm sure that had the technician actually called me to set an appointment and come to my house to service my machine, he would have had something for me to sign stating that he had been there and I approved of the charges being applied. But he never called me, Andrew. So no charges can be applied in this case, ok?" I mean, how DARE they charge me like that?!! So Andrew says that he will remove the charges, and I ask him to please let me know when he's completed that task, and we hang up.

I mean, really. Where do companies like that come from? I guess there was a tiny red flag that went up when he asked me for my credit card info, but I seriously thought they would be performing a service for me, and I've never had a company charge me for something BEFORE they even schedule the appointment to do it! Jeezy. Just thought I'd warn those that live in the area about the company. They aren't a member of the BBB, so I can't complain to them about them, so I'm doing the next best thing. Which really isn't much, I'm sure.

Yay! Time to go home!!!

Don't let the sun catch you cryin'

I went to yoga last night with a coworker. It's really a very cool deal. Our office is next to a little gym on the Plaza (bet that a lot of people that live in KC don't even know there's a gym on the Plaza, eh? Yeah, it's teeny!), and on Tuesday and Thursday nights and Saturday mornings, this chick is there to teach a yoga class. She calls it "freedom guided yoga", actually, and it felt wonderful! It was an hour and a half long class, and while I spent a bit more time than I'm used to sitting on my feet (ow...ow, ow, ow, OW!), the majority of the class was a focus on movement (duh), stretching the back and working on feeling the core of my body doing the work, and focussing on my breathing. My favorite parts were where we would do something super-strenuous (without hurting ourselves, mind you), and then we were instructed to lay flat and still and relax all muscles immediately following the strenuous exercise. And at the very end of class, she had us just lay back with our knees elevated with these little foam block thingies, and just breathe and relax and try to make sure we weren't tensing up any of the muscles in our bodies. I almost fell asleep! It was just so nice.

And it's only $60 for 6 sessions! So if I go once a week (which is my plan for now), then it only costs $40 a month, and it just feels too good to not make an effort to go at least once a week from now on. And it's so convenient! Class on Tuesdays begins at 5:30, so I get off work at 5 change into my yoga clothes and head next door at about 5:10, and then sit there and stretch until class starts. Perfect! Thursday's class starts at 7, so it's totally doable, too, but it's less convenient as I'd drive all the way home and then come back down to the Plaza an hour and a half later, and I just don't see that happening really. I might try to take Saturday morning's class sometime, but only if I have to miss a Tuesday.

So today I'm a bit sore, but it's not too bad, and I'm just feeling really much more relaxed and easy going. Even though I paid about $3,600 to have my driveway replaced this week, and the puppy has taken to attacking me viciously (as viciously as she can, really, which is not all that bad as she is a 4 pound ball o' fur) when she wants to play at night, and I have not lost any weight this week so the Humana-sanctioned nurse that will be coming over to my house on Friday morning to weigh me and take my blood and all that will likely laugh in my face when she puts me on the scale...but I don't care. Body be damned...I feed it well, exercise it regularly, and give it more water than it needs every day, and it STILL insists on being 185 - 187 pounds after 4 months of me working it out 5 goddammed days a week. I don't care any more. And it's not that I've been depriving myself of anything, really...although I can admit to skipping more than one dinner over the past couple of weeks...but I'm coming into a level of acceptance of myself that is healthier than what I've been facing for the past few months, is all. I really wanted to wear that size 14 dress to a wedding at the end of summer, but I probably won't be able to. That's ok, though. I'll wear something else, and I'm sure it'll be fine. I'll look pretty and happy anyway because I'm healthy as a horse, and that has a special glow all it's own, just like being skinny does. Plus I have a rockin' hair-do (and will be doing something new with the color as of this next month, so watch out!), and that helps a lot when it comes to being a stylish fat girl.

Ok, I need to go find a jacuzzi to settle into for the next few hours. Pardon me...

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

I think I need therapy...

