Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Me: "Awesome! Ok, when is it?"
HCFDC: "It's on March 9th, at..."
Me: "WHAT? Wait...no. That's 3 months from now!!!"
HCFDC: "He's very busy, so that was the earliest appointment."
Me: ::headdesk:: "Ok, there must be another endocrinologist that has availability before then! I know that doctor is probably wonderful, but he can't be the only one. NP told me yesterday in my appointment about another group that I could see if Dr. Fabulous was too busy...maybe I can get in with them? I was hoping for something no later than mid-January, if at all possible..."
HCFDC: "I'll try calling and finding another appointment. I'll call you back."
Me: "Ok, thank you! I really appreciate it."
20 minutes later, the Health Center Front Desk Chick had found me an appointment with a different endo near my work. I'll see the doctor on January 19th. MUCH better...
I'm also going to totally try changing up my diet after I get back from vacation. We'll see if that helps at all, too. ::sigh::
Tomorrow, I leave for California (if it hasn't floated away, or been destroyed by tornadoes before then), so posting will be few and far between until after I get back to work on 1/3/11. Happy holidays to you all!
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
- Incredibly dry skin. Worse than ever experienced before. I'm itchy ALL THE TIME. Sucks.
- Dry, brittle, will-not-grow nails. I started taking Vitamin D a couple months ago to try to combat it, because this happens every winter, really. But this year, it's actually gotten worse than it ever has been in the past. (Hmm...starting to sense a pattern here...) If any bit of nail grows out past the bed, it inevitably breaks off in jagged pieces within hours/days. Sucks.
- Working out pretty religiously 3 -4 times a week (sometimes 5), and changing my cardio so that I'm doing interval training has not affected my weight in the slightest. In fact, my body is so fun, it decided to go ahead and let me GAIN 4 pounds over the past 6 weeks. No, it isn't muscle instead of fat. I've been building muscle for the past year...at this point, the fat should be burning off, and I should still be losing at least 1 - 2 pounds a month. Even if the muscle mass IS getting heavier. So, yeah. SUCKS.
- My eyelids and overall facial area have jumped on the dry skin bandwagon. It's preeetty. (And it sucks. ::sigh::)
- My mood swings have become scary even to me.
- I'm tired. I'm so, sooo tired. And I get, on average, 6 - 7.5 hours of sleep per night. On weekends, I get a little bit more. So, WTF?
I've been keeping a food diary for the last week, and I'm going in to get some blood test results today to see if there's anything up with my thyroid. And if the tests don't show anything, I'm calling bullshit, and asking to be refered to an endocrinologist. I'm tired of this. My trainer is tired of hearing me bitch about it. (And I feel bad about her working with me for the past 9 months, with nothing to show for it!) Something is wrong in my body. I'm gonna figure out what it is before mid-January, or go down trying.
Wish me luck.
UPDATE: Well, my thyroid numbers (the TSH ones, anyway) came back normal...again. I expected that, actually. I told the NP I wasn't accepting that, and we needed to look deeper. I told her that the cholesterol numbers going up the way they did last year were a sign something is wrong, and that the fact that I'm gaining weight instead of losing (or at the very least maintaining!) at this point in time is another sign, and that we need to figure it out. I will pay full cost for tests to be run! I will be stuck over and over with needles, happily! I just want to know what's wroooonnng.
She left the room for a bit to go over my last couple of blood tests (the ones with the cholesterol and glucose numbers...), and came back and said that I was right. The cholesterol did behave oddly over the last two years, and that it was evident that I was making an effort to change when she compared the tests I did last February and then again at the end of April. She talked to the other NPs and the doctor that was in today, and they all agreed that I should probably see an endocrinologist.
So we drew more blood, and they're going to test more stuff. And they're going to get me an appointment with an endocrinologist on my plan. And hopefully, we're going to figure this out.
It shouldn't be this hard, guys. Our medical professionals shouldn't be this difficult to talk to when there's a problem. I told her that other people I've talked to have had this same kind of reaction when they've insisted there's a problem, and I was prepared to face it. "What other people?" she asked me. And I told her people that I know in real life...people that I read about online or in magazines...people who have been to the doctor and KNOW that something is wrong in their bodies, and they're basically just brushed aside and dismissed. And I told her, "I'm not going to let that happen. I'm willing to do whatever I need to in order to figure this out." She's a nice lady. She heard me. And thank goodness for that, because I was about to KICK SOME ASS.
I'll keep y'all updated on what happens. Let's hope we figure it out quickly, and without too much pain involved. ;)
Monday, December 20, 2010
- Go out to dinner to celebrate the holiday, and eat an amazing meal of lobster tail and filet. Save most of the filet for breakfast the following morning, and eat the hell out of the delicious lobster tail while at dinner. YUM.
- Catch up on the happenings over at The Bloggess. Cry. Read it again...cry some more. Fall in love with the internet all over again.
Between the Secret Santa that took over in Kansas City after Larry Stewart passed in 2007 (Larry was our original Secret Santa), and the stuff happening over at Jenny's site, it's almost enough to renew my faith in humanity. At the very least, it does manage to put a pretty big smile on my face.
I may hate people. But I do love it when they come together to do nice things for others. Warms my bitchy, cold heart, it does.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
I put on my Burt's Bee's cuticle wax stuff, because my fingernails are pretty much made of evil this time of year, and I've been working on strengthening them through moisture and massage and Vitamin D. (But they still break easily...like while I open the car door. Or when I flip over in bed at night. Don't ask me how, they just do. They suck...)
And then I reached for the little jar pot of very concentrated Burt's Bee's Almond Milk lotion I keep next to the couch, and slather my hands with every time they feel like they need it.
And when I opened the jar, I saw this:
I showed my coworker the pictures this morning, after telling her about Friday night yesterday when we were shooting the shit during lunchtime. And she gave me the standard response that everyone does..."Are you sure your husband didn't put that there?" Yeah, I'm sure. I mean, he very well could have done this quarter. He was home alone all day yesterday, and the jar was just sitting there on the coffee table without anyone checking it to make sure quarters weren't in it at any given time. So, sure. Yeah it's possible that he put that one there.
But I just don't think he does any of this stuff. I think that people who have lived with someone for a while, or have been married for a few years, can attest to what I'm talking about here: you know when your spouse/significant other is fucking with you. You just do. And either Leo took an acting course without me knowing about it, and got really good with his poker face, or he's just not involved in any of the weird activity that happens around the house. I happen to believe it's the latter. But everyone is entitled to believe whatever they want to about my ghost stories.
It's hard enough for us to not tell each other what we bought one another for Christmas gifts over the course of the 2 weeks leading up to the holiday, though. We just aren't good secret keepers, I don't think. So I stand by the fact that all this paranormal stuff just keeps happening in our house. And we don't know when it will stop, or what will happen next. Maybe I'll pop open a tampon sometime, and find a dime. That'd be interesting...
