Wednesday, May 31, 2006

The Dresses!

So, The Dresses. I'm a curvy girl, and definitely a plus-size. I'm not afraid of it, and I have to work pretty hard just to keep from gaining 5 pounds a week on an average basis. Whatever, it's who I am, and I don't mind it...much. Apparently, Target has a different idea of how us big girls should look, as I prove with my photos below. (Oh, and if anyone wants to nominate me for What Not To Wear based on any of these photos, you go right ahead. I could use some fashion advice and $5,000 to spend on new clothes in New York, dammit.)

Ok, so I started out with an example of what I look like day to day. This is how I dress, as I am not afraid of my curves, and prefer wearing clothes that show them off rather than billow around them, more often than not. (Not sure what the orb is doing there on the left side of my body in the picture...whatev. Probly my mother making fun of me for taking pics of myself to post on the internet.) This outfit is mostly Urban Outfitters fare. The skirt was from last year, and the little top I'm wearing over the tank is something I picked up for about $5 on sale at the end of winter. Lovely.

And THIS is my new dress from Torrid that I like a great deal. I'll probably wear it this weekend at the Prairie Village Art Fair. Woo!

Ok, here is the least favorite of the Target dresses I bought. See? It looks like a sack, the neckline looks like shit, and I hate where the hem hits my legs. Just bleh. Bleh, bleh, BLEH!

And this is the other Target dress. I like the neckline a lot on this one, but everything below that looks pretty crappy and huge. Not my idea of flatering at. all.


So there you have it. I may be big, but I still like to look like I care about my appearance, dammit. So we'll have to see what happens with the new dresses that come in from Target this week. Maybe there'll be another photo-posting extravaganza on Friday, or something. Damn, I am a fun blogger...

I. Hate. Heat.

I swear, I just got bit by something while I was standing outside, on a sidewalk, next to a brick building, which is on a paved street, NO WHERE NEAR ANY GRASS...and that just ain't right, dammit. I'm tired of being The One the Bugs Want to Chew On.

So, I have decided that humiliating pictures of The Dresses will be forthcoming this evening. People just need to see what I'm talking about, it seems. I'll also post a pic of me in the cute dress from Torrid...the one with the drop-waist that made me feel that ordering more drop-waist dresses might be a good choice for me, since Cheri warned about the drop-waist dress I ordered from Target yesterday, and all. I don't know if the fabric type will make a difference, but we'll see. My waist isn't so much a problem as my boobs are. I'm pretty proportionate outside of those bazookas, so I'm not afraid to show off the curves, as long as the dress I'm doing it in is a cute one. :)

Have been waiting with baited breath each day for an updated post about the current move that BI (a.k.a. Belligerent Intellectual, a.k.a. "Dan") is making over at The Daily Dump. This boy cracks me up daily, and if you haven't checked him out yet, then please head over and enjoy. I have read all of his archives, even, and they are well worth the time spent doing so. Funny, funny boy. Anyway, he just moved in with his girlfriend - again - and he's been talking about the moving experience for a little over a week now, I think. This got me thinking about some of my own fave moving experiences, and I figured it might be interesting to some to read about them. Wanna hear it? Here it goes...

I've moved a total of 10 times since 1996, and so I have a bit of experience in the area of boxes, rental trucks, movers, cross-country moves, in-state moves, down-the-street moves, and everything in between. By far, the stupidest move I ever did was the one from Overland Park back to California in 1997. My mother had been diagnosed with liver cancer, and I decided that moving home to be with her and the family while she was still with us was a good idea. And it was! Don't get me wrong. But saving the packing for the night before the move, which was Halloween night and my brother was in town (to help me drive back to Cali) and we had a party to go to in Lawrence, KS, and we planned on leaving said party by 10 p.m. because we had to start driving the next day but we didn't actually leave the party until oh, about midnight or so, and then we got up in the morning and brother realized what a twit I'd been about packing and so we furiously started throwing everything into boxes as best we could, and wound up throwing a TON of shit away instead of packing it up for the drive home...? Yeah. Worst. Move. EVER! The movers arrived at about 10 a.m. and moved all the big stuff (bed, couches, etc...) as brother and I packed up the last of the boxes as best we could. He and I had been awake since about 7, so we were really feeling shitty. I felt so bad for him. But he was a trooper!! He really helped me pull it together for that move. If he hadn't been there, it would've been a huge mess.

And when I finally found an apartment in Cali when I got back home, I was able to call my stuff out of storage, and my friend came over to help me move it from San Juan (where my dad's house is) to Oceanside, where I had found what I thought was the perfect place at the time. (Turned out to be a hellmouth, but that's a different story for a different time.) I had 3 couches at the time...all inherited from the older sister that had left Kansas City before me, and all pretty much given to me by her and her hubby since they had long since moved past the need for them in their home. And I had rented an apartment on the second floor in Oceanside. By the time the friend and I had unloaded all of my other stuff, we moved one couch up the stairs, and I thought I was going to die. I seriously don't know how I got that thing up there at all, to be honest. so as we sat in the darkening parking lot outside my "lovely" new apartment, we discussed whether or not I could build up the strength to help with the other two couches. My friend is a strong guy...very strong. He's a personal trainer with huge arms and legs so big he has to have pants specially tailored to fit him. He's also about 6'5", as I recall. Anyway, he could technically do a good job of moving one of those couches by himself, if necessary, and if he hadn't already helped me move 400 pounds of other stuff up those stairs. But TWO more couches? Not doable. Fortunately for us, I'm a ballsy kind o' girl, and there happened to be two no-good-before-they-met-me teenage-type kids wandering by at the time we were both about to burst into tears over the subject. I paid them both $20, they helped move the 2 couches up the stairs, and voila! The move was done!

That was the worst...by far.

All the other moves were pretty run of the mill, except for the move from Boston back to Kansas, which was the first time my stuff was measured by square inch as opposed to by weight, and suddenly, I had the most expensive move EVER for the least amount of stuff I'd ever moved. They also managed to forget to load my stuff on a truck two weeks after I moved to Kansas, so when I was ready to move into my apartment and out of the hotel I'd been living in, I didn't have anything to move in with, unfortunately. So I went to Target, bought paper plates, a blow-up mattress and a big comforter, a coffee table (needed a new one anyway) and a folding chair that eventually moved out to my little deck, and waited 3 more weeks for my stuff to arrive. They refunded $600 to me for their mistake, and even though I was still pretty fucking pissed about the whole thing, it wasn't the worst move, I s'pose.

Now, the move TO Boston...that was a dilly. I didn't even have a place to move to until about 3 days prior to leaving. My moving company only knew to head to Boston, and then I'd call them with the actual address once my stuff was in transit. The main problem? I owned a cat. Also? Apartment owners in Boston are assholes. No one would rent to me "sight unseen", even though I simply didn't have any choice in the matter! Also, I was moving in to go to school...so every apartment in Boston was going to be filled with new people/old people who go to school there. (Something like 40% of the population in Boston is made up of students, as I understand it...) They already had people right in their faces, who's hands they could shake and who's checks were right where they could touch them, and they didn't need to even consider renting to a chick from California that they'd never get to meet until a few days before she actually moved in, for cryin' out loud! One landlord actually hung up on me after I said, "Hi, I'm moving there from California in 3 days..." *click* That was that, it seemed.

I remember my first day at my "apartment" in Boston, when I met my roommates, and then spent much of the day (after seeing the disgusting, dirty, foul "apartment" we had agreed to rent as-is from the landlord, we were so desperate to have a place to move to) sitting on the stoop watching the migration that happens in that city when students move from apartment to apartment. I lived on a one-way street (Symphony, for anyone who knows the area), and any number of parents were pulling SUV's into spots that weren't really parking spots, and unloading All the Crap in the World into small tenement apartments that lined both sides of the small street. My favorite method of move were the kids that had placed a full-sized mattress on top of a couple of things that rolled (skateboards, I think, but I can't remember if it was one of those pallets that have wheels), and then they had stacked EVERYTHING THEY OWNED on top of the mattress, and they rolled it down the block to their new apartment from their old one, which was around the corner and I don't know how far down the block from there. Very nice.

Anyway, moves have always been a fun challenge for me, really. I actually kept the boxes I moved with under my bed for years, until I finally moved into my house a couple of years ago. Once in a while, one or two of the boxes would become too tattered to use, and I'd have to go get brand new boxes to replace them. That always sucked. (Boxes are expensive!) But for the most part, the same boxes were used for all 10 of those moves, I swear. Awesome, eh? :)

So if anyone ever needs any advice about moving, I'm your gal. I haven't done it in a couple of years, but I'm sure it's just like riding a bike, right? Thank GOD I'm done with cross-country moves for a while, though. In-city moves are sooo much easier, I think.

And now I need to go to the bathroom. Dammit, it just comes out of nowhere, I swear! Excuse me, please...

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Some updates...

Maine's post reminded me of something that's been (mildly) bothering me throughout the weekend. That commercial for Toyota? The one where the people who supposedly built the cars are standing around clapping as the new vehicles are rolled out of the factory towards their new car lot destinations? Yeah, those people didn't build those cars. No fucking way. I don't know if Toyota thinks we're all idiots, or what, but I think we all know that people who build the cars (a) could give a flying shit when they roll out of the factory and (b) aren't that pretty. C'mon now! Sheesh.

And if the car-builders of Toyota ARE actually relatively good looking folks and are retarded enough to stand around and clap as the newly built cars roll out of the factory, and I've got that wrong, then by all means, let me know and I'll retract my comments.