I have the hardest time letting things go. Relationships, whether personal, professional, or anything in between, require a lot of thought from me. And the longer they last, or the more drama they brought with them into my life, the harder it is for me to just stop thinking about them. I kind of hate that sometimes, but it's a fact of my life regardless. I gotta be me, right? Right.

So recently, I went to dinner with an old coworker. She and I stay in touch as she's a really, really good person, and I'm blessed to know her. She makes me laugh, I make her laugh, we went through the horrors of the old job together, we talked about men and customers and just people in general that piss us off, and we supported each other in our daily lives as much as we could. And then I left her behind when I gave my notice and quit last I try to remain as good a support system as possible for her in that regard since I almost felt like I was abandoning her there.

At dinner, she and I talked like we always have. And we talked about how the job is...and while I can't go into any specific details about what we talked about (I guess I kind of forgot, really), just know that I certainly know how she feels about her day to day job. And she knows how I felt about it while I was there. Unappreciated doesn't even begin to scratch the surface. If you're not familiar with some of the specifics about my own experiences, just go here for some info. Or here. That should be sufficient explanation.

Anyway, I've been wanting to do it, and I've thought of doing it, and I finally DID do it...I wrote a letter to the top executives over the division of the company I used to work for. I wrote it two weeks ago. And I never sent it. I've been thinking about it off and on since then, and I went back to it today and corrected a few things, removed references to specific information that might've been shared with me since I left, removed specific references to certain coworkers that I will have to see in a month or so, just in case this gets back to them (which I'm sure it will), and then I sent it to the big boys.

Now, whether or not the big boys actually ever read the letter I sent them remains to be seen. Whether or not it gets spread around the division and region I used to work for is another thing. I'm sure that will happen. But again, I don't care much.

But I do care about all the wonderful people that remain at that crappy-ass company in the position that I was in for all those years. I do care that they get treated fairly, and are heard with regards to their concerns about their income and how they feel they should be properly compensated. I do care that the management stops thinking of positions in terms of whether they are "producers" or not, because the argument over which comes first: the money or the processing needs to stop. Just stop right now. If it weren't for the support staff they have at that company, they would be a complete shitty pile of a mess.

Maybe I just crave a little drama in my life...who knows? But I finally feel like I can tell them all the things I wanted to tell them for the last 2 years I was with them, but I was afraid to say. I finally feel like I can skip right over the heads of the old bosses I had, and go straight to the big guys (or rather, the big guys' admin assistants...) to tell them how I felt when I worked for the management they chose to employ. They can't do anything to me now. I don't work for their sorry asses any more.

And now, I finally feel like I can let it all go. Thank GOD.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Why can't we all just be thin and healthy, dammit?

It is PERFECT outside right now. It's probably about 75 degrees, dry as a bone, and a bit breezy out on the Plaza this afternoon. It makes a person want to love life more than ever, it does.

Now, the weird little chaffed spot that is on my inner thigh up where my leg meets my taco? That makes me not enjoy life so much. Chaffing and painful bumps (which, again, just seems to happen to those of us bigger folk that still walk at a brisk pace on a regular basis) definitely can put a damper onto an otherwise enjoyable afternoon.

I called today to schedule a maintenance appointment for my treadmill. I've had the darned thing for over 5 years now, and I've never had it looked at. Never had a need, really! It works perfectly, still has the proper screen read-outs and everything, and it does the basic job I need it to: it runs a tread around in a loop so I can walk at a designated pace for a set period of time. A couple of weeks ago, however, I noticed that the little pad thingy that is on the machine between the tread and the platform that I walk on has started to shift itself. And to be quite honest, the machine is called a "Quiet Step", or some other shit like that, and it ain't quiet at. all. So I figure it's time to have someone look it over, and make sure it isn't going to die soon.