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
My boss is one of those people that will be going on vacation for the holidays for the final 2 weeks of the year, starting next week. The thing is, he's also planning on maybe starting this week, if his schedule allows. But he doesn't know yet.
Unfortunately, that leaves a lot of meetings hanging in the balance, and I haven't sent out cancellation notices for the ones he hosts during the next 3 weeks at all yet, since I'm not totally sure what his schedule will be.
So this manager on his team sends me an email today asking me if the weekly staff meetings our boss holds will be happening on the 22nd and the 28th, even though boss will be out on vacation.
::sigh:: No. No they won't. But guess what? I'll get to that when I know what's totally up with boss's vacation, OKAY?
I told him that I was planning on working on cancellations for LOTS of meetings, but not until AFTER we have our staff meeting this afternoon. I want to bring it up with all the managers at the same time, so there's less confusion about the meetings I'm cancelling.
But maybe I should ask him if HE wants to do my damned job for me, and I'll just go home, since he's so eager to have this shit happen on HIS schedule and all.
Just...don't be that guy. Unless your admin is brand spanking new, she knows her ass from her elbow, most likely, and is able to manage her job just fine, alright? Leave her (or him! Could be a him...) the fuck alone.
God, I'm irritable today. I need more sleep, I think.
Monday, December 13, 2010
*Disclaimer, because I know all my stories about my house ghost are probably starting to sound pretty wild and ridiculous at this point. This is another one of those stories. I just wanted to say, one more time for the record, that I am not making this shit up. I have no desire to do any such thing. I'm writing about the actual paranormal events that are occurring in our home, which I swear to the great jeebus above that neither me nor my husband are doing to each other to freak the other one out. Our dogs are not this talented either. And as far as I know, we don't have any stray hobos living in our attic who come down to fuck with us at any given time of the day. If I ever do discover that all of this fun is the work of a stray hobo living in our attic, I will certainly let y'all know.*
Friday, as I mentioned, was the 1st anniversary of my father's death. I did not have a good day. I bullied my way through it quietly at my desk, and didn't even get to leave work until well after my normal exit time, so finally heading home was quite a relief.
Of course, once I got home, work followed me. I was on the phone with someone in IT about my issue that had been plaguing me for several days, while wandering around the house trying to not lose my mind. I sat down on the bed in the master bedroom at one point, and noticed a penny in the corner of our big Matisse drawing we have in there. "Honey! I found a penny!" (I was on hold with the IT chick at the time...) Leo came in from the kitchen to see where it was, and we had a laugh, and then went back to our normal business.
Oh, and we took pictures of the penny in the corner of the picture, but for some reason when I was loading them into the computer Sunday afternoon, I thought it was one I'd already shared, and I deleted it. Sorry!
A while later, we were sitting on the couch enjoying our downtime (FINALLY), and Jake was doing this dance around the edge of the couch, constantly laying flat and looking under it at the toys that have rolled their way under there, eventually doing this loud sigh/whining thing that he does when he's frustrated and sad. I asked Leo to please get the damned toys out from under the couch for the puppeh! He's got long arms, so he figured he could reach them all. He got the flashlight, and went to point it under the couch, but as he did, he swept it across the bookcase across the room, and something caught his eye. "Ok, that is just CREEPY." I was all, "What's creepy?" And he just pointed with the flashlight at the picture of my parents we have up on top of the case, and then went back to his business of retrieving the toys from under the couch.
So I got up, and went to see what he was talking about. And there was a penny sitting directly under my dad in the photo on the shelf.
Immediate tears came to my eyes. "Look at where it is! Oh my God, that's so cool! Look, honey! Did you see that it's right under dad?" He had. He thought it was pretty cool, too. And then he gave me a hug. :)
So I took a picture of it with my phone right away (which accounts for the quality in that photo above...sorry 'bout that), and sent it on to my Twin in California so she could see how Jeffers really does seem to know what's going on in my life, and how he tries to cheer me up when I'm down about stuff.
About a half hour later, I had to pee. So I went to the bathroom, still a bit giddy from the penny under my dad in the living room. And as I grabbed at the toilet paper and pulled, a penny came flying out and landed on the floor at my feet. I started laughing hysterically...and then I had to reenact the event for the photo-taking purposes, but this is how it was set up:
I was giggling a fair amount at that point, and even Leo was having a good time with the whole thing, so whatever was going on, it was just what I needed. Instead of being sad and crying, I was laughing and being entertained by the randomness of the pennies. Which is apparently why Jeffers is there with us...he's all about cheering us up. Which I totally appreciate.
But that wasn't the end of the crazy. No, no! Not at all. We went to bed a bit late on Friday night, and we slept well. I woke up early on Saturday because I thought I was going to have to work, but that didn't wind up happening. Anyway, I woke up, and headed out to the living room. And as I walked past the photo of mom and dad on top of the bookcase, I saw that another penny had been added during the night...
That wasn't all the fun he had, though. I also noticed that he wanted to get in on the decorating for the holiday. We'd pulled the blue ball out from it's lengthy hiatus under the couch the night before, and the puppies had had their fair share of fun with it. Izzy was lying on top of it sleeping at one point, she was so glad to have it back.
But once we went to bed, the blue ball became Jeffers's way of saying an old timey hello, apparently! He plopped it on top of the tree, where the star would go, of course...
Later that morning, I had an appoinment with my trainer at the gym. I grumbled a bit as I pulled on my socks, and then when I went to put on my shoes, a penny slid down out of the toe of each foot before I put them on! Hahahahaha!
Now the next thing that happened creeped Leo out, and seemed to creep the Twin out a bit when I told her about it as well. I don't see any problem with it, really. It's weird, for sure. But it didn't hurt me, really.
So, when we got home from the gym, I was getting undressed for a shower when I smelled an icky smell in the bedroom. Something mildewy-ish that I couldn't track. I called Leo in to help me sniff it down (which we were both unsuccessful with, btw), and when I turned around at one point, he suddenly said, "OH MY GOD. Um, ::pointing emphatically::" I looked where he was pointing. I didn't see anything. I said, "What? What's wrong?" He, again, pointed emphatically in my direction. I said, "Look, this pointing thing you do is NOT helpful. You have to use your words. What the fuck is up?" So he said, "Just, go look in the mirror at your back." Um, AUGH. Ok...
So I did. And I saw this:
It also hurt a little when he removed it, but it went away after a little bit. It was just like someone had poked me too hard, was all.
The thing is, I never felt that penny at all. I had no idea it was there without Leo pointing it out. I don't know how long it had been there, but it had to have been sometime after I got home from my workout, I'd think. I was on my back a fair amount during the workout itself, and I'd think that after a bit of moving around the way I was doing, it would have come off on it's own. So it must've been put there after we got home from the gym, possibly after I took my shirt off to prepare for my shower.
