Ghetto Princess

When does it really start being you?

2010-02-22T21:28:00.003-06:00

I've been contemplating this for awhile now - and I'm going to make every attempt not to make this a bitter, angry, rant. I said I wouldn't do that anymore and I want it to stay that way. That said, a person can only take so much nonsense until they just either 1) give up 2) break completely.

I'd personally rather not be in either camp - I think I'm better than that, however, it's hard when judgements against you are so personal.

I've held a lot of jobs. It's not because I'm someone who can't hold a job, or gets bored and leaves. It's generally a matter of circumstance: company changed management and therefore ideals and company structure, it was only temporary to begin with (see: internships, seasonal - summer work), I moved, I moved again, company was bought out.

Then this started to happen:
bar tending - mismanagement led to frustration, led to anger about job, led to me leaving

el banko - management ceased allowing me to make decisions about my career, led to frustration, led to anger, led to being stuck in a position I didn't want, led to endless talks about under performing - led to more frustration - led to me leaving.

Now this.

Sure it's only a part time gig - but sometimes those part time gigs are what allows you to buy that pint of Ben and Jerry's you could otherwise afford. Or what lets you take your puppy to the vet that you otherwise couldn't do. Sometimes a part time job is a very big deal when considering your check book.

But when do you throw in the towel? When has it become more YOU and less THEM? How do you know the difference?

A few weeks ago I was told some pretty horrific things by my manager. It was completely inappropriate and extremely unprofessional. Was it true? I don't know. I felt completely betrayed, confused and hurt. I essentially went through all the symptoms of loss. I was given a week to think about it.

Upon my return it felt like going into battle. Who was against me? How would I know? What was true and who could I trust? I had, and still have, apparently, no idea. I did, I thought, at least make an effort to keep certain attitudes in check, continue to be friendly with co-workers and members, and generally do my job and keep my mouth shut.

Still not good enough - once again I found myself in an office - door closed - face to face with my manager. Was it handled better? Sure... but there were the accusations again. Nothing had improved. Nobody wants to work with me and if they weren't telling me before it's because they are "chicken shit". I'm on a tight leash and one misstep would be my complete down fall. "It's only a matter of time."

So I'm being set up to fail? No...

How is that not being set up to fail? Waiting for someone to make their next "mistake"? How is it not expecting complete and total failure when it's your word (which at this point might as well be coming from that guy sentenced to prison for crimes against humanity) against all these mysterious people who want to bring you down?

When did what I have to say stop mattering and more importantly why?

"You've changed, you're not the same person you were a year ago." "You aren't the person we hired" "Maybe you're just a harder person now"

I don't think any of this validates what are apparently, non-stop co-worker complaints. Who are these people that have so much time on their hands that they can sit down with the manager of their part-time job and complain about someone they work with for 2-3 hours at a time? Do I have people I could complain about? Sure. I don't have that kind of time, nor do I care.

I've never been in the interest of gunning for someone to be fired. Clearly some people are.

But now, after three jobs of complete frustration and road-blocks, do I just accept that it IS me after all? Or do I chalk it up to bad situations, bad decisions, bad times, and put it all behind me?

It's easy to start being paranoid when nothing you've done for the last two years has been good enough. How is that even possible? How have I spent my whole life to this point striving to succeed, and doing just that, to just...not. How have I taken an active interest in helping others succeed only to have the "others" allegedly turn on me?

Nothing is making sense.

Perhaps it's time to cut my losses and move on - completely close that chapter in my life and just breath that sign of relief and terror. Relief that it's finally over...and terror that's IT'S OVER.

I'm not a quitter - and it takes a LOT to drive me to that decision. Usually it's because I'm determined to prove everyone wrong. There are no easy answers, and there probably will never be an ideal time to make that decision. Those things rarely align.

I think ultimately, once those people have made up their minds to bring you down, no matter how strong you are, and no matter how hard you fight against it, sometimes it's not enough. Is it right? No. Is it moral? No. How do you know when enough is enough? When do you chalk all this up to coincidence and a bad two year span, write the final chapter and call it a day?

It's really too bad there isn't a vaccine for this

2010-02-22T14:33:00.002-06:00

Cabin fever. It's hitting eveyrone pretty hard right about now - and it's complete understandable. What's not understandable (or even forgivable) is how this is making people act towards each other. Especially while going about their business in public.