Secondly, I was reminded due to some stuff Maine said to me in an e-mail to tell everyone that the dresses I ordered from Target came last week, and they were a bit of a disappointment overall. I might take pictures of myself in two of them, so you can see what I'm talking about, but maybe not, as the boyfriend will be home tonight, and I don't want to embarass myself by putting the dresses on in front of him and all, but we'll see. I could do it tomorrow night, too, since my hair might look better then anyway, and you all really need to see what I'm talking about so yeah, maybe I'll just do that. This one looks awesome on me, and I fully agree with the ratings it's received from other people who've purchased it. This one has been tough to figure out - I like it on top...the neck line is really nice. But the rest of it...bleh! I just don't like it overall. And this one? Don't even ask. Horrible! Terrible! Looks like shit. It's as though they dropped the hem on it all together thinking that if we're as fat as all that, then our tummy will protrude enough to pick the hem up a bit and make it knee length, like it shows as being in the picture on the website. Nuh-uh. It's just long and matronly and really very unattractive. I'm gonna return the last two, and I'm getting a couple of other ones (this one and this one) instead. It seems that dropped waist stuff fits me better than I realized (I bought this one from Torrid last week, and it's very cute on me...shows a bit more cleavage than I probably care to do much of the time, but I'm working that out through some minor alterations...), and pulling in the fabric at the waist, like it does in that one dress that's all "goddessy" and everything really helps with the potato sack issue, I think.

Anyway, I'm having fun shopping for dresses. And it helps that if they don't work, I can print out a receipt and just take them back to the store that's down the street from my house and all.

But it's just getting obnoxious trying to find new dresses that will make my size 18 body look cute. Very tiresome.

Betcha all can't wait for photographic evidence of this shit, eh? Yeah. Woo!

It's a Tuesday, but it FEELS like a Monday...

I'm tired. And I didn't get to curl my hair this morning because the dog decided to shit inside the house - again. And I had to wake up the boyfriend - twice - and eat breakfast, get dressed, put make-up on, and find snacks to eat today - fuck lunch, I'll just have to pick something up I guess.

But something tells me that the coworker and I will be wanting to get out at least a couple of times throughout the day...we have two new administrative people starting today - one is an intern (and is dressed the part of "intern slut," complete with 4 inch heels (not kidding, wish I were) and a skirt so short, I hope she remembers not to bend over more than 40 degrees at the waist throughout the day). The other chick is cool. I think we'll like her. But she's taking over the workstation my coworker has been sitting at for the past 2 and a half years, and so now coworker is in an office next to my space, which is nice, but it's kind of weird that she had to move for this new chick, who is making more than us, and apparently will be helping to do specific things that coworker used to do for these two guys that sit down by where her old workstation is at. It's politically "off" IMO, but it hasn't effected me so much, so I've tried to stay out of it and am happy to listen to coworker vent when she needs to about the situation. I totally understand her position...it's a weird sitch, and I don't blame her for feeling put out, etc...

Tonight is yoga, though. God bless yoga and the peace it brings me inside my belly and my brain. And I get to roll out my pretty pink yoga mat again, which is nice. I'm really looking forward to it.

The boyfriend has reached exhaustion point, it seems. He worked Wednesday through Monday this past week, had a manager meeting this morning at 8, after which he can go home and rest for the next few hours, and then we can spend about 3 hours together tonight before I'll need to crash out myself, and then the whole things starts all over again for him tomorrow. Next Monday, he doesn't have to work, though. So that's good. Poor guy. I don't think people understand how very hard he works these days. It's hard to describe, so maybe that's what makes it hard to understand. I dunno. He keeps getting yelled at by his bosses to change his management style, and while one week they want him to let up on people because he's chasing off long-term employees with his demands that they actually work, the next week they yell at him for not being hard enough on people, and for being too much of a doormat. Wha..? Um, make up your fucking minds much? Dicks.

So life is swimming along right now in the only way it can. Sort of a bit of sadness here and there, sort of a bit of excitement when I get to see my honey, a bit of peevedness and irritation thrown in for good measure when dealing with the puppy...you get the idea. So today feels like a Monday. But it did rain yesterday, so less work had to be done in the yard, which was nice. My weeekend was pretty good considering. And now I gotta go, because things are blowing up around the office...bah!

Friday, May 26, 2006

Just going through the motions...

My eyes are FREAKING OUT today. Twitching and stinging and sensitive to light...it's not nice. I don't know how to appease them. Take allergy meds? Take out my contacts? Do both? I think I just might do that in a few minutes, here...

Free lunch today from PF Chang's, which is fabulous.

The sudden summer-like heat we've been experiencing has released all the nasty bugs that like to chew on me when I step out doors, so now my legs and feet (and one shoulder) are covered in bites. It's my favorite time of year.

Ok, not really. You got me there.

The fridge at work today was officially past plain ol' nasty status and had moved on to able-to-support-small-colonies-of-aliens status. I've been bothering the admin staff at the front of the office (who are supposed to be responsible for regular clean-out of the fridge) for the past 3 weeks about this, and thought I had tracked down the problem items last Friday. We got rid of them, but the fridge still smelled gross all this week. Today, I took a moment to review the top shelf of the fridge to see what was there. And sure enough, I found the culprit. One of the coworkers down the hall is on that "Success Meal" program, so she brings little boxes of food for her meals through the day every day and stashes them in the fridge. Underneath a bag of carrots that had been in the fridge since the colonization of Jamestown (and yes, they got thrown out) was a boxed success meal that hadn't been so successful, it seems. It was from 4/22 (they all have little labels on them that give the date they're for, who they're for, and what's in them...), so that means that my coworker had failed to eat said meal over a MONTH AGO, and left it sitting in the fridge to rot.

Gross.

So I threw that out, along with a bag of leftovers from PF Chang's that had been in there for last week, and then made the offer to our office HR person that I would be happy to become the known "Fridge Nazi" in the office, if she so desired. She said that'd be great, we're putting up a sign on the fridge (a laminated sign no less) that says it will be cleaned out every Friday, and then before I leave at the end of every week, we're tossing everything that's in there, besides the sodas the company provides for us all, as well as things like yogurts and someone's bag of granola which doesn't seem to be contributing to the problem. (I'm gonna check the expiration dates periodically on the yogurts and cream cheese containers, and throw them out accordingly.)

And now my plan for total domination of the refrigerator is complete. Mwahahahahahahahaha!!!

That's as exciting as it gets. I'm looking forward to the long weekend. Even though it's gonna be hotter than a muthafucker here, dammit. I plan on spending half the time in my back yard doing some work, and the other half in my pool, a.k.a. my bathtub. Because that's how sad I am...

Y'all enjoy yourselves, too. Hope you have a real pool you can hang out in!

Thursday, May 25, 2006

Sometimes, I think I'm bigger than the sound...

I went home at lunch to let the puppy loose for a bit, chose to park in my garage as they weren't working on the street at. all. (yes, it's still unfinished - don't ask), and then proceded to get tarred-in just before I headed out to go back to the office. I didn't know if I could drive on the stuff that they'd laid down or not, so I had to call a supervisor on the project and wait for someone to come help me. Good thing I did, too. Apparently, they're pouring the rest of the street today (they'd only poured a base product up till now, and were supposed to pour the actual street yesterday, but apparently never got around to it), and it's so warm that we won't be able to drive on it until tomorrow morning, I've been advised. "It'll be too mushy," were the exact words of the burley, manly, construction dude that came by to help me get out of my driveway.

Ok, this would all be fine if they hadn't already told us that they were pouring the street YESTERDAY, and that it would be ok to drive on again by 5:30 p.m. last night. I got home last night and realized that they hadn't gotten around to it yet (the 2-inch sharp curb that surrounded our street on the block gave me the clue), so I expected that they'd get to it today or tomorrow, but I didn't expect that I wouldn't be able to drive on it until tomorrow morning!

My car has been pelted with shit by some of the meanest (and apparently un-well) birds in the world over the past 3 weeks. I've never parked that car outside of a garage for longer than 4 or 5 days, and I feel like I've been the worst car-mom ever since it hasn't had any protection from disgusting bird crap, dust and dirt, condensation which then makes the dust and dirt even MORE lovely to look at after it has pooled up and then dried in the hot spring (but-feels-like-summer) sunshine for over 3 weeks now. So yesterday, my exercise after work was to wash my sweet baby in my brand spanking new driveway. And I enjoyed the hell out of it. My car looked lovely again, I got all the bird shit off of it and cleaned the wheels and the tailpipe and the grill and the top of the car, and then let it dry in the sun while I watched Izzy get used to the neighbor kids that had gathered to pet her. It was great. I felt so happy and tired and good about being able to drive around in a clean car again!

After all of that up and down emotion of dealing with a dirty car vs. a clean one for so long, you can imagine my dismay upon hearing the news that I would be required to park my car outside, UNDER TREES!, for one more night. Hell, there isn't even a tree that I park under in front of my house, and the fucking birds STILL manage to get their nasty-ass poop on it somehow (evil fly-bys, I'm sure), so if I have to park under a veritable forest of trees tonight, how the hell will it escape being shit upon in monumental quantities, I ask you?

I'm puh-issed about this, to say the least. And I actually think it isn't all that hot outside today since there is quite a breeze blowing about and keeping it way less-humid than it has been, so perhaps the "mushiness" expected by big, burly construction guy might not manifest itself, is what I hope, I hope, I hope. PLEEAASE let it be non-mushy!! I beg of the asphalt gods to answer my prayer!!

Didn't know there were asphalt gods, didja? Yep. There are. (There are ATM gods, too. I just don't have to invoke their power through prayer to them as often as I did when I was in college, is all.)

Ok, I need to go deal with things in the bathroom now. I'm all kinds of upset about this parking outside thing. Seriously...

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

I thought I felt a little different today...