I wrote to the company (ProForm) last week looking for companies that are certified to provide my machine with service in the area. They sent me back an e-mail within 24 hours (good job there) listing 3 companies that have technicians that can help me. The top two seemed was in Iowa, and the other was in Wichita. The third was in Olathe, and as that is about 15 minutes from my house, I thought it would be the best option.

And this is what I hate about shit like's $99 just for the service call to be performed. That means that a service tech will come to my house, diagnose the problem, and hopefully be able to fix it without needing to order parts, and the base fee they charge me just to have a guy show up is $100, yo. WTF? If he does, indeed, need to order parts and come back at a later time to install them, that visit costs me a minimum of $50. Plus the cost of the parts.

Fortunately, I'm thinking that this is just a little tune up, and that parts won't be necessary. But $100 for someone to come loosen the belt, straighten the pad thingy, lube (heh.) the belt, and to be on their way again? Doesn't that seem a bit extreme? Or am I being unreasonable? I mean, it's not like my treadmill is kept in a pit of snakes, for chrissakes. The guy doesn't even need to walk up a staircase to get to the room I keep it in! But I guess I don't really know what goes into servicing one of these things, so I should keep my mouth shut until I see the actual level of difficulty involved when the guy comes to fix the darned thing. In the mean time, it's still usable, if a bit noisy, and that's all that matters. I love that thing, dammit. Best investment I've ever made, honestly...

But service charges can suck my big left toe, for the record.

Just plain no title, dammit.

A few weeks back, my coworker sent me this cartoon via e-mail. I printed it out, blew it up, and hung it on my bulletin board for easy reading when I needed a pick-me-up.

I read it a lot. :D

So the boyfriend has officially been moved to a new restaurant within the company he works for. (The Moose is owned by KC Hopps, and they moved him to another KC Hopps restaurant. One that is a bit more popular in the city than the Moose, and so I will be keeping the location a big secret from now on...mwahahahahahaha!!) They told him they were moving him a few weeks ago (mid-March), but then a week later, they changed their minds. And now they've changed their minds again.

The management at KC Hopps is awesome. Seriously. I wish they could teach me how to be a "good" manager, because then I'd surely get a high paying job where I could go out and work for a company that relied upon me to yank the chains of all employees, and bring the general moral of all those working below me to an all-time low.

I personally find it most interesting that they kept the boyfriend at the Moose until after he had completed the presentation of the new menu to the executives recently. He and his co-manager in the kitchen had been required to come up with several new items to add to the menu, and the execs only vetoed 2 of them, I believe. Boyfriend came up with 90% of the new items. Not sure what his co-manager came up with...some new salad, I think. (One that sounds like something I can get at Applebee's, but whatev...) Now that the new menu items have been created and presented and approved, surprise, surprise! It's time to ship boyfriend off to a new kitchen again! Shocking...What really cracks me up is that they're relying on his co-manager to be able to run the Moose smoothly without the boyfriend's help any more. I've actually been looking forward to this sort of thing for a while, really. The co-manager called the boyfriend last week on one of the boyfriend's days off to ask him how to make the chocolate mousse they serve at the restaurant. Mind you, this co-manager has worked for the company for longer than the boyfriend has (I think he's been with them for over 4 years), and was at the Moose BEFORE the boyfriend started working there. And the boyfriend has been at the Moose for over 2 years. So. Hm. This guy has worked there for over two years, and STILL doesn't know how to make one of the constant, unchanging items on the menu? CHRIST! Look up a fucking recipe for the stuff online, jackass! But no...his first idea, every GODDAM day, is to call the boyfriend for help. Well, the boyfriend is gonna have his own kitchen to worry about from now on, so his old co-worker is just gonna have to figure out how to manage on his own, now isn't he? Heh.

Just a quick question...why do people even get on these boats any more? I know I personally would approach with a general air of caution, myself...