At my second job, I have to **gasp** interact with the public. I know. Most of the time it's pretty ok - but then the cabin fever sets in and all bets are off. This is particularily true since this place has multiple activites for the whole family to partake in all in one spot; especially helpful when it's been gray, cloudy, bitterly cold, depressing, and why won't it stop snowing already?? Esentially, though, once there, nobody (except us employees) want to go home.

I get it - during this particular part of the year I feel quite lucky I don't have to just sit.....at home....staring....watching the snow....watching more TV....whatever it is that people do when the "fever" hits. This doesn't mean I want to be at my second job all the waking hours I am not at my JOB job. No. We have set hours for a reason.

Which brings me to the most interesting phenonon of people going about their business whilt in the hight of the "fever". Aside from the general rudness, there is this complete lack of willingness to believe in the facts. Facts like - closing time.

I can certainly understand, was this a brand 'spankin new place, fully of shiny new things and people, not yet having a grasp on the hours of business. However, this place has been around since before I was born. Most of the people that come to this place have been coming here since before I was born. So there's no excuse for this temporary amnesia. Well, you know, except for the "fever".

Here is an example of a typically conversation I had with people on Saturday - on which day our closing time is 7pm:

Fever Victim: So you're open 'till 9 then?

Me: No, 7 tonight.

FV: Not 9?

Me: No

FV: Really? 7 huh?

Me: Yep

FV: Are you sure it's not 9?

Me: Pretty sure. Friday is 9.

FV: **tries to get me to magically change closing time with the 'sad eyes'**

Me: **reminds FV that I have other things to do with the 'tired eyes'**

FV: **sigh** Ok...so 7?

Me: Yes - 7pm.

Fv: **mopes off sadly**

Then a scene from actual closing time:

Me: **heads towards basketball courts - two young boys are shooting around while one of their father's watches. Proceed to check for stray basketballs and then pauses for a minute to see exactly how long this game will last**

Me (again): **realizes this isn't going to stop. Presense has no effect** Uh - are you almost done?

Everyone in Gym: **boys continue to shoot baskets. Father continues to stare**

Me: I'm shutting off the lights....

Everyone in Gym: **can this this kind of registers but is unpleasant so continues to ignore**

Me: We're closing - light? Off.

Father: **stirs to life!** Oh! What time do you close?

Me: 7

Father: Not 9??

Me:.....No....and I'm shutting the lights off now

Father: Well what time is it?

Me: 7...?

Boys: **Continue to shoot - although they hear the entire exchange**

Me: Ok so - lights off then!

Boys: **Discuss how to play a new shooting game**

Me: Seriously! Lights! Off! Now!

Everyone in Gym: Finally amble to the door.

The moral here is - I don't know what is it other than this post got riducliously long thus proving how much of the "fever" I have. Did you read this whole thing? Then you probably have it too.

Maybe Rabbi's just don't know how to love

2010-02-12T12:40:00.002-06:00

We all know that the next holiday which Hallmark has approve of us to celebrate is Valentine's Day. Since today is Friday the 12th, you will most likely be wishing people a very happy Valentine's Weekend.

Or so you thought...

In my current job I have almost daily contact with a Rabbi in New York and today was no exception. I had sent him a request in an e-mail, to which he proptly replied. However his closing kind of threw me for a loop:

"Have a Good Presidents' Day Weekend"

Uh....Well I guess I can have a good of those as well. Seeing as I don't really have a sweetheart this year, then I guess I'll go ahead and take my Presidents' Day Weekend and run with it!

Just When You Thought Maybe Your Life Wasn't So Boring Afterall

2010-02-04T14:12:00.004-06:00

I was in a pretty good mood yesterday - well aside from the fact that I was unable to attend one of my kickboxing classes (seriously, if I don't get to punch something twice a week...well pretty much all bets are off). On the way home I started composing what I thought would have been a fairly spectacular (if I do say so myself) post.

It was going to be more like a work in progress until my birthday in August. You know, kind of like a "look how far I've come" type deal. I was getting pretty excited about it - I felt like for my age I've done some fairly cool stuff, seen some fairly cool stuff, and survived some fairy crazy stuff. Basically I thought I had a decent retrospective on my hands that would be at least somewhat amusing.

So I thought....