I don't know what's next, guys. I really don't. I kinda wish Jeffers would clean the toilets, or something, if he's so darned intent on being involved in our lives! But in the meantime, nothing has happened since Saturday. I even found the red kong that I thought he'd taken a few weeks back...it was under the bed after all. So maybe he'll be quiet for a while, now that things are settling down a bit at work and at home. We'll just have to wait and see, I guess...
Friday, December 10, 2010
And, of course, there was that whole dad being gone thing. Yeah, that sucked just a lil' bit too.
It's been a tough week for me, emotionally and physically. I'm tired. I'm sad. I am stressed to the hilt. I wanna be with my family. But instead, I'm stuck at work with a fake smile on my face trying to get projects done before everyone leaves for their end of the year paid-time-off bonanza they get to take. (I work with a lot of people in management that have been at my company for upwards of 20 years. They earn a fair amount of time off every year, and they don't get to take it very often, thanks to the demands of their jobs. This inevitably leads to them taking 2.5 -3 weeks off all at once at the end of the year every year. Makes for a quiet office, once it happens. But until then, it's like hell on wheels getting shit completed! SUCKS.)
I miss my mom and dad a lot when it comes to normal times of the year, but around the holidays, the only thing that makes me feel better about them not being here is spending time with my brother and sisters. And I don't get to do that for another couple of weeks.
But today has come, all the same. So let me tell you a little bit about the awesomeness that was my dad. He was the oldest of 5. His mom died when he was 12 or 13 (I can never remember exactly) of the same disease that eventually killed him as well, and my grandpa remarried to a woman he met through an ad in the paper, because he needed help with raising 5 kids. She brought 3 of her own to the deal. So it was a crowded little house in Montebello, CA that my dad had to live in, along with his siblings!
When dad was 18 and graduated from high school, his step mom kicked him outta the house. Time to fend for yourself, Joe! Buh-bye! So off he went to find his way in the world.
And find it, he did. He stumbled here and there along the way, dealing with family crises, bankruptcies, business deals gone bad, and other assorted difficult issues here and there, but dad took it all in stride. He got wise very early. He didn't go to college, but the man was so good at dealing with investments and business ventures by the time he was in his 50's, he had built a small empire for our family. Not a huge one, but a decent one all the same.
He was a great dad, aside from all that, too. He liked to brush my long hair when I was little, and would often dry it for us (me and the Twin, I mean) after we washed it. He would get silly and tickle my feet when I was swimming, and would carry me on his shoulders to play chicken with our siblings. He cracked open coconuts on the back deck, and gave us the water from inside before carving into the meat of the nut, and putting it on a plate for us to chew on.
When we got older, he drove us around the lake in the boat in summertime, and he took me skiing with him and his buddy on Christmas day. Skiing with dad was always an adventure. He taught me how to get down any hill I was placed on top of, even if it meant waiting for me to painstakingly get down a mogul course that took me 30 minutes to criss cross without killing myself. (I don't DO moguls! He knew that, dammit!!!)
Boys never knew how to talk to dad...mostly because dad just didn't talk much himself! He was quiet to a fault. But usually it was because he was thinking deeply about something. Or that he was asleep. Dude worked hard...he was tired!
He paid for my first cars, for my college education, and for me to move to Kansas City after I graduated from college. If he was worried about all that spoiling me somehow, he never let on. And I think it worked out ok, gamble-wise. Except when I first moved to town, and asked him to help with my move into my first apartment. "Did you get a job yet?" he asked. "No dad, but I can't keep imposing on big sister and bro-in-law anymore. I need the apartment NOW. And I swear, I'll find a job soon! I've got a lead already!" I felt bad. He'd already given me so much! And one month later, I was gainfully employed and paying my own rent. I like to think that made him proud, just a little bit.
He was always there for me to fall back on, and when mom passed away, we got closer than we had been all my life. We watched Sex and the City together (I didn't have cable in my apartment, so he graciously allowed me to come over and watch at his house), we had dinner sometimes, we all (the Twin and her girls, me and dad) went to church on Sundays, and then had brunch afterward each week. It was nice living nearby him again, and I was grateful that he didn't judge me for the career choices I'd made at that point in my life.
He was just a good dad. He was funny in a weird way, and ambitious, and loving, and always good at giving advice.
I can't believe I can't ever call him for advice again!
Anyway, I miss him. I don't understand why he and mom had to leave this earth so early, but I'm sure there was a good reason for it. Somewhere.
Have a good weekend, everyone.
Thursday, December 09, 2010
I put it in the top drawer with the other coins. It was the first time Jeffers had given me something other than a quarter. It wasn't even a special nickle, like with a cool date or anything. It was just from, like, 1986, or some shit. Blah.
THAT was new! So I laughed, and went back out to the living room and told Leo what I'd found. And he had to come get it down, because I couldn't reach it. And then I put it in the drawer with the other coins.
And then on Monday, I think it was? I was again in the bathroom (yes, I spend a lot of time there...it's a nice bathroom. Also, I like primping, ok?) getting ready for bed, and when I closed my medicine cabinet after getting out my toothpaste, I saw a penny on the photo framed on the wall opposite me, being reflected in my medicine cabinet mirror. I kind of made a "Eeee!" noise and then laughed, and told Leo we'd gotten another penny. (It was not the remaining penny in the dish in the kitchen, though. We checked. So we're not sure where this one came from.) And then I got the camera to take pictures...
$1.42 so far. (Or $1.47, if you count the one from the suitcase.)
I truly wonder where we go from here. One thing's for sure...I'll keep you all in the loop on whatever it is!
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
And I can't help but look at them and wonder how they can handle all that cold? Like, just cold-ass winds blowing on them while they bob around on a semi-frozen lake thing, or stand on the ice with their little unprotected feet.
I'm glad I'm not a duck. (Or a goose.)
Last night, I was driving home from work, and as I approached one of the more traffic-congested areas near the freeway, and had the lane I was in open up so I was able to go a comfy 40 - 45 MPH unimpeded, I celebrated by singing a little song to myself about my lucky open lane and all the pretty green lights. (The song thing is something I inherited from my mom. I try to keep it to myself, but if you ever hear it, I hope it's at least a little endearing.)
I apparently jinxed myself by celebrating my open lane and green lights. Because as I approached the offramp signal for the freeway I was passing over, a lady in a white car sitting at the red light waiting to turn right into the lane I was in started to iiiinnnch...ever so...slooowwly...out...into...the laaaane...as if....she...was going...to puuuull...in front of me. And as she did it, all I could do was say, "What are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? Gaaahhhh..." And then there she was, pulled right out in front of my full-speed 45 miles per hour, and I had to slam on my brakes.