"Dude, we're going on a day-cruise! Come's gonna be so neat!"
"Um, wait a minute...haven't something like 4 of these types of boats sunk over the last couple of months?"
"Aw, so what, man! Get on the boat! Look, 135 other people are doing it...and if they're ok with it, then we should be, too, right? Come's gonna go out into the middle of this lake where we'll be miles and miles from any kind of civilization. It'll be great!"
"Hmm...well, ok. I guess. But if this sucker sinks, I'm SO using your body as a raft!"

My fave part of the article is when they mention the fact that the lake the boat was on has a dam that provides electricity to much of the country. As though they suddenly took a break from reporting a tragic incident to give a 8th grade class geography report mid-article. "The region also receives an average of .9 inches of rain annually, and is home to the Ndukawa monkey, a species that was only discovered in the year 2006 via Faith Smith's blog."

Gotta go. Duty calls.

Friday, April 07, 2006

It's been a while.

I sooooo want to poo right now. Seriously. But I'm going home at lunch to give the puppy a bit o' freedom from her crate, and I figure I can just go then. Hopefully, it won't get scared back into me by know how that feels, right? You know, you're in a public place, and you really need to go, but you decide that you'll be home in like, a half hour, so you can just hold it till then, but for some reason it isn't quite as satisfying of a drop off as it might have been should you have gone against your instinct, and just dumped it off in the Target bathroom in the first place? Yeah...I hate it when that happens. Hope it doesn't happen today.

My body is all kinds of fucked up from trying to adjust to all new things this week, I swear. First, we had the birthday dinner for Alisha on Monday night, which was absolutely a wonderful time. But staying up later than usual, and then getting up to workout anyway on Tuesday? Yeah, that kicked my ass. Throw in a couple of sort of sleepless nights on Saturday and Sunday what with the puppy whining from the kitchen, and I hit a wall of exhaustion on Tuesday afternoon. So I slept it off...and felt much better by the time Wednesday afternoon rolled around. The boyfriend and I hadn't had sex in over a week (!!!) so we decided to take care of that on Wednesday night, so I was up later than usual again, and again, for a damned good reason but still. I got up and worked out as normal on Thursday, and it happened again - wall of exhaustion? Hello, I'm Faith. So crappy to see you on such a fine Thursday afternoon! Only, this time, I couldn't sleep it off. We had another birthday dinner last night, which was lovely as well, and then we went over to the birthday girl's house for cake and present opening afterwards. I decided to play with one of the (unusually large) kitties that had climbed into a bag, and learned that (a) this kitty has quite a reach!, and (b) he had some DAMNED sharp claws. My left index finger was essentially sliced in half, while the birthday girl's mom said, "He got you, eh?" Um, no, he didn't "get me", he MAULED my goddam index finger! But I replied, "Heh! Yeah...he's got quite a reach on him, doesn't he?" He wasn't angry...he was playing. But it still smarted a good deal, and my finger is being held together with the help of a band-aid today.

So I'm kicking my own ass, is the thing. I've put myself on a different schedule (I've been waking up at 5 instead of 5:15 - 5:20 every day so I can take care of the puppy as well as get on the treadmill and do all that good stuff at the same time), essentially ignored my vitamins for some reason (I took them today for the first time in 3 days...WTF?), and have been grumpily exploding at the boyfriend a couple of days of the week due to smaller portions of food and my extreme exhaustion. He handles it VERY well...last night, he pulled me in to a nice, big hug. The other night, he apologized for saying something the wrong way, and said he didn't mean for it to sound like it did at all. The man deserves an award of some kind. Although it's not hard to figure out what THAT might be!

I'd better get going. I've got to get home and let this load out, and to play with the puppy for a bit. Hope y'all have enjoyed the sounds of Sesame Street already (if not, read the post below this one, dammit), and I'll be sure to catch ya later...

Still counting...

Ok, after further discussion yesterday between an anonymous commenter (who has now stepped forward as "Darren") and the Twin, we have discovered that the Number 12 song that I remembered from my youth is actually called "The Pinball Number Count Song". I have since learned all sorts of interesting little things about the song, such as the fact that it was originally performed for Sesame Street by The Pointer Sisters. Love it!