Then I read this and thought - mmaaaaaaybe notsomuch.

You guys - the woman who writes this blog is amazing. Everyday she had amazing experiences with her son in NY. She's probably not much older than me and she's just gotten to do things I can't even imagine. This particular post is about the indy record/clothing/dance club/coffee shop she opened at age 21.

At age 21 I was still in collage, I'd done an internship with the Peninsula Music Festival , which I still think is amazing, and then graduated and headed back up north to work at a theatre. A little ho-hum in comparison.

I still think my experiences are special and I believe that there are a few people out there who might think they are pretty amazing and might think I've been the one out there doing amazing stuff. I think I have.

It's 9:15am and I'm learning lessons like a Mofo

2010-02-02T09:15:00.003-06:00

This is classic me - and I should rename this whole thing Idiot Savant. I mean really.

Here's the thing:

Funds right now, as for most people, are tight. They were really bad last month when I was actually hired on as a permanent employee. Which - hardly makes any sense I know, but trust me. It's completely no fun be getting paid every week and then suddenly have to wait almost an entire month, with only half a paycheck, to be paid again, to get you on the "regular" schedule.

Well I don't like "regular".

Don't get me wrong, I'm NOT (emphasis on the NOT) complaining about being employed and (eventually) having money, but the transition has been a shock.

Due to the realllly tight fundage, I've had to make some adjustments. Mainly in the food area of my life. Mainly in that, I don't get to buy any.

Obviously I just can't not eat (if you don't believe me ask the Best Friend, trust me. Hungry and me? DO NOT WORK) so I bought the two things that seem to have some staying power: eggs and potatoes.

Do you have any idea the power of those two foods?

Amazing is what it is.

I believe that after this whole crazy time is over, I'll write a cookbook using pretty much just eggs and potatoes. However, lesson one will have to be how to cook those potatoes in oil and not burn the ever-loving crud out of them. I have quite a lovely picture on my phone actually.

So I was getting along - eggs, potatoes and me. Then, of course, "your car registration is due" What?? Of COURSE IT IS. This is me we're talking about here.

Well, being stretched as I already was, parting with another completely unplanned $76was, to say the least, like trying to take candy from a toddler - I put up a good fight but in the end was too weak to shield my money from the powers that be at the DMV.

SO!

Once again I found myself with all my bills paid - yay! - but now with a whole host of new problems. The dog has no food, and I have no gas.

Dilemmas.

Back in the day when I was housing my two completely insane cats, I would have fed them soup and/or cereal for a few days and they would have LIKED it until I could get some funds and buy them proper food.

Not so much with dogs. Also - I'm slightly unwilling to share my potatoes and eggs with him.

Dog food is expensive when it's a choice between a $7 bag of food for your DOG...and getting gas money to drive to your JOB for MONEY for food for your dog.

I briefly considered buying high end treats ($3!!) and cutting them up.

I took the high road - and Mr. Fairfield (that's what I call my dog), got food and I was left with $8 for gas to drive 20 minutes to work (40 round trip) for three days.

Since I've found myself in this same position last month I knew that ain't no $8 gonna get me to work for three days. Not unless it turns into that magic oil that could last for 8 days. No way.

Lucky me I had to work at the PT job and - voila! I got a tip! Now I had $9!!

So I found myself at the gas station before work, and put my whopping $9 of gas in my dead-empty tank. Which, not surprisingly, did not go that far. Not far at all. Not even a true 1/2 tank.

At this point I completely lose my mind and all my hard-earned poor people lessons and basically throw in the towel. Which leads me to writing the most ridiculous e-mail to my manager about possibly working from home, which I know she doesn't like in the first place. Just - I mean - really? Who does this stuff happen to?

I finally get my manager's response approving it - yay? Which is when I finally remember the most important lesson I've ever been told:

Kwik Trip still takes checks - good 'ole checks, not run electronically. Like - they take them to the bank to be deposited and it takes a good two days.

What's wrong with me? I guess instead of writing this I should be writing post-its to place around my car reminding me about Kwik Trip. It might look a little schizophrenic - SURE! At least I wouldn't have to write crazy - poor-house e-mails anymore.

I've also decided while I'm writing my eggs and potatoes cookbook, I'll set to write another book - a guide if you will - on how to be poor. I'll probably make it pocket sized for easy reference while on the go.