I was just congratulated by my savings account for starting my account and keeping it for two years as of today, the 24th, with their company. And why wouldn't I? It's ING Direct...it's like I get free money every month, dammit. That's my kind of deal. (Run over and start an account if you don't already have one, seriously...the interest rate is up to 4.15% at this point, and it started at 3% when I opened my account 2 years ago. It only goes higher as more people join up. So go...open an account...put all your money in it. Thank me later.)

Today is also my 2nd anniversary of my blog. (Boy, obviously May 24th, 2004 wasn't a very busy one for me at my last job, eh? Seems I was busy doing just about anything but working that day!) So happy anniversary to me and my writing skeeills. This is where it all started, and I can't be happier that things have come as far as they have since then. My life was a mess with work and a man and all the other things that came in between. I had to get the feelings out, and thank goodness the blog was able to help me do just that. I'm kind of regretting the fact that I went through a period in those early months where I deleted things to try to smooth things over that weren't smoothable in the least sense of the word, because I said a lot of stuff that was meaningful to me, as I recall, and I wish I still had it to reflect upon now and then. I don't delete posts any more these days. It's gotten me into a sort of uncomfy place with my family, but I'm hoping that only one of them reads this anymore anyway, and that eventually the others will come to understand me and our relationship outside of this blog.

No matter what, I've always stayed true to myself (except for deleting those posts, dammit), and I've been honest about the people I know, the poops I've taken, the relationships I've had, and the stories I've loved to tell. Thanks to those of you that have remained a part of it all this time. Thanks to those of you that are a part of my blogroll as well...without half of you, I wouldn't have been inspired/comfortable with the idea of this here bloggy thing. Thanks to those of you that continue to inspire me to try to reach past being the boring bitch I can be sometimes. I'm still working on my style, and I know it varies from day to day. So bear with me as I continue to morph into the ultimate blogger I hope to be someday.

No matter what, you can always count on me to provide you with at least one update to the inner workings of my difficult bowel or the interesting smell of my piss about once a month. And you can always count on a story or two about the puppy being cute/a pain in the ass now and again throughout the month. And I will definitely keep everyone in the loop as to what develops between me and the boyfriend over time. Whether you like it or not. :P

Date night, babay...

Went on a date with the boyfriend last night…it was a nice one, and we really needed the time together, so I’m glad we did it. We went to a restaurant we’ve been wanting to try called 1924 Main in downtown KC. Very cool little place…the chef is the owner as I understand it, and I was interested in seeing how the place worked. The boyfriend needs to look into options for places to work besides corporations like the one he works for now, and I think getting out to different little restaurants to compare on contrast will be helpful. Cheesecake Factory would be an option, as even though we’ve heard the hours are horrendous, they pay even just the assistant chefs really well. The boyfriend is currently working horrendous hours for crap pay, so moving into a job with horrendous hours for a minimum of $45,000 a year would be quite a jump.

My fave part about his new restaurant they’ve put him at? His kitchen isn’t air conditioned…it got up to 110 degrees in there on Sunday this past week. They don’t even have a fan to circulate the air, for chrissakes. So not only is he working anywhere from 65 – 70 hours a week, but he’s doing so in a 15 year old kitchen with horrible floors, walls with paneling that is falling down, and no fucking air conditioning. He needs to get the fuck out of that company, and how. Last week, I saw him for a total of about 8 hours. And most of those were late at night when he’d woken me up after getting home from work so we could chat about our days and catch up with one another. We knew it would be like this when he switched to a place where he ran the kitchen on his own, but it’s just not right. The company won’t give him more money because of the fact that ONE asshole that "has worked for them for a long time" (yeah, and the boyfriend hasn’t, or anything…dickheads) decided to quit his job there because of the boyfriend, he said. Um, yeah, so you get a new manager that comes in and actually wants you to WORK instead of standing around with your thumb up your ass most of the time, and you get pissed and decide to go somewhere else, and the management sides with the asshole? Because he’d been with the company for a long while? The guy wasn’t even showing up for shifts when the boyfriend was working…and that’s an employee you want to keep? GOD they’re idiots there! They told the boyfriend that he needs to "lead by example" which I fully agree with…if you want people to spread their talents out and sometimes help out in the pizza station when they've actually been assigned to the saute station that night, then you can’t very well complain about having to do dishes because your dishwasher didn’t show up. But I think the management also needs to stand behind their hard-working, loyal and talented management teams in the kitchen as well. And not the sniveling, asshole, bitchy guys that make boyfriend’s work-life a living hell when they can. That’s just not right.

Anyway, we miss each other. And when we have time together, we really value it. Because it’s few and far between these days, seriously.

I told him last night that I’d like to get married in a year and a half. He said, "Why then?" Because it’ll be October. "What’s so great about October?" I dunno, I just like the month, is all…
He said, "How about 2 and a half years? Or 3 and a half years? Or 5 and a half years?" I said, "We can wait as long as you want, actually, but sometime in a the next 2 years, I want a party where people give us gifts and we give them free food and alcohol in return and then we go on a trip by ourselves for about a week to celebrate our love for one another." I want the presents dammit…I need a new blender.

I like to bring marriage up every now and then. I like to get him talking about it. It makes no sense to me that just a few short years ago, he was as prepared as anything to marry and live with a girl that was apparently a complete asshat. I know he was younger then, and he probably thought that whatever she was giving him was what love is, but really, why do girls like that get proposed to, and I get hung out to dry for "5 and a half years". He talked again about how when we get married I’ll "own" him, and I don’t get it when he talks like that. I can see where there is always a certain dominant in each relationship, and I’m likely that in ours, but I’ve never seen any union between two people as being one "owning" the other. That’s sickening. I think maybe his parents are kind of like that, though. His dad "owns" his mother. So that might be it…but it works for them. It appears to work for them, anyway. She doesn’t mind it – she’s still her own person but lives her life according to his rules he’s set up, I think. If that makes her happy, then so be it. I like things to be a bit more even-steven in a relationship. I want the boyfriend to be as comfortable telling me he’s in a crappy mood and letting me have the brunt of it as I am. And he doesn’t even need PMS to blame it on, as I do much of the time. I want him to be as excited to see me at the end of the day as I am to see him. I mean, even when I’m in a shitty mood, I STILL get excited about seeing him. I love that feeling. I know he feels it, too, and that’s what makes me so happy a lot of the time, but he’s still a boy. Boys are different about these things than girls, in my experience, and he’s very "boy" about it. He’s just so quiet and selective about when he lets that sort of emotion eek out of himself. Usually, it’s late at night, after he’s had a lo-hooooong day, and I can tell he’s very tired, but that thinking of me might’ve been what kept him going through the toughest part of it.

Anyway, it was a good night last night. Dinner was yummy (even though the steak boyfriend ordered had to be sent back as it was originally done medium well rather than medium rare – the chef took it off the bill, which was awesome of him…), the chef even helped me with my dairy constraints and served me a desert that was modified and still wonderful, and the server (I wish I’d asked her name! For some reason, I never did…) was a really cool chick. In fact, all of the people that were there last night seemed really cool. This other server came up and took my dinner plate away, and as he did he told me that when I came in, he thought I was a really good friend of his and he came very close to running up and hugging me until I turned around and he saw that I wasn’t, in fact, his friend. I said, "It’s the red hair, isn’t it?" People are always thinking I’m their red-headed friend, since us red-heads can be kind of few and far-between now and then. He said it was the red hair. It was really funny for him to tell me that, I thought. I love it when people tell me random shit like that. After dinner, we stopped and grabbed some port (I had picked what wound up being a very dry red for with dinner, and while it was wonderful, I thought that I would offer to balance out the evening by buying a bottle of port for the boyfriend, since he loves the sweet wines), and then went home and watched "The Family Stone" as it had come in the mail yesterday from Netflix. Perfect evening. OH! And I got to go home early yesterday and I got a bunch of yardwork done that I’ve been needing to do. So that made it an even better day. Although, I did get shit on by a bird when I was at lunch with coworkers. And they wanted to sit outside in the oppressively sticky 85 degree heat while we ate, and I got super-sweaty which wasn’t pleasant, but oh well. I had a beer and a yummy chicken breast, and the bird shit thing just made us all laugh really hard, so it wound up being ok. Laughing really hard over a beer at lunch on an unexpectedly short day is always a good thing in the early part of the week…

Besides, being shit on by a bird is supposed to be good luck, right? Which means that right now, my car is really, really, REALLY lucky. That’s nice.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Ready, ready, ready, ready, ready, ready to run!

I’m the only one in my part of the office this morning so far…it’s wonderfully quiet back here. I miss the days of me being the only one in the office for a good portion of the morning every day. I was able to get so much done, and wind down from the drive in, and slowly wake up and realize the day ahead of me. It was great.

Ok, on to real stuff…

Is it me, or does it appear as though the Dixie Chicks have been living in hell*,or some sort of vampire hideout for the past few years since they disappeared from the music scene? I could give a flying shit about them and their music, but as of yesterday, they are all over the fucking place, and they’re starting to scare me with the way they look. Just to warn you, the link takes you to a page where you will be offered the opportunity to download their music "now". Let me assure you that I am in no way endorsing their music, or trying to encourage anyone to listen to/buy it. Huh-uh. They scare me, that is the only point I’m trying to make here…(And in case anyone is wondering why I used a quote from one of their songs for the title of this post, it's because I had to learn the back-up part for it when I went to school for music in Boston in 1999. So, yeah. I know the back-up to "Ready to Run", ok? I also know the back-up for "Shower the People" by James Taylor, and the back-up AND the lead part for "Son of a Preacher Man", so shut it. It was for school, dammit. And I stand by my ability to sing back-up and lead for "Son of a Preacher Man". That's just cool, IMO.)