It was like I was dealing with an idiot in slow motion, and there was nothing I could do about it. It all took place in the course of about a 5 second span. It really was one of the more odd things I've seen someone do, stupid-wise, when it came to their driving retardation.
My favorite part, after the fact of her pulling out in front of me, of course, was that she then got immediately into a turn lane for a business park that was right there on the right side of the road. So this fucker pulled in front of me, ruined my drive high, risked BOTH our lives, and then slooowwwllly pulled ooofffff the roooaaad, all "la la la" style. And she kind of glanced at me as I drove past her, with this "what did I do?" innocent-like look on her face.
It kinda made me wanna chase her down and rip her legs off her body so she couldn't do that stupid shit to anyone ever again.*
But I figure that with driving skills like that, she should be able to take care of that sort of thing herself relatively soon.
*Obviously, this is a hyperbolic statement. I wasn't that mad, nor am I anywhere near strong enough to be able to rip a human being's legs off their body. Especially because I'd bet there'd be some kicking involved on their part. That would make it much harder. And I just wanted to go home and put on pj's and curl up on the couch under a comfy blankey, so really, I was fine. I was just fired up for a moment, was all.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
In the meantime, I've been battling the first cold I've had in I don't know how long, and the symptoms keep changing every day. This winds up leading me to believe that I'm alternately getting better or getting worse, depending on the time of day. Yesterday afternoon, for example, I felt like my head was going to explode, what with all the pressure I was suddenly feeling in my sinuses. I thought for sure I was finally coming down with something treatable, like a sinus infection. But this morning, I woke up and felt better and less head explody, so I figured I was better and didn't need to contact the doctor after all. But now? I feel icky again.
Colds are stupid.
So I'm fighting it with exercise, Emergen-C and other vitamins, and as much sleep as I can get my hands on. We'll see if it's still here by week's end. (Good god, I hope not!)
I have acquired even more change from our house ghost since I last mentioned it, so that's inspired me to start a pictography of it all, which I will be posting soon. Jeffers has gotten relatively creative with his choices of location for the coins he gives us, so I started taking pictures in order to better relay the activity here on the blog. I just think it's hard to picture without a visual guide, is all. So look forward to that coming up tomorrow or Thursday.
In the meantime, send me non-cold vibes, would ya? I feel like a lump of shit...
Thursday, December 02, 2010
But, aside from the fact that I think they are waaaay overplanning on attendance, meat-wise, I also found out that they are planning on cooking the meat tomorrow.
But the potluck isn't until next Thursday.
Um, is it just me, or does that seem like a really bad idea?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
A. Stand your ground, and refuse to back up, no matter how close that Infinity asshole gets to hitting your rental SUV?
B. Back up, and move to another lane, because you figure something must be wrong or the dude in the Infinity wouldn’t just be backing up like that, right? Or…
C. Honk your horn, and flail about in response to the Infinity getting so close to your bumper, you can taste the Budget Rent-A-Car bill for damages in your mouth right then and there. And then roll your window down and lean out to tell the guy, “Dude! We’re on a TOLL ROAD! You don’t back up on a toll road, moron!” Only to have him respond in his overwhelming Chicagoan accent that the big rig is broken down…its hazards are flashing. You’re pretty sure that the big rig isn’t broken down…you can hear its engine from where you sit. But exasperated, and still being threatened by the Infinity driver’s reverse gear, you go ahead and back up since no on-coming traffic is currently on its way towards your (rented!!!!) SUV’s tail at the moment, and get yourself into the next lane over. The Infinity gets behind you.
You can go ahead and tell me what you would’ve done in my shoes, but the answer for me was C. I eventually backed up veeerrrry carefuuullllyyy, and moved over a lane. I needed to use a credit card for the toll, and I had been in one of the only cash/credit lanes initially, but the toll booth chick at the new booth took my card without issue.
The funny part of it all was when the big rig then put itself into gear, and moved on about 30 seconds after we moved over. So the Infinity moved himself back over into that lane, only to get stuck behind yet ANOTHER car (this time it was a minivan) that was having some issue paying. We were behind 2 other cars that moved through the booth we had moved to, and then we paid and got back on our way, while the Infinity guy was stuck still in his original spot, waiting for the minivan to clear up whatever issue they were having. Hahahahahahahaha! It was very hard not to wag our fingers at him and stick out our tongues as we drove away and left him in our toll road dust.
Also seen and heard this weekend on our way home from Thanksgiving festivities, both occurring on our Southwest flight home:
Lady with lots of little Louis Vuitton carry-on bags approaches the gate agent and says, “Is this first class boarding right now?”
“No, ma’am. We don’t have first class. It’s all general seating.”
Later, while on the plane, waiting for the last few stragglers to get on so we could gooooo...
Man approaches the flight attendant for help finding his seat in C58, or some shit. “Oh, no that’s not a seat assignment, sir. We have general seating. You can sit wherever there’s an empty seat!” Man looks quizzically back at flight attendant, and then walks through the plane again. I look at Leo and say, “REALLY? Good god, y’all…”
We had a great trip, thanks to fabulous family and friends that were willing to hang out with us all weekend long. Hopefully, we can do it again sometime soon! Hope everyone else had a lovely Thanksgiving.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
We do play a lot, though. I like to roll around with the puppies on our bed when I get home from work, and get them involved in a wrestling match that I can walk away from in order to change into comfy clothes for proper TV watching and general loafing. Or one of them (*eh-em*JAKE) will bring me a toy to throw while I'm sitting and watching TV with Leo after dinner. Sometimes, I think Izzy is on the very brink of death, she's been so motionless on her puppy cushion on the couch between Leo and I, but as soon as I'm holding a toy in my hand, readied for the throwing, her head is up, and her tail is wagging! Which is reassuring from time to time.
Last night, Jake was bored and brought me this multi-colored rubberband type of ball we have, and then stood there with his head resting on the couch cushion, waiting for me to reach for it (at which point we would play the "I'm gonna grab it/Jake will bite it" game where my fingers inevitably end up being the big losers), and finally I threw it down the hall for him to chase. Izzy really got into the game, and at one point, I was holding the ball waiting for her to get down off the chair she was on so she'd have a better chance of chasing it and actually getting it before Jake did (he's very fast), and she started this mad dog-like barking that totally cracked me up. I made Leo pause the TV because I was now totally paying full attention to her, and I also wanted him to join in on being entertained. "She sounds just like Mr. Puppy right now! Listen to her!" (Mr. Puppy is the Twin's dog, and is Izzy's daddy.) Leo said, "She's being possessive! She shouldn't be playing right now." I put the ball into my other hand, and reached over to pet Iz. She was totally fine with it, and gave me a lick. "Naw, she's just being SUPAH-playful, see? She's being so funny!"