Lesson One: Kwik Trip takes checks for gas - so stop writing the humiliating e-mail to your manager!

Bonus Photo Post!

2010-01-31T16:22:00.013-06:00

What seems like a million years ago now - I planned, what I maintain, was the best, most fabulous bridal shower, EVAR. Really. It knocked my own socks off. I can't take all the credit, however, since I was being a complete Maidzilla (this would be the Maid of Honor equivalent of a Bridezilla), the completely NON-Bridezilla Bride, reeled me back in and helped me get all the final details polished up and finished off.

Here are the pink-tabulous results.

The Beginning - practicing my piping for the cupcakes.

The Tools

The Whole Sha-Bang

Diiiaaaaamooondsss!!

Cupcakes!

A Little Bit of Everything

Get out the Swiffer - It's Dusty in Here

2010-01-31T16:08:00.003-06:00

**tap, tap** Ahem! **tap** Hello? Anyone out there? **tap, tap**. **COUGH** Whew! Dusty in here eh? Oh! And look! Some cobwebs in the corner there. So, I'm back? I"m not sure if anyone cares, but, enough procrastinating is enough I think. This feels a little...awkward.

I want to re-dedicate myself to this blog. Mainly for selfish reasons, obviously. I love writing, and I loved the idea that I may be entertaining someone - even if it is only one person. Maybe two? Unfortunately, it's easy to lose focus, especially when everything else is in chaos and keeping one more thing on your plate seems completely unnecessary.

It is necessary though.

It's not because it's necessary to believe that there's people out there that are just waiting everyday for a new post to come up, to read the next mundane thing that happened in your life; but it's fun and it's creative and....well....why not?

I start this thing, and I don't think that it's ready to die. Not yet.

I have a million excuses - sure. My camera is on the fritz, I've moved twice in less than a month, I changed jobs, I got a dog, the dog NEEDS me.

I need this blog.

I'm hoping to start to maintain some focus, and I'm hoping for a fresh start.

So - if you were reading this - I'm asking for my second chance. If you weren't - I'm hoping that maybe you'll start. Doesn't have to be regular. But...you know...check in....see what's up. Maybe you'll find something you like. Even if you don't maybe you'll find something you weren't looking for but are glad you found.

With that - welcome back ..... and welcome!

Please - let me share this delightful insanity with you.

2009-11-06T22:35:00.004-06:00

As you may or may not be aware I was fortunate enough to have to leave my beautiful old house near the river and go live with....MY MOM. Awesome. Now, I'm not going to complain too much, because without my mom's willingness to take in her 28 year old daughter, I'd have to live in my two door car. Which....really awesome.

The sad part is, my mom and I have a long history of....um....getting into multiple altercations. Which, I'm sure to the outside world can be quite colorful. I've decided to share some of the most recent conversations we've had. Keep in mind tthese actually happened.

Scene One:
SETTING: The Best Friend's House
CONVERSATION MODE: Telephone
WHEN: Two days after moving out of the house I was sharing with the Ex.

MOM: Oh, so I forgot to tell you that we don't actually have the Internet at the house

ME: I'm sorry...what? Because I'm pretty sure I made it quite clear that was one of the major things that I REQUIRE, especially since I have 8 hours of work to make up which, incidentally requires the Internet.

MOM: Well can't you go back to where you were and use it?

ME: What? Where? The house I just moved out of?? As in, the one containing NO furniture and the Ex?

MOM: What? Are you scared?

ME: Uh...yeah?

(Note: the night I decided to leave he got so intoxicated he couldn't stand and when he finally could he stood in our kitchen and said "I feel like....I feel like burning things. I feel like burning...BABIES" and proceeded to punch our PLASTER walls)

MOM: Oh...well then I don't know what you're going to do

ME: We're done talking now.

Scene Two:
SETTING: Kitchen in my mom's house
CONVERSATION MODE: In person
WHEN: Two weeks before Halloween

ME: Holy crap! I want to carve pumpkins!!

GARY (mom's husband): Yeah, me too.

ME: That would be so great. I was so excited to have a house to put them out in front of and now...gone.

GARY: We can carve pumpkins.

MOM: ....Well....are you going to be here?

ME: What?

MOM: Are you going to be here?

ME: For what?

MOM: To hand out candy??