*Just so everyone knows, I have further proof that they are, indeed, evil. I've tried linking to pictures of them from 2 different sources so far, and neither one of the links would work. So go out and find your own pics of them. They're everywhere anyway, so if you haven't seen it for yourself already, then you live under a rock and I can't help you.

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Courtesy of The Superficial , I am able to easily keep up with all of the Britney Spears activity going on from day to day. Here’s what happened last week, in case you hadn’t seen it yet. Apparently, Britney tripped while walking , and was holding her baby in one arm and carrying a drink of some sort in her other hand. We all know how uncomfortable a trip can be, and I can only imagine how much worse it would be if I were being photographed, particularly in the outfit Brit was wearing that certain day, and had already been accused of not being a good mother several times prior to the trip in the middle of the street. But unfortunately, her fabulous motherly instincts did not help her protect her baby during this tripping event. In her effort to hold on to both the drink and the baby, she allowed the baby’s head to snap wildly off to the side, and it even lost its little hat in the process. Some random guy that’s been following her around lately was behind her, and can be seen reaching out to assist Britney with not dropping her baby. Again. I don’t know if he’s been assigned to follow her about and help take care of her baby by the CPS, or if Britney hired him herself in order to assist her whenever her motherly "shortcomings" rear their ugly head in public, but it’s a good thing he’s around, no? I think he kinda needs to lose the pervy moustache, though. That only makes him look all child molesterish and all.

Anyway, after the trip incident, Britney got all sad, and ducked into some random coffee shop and had a little breakdown. I’m grateful for the fact that this was caught on film only because it gives the world the proper opportunity to see how a new mom, who is expecting her second baby no less, should be dressed when heading out for a day on the town with her 8 month old kid.

And I worry about flashing a bra strap now and then. Pshaw!!

********************************

Now, here’s an interesting story from the great "Show Me" state of Missourah…did you know that 15 whole hospitals across the state are now tobacco free? Yep…and the latest one is right in a suburb of this fabu city I live and work in.

Damn. I’m really gonna miss the whiff of smoke mixed with that familiar hospital smell the next time I have the opportunity to walk into a hospital on the Missouri side. It used to be such a comfort, you know?

*********************************

Last night, I went to Target in order to look for new shoes, see the dresses they have right now, and to pick up a microdermabrasion kit and some tin foil. Because that’s what Target is for, dammit. Ok, so my skin has been looking a little bit worse than shit lately, so the microdermabrasion thing was a MUST regardless of how much it cost. The one from Oil of Olay was on sale for only $22. The Neutrogena one was $33, but it had a cool vibrating tool thing that came with it (shut up), so I picked that one up…I mean, who wants to massage stuff into their face with their fingers when they can have a vibrating tool do it for them? Yeah!

So I used this microdermabrasion thingy last night, and it is wonderful! My skin already feels like new, and it’s only been one treatment! I’m really hoping it’ll help me like my face again, because it sucks to look in the mirror/at pictures and wonder just how people can stand to look at you day to day.

They also have a microdermabrasion kit for the body, by the way. With a massage tool and everything. It might be worth it to look into that, too, at some point. (Shut up again! Sheesh!)

Anyway, so then I moved on to the clothing area, and quickly realized that I probly need to visit a SuperTarget or just go online to buy their dresses, since the Target Greatland I was in had literally nothing cute there. So on to the shoes I went.

And I bought these.

And these. Which I am wearing today, and lemme tell you, I am NOT used to such "girlie" shoes. Teeny heel, and a narrow platform to stand on…it’s like I’m having to learn to walk all over again! But I feel very cute, and the shoes ARE cute and really rather comfy too, but I’m just a wimp about walking on a kitten heel, I guess. I never have been good at walking in narrow heels.

Ok, and I just ordered 3 dresses online that look like they’ll be wonderful for the office, or for the weddings I’m going to this summer, or whatever. And they had free shipping on them since I ordered over $50 worth of stuff! And if they don’t work, I’m sure I can return them to the store, or whatever.

God I love shopping…

Ok, I’d better get to work. It’s still very quiet here, which is nice, but I do have things I need to do, so no more slacking…Really. No, I mean it. Shut UP!

Monday, May 22, 2006

Yep, it's a Monday, alright...

I'm not in the mood. Someone drove on my driveway at some point during the 6 hours I was out of the house Saturday afternoon. But here's the kicker: there isn't any way to get IN the driveway without driving up a fucking 5 inch curb, since the street hasn't been paved yet! So not only did this dipshit drive on my pristine, lovely, fabulously smooth and virginal driveway before I even got to do so, but they chipped away a big piece of the curb when they decided to hike the fucking thing, so now I have the imperfection in front of my house. Awesome. I've called the paving company to tell them what happened, and to see if there's anything they can do about it, but I doubt they will.

Also, when I got back from the grocery store yesterday afternoon, there was a bird sitting on a stick that was sticking out of my gutter above my garage door. This made me look closely at the weird discoloration on the roof above the garage, which makes me worry even more about expensive things on my house that might be needing replacement. And then I noticed that the gutter itself looked odd. It looked...bent in one spot. Sure enough, as I unloaded my groceries, I noticed that the gutter is so bent, it can't possibly serve it's function as a gutter if it remains in this condition. Now, I don't have a vehicle that reaches that high on my house. Neither does the boyfriend. Hmm...what could have reached that high and damaged my fucking house? A tractor, perhaps? Yes, that would make sense! Since there was a tractor in my driveway last week, and Lord knows what they used to pour the concrete into the driveway.

The curious thing? The construction/paving company that's doing all the work hasn't said a thing to me about the damage they did, and/or fixing it for me. Did they think I wouldn't notice they put a huge dent into my fucking house? Did they think that since I'm just a fucking girl homeowner that they could try to take advantage of me yet again? Aw, hell no.

I have to go do some work for a team of people that annoy me, so I'd better get going. But I just thought I'd say I'm tired of this shit. Tired of it, tired of it, tired of it. And I'm out of money. And if my house starts to fall apart now, particularly if I need to replace my roof which is less than 10 years old, I don't know what I'll do. Part of me wants to move back into the apartment life (do you know how much money I'd have saved up right now if I hadn't bought a house 2 and a half years ago? DO YOU??? Let's see, that would be A SHIT TON!!! That's right! I'd have a shit ton of cash in savings, and I'd be very happy with it, I'm sure...), and part of me wants to just be sure that the next place I buy is newer and nicer and doesn't have holes in sewer pipes or a huge lawn to maintain or a roof that might be falling apart just 6 years after it's been put on. I love the community I live in...I love my neighbors that surround me. I just cannot stand worrying about every yellow stain on my ceiling, or every glugging sound the sink makes when I do laundry or worrying about when I'm going to have to call the plumber out next, or how much the handyman will charge me for the fixes I need him to do in June, or paying for the paint I want to use to re-paint my living room, and don't even get me started on the floors that would require replacing before I could even consider selling the place.

Again, I'm not in the mood. That is all.

Friday, May 19, 2006

Peace and quiet...

The day was a hectic one, barely had any time for anything other than work until about 10 minutes ago, and now I'm so wiped, the work I could do in the remaining minutes of the day will be waiting until Monday morning, thankyouverymuch.

A bunch of my coworkers have a conference to go to in the early part of thie next week...they've known about their plans for quite some time, and they were told in a meeting we had on Monday this week that if they needed help with pulling materials together, they needed to ask us admins sooner rather than later.

Only one person asked me for help with gathering info. One. And it's a good thing, too, because she had a shit-ton of info she needed help with! Some of those mappy things that I've gotten pretty good at over the past couple weeks, and some other things she needed printed and put together. I finished it all this morning, with time to tweak the maps if they weren't right (only one needed tweaking, so go me!), and I was feeling pretty good about the day at that point.

And then another coworker came and asked me for help putting a marketing book together at about 10:45. Sure, I said. I just need to finish other coworker's stuff, and then I can get to that. I printed his materials out on a machine that has been less than friendly this week (and we found out the reason why when we finally had a tech come check it this afternoon - there was a paperclip in the paper feed. A fucking paperclip!!! CHRIST!), and by then I was pretty damned hungry, so my fellow admin coworker and I went to go grab sammiches at Planet Sub up the street. As I finished my sammich, I trolled about through the funnies online for a bit of downtime I felt I deserved, and the coworker that asked me to put his books together came by to see how much longer it was going to be before they were done.

DUDE! You just gave me the stuff 2 and a half hours ago, and I've had other things I needed to finish first! Not only do I need to print the materials, but then I need to create fucking TABS for the books, and then piece it all together properly, AND I had to create a cover sheet as well. I'm eating lunch right now so I don't pass out and drool all over the fucking materials before I have a chance to bind them later, ok? FUCK. OFF.

That was what I wanted to say, of course. Instead, I just told him it wouldn't be long. I had them all done, as I had predicted earlier in the day, by 2:30. Not a bad turn around for 8 books that needed to have tabs and get bound, IMO.

Anyway, I don't understand asshats like this. The ones that know they need stuff done, and they wait until the very last minute to get it done, and then they hover like a goddam annoying fly waiting for me to finish the shit up...bugs me to no end.

So that's what I've been doing today. And now I'll be going home, buying some beer, and hanging out with the dog. Again. Because the boyfriend works until 10:30 again tonight, and instead of working tomorrow morning and getting off at 6 or 7 tomorrow night, he's working until 10:30 again, so I don't get to see him, really, at all until Monday, it seems. And yes, I know the commas in that previous sentence are chopping things up too much, but I don't care. My grammar sucks this afternoon...it's because I need a beer very badly. I don't know what else to tell you.