In the meantime, Jake had discovered that I had the ball in my other hand, and tried to take it from me with the aforementioned biting technique. He clamped down hard, and got my middle finger (a very important finger in my repertoire!) in there, and wouldn't let go. Good GOD it hurt! I was all, "JAKE! No, puppy! Owwww! My finger is in there, dammit!" I had to physically unhook his jaw from the finger/ball with my right hand, and then he proceeded to sit and look at me with the sad puppydog look on his face. Which is so fucking cute, and which he of course has down to a science. Then we got back to our game.
I always know the game is over when Jake jumps back up onto my lap, sans ball/toy, and lays down. Izzy might pretend to be into it some more, but she lies. If Jake is done, then there is no point. I think she actually uses him to fetch for her, when it comes down to it. She rarely comes back from down the hall with the toy...she seems to prefer to attack Jake for getting it first (while he taunts her with it, of course), and then she steals it from him somehow once he gets back to home base/the couch with it.
We really should get them on more walks. But until that happens, the fetching game seems to be doing the trick. At least its fun for everyone...save my fingers. ::sigh:: Maybe I need to wear protective gloves...::ponders::
Monday, November 15, 2010
On top of that, we have the holidays coming up, and time off to manage and travel to deal with and outfits to help camouflage the enormity of my ass to plan...
It's somewhat exhausting.
My face twitching has gotten to the point where I feel like the left side of my face is constantly in some sort of land war with the right side of my face. Even the muscle relaxers I take for my back don't help at all with the face, which is surprising. I'm hoping that the time off for the holidays, along with the eventual passing of the 1 year anniverary of dad's death will help mellow everything out.
But that's about all I can do! Just hope!
These are all such teeny problems to have to deal with, really. If my body and brain could just get some perspective, maybe it wouldn't be such a DICK all the time.
In the meantime, cross your fingers that the job shit resolves in a positive way, would ya? The upper management is trying to take my current boss away from me, and if they do, I'm not so sure I want to keep working here, is the thing. So send me positive job vibes, please!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
That said, it has sucked. I learned more info this morning that helped it suck less, but we’ll see if it gets better next week, or not. I’m anticipating it working out ok…depends on how kooky my upper management team decides to be about it all.
This week has just been a shitty one, is all. I’m looking forward to the weekend and having a chance to decompress and lie around and take care of ME. Dammit. ::sigh:: Monday night, we had an unexpected visit from the house ghost, and I wound up being awake until 1:30 a.m. It wasn’t Jeffers’ fault…it was just my brain. I was asleep for about an hour, and then Leo finally went to bed and started snoring, and it woke me up. After I woke up, I just wasn’t tired anymore.
It started things off on the wrong foot, is the thing.
Jeffers was nice, though. We were reading in bed before going to sleep (we being me and Leo…not me and Jeffers! Just in case anyone was worried about that), and suddenly Leo pointed at my leg and was all, “Um…” ::points:: And I said, “What?” and looked at where he was pointing. I didn’t see anything. So I just looked back at him quizzically, and he did what he usually does which was to point more emphatically at the same spot. So I looked again, and kind of sat up a bit, and then I saw what it was. There was a quarter sitting on top of my thigh.
So I grabbed it, and looked at the date (1967? I think? Or 1965…I can’t remember. They all run together at this point), and kind of laughed it off, and added it to my drawer next to my bed, which is where I keep the other two quarters that Jeffers has “given” to me.
And then a minute later Leo goes, “Holy shit!” And pointed at my leg again. And, indeed, there was yet ANOTHER quarter! Hahahaha! This time, it was a bicentennial quarter from 1976.
So Leo is sitting there trying not to freak out, and I told him, “Hey, there could be worse things happening, right? I mean, if I wake up tomorrow buried in fucking quarters, would that be so bad? I don’t think so…” And that point seemed to settle him down, but still. He and I both expressed our desire, out loud, that the bestowing of quarters please be given a rest for a bit.
And then I was all, “Where is he getting them, anyway???” And then Leo started wondering out loud about the fact that there were sixes in all of the dates on the quarters that we’d received thus far, and if there was a connection to that. I didn’t think so, but maybe? I can’t imagine what it’d be.
We haven’t had any more money given to us the rest of this week, but one of the dog toys disappeared last week, and I expect it to turn up any day now. We’ll see. It was a red kong. I had dug it out from under the couch, where it rolled the last time we were playing with it, and was throwing it down the hallway toward our room from the couch, so Jake and Izzy could chase and fetch it. The last time I threw it, it went all the way into the bedroom, and then Jake went after it but couldn’t find it. He was over there whining for a bit, and I finally went to see where it was, but the damned thing was just totally gone. I’m pretty sure Jeffers took it! He’s such a smartass.
So when that pops up, I’ll be sure to let you all know. In the meantime, if anyone is missing any quarters, I might know where they’re at…
Monday, November 08, 2010
Does that mean I'm growing up? Or that I'm becoming a boring person? Shoooot. I dunno. You are free to judge me accordingly in the comments! (Not that I won't judge you right back. Just to warn. ;))
Saturday afternoon, Leo and I piled into my car for a little jaunt down to Springfield for dinner and drinks with some online friends I've made through the Dooce Community site. I felt it was only fair to go there to see them, as they've driven long distances for a previous get-together that was held locally here in Kansas City, so off to Springfield we went!
The night before, I had a dream that the drive only took us an hour and a half, and that the meet-up was successful (as they usually tend to be...), and good times were had by all.
Of course, the drive is more like 2.5 - 3 hours for me since I don't drive much over the speed limit, but that's ok. It's a pretty drive, particularly when it's on a nice day like we had on Saturday, so that helps a lot. Also, it's broken down into 3 different sections, which helps a bit. The first section is leaving Kansas City heading south. The second section is when you get off 71 Highway and head toward Clinton. And then the 3rd section is from Clinton to Springfield. It's a 75 mile stretch, but it's not so bad, really.
After we got off 71 Highway and headed toward Clinton, I realized I had to stop for a bathroom break. So we pulled off the highway when I saw a station that seemed to be in good shape. Pulling into the parking lot was a wee bit of a challenge, thanks to the pot holes that were in the gravel driveway, but it was a relatively rural spot, and it seemed like the majority of vehicles around there were trucks, and stuff, so I made my way as carefully as I could. There was a restaurant of some sort right next to the gas station, too. As we pulled in, a couple of guys were getting out of their big ol' truck, wearing full camo gear. Pants, hats, jackets...whole nine yards. I was all, "We're in huntin' country now, Leo!"
No joke, because there were around 3 cars in the gas station lot, and they, too, had people in them that were in various camo gear. I felt a little out of place, but I also had to pee. So in we went. (Not that the camo was a deterent of any kind. I'm just not used to seeing so much of it all in one place. I really, really am a city/suburb girl. What can I say?)