You know what I love even more? I found a remixed version this morning, and now I'm gonna be playing it all fucking day long. Heh. Go. Listen. Rock out to the tune, and see the actual video that originally went with it, and flood your mind with fun, young memories!

Happy Friday!

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Toothpick Eyelids

Um, blogger totally just ate this post I just typed, and I'm too tired to deal with typing the whole thing out again. I'm falling asleep due to too little sleep again last night, is the thing. And now I'm stuck doing boring work. Sucks.

Singin' in the rain...

I had to pull together a presentation for my coworker first thing this morning, and within this presentation, I was binding together 12 different sites for the client’s review.

Am I the only one out there that remembers that Sesame Street song for the number 12? Whenever I see a 12-number sequence, I think of that song. "1 – 2 – 3 – 45 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9101112!" It was all kinds of funky, and very, very 70’s, and it still pops into my head to this day whenever I run across the sequence. I asked my coworker if he knew what I was talking about, and he said he didn’t remember it. But he does recall that he used to wish he could grow up to be Snuffleupagus when he was a kid. (And who knew that his name was actually spelled that way? I just looked it up in Wikipedia and saw the real spelling of his name. All this time I’ve been calling him "Snuffleufugus" with an "f", not a "p" in the middle of his name. Damn. Now I feel like one of those people that thinks "supposedly" is actually said "supposably.") I didn’t want to BE Snuffy, per se, but I did always look forward to seeing him in each episode. Poor, crazy old Big Bird…seein’ shit that ain’t there. I always felt so bad for him! (And a little bit confused as well…was Snuffy real, or was he imaginary? To this very day, I don’t know. Ooh! And thank you, Wikipedia, again, for giving me the story of Snuffy’s reality on the show. Go and read about it and clear your mind once and for all. I don’t have children, so I was unaware of the changes to Snuffy’s existence on the show. Interesting! Ok, not really…)

Things in my life have, of course, become all things puppy. Izzy is the sweetest little dog, and we’re having a lot of fun with her! Last night as I was preparing dinner, she lay down behind me on my kitchen rug, and started to chew on it. She likes to chew on carpets (shut up!), and it’s hard to deter her from the activity. This particular rug can take the abuse…it’s tough, and it’s seemingly made for the gnawing of little puppy teeth. However, I don’t want to encourage her to chew on any carpets in the house, so I tried to stop her by going to the living room and getting her teeny-sized kong for her to chew on instead. She promptly picked up the kong, carried it back into the living room, and then came back in the kitchen with a look on her face that seemed to say, "Silly mom…the toys belong in the living room, not in the kitchen!" And then she wandered back into the living room to do something else. Probably chew on the rug in THERE. *sigh!*

The last few days of crate training have gone exceedingly well, and I actually told the boyfriend last night that I didn’t want to jinx it, but it seemed that we had gotten the most perfect puppy ever! Yeah, I jinxed it. He took her out to do her bidness at about 8:30 or so, and when they came back in he said she’d only pee’d, which was weird because she’d finished eating long before that and hadn’t done anything else but pee since, so she was due. Then she wandered off towards the bedroom, and I don’t discourage her from doing so because her crate is in there, and I keep hoping she’ll become more comfy with it, and start going into it on her own whenever she pleases. But the boyfriend found her in my treadmill room instead. Where she had poo’d on the carpet. Little buggar.