ME: Eh?? What are you talking about?? I just want to carve pumpkins...and put them on the porch. It's what you do.

MOM: Well what do you want to do with them?

ME: I don't understand. I don't want to do anything with them. I just want to carve them and put them on the porch where they go.

MOM: And then what?

ME: And then put candles in them??

MOM: So are you going to be here then for the candy?

ME: We're done talking now.

**The rest of the conversation was Gary and me just kind of staring in puzzled confusion. We honestly just wanted to carve pumpkins. I have no idea what this had to do with passing out candy. None**

Scene Three:
SCENE: Parking lot and entryway of grocery store
CONVERSATION MODE: Phone
WHEN: Wednesday night

MOM: Where are you

ME: At the store

MOM: Well are you on the way back?

ME: What do you mean? You just watched me pull out of the driveway like 8 seconds ago. I can't possibly be on the way back already

MOM: Well I just didn't know

ME: Ok....

MOM: So....you want to park in the garage?

ME: No...that's ok. It's more hassle since I don't have an opener.

MOM: Well you can just wake me up.

ME: No really, it's fine.

MOM: Well I should get up

ME: That's crazy..nobody NEEDS to get up at 6:30am. Especially just to close the garage door.

MOM: Well then I can have Gary call me.

ME: Uh...really, it's not that big a deal.

MOM: Well...ok then. Are you coming back?

ME: When I'm done at the store.

** 30 minutes later**
SCENE: Back at my mom's house
CONVERSATION MODE: In person

MOM: I've decided something.

ME: Yeah?

MOM: Yeah...I'm going to handle your finances?

ME: Really?

MOM: Yeah...I think you should give me your money and I'll take care of banking it?

ME: Really? No.

MOM: Yeah....because you just spend, spend spend.

ME: What?

MOM: It's like you can't stop spending so, I think it would be best.

ME: Uh..I was at the grocery store. Buying food.

MOM: Well if it's something you need. But I mean then you're going to Ikea? Buy more junk? No.

ME: Yeah...we're done talking now.

I'm pretty sure this is why Kevin, in Home Alone decided to live alone.

2009-11-02T21:26:00.003-06:00

One of the things that The (now) Ex used to tell me was my “problem” was that everything had to be “the same” – meaning if I moved or we moved, that I would tend to place my belongings in much the same place that they had been in my previous residence. I’m not going to deny this is very much the truth, however, I’m not sure that I necessarily see a “problem” with this.

For instance, I had bought this lamp at one point, specifically for my desk, so that I could see when I was working on my computer at home. This lamp was, therefore, my, all together now: desk lamp. Meaning that, when I moved, I tended to put this lamp – where? That’s right, on my desk. Weird, right? I know – clearly this makes me certifiable.

Guess what? It’s coming time to move once again (I know, I know…when will it END??) and you know something? I probably WILL put things in much the same places they had been before. Why? So I can find them. Again – weird…right?

Yeah, I know this makes me, again, practically certifiable, but I like to stay sane by putting things where I can find them. So, if, then, for the rest of my life, I want to put my desk lamp on my desk, that’s what I’m going to do. If that makes me crazy, fine. If that bothers YOU…then don’t come over.

Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE redecorating. LOVE IT. If I had the money, my house would look totally kick-ass. It would also be floor to ceiling Ikea (what's great is that you can literally do that to - Ikea? Sells FLOORING!) Still, some of the basics are pretty much going to end up in the same place essentially no matter how many times you move or redecorate. It can’t be helped. End tables go by the couch, the couch goes in the living room, the TV stand goes under the TV, your home office supplies will go by your desk and your desk lamp? Will go on your desk. That’s how it works. At least in my insane world where the sky is blue and the grass is green and that’s just how it works.

I didn't want to do any more serious posts for awhile - but really this almost like a PSA, especially if your a manager somewhere

2009-10-29T23:39:00.002-05:00

I've had a lot of jobs. Some good, some bad. I've also put up with a lot of shit from the public at these jobs. No surprise I suppose, but what is surprising is the way these issues were dealt with, or more accurately the lack of dealing with them. Let's take a little review shall we? **Note: If you stick with me on this you'll see the point after I cover 2009....it's worth it I promise!