I took longer than Leo, and met him out at the register where he was in line behind yet another dude in a big camo jacket. He was throwing money down and trying to get out the door, but the store clerk called after him, "Hey! I said $1.63. This is only $1.45!" So the guy came back and threw down another quarter after searching his pockets, and then said, "Is that good?" And then scooted out the front door. (Without his change...:/)
I was struck by the fact that he apparently didn't know how to count out change, but Leo was snickering because he had bought some big bottle of malt liquor called "Earthquake", and he had his own judgments he was making internally about the guy. The whole picture was brought together perfectly when we saw the guy head out to help the woman he was with (his girlfriend? His sister? Who knows...she was wearing a matching camo jacket just like his, though) roll back the ATV they were traveling around on so they could get it properly kick-started. It took a few tries. And then they were on their way as we headed back out to our car.
It was just a very colorful illustration of what true country life is like, if you ask me. A quick 10 minutes of life that made me appreciate the little things, like knowing math. And not knowing what "Earthquake" is or what it tastes like.
Later, as we returned home on a dark highway out of Springfield and came across our first deer carcass on the side of the road, I had a different appreciation for those folks in camo clothing way out there in the boonies. And I wished they'd step up their game, dammit! I immediately froze up. Leo made a joke about how much damage something like that could do to us. Sometimes, boys are just stupid, you know? I slowed from the allowed 70 MPH speed to about 60 MPH, and tried to keep from hyperventilating. Leo tried telling me he was just kidding! It didn't matter. It wasn't what he was saying that was getting to me (although it wasn't helping), it was the fact that I drive a car that doesn't technically belong to me now. And the idea of slamming front first into a stupid animal about half it's size wasn't exactly my idea of a treat, dammit! He kept trying to calm me down, and I finally asked him to just. stop. talking.
About 2 miles later, still totally alone on the road in the stretch we were in, we came across what can only be described as a massacre of some poor young deer.
Guys, it was so disgusting, and I was trying to go around the parts, but it was hard to avoid it all, and the entire time Leo was just quiet while I was literally screaming like a cartoon character, is the only way I can think to describe it. And then we finally came upon the actual carcass, which had somehow been pushed off the side of the road. Not that it mattered. I'm pretty sure I drove over/around/through legs, stomach, and other assorted pieces of it prior to getting to the body.
I was quiet for a moment after we passed it, my face frozen into a look of horror that I was finding it hard to relax from. And then Leo, for some reason still thinking he was making things better by talking said, "I'm sure that was from a big rig hitting it, or something." And I somehow found a way to make my voice work as I said, "You need. to. STOP. TALKING. PLEASE."
Every once in a while, I would allow myself to creep back up to a speed of about 65 MPH, but then I'd have a terrible flashback to what we'd just seen 5, 10, 15 minutes before, and I'd slow back down again. And I had to keep my eyes constantly moving, moving, moving across the road while managing to still peripherally scan the side of the road for anything that might be running towards us from the brush. I was clutching the wheel and crouched so hard in my unmoving clenched position that I had to silently tell myself over and over that I needed to relax...I'd have better reflexes if I would reeelaaaaax. But then a few minutes later, I'd find myself all tensed back up again, and have to go through the process all over again.
I felt a little better after we passed through Clinton. We stopped for a bathroom break, and I grabbed a small Diet Coke (fountain! YAY!), and felt a little refreshed and better after successfully traveling a good 50 miles without seeing another deer carcass.
But I can't help but wonder if that damned deer wasn't the reason why I was rethinking my posting about the people in camouflage that we saw. I mean, if that dude can't make proper change, and wants to finish his day off with 40 ounces of some crazy-ass malt liquor or another, I don't truly care. As long as he wakes up the next day, or what have you, and goes out and kills those poor deer in a more humane manner than what we were witness to. That's all that matters to me now. ::shudders::
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Because y'all know how much I love people. :/
Today, though, searching through the Anthropologie hats for the one that would make me happiest, I found a fedora I liked, and checked out the customer ratings and accompanying comments for tips on how good it is in person. Here's the hat I was looking at:
And some of the comments from people who've bought it and seen it in person:
"One side of the hat was straight, the other bent, and it fit very crookedly and oddly. Adorable hat, horrible fit."
"As soon as I saw this hat online, I knew I had to have it. When i recieved it I was very disappointed. It is a beautiful hat but it is designed wierdly. One side of the hat bends and the other is straight. The flowers were beautiful but it just didn't look right. I was so sad to have to return in to the store."
Uummm...it's a fedora. Do people not know what a fucking fedora is*? REALLY? It is supposed to be straight on one side, and curled up on the other! THAT is, by design, what makes a fedora a fedora!!!
I can't leave responses to their comments online, without ordering the hat myself. Some people seem to get the fact that it's supposed to sit kind of tipsy-like on your head. But these other folks who think it's some sort of defect? Have they seriously never seen a fucking fedora before?See, I think I escape the stupid by shopping from the comfort of my chair. But no. No, I don't. ::sigh::
*And for those of you who read this here blog, and didn't know what a fedora was before now, just FYI, it's like the hat Indiana Jones wears in the movies. You're welcome. :P
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
But now that I think further on it, I did bully...I bullied the Twin. She was the pretty one, with clear skin and non-developed boobs, and who didn't have to worry about her weight. I stopped using her real name early on - probably when we were 10, or so - and I started calling her "Ugly". It felt weird going back to calling her by her real name when we got older, and I didn't do it until she told me that I was hurting her feelings by calling her Ugly all the time. I think we were 17 by then. Or maybe 18, even. We were in therapy together, I know that. (I think.)
Anyway, the discussion we were having on the message board fell into a "how's the best way to handle bullying" from a parent perspective. A couple of people had parents get involved for them, and it didn't go well. I think I was the longest bullied kid in my family, thanks to my super genes that gave me C-cup boobs at age 11, along with a great big fat ass, AND a need for glasses. Oh, and let's not forget the cystic acne.
Basically, I was a walking pre-teen joke, ok? Ok. Moving on...
Being that my twin was pretty and thin, and we were oddities thanks to our twinness, I was still relatively popular. Also, I was a likeable kid, as ugly as I was. I had always been pretty outgoing, and having the ugly branch of the family tree thrown at me the way it was, I learned to develop my personality outside of my looks. Not on purpose, really. It just happened. So I was friendly and generally in a good mood when I was around people I wasn't related to. That made me likeable, I guess.
But when it came to the actual bullying I was faced with (and I think the Twin got some of it, too, just because we were kind of a team when we were in school together), I had to learn to fend for myself. My mom didn't intervene for me. But I do remember mom, along with my older brother and sisters, giving me some ideas for come-backs for the nasty comments that I got. Unfortunately, they were always after the fact, but they made me laugh. And discussing the bullying at home and receiving support like that from my family helped a lot, thinking back on it.