Our response to that was to not let her lounge on the couch with us for about 20 minutes. Really, we were ignoring her cries for attention after performing a non-indoor activity like she had, in an attempt to discourage the activity from occurring again, if possible. She tried to climb up on the couch, but she’s too small to get up on her own yet, so I just told her "no Izzy!" when she tried to climb up on the edges of the cushions. It was soooo hard to listen to her cry like that and see her little concerned face, as if she was wondering whether we stopped loving her all of a sudden. Then she tried getting on the couch by the boyfriend’s legs, and her hind legs were slipping off of the floor cushion she was using for height and leverage in her attempts, and they were flailing so wildly that I couldn’t help but turn to the boyfriend and giggle into his shoulder, and he was laughing too. Eventually, she realized we were not going to give her any love for the moment, and she turned to the only friends she had left – her toys. After a couple of minutes, when she turned back to us again for another chance, we let her back up on the couch, and she collapsed onto the boyfriend’s outstretched belly contentedly. It was very cute.

We’re looking at having some seriously stormy weather again today, though, and this will be the first time I’ll have to deal with taking her out to do her thing in the rain. The last few mornings, the grass has been pretty wet due to the humidity and all overnight, so it’s not a problem with that…I’m just wondering if she’ll refuse to go outside, and I don’t know that I really have time for it today. I have to go home for lunch on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays in order to let her out, and I have lunch while I’m there. Yesterday, she did well, and I was able to get back to work just a few minutes over the hour I’m usually allotted (not that anyone notices, really). Today, if it’s raining and icky out, I can only imagine that she might not like it much. Although, I have to say that she doesn’t seem to mind the wet grass so much, so far. What bothers her is me trying to dry her off when we get back inside!

Anyway, should be an interesting day. Hope everyone out there that is in the path of these wicked storms stays safe, and has a great Thursday! YAY!! It’s Thursday!!!!!

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

As promised...

Feeling very under the weather, and about to go to bed, but I promised, so here they are. My favorite puppy pics. Enjoy!

And the other half of the day...

Was it a bad idea to eat a salad that was half shredded cabbage when I plan on going to a yoga class tonight at 5:30? Hm. I'm thinking it might've been a bad idea. Shit.

I am so tired I can hardly hold my head up. My computer at work is tweaking out, and I had to call our tech support guys, which consisted of me explaining the issue, then the guy maneuvering around in the system a bit to see what was up, and then us just sitting there...for about 15 minutes. After we'd already been on the phone for 25. Yeah, I was NOT in the mood. I was hungry, tired, and needed to get work done. I finally said, "Is there a reason you need to be dialed into my machine for this? We're just sitting here doing nothing! Can't you figure out the issue and give me a call when you have a solution?" I actually told him I was very tired, really hungry, and just plain not in the mood for this kind of crap. He told me he'd call me. Smart man.

Oh, and I was having a problem with sharp chest pains all morning until I ate my lunch just now, too. Freaks me out...I haven't felt pain like that before, and I haven't the first clue what it could be. All I CAN do is hope that it goes 'way, and that it isn't a symptom of something worse. Bah! Damned no insurance job! (Which I still love to bits and pieces, and am happy to be here, but the only thing that would make it all the more better would be the insurance thing...)

So, as I think I've mentioned before, the boyfriend and I are crate training puppy Izzy. She's young enough for it to be really effective, and we're hoping it will be a good thing for all of us in the end. So Saturday night, without having read too much info on the crate training technique, we winged it. Put the crate in the kitchen near the back door, put plenty of comfy things in there for her to sleep on, and the boyfriend tossed all her toys in with her when we went to bed, which I wasn't keen on, but whatev. We put our earplugs in, and went to sleep. She whined and howled (in her baby puppy way) a lot, and in the morning, we found that she had not been able to hold everything as we might have hoped she could. No biggy...cleaned it up, and went along on our merry way.