I'd better get going. Hope everyone has a faboolous weekend, and I'll see y'all back here again on Monday, I'm sure. Bah!

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Some things around the house...

So, here I am to bore you all once again. Just wanted to show you some of the shit I obsess over in my down time...

Like, the dog:

Or my peony bushes that FINALLY fucking bloomed today. Everyone else's bloomed like 5 days to a week ago, so why MINE were so stubborn, I do not know...

And here's my brand new, not-sparkly-but-still-just-as-beautiful, very expensive addition to my home - my new driveway. Gorgeous, no? Whatever...it's pretty to me, dammit:


So there you have it. A little bit of my home life in a nutshell. Back to our normally scheduled programming on Friday afternoon, I'm sure...

I can't help it...

Why does the media feed me like this? To save you from having to wander all the way over there if you're feeling a bit lazy, it's a headline that reads, "Off to a record start, Pujoles defiantly says he's clean."

Keep in mind, the man's last name is pronounced "poo holes". THAT is pure comedy, my friends...

Uuuhhhh, wha...?

I swear to Jeezy, this cannot make sense to anyone: "All that part of the west one-half of the northeast quarter of the northeast quarter of Section 36, township 13 south, range 24 east, in the city of [removed for security reasons], being more particularly described as follows:

Commencing at the northwest corner of the northeast quarter of said Section 36; Thence N 87’44’32" E, along the north line of the northeast quarter of said Section 36, a distance of 1325.35 feet to the northeast corner of the northeast quarter of the northeast quarter of said Section 36, said point being the point of beginning of this description..."

This is part of the legal description of a plot of land one of my coworkers is dealing with. I typed it up for him from a little slip of paper he had given me after I told him that it wouldn't be a problem typing it and there was no reason to scan it in and add it to the agreement later. I told him this BEFORE I started typing things that make no sense at all such as, "one-half of the northeast quarter of the northeast quarter of..." I thought it was a misprint until I saw that it said that throughout the entire legal description (I only cut and paste a small portion of what I typed up...), and then I realized that city property laws? Yeah, they SUCK ASS, apparently. Can you imagine having to read and type and deal with content like this day in and day out? BLEH!!

I'm avoiding work, can you tell?

Reality my ass...

I'm quite irritated with the outcome of last night's Top Chef. Seems I'm not alone, after viewing the message boards. I don't know if I can stand to do it, but I kinda want to not watch the finale due to the choice the judges made last night in asking Dave to leave. I'm pretty sure that Harold will win anyway, but it's just the principle of the whole thing. Tiffany's dishes weren't pleasing to anyone in any of the room service rounds. And she chose pork and steak dishes as the low fat, high protein dishes for the final round? WTF? Is she an idiot? I wonder what would happen if I went to her restaurant and asked for a dish that's normally served with a cream sauce to be served without the sauce. I bet she'd put it on there anyway, regardless of my dietary needs. Bitch.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Thank GOD, it's the end of the day...

Ever have those days that feel like they stretch on foreeeeeevvvvvveeeeerrrrr? No? Must just be me, then.

Just an update, my pee smells wonderfully normal today. So I don't know what the fuck it's problem was yesterday. Pee is weird. (It also looks weird when you write it over and over again...pee, pee, pee, pee. See?)

My new, very expensive, put-me-in-the-proverbial-poorhouse driveway was poured today. It looks beeyootiful. I took pictures, even. I will post them later (perhaps tomorrow, even) so as to continue my theme of boring my readers to death on a regular basis.

I just want everyone to note how I used the words "poor" and "pour" in their prospective conjugations in that previous paragraph. Just thought I'd take the opportunity now to mention that it seriously bothers me when I read things (usually blog posts) that use them, and other words like them, incorrectly. Is it really that hard to know that the meaning of the word "poor" is to have little or no money, and the meaning of the word "pour" is to make something liquid flow from something like a pitcher or a spout of some sort? Oh, the word "patience" is one of them, too. Poeple are forever mixing it up with the word "patients". Um, VERY different things there, folks! So is the word "pitcher" when I think about it...GAH! Need to stop thinking about it! Is this the anal English major in me rearing her ugly head? Probly...

Ok. I can go home now. Bye.

On Death and Dying

Recently, a coworker’s mother passed away. She apparently had had a liver transplant back in 1986, and it finally gave out last week on Wednesday afternoon. Which is amazing in itself, really…that woman must have been one strong puppy to be able to make a transplanted liver last 20 years. Maybe it’s common, I dunno…seems like they’d not work as long as all that, especially if her body tends to attack livers in the first place, so kudos to her.

Anyway, this certain coworker is, um, (*cough*) close with another of my coworkers, and she was the one that let us all know of the passing and when the funeral was going to be and the fact that she was rewriting the obituary for him, since, you know, that isn’t WEIRD or anything. It’s not like maybe, say, his wife might be able to complete such a task. But whatev. (Apparently, this other coworker of mine thought the obit sounded like a book report, so she took it upon herself to make adjustments. At least, that's what she told me...she's the one that likes to fry herself on too regular of a basis and refered to Martin Luther King, Jr's b-day as "monkey day", so maybe that'll give you a bit more of an idea of the type o' chick I'm working with here...)

So this got me going on the subject of death. I see death differently than most folks, this is true. I’m not afraid of it, I don’t think it’s the end of anything at all, and I sort of look forward to my time on "the other side". Not in a sick, I-need-help,-call-my-family kind of way, but rather in a eh-if-it-happens-it-happens,-we-all-die-someday kind of way. I had a boyfriend die suddenly in 1997, my mother died less than a year later from a long drawn-out illness, and then the rest of the family started dropping like flies. My uncle, my step-grandma on my dad’s side, my coworker’s dad, my other uncle, my grandpa, and then my grandma (mom’s mom) died last year, I think it was. I’m sort of used to death. My dad is sick, too. I’m hoping he’ll live a good, long time, of course, but it might not be what is meant to be. Right now, he’s fine. But I’m prepared for it whenever it does happen, unfortunately.

Talking to my coworkers about it gave me the impression that I might seem a bit cold or indifferent towards the incident. Maybe it’s because I’m not particularly close to this coworker. Maybe it’s because of the way the other coworker that’s, um, a bit too close to him was behaving about it, I don’t know. But I had to explain to her as well as to a couple of other coworkers that it’s not that I trivialize the grief that said coworker is dealing with…that’s not it. I just don’t think that death is the end. I regularly communicate with my mom and the dead boyfriend, I feel their presence all the time, and it’s a good way to think about it, I think. I just see death as a normal everyday occurrence, I s’pose. Because it is. We aren’t immortal, y’all!

So I told two of my coworkers a favorite story of mine in order to put it into perspective for them. My mom used to be a part of a bible study at a church in Dana Point, CA that was really important to her. Those women were her very good friends, and they all supported each other even outside of the group when needed. One of those women had a husband that had been sick for a long, long time. He was bedridden, and she took care of him for the most part. One day, she went downstairs to get him some broth for his lunch. She left him in bed saying, "I’ll be right back, honey…"

When the woman returned to the bedroom with the broth in hand, she noticed that her husband had moved from the bed to his favorite chair. She was very happy! He hadn’t moved for a very long time, much less on his own, and here he was, sitting in his favorite chair again! Glory be! So she went over to him and said, "How wonderful! You’ve moved to your favorite chair, and you did it on your own! I’m so happy for you, honey!" But as she approached the chair, she noticed that he wasn’t responding. She checked his pulse after shaking him gently once or twice to try to wake him, and found that he was dead.

[At this point, the coworkers I was telling the story to said, "Ooh! That gave me goosebumps!" I tried not to laugh as I continued on with my story...I'm not the best of storytellers, if you didn't notice.]

The man had moved to his favorite chair so he could die. When my mother told us about what had happened to her friend, we went through the roller-coaster of emotions that the woman might have felt…how wonderful to see her husband finally up and about, only to discover that he’d died while she was out getting him some soup for his lunch. We all sat around the kitchen table, kind of quieted by the story, thinking to ourselves about the poor woman’s loss. My sister said something about how sweet it was that the man had moved to his favorite chair, probably knowing that he was going to pass, and that he’d wanted to be in a familiar and comfortable place to do it in. We all pondered that thought to ourselves.

After a moment, I spoke up. I said, "Well, when I die, you guys won’t be surprised by it. Just so you all know, I’m going to contort myself into the most uncomfortable and strange position, so that when whoever discovers me walks in the room, there’ll be no mistaking it. You’ll just walk in and go, ‘Oh no…she’s dead!’ No shock to it, no hope that I’m doing better all of a sudden. I’ll be in my death pose, and we’ll be good to go." I twisted myself into a funny pose as I said it, and the Twin laughed at the thought of it. I think we all came up with our own pose just about then, and my mother was grossed out by us, so she walked away.

But that's how we deal with shit like that in our family! We laugh at it. Hell, at my own mother’s funeral, as we walked next to her casket entering the church for her memorial mass, the flower arrangement that the Twin had created to lay atop the coffin slid off, as the mortuary had failed to bring anything to secure the layer of material that separated them from the top of the coffin, so turning the first corner made the flowers slide into whomever it was that was walking on the other side of the coffin. The Twin and mine’s reaction? Yeah, we laughed. Some might be horrified that such a thing might happen…but we just thought it was funny. The arrangement was recovered as best it could (it wasn't too bad...just lost a couple of small flowers, as I recall), and we continued down the center aisle, watching the flowers closely and hoping they wouldn’t slide again. They didn’t, I don't think. But it’s a funny memory for me. Which is odd, seeing as it was my mother’s funeral.