I can't remember a lot of the interactions that I had when it came to the bullying now that I'm grown. Just one or two specific incidents remain in my memory, and I guess I'm grateful for that. And I never will have kids, so I'm dodging the "how do we deal with it as a parent" bullet there, I suppose.
What do you guys think about the bullying thing? Do you agree with me that the ones that are doing the bullying seem to not get bullied themselves? At least, in school they don't. Maybe they're reacting to the way they're treated elsewhere, like at home, or by a coach or something. But as far as the peer bullying, in my experience, they're generally the ones that have it all, and for some reason, they feel a need to rub your nose in it.
If you have a kid that's popular in school, what will you do/what do you do to ensure they aren't bullying?
Monday, November 01, 2010
So I replied, "No cigarette," in the same manner.
A second passed and then..."Cigarette." Said in the same way it was the first time. And now I started giggling. "NO cigarette!" I replied.
Then he went back to incoherent mumbling, and then it stopped all together. It was funny. I know he still dreams about smoking, but he doesn't usually chat about it.
Cigarette no longer looks like a word, btw. I hate it when that happens!
We went to Extra Virgin on Friday for our anniversary dinner, and had a really, really lovely time! Food was great, and the service was equally wonderful. Michael Smith came over to say goodbye as we left, and made sure everything went well while we were there. I thought that was nice of him. I look forward to heading down there again sometime to try other dishes that we didn't get a chance to taste. They have a pretty decent happy hour that I'd love to take advantage of, but it depends on whether we could get down there before 6 p.m. Regardless, we'll be heading back there for sure.
That's about it for this Monday. Life is pretty boring and mundane and consists of things like watching The Tudors on DVD (we're up to the 6th wife, finally, and Henry's on his last leg - literally!), working out and shopping for groceries, and cleaning up/winterizing the yard. I know...it's like we're rockstars, yo. Supah-exciting...
Friday, October 29, 2010
My 2 and a half month old car has a scratch on it.
I just went to get it cleaned today, since it had a little bit of grime and dust built up on it from the past few weeks of random weather, and as I finished up my little review-walk-around thing when the dudes were done drying it, and the one guy that was walking with me said, "It's a good-looking car. It's a new G35, right?" And I said, "G37X, actually..." and stopped short, because I saw something fishy right behind my driver side door. So we looked at it closer, and the guy was all, "Looks like a door was opened into it." And I sighed, and said, "2 months. 2 freaking months, dude." And he just shook his head, and said, "Aw, that's a bummer!" And then he wished me a good weekend, and I climbed in and drove away.
People are such assholes. Or, in this case, probably someone's kids are assholes since the line-up of the scratch goes more with a passenger door on a 4-door car, in my estimation, and we all know how much regard I have for children and their stupidness. Or maybe someone who carpooled to lunch one day and sat in someone's backseat and then got out of the car in the work garage was an asshole. I dunno. But regardless, asshole. I take great care when I get in and out of my car so that my door doesn't touch the car next to me. Our parking spots at work aren't super-generous, so I have a lot of practice with it. And I guess I just wish, in my heart of hearts, that the people parking around me would have the same common sense about it all.
But there it is. The first scratch. (And teeny, tiny dent, I might add. It's not too terrible, though...) Had to happen sometime, right?
Happy weekend, everyone! You watch those doors now, alright? ;)
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Honestly, we're just a good match. I was talking to a coworker the other day about how we deal with disagreements in our house, and I had to sit there and think about it. And then I said, "We don't have disagreements. Because I'm generally right...so that helps." But then I continued, "Really, though, we just don't disagree on much. We have the same taste in stuff, and that seems to go a long way!"
We do fight. We do. We're human...shit makes us unhappy. It gets sorted out either the old fashioned way (i.e. with me retreating to my own space where I sulk and tell him to leave. me. alone.), or with a little humor and sarcasm, depending on how bad the fight is. But generally, things get resolved, and we're happy and back to normal within a few hours.
I can't help but wonder how it is he sees himself with me for the rest of our lives though. I just don't know how he does it! I'm grateful for his tenacity, though. The man is a fortress when it comes to putting up with mood swings, dry wit, and general evilness. That is how I know he is meant for me.
So tonight we'll raise a glass to tenacity, wit, fortitude, and future happiness...and put our hopes out there that we'll have the opportunity to live long lives together, experiencing new places, new people, and new things along the way. Because, God help him, I do love that man. :)
Monday, October 25, 2010
Anyway, we're celebrating our anniversary this week - woohoo! - and while we'll be eating in on the actual date, we're going out in high falutin style on Friday night. But I wanted to get opinions on where we should go before I made the reservation. A recommendation for Michael Smith came from a random bar patron who overheard our discussion about it on Saturday night. And I thought YES! Michael Smith! I've been wanting to go there for a while!
But then I looked at the Extra Virgin menu (also owned by Micheal Smith, btw), and dammit, there's a lot of tasty sounding stuff on there!
So what say you, readers? Even if you aren't from KC, go check out those menus, and tell me what you would do if you were me! Please? As, like, an anniversary gift? ::puppydog eyes::
Friday, October 22, 2010
I mean, it hasn't been all that bad for ME, anyway. The bunny that Jake killed with a whip of it's neck right after it screamed when it was caught this morning at 4 a.m. in our yard? Probly not such a good day for that little guy. (Or for Leo...since he had to clean it up once the sun came out! He's such a nice husband.) Poor sad-ass bunnies. ::shaking head:: The scary part was when I went out to make sure that the barking, herding, and screaming I heard wasn't a repeat of the night when Jake met a possum, and I shined a light out into the yard, all I could see was something large with shining eyes by the back fence, Jake going back and forth between the shining-eyed thing and something that was laying still that I couldn't identify from the distance I was keeping, and Izzy just looking at me with a relief like, "Oh thank GOD you're here! I thought I was gonna have to pretend to be interested in this bullshit!" as she trotted past me and back up onto the deck. Jake wouldn't abandon whatever it was that he had found, though. I called to him and stood my ground, and eventually he made his way over.
I looked back out to that large thing with the shining eyes once I was back in the house, and it was still there, but it was moving at that point. So I knew it wasn't dead. And then later, it was gone. It was too large to be a rabbit. Leo thinks it was a possum, but I would be surprised by that after the last encounter the dogs had with one in the yard. They just seem much more aggressive than this thing was being. Maybe it was freaked out by the rabbit scream? I'm not sure. But whatever it was, it was large, it was lighter in color, and it stood still and unblinking for a relatively long time when I was holding my flashlight beam on it. ::shudders:: I hate wild animals!