Same thing happened on Sunday night. Only I didn't have all day to nap off the sleeplessness on Monday like I had been able to on Sunday, so that kind of sucked. I decided to look up some more defined info about crate training online, printed the info out, highlighted the areas that I thought would be most applicable to our sitch, and then showed the boyfriend when I got home. One of the suggestions in the case of training a puppy on the fly (we don't have a week to deal with her getting used to the crate...she needs to be in it daily immediately) was to place the crate next to our bed at night, and then if she started whining, to just poke our fingers in the crate now and then to reassure her and to let her know we were there. If the whining became persisten, it was likely she needed to hit the yard, so we should take her out without too much cuddling and playing, let her do her business, and then place her back in the crate without ceremony. The boyfriend didn't like the idea of putting the crate in the bedroom, even if it was a temporary plan. I said fine, we'd do what we could, and moved on. At dinner last night, our friends convinced the boyfriend that placing the crate in the bedroom might be a good idea after all. Cool deal.

So we agreed on a schedule of who would get up with her and when, and then went to bed last night with the puppy in the room with us. We mellowed her out first by laying with her a bit on my bed, and then boyfriend popped her into her crate (in which we had also learned we should place materials that smell like us - boyfriend put in a shirt, and I put in an old pillowcase - and a clock that ticks...), and we set the alarm for a 2:30 a.m. potty-break.

The puppy didn't whine. She didn't make a peep! She was groggy when we woke her up to take her out, but boyfriend thought that maybe she had pee'd, so that was good. He popped her back in the crate, she whined a little bit and he put his fingers in to reassure her that we were still there, and then we all went back to sleep again.

It. Was. Awesome. I'm so happy that it worked out like that! And I hope it works out that way again tonight, really. Izzy needs to see her crate as more of a comforting place to go, as opposed to the mini-"jail" she might see it as in her little mind. I think we're doing a good job of making it a nicer place for her to be not only at night but when she's left alone for 3 days of the week as well.

Ok, I think the cabbage is already doing a number on my system, so I'd best get going. Damned cabbage. (Why does it have to be so hearty, healthy, and yummy?!!)

Ridiculous mornings...

I want to post my fave pics of the puppy, I do! But I tried to send too much too fast to my work e-mail or my Yahoo e-mail, and apparently neither of them took, unfortunately, so I don't have anything to post as of today. I tried! Honest, I did. But this morning became ridiculous with the multi-tasking. Between downloading pics of the puppy, trying to keep the puppy from eating a hole in my hallway carpet, doing my makeup, taking the puppy out to pee one more time before putting her back in her kennel, and trying to get dressed, I was losing my mind! Thining down the e-mails to the point where they were sendable and acceptable in size at either of my accounts I can access at work wasn't a task I was able to complete. They are coming soon, though. Along with some fun pics from the birthday dinner for our friend Alisha we went to last night.

Really though, the pics were from the after-dinner drinks we went to have at Blonde on the Plaza, so I guess they weren't from dinner, per se.

Anyway, mucho fun was had last night in honor of this chicka, whom we all helped to bring in the 26th year with a bang. At least a few of us did...some of our friends aren't so much the "bang" type, so a couple of people went home before the rest of us. But that's ok...we all had a lovely dinner together, and good times were had by the birthday girl, which is all that really mattered. She got a free dessert at dinner, and her birthday earned us all free shots at the bar we went to afterward (the fruity, weak kind...but they were yummy! And I needed weak, seriously. I don't need to be doin' shots on a Monday night, yo...), and I think she liked the presents she got, and so it was a succesful soire.

Plus, $5 martinis at Blonde before 9 p.m.!! That was quite a treat, honestly.

I've got other stuff to talk about, so I'll be back later...I have a meeting out of the office in about a half hour though, so I need to skedaddle at this point. Later!

Monday, April 03, 2006

Just testing something...

I've been wanting to post pics here for a while the way that Jessi does on her blog, or the way that BI does on his blog. (Used to be that we would have to install some crap software called "Hello" to the computer we blogged from in order to post photos directly to the blogger posts...but it seems that went away. And so I am happy now.) So I thought I'd try it out today and see if it works. And it does.

Awesome. (Pic above is of the beach at Lake Michigan when I went to visit boyfriend's parents last November. It was a perfectly gorgeous day...)