* 1995 - 2003ish
I'm working at a small "shopper" newspaper. You talk about putting up with shit - that's pretty much all we did. It's truly amazing how angry people can get over a FREE paper. For instance:
- I got the paper and I don't want it
- I didn't get the paper and I DO want it
- I've been saving up ALLLLL the papers I get that I DON'T want so I can throw them at YOU!
etc.

For the most part I never felt in any danger until we got a new manager and I was threatened by a customer verbally over the phone and my manager at the time DID NOTHING. I guess he didn't realize that 99% of the time these people actually do act on on their actions. My co-worker HAD had papers thrown at her from a customer. Here I was working in a building, downtown, alone, at night. Thanks.

* 2003
I'm working in the northern part of the state as an intern. My co-worker, it turns out, had a stalker who was a paying patron of the music festival we put on. He would show up at the office, he would mail things, he would show up at wait at the shows. It got to the point where everyone started fearing for not only my co-worker but myself included since this guy apparently like this girls young and attractive.

There was a point where we were snuck out through the back of the theatre, in the dark, under cover, shoved into a board member's car, told to lay on the ground. We were driven to an alternate location at which point our cars were driven to us by orchestra members. Fun.

Yet - I was still told I had to show up at the office, before anyone else, ALONE, in a secluded area. AWESOME. This was AFTER our escape by cover of dark.

*2004
I'm back working in the northern part of the state at a different theatre. I get my first death threat by mail because I was trying to collect money owed on an Ad. Whose side did my manager take? Not mine. Again...AWESOME.

*2005 - 2007
I was working in collections. Threats were inevitable. We were in a secured building. Not too big of a deal.

*2007-2009
I'm working at a bank. This is more dangerous on a daily basis then you'd think. Aside from the constant potential of being robbed every second of every day that you are open, you're still dealing with the public so hello money wrench. I was cornered in my office/cube numerous time by crazy customers. People who had serious mental issues, smelled, and were yelling at me while sitting about 4 or 5 inches away. Where was my backup? Oh that's right - GOLFING. AWESOME.

This leads us to tonight. I was about one counter away from being attacked. See - right now my part time job is working at a gym. A health club. Did you get that? Let me just say it again one more time...a HEALTH. CLUB. A place where one would go if they want to get in shape, lose weight, that sort of thing. Are you with me? However...we also, beyond all reasonable explanations....sell BEER. Yes that's right - alcohol. I'm not gonna lie, I was a member of a different club at one time that also served alcohol but the MAJOR difference is that YOU WOULD NEVER KNOW, unless you were looking for it. This was an area practically separate from the club...different area....down some stairs....away from the front counter...I think you get my drift.

Where do OUR members drink. RIGHT. AT. THE. FRONT. COUNTER It's embarrassing. Especially when you watch potential members walk out because who wants to walk into a HEALTH CLUB that has a bar atmosphere? Exactly.

So tonight. We are crazy busy with memberships. Also we never have enough people to actually cover this sort of situation. Additionally, it's basketball night which means all the crazy b-ballers will be stopping up to drink after their game. This also means that while we are running our butts off trying to sell new members on the club - we're also dealing with a bunch of loud mouth dunks demanding more beer.

Right off the bat bunch of them make a stink because we don't have the EXACT beer they want to drink. I kind of just snap inside and whip around and firmly remind them this is NOT A BAR. They know what we serve but if we don't have it - it's not really our obligation. WE ARE NOT A BAR. At this point I get called a Bitch by one of the members who - and this is really great - is a woman, is NOT a basketball player and DID NOT WORK OUT. She just swung by to DRINK AT THE GYM!

Fine - so at this point I decide I'm not with the whole situation and just stay my distance. Only all these people are calling their friends to come over and then we realize it's one guy's birthday. They are celebrating his birthday by DRINKING AT THE GYM. What??

It progressively gets rowdier and rowdier. Myself and my co-worker are getting progressively more and more annoyed. Pretty much the entire time I'm being harassed by this woman who called me a bitch at practically EVERY opportunity. Which is awesome and I don't say anything because - at this point - even though I may have been slightly out of line with my "Hello this is not a bar" comment...she was the one who was swearing and harassing ME. So at this point I know I have the upper hand and I fully intend on keeping it.

Around 9pm one of the quieter guys makes a comment about "really cleaning out the cage tonight" Meaning they practically drank all the beer in the cooler. My response: "Yeah..good job." Apparently now it was also game on.