Anyway, this whole week has been emotionally draining, though, and at times physically draining, like when I was tired on Tuesday night and went to bed at 10:15. But then laid there. And laid there. And laid there some more, until it was about 1:30 and I finally took some Benadryl to help me along. (I also tried opening the window to cool the room down, reading some more, and lots of huffing and puffing and "WTF, brain?! Lemme SLEEP already"ing, but that all got me absolutely nowhere. It sucked!) And then Wednesday was just about the worst day EVAR for my poor boss, and I had to rush around a bit to help clear his schedule so he could deal with the shittiness that is A Teenage Child in Personal Crisis Mode. And it was just tiring, y'all.
And can I just take a moment to say HALLEFUCKINGLUJIA for not being back in that world again, dammit. Phew! Being 17/18 was HARD. I wouldn't repeat it again for all the meatball subs in the world!
(I was gonna say "for all the tea in China" but then I realized that while I like tea well enough, it's not really a big bargaining chip for me personally because I don't like it THAT much. So meatball subs it was...)
(And also, "for all the tea in China" is a weird saying. My mom used to say it. I don't get it...)
This weekend should be mellow, and allow me to catch up on some sleep and relaxation, so hopefully next week will be a better one. Hope everyone has a great weekend!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
I freaking LOVE that place. It's where I go when I want to splurge on lunch. It's where Leo and I go when we want to splurge on sushi dinner. I'm so sad they won't be there anymore! ::cries::
I sent a letter to their corporate office this morning suggesting that maybe they should just move instead of closing all together? Because I have been waiting for a decent sushi option to move closer to my house for years, and it would be awesome if I had something like Sushi House in The Village, or even over at Corinth at 83rd and Mission. I went to grab lunch there today, and talked to the host who was helping me with my order, and let him know that I made that suggestion in an email. He told me that I was, like, the 7th person to suggest that idea this week. He hopes that the email will help, somehow. I know it's a reach, but I figured it couldn't hurt to try!
But in the mean time, I'll just be eating there all freaking week, I guess. Gotta get my fill while I can!
It's so weird that negotiations on leases fall through at all these days. I mean, unless they were asking for something really unreasonable, why the hell would the landlord just be willing to let them walk away like this? My family owns and manages property in California and Nevada. We don't like losing long term leasers, so in this economy especially, if they come to us asking for help with their terms, we try to work with them on it. Because less money is still better than none at all, you know?
Oh well. Best wishes, Sushi House! You will be missed. :(
Thursday, October 14, 2010
I mean, who DOES that sort of thing, anyway???
I took the question to the Dooce Community board, and a lively discussion (and handy tips for future cases of stolen food) was had, so that helped a little.
Also, at about lunchtime, I found out I wasn't the only victim. Another coworker had a whole bag in the fridge with her lunch in it that she'd brought in on Tuesday, but planned to eat on Wednesday. When she went in there yesterday, she discovered that a cookie was missing.
Unbelieveable. So this food thief dug through people's stuff in the fridge looking for something that sounded good? C'MON! That's just icky.
I put up a note on the fridge, I guess because it made me feel empowered after being the victim of a food thief, or something, but nothing came of it. It basically said that the canteloupe cost me $4, and as I had eaten such a small amount of it, whoever took it owed me $3.50, in my estimation. It was gone this morning, but a coworker had left a response note on my desk saying, "Faith, I'm hungry! Please restock the fridge when you get the chance! :)" Hahahaha! Love it!
Has this ever happened in your office? WTF did you do about it, if anything?
Monday, October 11, 2010
Good googly moogly…give ME a break! :P
I had a rough incident that happened over the weekend that’s still kind of weighing heavy on my mind today. I don’t know how to handle it. Basically, an old friend, someone I’ve known for 6 years, spazzed out on me on Saturday night by yelling at me and pretty much just treating me like a pile of shit.
It made me cry. We had just arrived at the bar to hang out for a bit before heading to a party at a friend’s house, and I was only a sip into the beer I’d ordered, but I went ahead and paid for our drinks, and high-tailed it out of there. I didn’t want to keep crying, and had I stayed there, I’m sure that would’ve been the case.
What caused the incident? My friend didn’t want to change one of the 3 TV’s above the bar to the Notre Dame game. I was surprised, mostly because he was gruff with us right off the bat when we asked, but I suggested to Leo that we just move to a table instead. Then the friend said it was fine to change one of the TV’s (even though he didn't sound fine with it, and I even went as far as to ask him if he was ok?), and he started to get up and go to the patio for some reason (he often gets up and wanders over to look out the window while we’re hanging out together), but came back after a second and sternly said RIGHT in my ear, “And I’ll tell you what: if I’m going to come down here and watch football, I will watch whatever goddammed game I want to! Got it?” And then walked away and went outside.
I was stunned. I looked around for a moment, and then I couldn’t help it: I burst into tears. Yeah, it was a total girly moment, but that’s just how my brain/body reacts to someone talking to me like that, apparently! It was completely out of the blue, unprovoked, and unnecessary.
This person is known for his mood swings, but this? This was off the charts.
Frankly, I don’t want to be friends with him anymore if this is how it’s going to be. Fuck. That. Noise.
The fun part? He has no clue that he did anything wrong. Or that’s how he’s playing it off to our mutual friends. Leo and I returned to the bar later to talk to our bartender friend about it. She said that he admitted to snapping at people easier than usual as of late. I was all, “This was beyond snapping, though. He acted like I’d dug up the corpse of his father and had sex with it!” She said that he apparently didn’t realize that he’d been as mean as that. I was all, “Oh, so me bursting into tears, and then leaving the bar 10 minutes after arriving wasn’t a clue that he’d done something to freak me out???” Nope. Guess not!
I don’t know what else to do except avoid all contact with the guy. I don’t want to see him again, because I just cannot put up with the nastiness for no reason anymore. And I know I come off as being a pretty moody person myself when it comes to my writing here on the blog, but let me assure you: my moods are normal…my moods are nonexistent when compared to this guy. And it’s just getting worse as he gets older, and shuts himself off more from the world outside Prairie Village. It’s sad. I’ve tried to convince him to look into online dating (he broke up with his last girlfriend around 3 years ago, and hasn’t dated since then), or to go on a trip, or something, but he seems content to just get more and more miserable. And I’m sorry, but I can’t stand that kind of self-loathing. It’s beyond my comprehension, which is saying a LOT, since I’ve gone through some very moody periods of time in my life with little interaction with anyone outside of my family or coworkers. But if he’s at the point where he gets pissed at one of his only friends he has left for absolutely no. reason. at all? He needs help I clearly can’t give him.
If anyone has any pointers or suggestions as to what they would do if they were me, please share.
And please..if you could do it without yelling at me, I’d greatly appreciate it! :(