Oh, be prepared for some pics in the posts from now on, muthafuckas. Because there will be plenty. Oh yes, indeed. a PAIN in my ASS.

I'm tired this morning. I hate daylight savings time...I forgot to reset the clock in the bedroom on Saturday night, so the boyfriend went to work an hour late yesterday, and then today, I had to take the puppy out in the backyard in the dark the first 2 times. It's very hard to see whether a black puppy is squatting to do anything when it's still dark out. So, of course, she peed in the house just before I started to dry my hair. But then when we went out right before I left for work, she went again, so that was nice. (Plus, it was light out, so I could see what she was doing...)

See, a lot of people really like this daylight savings bullshit because they have extra sunlight at the end of the day. Well, I could give a flying crap about extra sunlight at the end of the day...I need it in the MORNING in order to help me wake up a bit faster. So when it comes up a full HOUR later than usual, it takes me that much longer to wake up. So I'm a bit behind for a few months until the days get longer in the middle of summer. Sucks.

The puppy is lovely to deal with so far. She's very sweet, and fun to play with, and while she seems to be having a hard time adjusting to the crating at night (we're crate-training her), we don't care much because we have ear plugs. She doesn't sleep at all during the night right now, though, and she was positively hoarse this morning after yelping, howling, and whining all night long. She takes 20 minute breaks now and then, but she pretty much goes all night, for sure. Poor little thing. Hopefully, she'll adjust to it soon and won't think we're abandoning her every time we put her in it. She was so excited to be out of it this morning, she was nipping at my face, and wouldn't let me walk away from her to even put water into her dish! I had to hold her for a few minutes to calm her down. It's a little unnerving, but I'm sure she's fine, so I don't worry too much, really. Her little heart can just beat so fast, it seems! Sweet puppy...

So the Humana thing. Yeah, I need to reapply for insurance, right, so I suck it up, deal with the fact that they will likely consider me "obese" again and require me to pay a higher premium because of it. Only this time, they didn't send me any obesity clause paperwork to sign. No. THIS time, they have sent me a link to a form that acknowledges my acceptance for an AIDS test they want me to take.

Um, W. T. F???? I'm very confused. I didn't have to sign a form like this last time, and they keep saying that I'M the one that needs to go receive the test and submit it to THEM. In all-caps like that. I swear. It's the weirdest thing. Why do I need to get this test? Was there a flag in my paperwork that they didn't catch the last time I applied? Are they just big pains in the ass that are trying to find a way to not have to provide insurance to someone that is healthy in every respect, save the occassional UTI I've had over the past couple of years?

OMG. I wonder if that's the issue. I wonder if, because NOTHING else has popped up on their radar to check on me, they have decided instead to focus on the one thing they can focus on...namely, the fact that I've had 1 UTI in the past 2 years, and 2 years ago, I had a "fun" girlie issue pop up during one of my annual visits to the gyno. (Apparently, I had an infection that I was completely unaware of, but that their tests caught. I thought that it was a scam to get more money from me overall...I felt nothing, and noticed no symptoms, and yet I was required to take an antibiotic in order to get rid of the problem. Hmm...) Perhaps somehow, this UTI and the little weird infection that I had (which is a very common infection, according to my gyno) is causing me this problem with getting insurance now.

I don't understand this sort of shit. You'd think that insurance companies would LOVE someone like me! Let's see...I pay them a premium of about $180 a month in order to be covered for medical problems that never occur, and so I can visit my doctor (which is a total cost of about $180 per YEAR) annually to be tested for weird, random infections, and to make sure that everything is happy in my ovaries and uterus. So that means that Humana will be collecting $2,160 from me, and paying out a total of about half that amount to cover my one doctor visit and the prescription I need in order to avoid them incurring loads more costs in relation to giving birth.

Insurance companies suck.

Ok, I need to go find some caffeine to supplement my lack of sunlight issue. More later, maybe. If I can wake up at all...