Anyway, I don’t think death is the end of it all. Maybe it is for some people, but I can’t be sure about that. I’ve lived in haunted houses, and I receive signs from my mom all the time that she’s around me and thinking of me, too. It makes it easier, somehow, to deal with the grieving, I think. I still cry every now and then, because there’s nothing like being able to actually interact in human form with someone, but I get over those little bouts relatively quickly, usually.

The coworker’s mother was cremated and her urn was buried in a "memorial garden" in front of the church…which happens to lie on a busy street. I didn’t like that idea. Even if there is a fountain there, and all, I’d never want to be buried in a hole right next to a busy fucking street. Uh-uh. I do know that I want to be cremated. I used to want my urn to sit on a prominent shelf in the Twin’s house, but we heard a homily (sermon) one day from a priest at church that spoke of the importance of the gathering of the family at the dinner table every day. And right then, I changed my mind, leaned over to the Twin, and whispered to her that I wanted my urn to be placed in the center of her dinner table after I’m gone. She said she wouldn’t do it. (She doesn’t want me on a shelf either, though…) I told her that if she didn’t put me where I requested, I would come back to haunt her for sure. My plan for the haunting is to leave little piles of dirt around her house, so when she comes across them, she’ll be all, "Dammit Faith!" and then she’ll have to clean it up.

I told my coworker as we left the church the other day (we went to the funeral to show our support to the coworker who’s mom had died) that I didn’t want to be buried in my urn, and that I pictured myself being sold at a garage sale someday for $2. The people would be surprised to find my ashes still inside, and they’d probably want to clean the urn out to use it for something else, but they wouldn’t be able to bring themselves to do it, so they’d probably put me in a closet somewhere where they’d forget about me until they moved or something, and then I’d be passed along through another garage sale. I hope I get passed from garage sale to garage sale, until I wind up living someplace like in Maine, perhaps. I’ve always wanted to see Maine…

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Is this gross? I don't know, really...

My pee smells funny today.

And no, I don't mean "funny ha ha".
Why can't people just follow the fucking rules? I didn't make them up...just do it. Don't ask me who told me what they were, don't tell me that I'm wrong when I have explained to you in detail how I came up with the process (and I shouldn't have even had to go THAT far, really), don't pretend like the rules are something that I obviously must have made up because they are simply too ridiculous for you to believe. Because, here's the deal: they aren't all that ridiculous. And you got yourself into a business that runs by 'em, ok? I didn't choose this profession for you. I know you want to make bundles and bundles of money without having to deal with too much red tape, and I wanna do that too. But certain things are required in certain places, and if you don't like it, then go someplace else that's willing to commit fraud to do business, 'cause this ain't the place for you. Because this company follows rules, since if we don't, we could possibly lose our license to keep on doing business. Which means we can't make money. Which doesn't work for the rest of us. Maybe it does for you, I dunno...

Sometimes, you have to actually work to make money. It's not just about the chatting up of clients and the throwing of parties and the printing up of marketing materials. You actually have to, I dunno, do paperwork and fill our forms and follow procedures in order to get the job done right.

Fucktard.

Monday, May 15, 2006

Yay! It's payday! Now I can pay my bills! Dammit...

My eyes hurt. I hate allergies.

I don’t know where to begin on this one. So let’s start with this. Last month, I wrote a note to the upper management at my old company, and I never heard back from them. So I waited a couple of weeks and then re-sent the letter, asking them if they had received it the first time, and please let me know. Again, no response. (However, I've heard through the grapevine that my letter is circulating as I expected it would throughout my old office. So I know the bigwigs got it and passed it down, but they still haven’t responded to me in the least. Typical.)

So on Friday, I had a moment or two, and I decided to send it again. But this time, I went to the very top of the division of the company I used to work for. I sent the letter, along with my previous e-mails I’d already sent, to the CEO as well as the Human Resources manager, letting them know the following: "Just as an FYI, I'm not looking for any kind of apology or any sort of compensation in this matter. I'm simply wanting to know if my message has been received, so I'm not sure exactly why I haven't received any sort of response regarding the receipt of my note. I wanted to alert the upper management to the way I felt I was treated as an admin while working at [previous company], as well as to some general problems I observed within the management I was exposed to at the regional and divisional level in my part of the country."

I didn’t know what to expect from sending this note, to be honest. I think I really thought that it would be ignored, once again, and that I would just have to tell myself that at least I tried to get my voice heard, and I did a damned good job of it, and it’s time to just move on now. However, the company decided to have the human resources department follow up with me, which I thought was really the best idea overall. The representative for my part of the country called me at 6 p.m. on Friday night, as I was winding down by watching some Food Network and having a glass of wine. The first question she asked me was, "Why now? It’s been almost a year since you left." I pointed out to her that I had originally sent the note in on April 11, more than a month ago, and then I told her that I’d actually written it about a month before that, but hadn’t sent it at that time. Then I told her about my attachment to relationships (working, personal, etc…), and how working at that company had been a really big part of my life for those 4 years. It wasn’t easy to leave it behind, and apparently, it’s still not easy to leave those feelings of resentment and pain behind as well. We chatted for about a half hour about what it was that I wanted, and I repeated to her that I had simply wanted to know that my letter had been received. I mean, it’s not like I can sue them for anything, or what have you. I just wanted to make sure they knew that I was unhappy, why I was unhappy, and who was largely responsible for that unhappiness. I pointed out to her the following paragraph from my note I’d sent earlier in the day: "I also hoped that perhaps, by speaking out as I did, I would somehow help the current administrative staff that works in the regional offices across the country for [previous company]. They work very hard day in and day out, and deserve a less condescending view of their positions from upper management, and more respect in the form of proper compensation for the jobs they are asked to perform." I told her that I still have friends that work there, and I have a huge amount of respect for the administrative staff that have to stay there and keep working for mediocre pay for doing the job requested of them.

She was shocked to hear that I was training managers to do their jobs. She said she was sorry that things had worked out as they did, and that she understood why I wrote the letter. She asked me why I didn’t say something while I was still there, and I said I spoke to my direct manager, and that was all I could do. In my personal opinion, going over your direct manager’s head about something can cause a world of pain and stress. It’s not my style. I sent the letter now because it was something I wanted to let them know was on my mind for the last 2 years I was there. It’s something they should pay attention to. It’s something that shouldn’t be overlooked.

Whether they choose to breeze past it now without a second thought is on them. I certainly hope they don’t do that, though.

So that, my friends, is done. Do yourselves a favor, and if you’re in a management position at a company, or if you just have reason to require the help of a certain admin on a regular basis even if you aren’t in a management position, just think of them as being on the same level as you, ok? Because they are. As I said in my note to the CEO on Friday, it’s not hard to see when one has a "good" vs. "bad" admin. The ones that are competent, available, consistent, intelligent, and professional all rolled into one being? Yeah, they don’t come along every day. So appreciate them while you can. Because chances are they’ll lose their patience eventually, and they’ll move on and you won’t know how good you had it until they’re long gone, baby.

I need to go do some admin-type things now. Happy Monday morning, all…

Friday, May 12, 2006

Gah. GAH!!!!

Wait, there are people that give enough of a shit about American Idol that they will call for two straight hours in a row trying to place their votes?

Man. That just...well, it doesn't make any sense to me. Given, there are a lot of things that don't make any sense to me - child molesters, the ability of "Survivor" to continue to have new seasons, Britney Spears and Kevin Federline being allowed to reproduce - but this kind of hit me in a funny way this morning. Maybe it's the headache. I dunno.

But seriously, if you have enough of an interest in seeing random people who can sing succeed as much as to call and try to place your vote for them for two straight hours, then I have to say that you're either (a) 12, and shame on your parents for letting you waste time in such a manner, or (b) a complete waste of space, and should be living under a rock.

Either that, or people that SAY they called for two hours straight through are lying. Which is my opinion on the subject. Regardless, it's retarded. It's fucking American Idol, for chrissakes. what have we gotten out of American Idol thus far? Kelly Clarkson. That's it. I haven't heard of any of the other winners having nearly the same amount of success as her, and don't EVEN bring up that fucker Clay Aiken because...ick. He just grosses me out to even think about. And his voice bugs the SHIT out of me! Besides, he didn't even win, right? Didn't that other dude, Ruben, win? Where the hell is he these days?

Mind you, I don't care about any of this stuff, so please do not overload my comments section with information about the careers of any prior contestants from AI, or anything like that. My head hurts, this article didn't help, and now I feel even more ill than I did before, if that's possible.

Ugh. I hate blood vessels...

I have had a headache rather steadily for the past 3 days. Yesterday, I was able to appease it every few hours with a few ibuprofen, but I realized last night that I was out of Advil at home. So when I went to bed with the headache pounding at my eyeballs again, I knew it wasn’t going to be a pretty night. It wasn’t absolutely TERRIBLE, but I was up more than I was asleep due to the pain, it seems. So today, I have a headache, am going on very little sleep, and am now feeling rather ill and shaky for some reason. My eyes feel puffy. It hurts to look at my monitor. It’s not good. I’m drinking some Diet Coke and just downed 4 ibuprofen tablets from the stash we keep in our supply room. I’m praying it won’t be long before this subsides a bit – I have a ton of work to do today.

I have a story I wanna tell, too, but I’m feeling too nauseous to write now. God this sucks…

Thursday, May 11, 2006

What is that milkshake thing? Everyone wants mine? I dunno...

I just completed that map I've been working on for about a week now. First of all, I had to learn the program for creating the map, so it's not like I'm an idiot for taking so long to create one. Not that ANYONE knows just WTF I'm even talking about, but humor me...I'm excited.