He gets all offended and can't believe I'm not just Ecstatically excited about this awesome feat in drinking history...apparently. I explain that this sort of behavior looks really bad for the club and they had, in fact, driven away potential new member, essentially costing us hundreds of dollars. I decide to leave it at that and just keep doing my job.

This would be when the one member who has pretty much always made it his job to press my buttons starts in. I just look at him and calmly ask him to just stop talking and leave it alone. He didn't like this.

He's a bulkier guy, and when he gets mad....he's pretty much in an uncontrollable RAGE. So he stands up to his full height and flexes his arms and proceeds to RAGE at me about respecting him and not telling him to stop talking etc. I ask him again to just leave it alone and just stop. No dice.

This is when I start looking for the number for the police. Of course I can't find it. Face with the threat of the police showing up the other "drinkin' buddies" flee. Luckily my co-worker stepped between me and the rager. The remaining "drinkin' buddies" attempt to calm dude down, but to no avail and I STILL CAN'T FIND THE DAMN NON-EMERGENCY NUMBER.

Finally I remember it's in my cell phone and I run to the back to get my purse. Meanwhile my co-worker is on the phone frantically trying to reach our manager who left HOURS earlier.

During this time - I also get threatened by the "drinkin' buddies" on their way out since, usually, our manager is on their side. So they assume a simple complaint about ME will fix it for THEM. Well that's fine since I have the paying members on my side.

I also have witnesses. Many, many witnesses.

The ONLY person who came to my rescue...aside from my co-worker....was an older member. Everyone else, either left...or hid apparently. AWESOME.

Plus we have no manager ON SITE. REALLY AWESOME.

Once we finally reach our manager via phone, he informs us he can't really deal with it right now, basically encouraged me to NOT call the police even though the remaining members thought it would be a better idea.

All in all it was a big mess.

Meanwhile the maintenance crew start filtering in and they can tell something is horribly wrong. One of the gentlemen..ends up being assigned to walk me to my car when we leave that night. Which I'm soooo grateful for. In fact he was getting pretty pumped for a confrontation. It made me laugh a little which was nice.

I'm really sickened by this whole thing. For a number of reasons. The drinking being almost first and foremost. Especially since I just dealt with this with the ex.

I feel like I should be volunteering to do DARE talks. You want to know why you shouldn't abuse drugs and alcohol? Here let me tell you some stories.

Or maybe I should become some sort of advocate for workers who feel harassed or ARE harassed in the workplace and have nobody to count on to help them out or be there for them. It's ridiculous. And to basically be encouraged to NOT call the police for MY OWN safety?? You must be kidding.

More to come I'm sure once this whole thing gets sorted out.

I'm BAAAAA-AACK and about to regale you with more stories from the WC. You're welcome.

2009-10-28T22:44:00.004-05:00

So I pop into the bathroom at work and the first stall I try - the toilet is filled with pee and toilet paper. Which…gross. Especially at work. So I move on to the next one since It’s not my job to flush after you. But I’m sitting there and I get to thinking – how, exactly, does that even HAPPEN? I mean, were you peeing and then suddenly you were all “I’m supposed to be in a meeting!” and you just wipe and run? Did you simply forget that you had just peed, yet remembered to wipe? I just don’t understand this – it blew my mind.

THEN…

I’m still sitting there and someone else walks in and goes directly to the pee toilet. I assumed this person would turn and walk away, like I had, and choose another stall – there were three more open after all. But no. She enters. So ok – and this point I’m thinking she’s clearly a better person than I am (or just willing to put up with more gross co-workers). I’m assuming, however, that she will flush first, since….gross. I mean just…imagine. But…once again….nooo. She does her business, flushes…and goes to wash her hands.

So at this point – I’m thinking maybe it was already her pee, like maybe she came in the first time, does her thing, remembers this random meeting, or call, or whatever….wipes and runs planning, the entire time, to come back later and finish and flush.

Or maybe …. I’ve spent too much time contemplating this whole situation and should seek professional help. And apparently so should Ms. Multi-pee. You know, if you're asking me.