So it took me a few days to figure the whole thing out. Then I created the map, and at the end of the day on Thursday last wee, I think it was, I was all proud of myself for having something I needed to save so I could re-open it and work on it some more the next day. Mind you, I'd spent about 6 hours of my work day on it on Thursday, so it was a big dealio. So I followed the instructions as I'd written them when I watched my coworker do it earlier in the week, I clicked on the "no" button when it asked me a certain question, and suddenly it all shut down, and my map was gone.

I'm not kidding when I tell you that tears came to my eyes almost immediately. I knew that my map had been lost forever, but I went and asked my coworker what I'd done wrong. She saw the tears in my eyes, she heard my whining voice, and...she laughed at my ass. She thought it was hilarious, which was really very mean of her, I thought.

Anyway, I recreated the damned thing, made sure I knew how to save it properly from then on, and finally finished it today. Except I just printed it out, and of course, there are some irregularities that need to be fixed, dammit.

But one of my coworkers dropped by my desk yesterday, and she was absolutely amazed that I had been able to pull together a map of this caliber...she said it was definitely an "advanced map" so I felt pretty good about that. And then another coworker just saw the map, and he wants a copy, he likes it so much. And I'm feeling pretty fucking awesome right now, is all. :)

Oh! I need to get going! Gotta go let the puppy out to pee...bah!

HA!

HA! Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

I HATE that guy. Nasty piece of trash loser dressing like a fucking homeless person to watch his games, needs a decent haircut/style, and you'd think he'd be able to afford at least that, seriously. And it's not that he needs to wear a suit to every game, or something, but fuck, how about a decent polo shirt and some nice slacks or even a nice pair of jeans? He always looks so sloppy, I just can't even stand him in the least.

So again I say HA! (Even though $200,000 means nothing to you, although it would buy most of us in the midwest a lovely home we could settle into, and you probably won't even give it a 2nd thought. Piece of trash...)

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Continuing with the boring...

So I ate Chipotle for lunch, but did it in a new way - I got a chicken "burrito bol" with black beans, fajita veggies, mild salsa, lettuce, and guacamole (and YES, for the gazillionth time, I KNOW IT COSTS EXTRA! CHRIST...), and asked them to hold the rice. It was very filling. And although the guacamole adds a significant jump in calories and fat, it's the good for you kind, so I tend to get it now and then. It's not like I was eating an order of fries or a fucking donut, so it's all good.

I love using the Chipotle Nutritional Info calculator in order to whip up all kinds of different combos of things, and seeing if they fit into my daily needs. My little concoction today added up to 649 cals and 35 grams of fat, and after calculating the fiber in the carbs, only about 28 carbs. Nice. I should have done it without the guac, though. That would have taken it down to 479 cals and 20 grams of fat. Much more reasonable. But whatev. I'll eat light tonight.

The chick in front of me in line heard me order and said, "That's what I should've done...I'm being a pig today! I don't even want to think about how many points are in the tortilla alone." Now, I don't know why she assumed I was a Weight Watcher, but maybe it's because I'm a big girl, and/or she just figured I should be on it if I'm not. Whatev. But we chit-chatted about sodium and how many calories there would be in my dish if I'd left off the guac and how caffeine is her biggest nemesis all the way to the end of the line, and then she paid, and got out of there, and I paid, and got my soda and left, and I'll probably never see her again, but I love it when that sort of thing happens.

Now, on to important things...

I'm wondering how many more times the whole "Oops, I did it again" thing can be used in relation to Britney Spears at this point. Yes, most headlines are rather general variations of it, now that I'm sure everyone is as tired of it as I am, but they're still doing it is the problem. Yes, she had a song that lends itself to being used as a tag-line, and yes, she's done a few things a couple of times in a row now that it can be used for (marriage, endangering her first child, and now the whole prego again thing and all...), but newsflash for ya: IT'S GODDAMMED OLD AT THIS POINT! Jeezy! She can go live on the same island I wanna send Tom Cruise, Michael Jackson, and David Blaine to, as far as I'm concerned. Having those people as far away from natural society as possible is the key to world peace, I'm sure of it. Let's just give it a 6 month trial run to test my theory, ok? That's all I'm asking for, really. Just 6 months...it's not much, right? Can I start a petition for this sort of thing, do you think?

I have been waiting with baited breath for some sort of commentary from Maine on the subject of the new Burger King burger that's been released to the world (a.k.a. the Texas Double Whopper) and he finally has a post up that's related to that very subject today. I agree with him on the commercial. I think it's funny, if a bit sexist, but I find a lot of sexist things funny when I think about it. Hm. Am I a man, and I don't know it? I might need to get that checked out...

And that's it. Gotta pee, need more water, and need to get back to The Map That Has Become My Very Nemesis here at work. Hate, hate, HATE the map! Almost done with it, though, and the victory of having it over and done with will taste sweeter than most things ever have, I tell you. How's THAT for an ending to a crappy post? :D

Please approach.

I went to yoga last night, and appear to be one with the world again...for now. No telling when things will backfire again, though. I'm gonna try keeping up with my vitamins a bit better than I have been lately, and see if that doesn't help.

See, the weird thing is that it's not like I'm pissed at or about any one thing in particular. Or in general, for that matter! I've just been on the quick side of irritable lately for apparently no reason at all. And while that may seem easy to explain for some, it's not for me. I tend to have a bad day here or there. But not several bad days in a row. It's been bothersome to say the least, and I'm hoping that the mood I woke up in today (i.e. a good one) will last longer than just a few hours.

On another note, is it normal for those who cut back on carbs a bit (therefore increasing the amounts of fiber the body gets, naturally) to get a bit, um...loose more often than not? It makes sense, I guess. I've been doing ok on my lower carb attempts. Monday, had egg whites and veggie sausage for breakfast, banana for a snack, a Wendy's grilled chicken sammich and a few fries for lunch, and then some fish tacos for dinner. Probably had a total of about 200 - 250 carbs that day. Yesterday I had a bagel for breakfast, some wheat berry for lunch, and rice with dinner, so that would have been about a 175 carb day. It's making a difference in my digestion, it seems.

Oh, wait. I forgot that I had a snack pack of Chex Mix yesterday for a snack in the morning (I was just so hungry yesterday, for some reason!), and there are a hefty amount of carbs in those things. So I really had about a 225 carb day yesterday. Hm. This isn't making any sense, so I'm gonna stop thinking about it now.

The boyfriend has been on a downloading kick lately. He ran out of cash until he got paid on Tuesday, though, so there was a bit of a break from it over the weekend. But over the past week I have received the Yeah Yeah Yeah's, both Dresden Dolls albums (I like the second one - or the most recent one - better. On the first one, I find it hard to hear her on most of the songs, and it bugs me a bit. She has such a cool voice! I wanna hear the voice!!!), and last night he pulled together the Morningwood album for me. It's been fun. And apparently Morningwood was a good deal, for some reason, so that's nice. The only problem I have with the downloading is that he creates cd's for me and I don't have the list of the songs in the case along with it, so I don't know the titles of them. This hasn't ever really bothered me a great deal, though, as I usually refer to liking certain tracks on a cd as opposed to knowing the actual song names, but for some reason it still bugs me to not have them for reference. I'm weird like that, though.

The puppy had her first official visit with her new vet yesterday. She weighs a whopping 7.7 pounds, apparently, so that's a healthy amount of growth in the 5 weeks that she's been with us, I think! She got the shots she needed, and we have a new calendar of when we need to get things taken care of in the future, along with several handouts about how to deal with biting issues that puppies have, training classes they offer at the vet's office, and all that sort of good stuff. I think we should be able to afford the training classes in June, hopefully. Depends on how much work my house needs from the handyman I'm gonna call, and how big of a bonus I receive at the end of that month. It should be a good size, so I'm hoping that $90 for a training class will be doable.

This morning, while in the shower, I had a good topic to discuss today, I swear. I didn't have anything to write it down on, though, and of course that means that I forgot what it is, dammit. Oh well. Maybe it'll come to me later. But in the mean time, let me apologize for the boringness. Carry on, now...

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Might wanna skip me for a while...

Mood is no better today than yesterday, and in fact, seems worse right about now.

Very busy, and very irritable.

Bye.

Monday, May 08, 2006

What is UP?

I'm in a seriously pissy mood lately. It goes away now and then, but is pretty much present all the time, for the most part. I'm tired of it. I'm wondering what's causing it. I don't want it any more, thanks. (And if only it were that easy to get rid of it, eh? *sigh!*)

Weekend was as relaxing as it coulda been, I guess. Friday night, the boyfriend and I joined our friends for First Friday downtown...it's this art thing that happens down there every - you guessed it! - first Friday of each month. Basically, all the galleries are open, people walk from place to place checking out the exhibits that are up, and they mingle and have fun and eat. It's all very mellow, really. So we met up with our friends at the galleries/studios they work at, which are a bit southeast of the main section of the downtown area where the First Friday events are centralized. Very cool spaces, I thought. And then we headed into the main section of the event, and found a parking spot right in front of the gallery they enjoy a lot, as I understand it. (It's called Dolphin, I believe...nice place.) The art wasn't much to my liking, unfortunately, and it was also about 8:30 at that point, I think, and I was ready to sit down, have a beer, and eat some dinner. The timing on going out on a weekend can be rough for the boyfriend and I, since he gets off work so late, and so meeting up with people after he's worked a shift can be hard. We tend to not be able to get anywhere before 7:45 or 8, and that's WAAAY past my mealtime, unfortunately. I knew this was going to happen on Friday, though, so when I got home from work, I had a piece of toast with some artichoke/sundried tomato spread on it, and figured that would help out. It did, but not enough, I'm afraid.

So, here we were in this lovely gallery, and I kept seeing people walking around with beers and drinks and things, and I realized I was really quite thirsty. I asked the boyfriend if he could get me a beer. They were serving it from a back room, and apparently, he felt really uncomfy walking in there initially, and he re-emerged quickly without anything at all. He said it seemed like it was a room we weren't supposed to go into...it was like a private party or something. Nonsense, I thought. I've seen people coming in and out of there for the past 20 minutes, and I KNOW that's where we can grab something to drink. So I went in there myself...and I could see how he might feel intimidated. It was like a private little party back there. So I went to introduce myself to the host as soon as possible. "Hello, Keg. Nice to see you again! I'm just gonna get some of the lovely Boulevard Wheat you're offering off of one of your taps, and then I'll leave you to the other guests again." Fabulous. I had my beer. I tried to walk back out to see if the boyfriend wanted anything, and apparently got in the way of someone who didn't notice I was there...beer spilled all over me and my purse, profuse apologies from formerly-oblivious-guy, no napkins available for me to clean up with, and so I pulled out one of my handkerchiefs and cleaned up with that (which, shit...I forgot to pull it out of my purse this weekend and throw it in with the laundry. Dammit.), and then tried to head out the door again. This time, boyfriend and our friends came through the door, though, and I got bumped into again, and the evening started taking it's little emotional roller-coaster ride from then on out. My friend didn't know that I'd just had beer spilled all over me by another person, but I was irritated all the same, and being bumped into for a second time in 2 minutes and I was hungry, and dammit, I hadn't even had a chance to take a sip of the beer yet, and grrrr! I snapped a bit. I didn't know if we were going to be having a drink and then heading out into the gallery area again, so I stayed by the door and waited. Boyfriend came back with his drink, and we stood for a moment and chatted, and then I noticed that our friends were sitting in the lounge area of the room, so we went to join them there. We talked about heading into a different part of the First Friday area where we might be able to grab a bite to eat as well, and got up to leave after about 10 minutes. Our friends know a few people in the community, though, and stopped to chat with someone they knew on our way out the door. The boyfriend took this opportunity to find a bathroom, and I looked around at some more of the art, as the gallery had cleared a considerable amount since we'd been in the back room having drinks.

I didn't get it. It was a photography exhibit, and I just. didn't. get it. Our friends said that's what art is all about...the subjectiveness of the reaction and all. But here's the deal...I could've pulled together a show of my own photography, and tried to sell it for $1200 a piece, and it wouldn't have looked any different than this dude's stuff. It just...bugged me, is all. (But, again, I'm highly irritable lately, so most things are bugging me, least of all this art.)

We went to a place called "Grinders" after we were done there, planning on grabbing a bite, and then maybe heading to another gallery that stays open later, if we could. But it was not meant to be. For some reason, the meatball sub (without cheese) that I ordered took 20 minutes longer to make than the pizza that our friends had ordered. Didn't help much that the first time they made it, they put cheese on it. Whatev. I was just trying not to blow a gasket at that point. The place was dirty, it was not my kind of scene, I was hungry, and while I was really glad to have a beer in my hand, I clearly needed some food, or I was going to lose it.

I don't know if this happens to everyone, but I have several different ways that hunger manifests itself in me, and none of them are very pretty. Usually, I get really nauseaus and feel like throwing up. This tends to happen more in the morning than any other time, but it has happened at night before as well. Another thing that can happen is I get a headache, and I get really light-headed and kind of spacey. This is not a favorite of mine, as it tends to make me feel like passing out, and I don't like that feeling. The third type is where I don't feel any symptoms of being hungry at all, really (i.e. no tummy rumbling, no lightheadedness, etc...), but I get really, really bitchy. Nothing can please me. Even the smallest thing can set me off. Yeah. That's the way my hunger was manifesting itself on Friday night. Perfect for a social setting, IMO. Awesome.

So, anyway, by the time we all had eaten and had a couple of drinks (and I was finally back in a good mood...), the rest of the galleries were pretty much closed. So we went over to our friends' house and made some margaritas in honor of the "holiday" and all, everyone wound up getting smashed pretty quickly except for me since I was driving, and then boyfriend and I went home where he promptly passed out and I stayed up with the dog for another hour, since she'd been in her kennel pretty much the entire day.

I don't know. I just don't think that art is so much my thing. I love older art, like Monet and Van Gogh and that sort of stuff. I like photography, but I'm more of a landscape girl across the board. Modern art tends to bore me. I don't get it, I don't have a desire to get it, and I don't understand why anyone would want to pay exhorbitant amounts of money for it to be hanging on a wall in their own home. The guy's photos we saw on Friday night? Yeah, go get a disposable camera, head out to a carnival and a baseball game, snap a few photos, go have them developed and blown up at your local Target, frame them and hang them - BAM! You can do about 40 photos like that for the amount this guy was charging for some of his single pieces.

I'm not an artist myself, which might make it a bit more difficult for me to appreciate. I don't think it's a matter of me being "uncultured" or "unsophisticated"...like I said before, I do like art. But I tend to like the older things. I'm more of a pretty person...I like a pretty landscape with pretty colors, and lovely images - a la Monet. I love Robert Doisneau and I can certainly appreciate even a good amount of modern photography, for sure. Sculpture? Eh...not so much. I never could understand the shuttle-cocks on the lawn at the Nelson-Atkins. They take away from the beauty of the building itself, IMO. But the rest of the sculpture garden is neat, I guess. I think I prefer smaller pieces that are made of some sort of iron or whatever.

Anyway, to sum up, I felt bad for being a bitch on Friday night, I don't think that Grinders is all that great of a place to grab a bite, I don't get modern art, margaritas are yummy, and sleep is a good thing when I'm in a bad mood.

The rest of the weekend consisted of me hanging out with the dog. Very exciting. And she was on my last nerve as of last night, and again, I felt pretty bad about it, but what can you do? Every once in a while, the world just turns upside down, and nothing seems to be in a good place. All I can do when this happens is just roll with it, and hope it comes to an end sooner rather than later. It makes me wonder if something bad is going to happen, though. I hate that feeling.

As usual, I have to get to work. Working on a map that I've been trying to master for the past 4 days, and I think I'll be able to finally complete it by this afternoon, if I get at it and stay with it. Woo!

Hope everyone has a good Monday...

Friday, May 05, 2006

And oh, by the way...

If you were the jackass driver of the white SUV parked in the parking lot below Starbucks on the Plaza that got a note on your car around lunchtime that said the following: "Is it really so very hard to NOT park like an asshat? Jerk..." It was from me. Don't park in two spots, especially in that lot, buttmunch.

Although you may think your penis is too big to fit into just one spot, it's actually small enough to do so. Easily, I might add. Fucktwat.

I bet you're the type of person that drives precariously close to the lane next to you as you motor down Ward Parkway, too, huh? Because your penisUV is just too big to even be able to safely drive down the road without everyone around it giving you PLENTY of room to be able to get by, right?

Yeah. NOT, you dipshit.

And for the record, I have refered to you as being an asshat, jerk, buttmunch, fucktwat, AND dipshit in this post, just to make clear how big of a reject you really are.

I hate people who feel they're entitled to do whatever the fuck they want to in this world. Seriously.

Have a great weekend, everyone! :D

I feel funky!

This morning, I kept sneezing. I'm outta kleenex at my desk, though, so I couldn't have this keep happening over and over. Each time I sneezed, snot was present at the edge of the nostrils, so it was getting to be a messy event each time it occurred.

Then I remembered the Tylenol Sinus Severe Congestion I keep in my desk for emergency use during bad sinus headache attacks. I didn't have a headache, and I hear that Tylenol is advising folks to stop using their medications for anything other than what they're meant to do (as well as advising folks on proper dosage recommendations...), but here's the deal: my nose was sniffly thanks to something we call "pollen", I was tired of sneezing and snot, so I decided to down a dose, even though I didn't have half of the symptoms it should be used for. DUN-DUN-DUN! (Please don't tell the Tylenol police on me...I have a very relaxing weekend planned, and I don't need them ruining it for me.)

It did the trick, believe it or not, I think due to the fact that it has pseudoephedrine in it, but I'm not sure. I stopped sneezing, the snot retreated, all is well.

But this is what I hate about the stuff, and I think I'll stop taking it from now because of this: It makes my pee smell funny. Like, really funny. It's hard to describe, but lemme give it a go. It's like a sterile hospital room filled with band-aids. (Band-aids have always had a funny smell to me, so I'm sorry if that reference never makes any sense to anyone. Go smell a Band-Aid brand band-aid...particularly the regular old plastic kind, and tell me it doesn't smell weird. Go on! You'll see what I mean.)

I HATE the way it smells. And what's more, somehow, it makes my whole choo-cha smell like it, even when I'm just walkin' around doing nothing but minding my own business. And it's not a particularly delicate odor either. When I crouched down at home to put the dog back in her crate earlier, there it was...even though I hadn't pee'd for about 20 minutes. And for the record, I'm an awesome wiper, so that's not the issue, kay? Shut up.

I had to stop eating eel sushi because of this reason...it made my pee smell like eel sushi for the rest of the evening after I'd eaten it, and I couldn't stand it. Rice Chex do it too...when I eat Rice Chex, my pee smells like Rice Chex. But that's not such a bad thing. Haven't eaten them for a long time, though, so maybe I subconsciously hate them, too. Hmm...

Anyway, it's really a bother, because I have half a box of this stuff left, and damned if I wanna throw it away. It cost money, you know? I hate throwing perfectly good stuff away for weird reasons.

Plus, it makes me all buzzy, and I like that. I don't like that it's making it hard to focus on work that I need to do, but whatever. It's Friday. I can fuck around a bit on Friday, right?

Ugh. Ate too much salad for lunch. Gonna go try to forget about the amount of lettuce my intestines will be processing within the next few hours. Bleh.