Sometimes the best way to learn is to just let yourself go through it

2009-10-22T20:21:00.003-05:00

Wow. So. Once again the drama is full force up in here. I'm sure you'd expect nothing less at this point. At least it keep the people entertained right? Everyone probably needs to know someone like that - if for no other reason then you can then breath a sigh of relief and be thankful that this crap doesn't happen to you - or at least on a fairly regular basis.

In short:
1) the Boyfriend started drinking again - which is BAD if you are an addict who, at one point, went to rehab for this.

2) It all came to a head on a Thursday night when I finally made plans to leave on Saturday. However, that night got so out of hand, it turned out FRIDAY was the big day.

3) By Saturday, all mt stuff was in storage and the essentials are with me at my mom's

4) Yeah - I'm 28 and I had to move back in with my mom.

5) My landlord would like me back in the house, but now the Boyfriend (I guess I should change that to EX - Boyfriend) won't leave. Never mind that I was the one paying all the bills before.

6) You know that song - the Counting Crows one? Long December? Guess who they were talking about - they just didn't know it yet.

Here's the thing - IT'S OKAY! For the last year a half I've been babysitting a 35 year old man - essentially. We were constantly cycing through these insane patterns of him being in control and then being dangerously out of control. When he went into rehab on his birthday in March I was thrilled.

I thought "THIS is why I stayed this whole time - I KNEW with enough support and love he'd realize he was worth this - that life was worth it"

I guess I thought he could be saved. From what I don't know - maybe himself.

And things were good from March until August. Until the day before my birthday. I had been waiting for the other shoe to drop and it finally had. I was completely devistated. The writing was on the wall and at that point I figured it would only be a matter of time.

Now, I know, there's nothing I can do. Even though rehab was his idea the first time, even if it is again, he's got too much else going on in his head. He's his own worst enemy.

At first it hurt thinking that he'll find someone else - because that's what people who are master manipulators do. They move on to the next person willing to put up with the drinking and drugs and deep dark depressions. Willing to change their entire life to make sure he can have a better one.

He doesn't want that though.

He doesn't know how.

I thought when his friend passed away - a friend he was in rehab with - it would be a wake up call. Apparently he still can't see the very real consequences of his actions.

So I'll end with this - it's a quote from a song that even though I had listened to this song many times before, I never picked up on this line specifically, until right before we broke up and I had to leave the home that I love:

"There's a pattern in the system, there's a bullet in the gun, that's why I tried to save you, but it can't be done. It can't be done. " - Emily Haines Our Hell

Deep thoughts, by Megan Handy

2009-09-20T22:30:00.003-05:00

So you know that one - "There's a thin line between love and hate?"

I'm sure we've all been there at one time or another.

It still blows my mind how true this is.

How in the course of one day you can go from feeling completely in love to hardly even being able to look that person in the eye.

How one second you're absolutely sure they would do anything for you, to wondering when they became the most selfish person you know.

How far though, can you cross the line before you can't go back?

Could you ever go back?

Would you want to?

Sometimes you just keep straddling the line, hopping from one side to the other like you're on fire.

Eventually that fire is either going to go out, or completely consume you.

Either way you're going to go up in flames.

Is there ever a time you can get far enough away from the line? Far enough to not make that short skip to hate?

What happens then?

Do you still go up in flames?

Does the love consume you so completely that you can't go back to who you were?

Do you lose yourself?

Do you lose either way?

Do you have to?

Maybe this is all in vain - all this wondering, contemplating, analyzing.

Maybe I'll turn around and someone will say hey "Them's the rules"

Do they have to be?

How do you break the cycle?

Or does it even matter.

Once it's broken with one person, you'll surely enter it again.

The love, the hate, the love.

Back and forth

Like God's playing ping pong with your heart.

With your emotions.

Your life.

Why can't the game just stop without having to fall right off the table.

Can you control the fall?

Can't you just stand up and scream "Enough!"

Maybe if you scream loud enough everyone will finally just shut up and listen.

Maybe then you can get a handle on things.

Then again....

Maybe you won't.

I know you thought the day would never come, you were wrong

2009-09-06T21:30:00.012-05:00

Remember those pics I mentioned like WAY back in the day? The ones from the Boyfriend's gig at the coffee shop? Where I took so many test shots that I only got like ONE actual picture of him playing? Well - in the spirit of finally, finally starting to get some stuff done. Stuff that's been hanging over my head and mocking me each and every day it remains undone, I proudly present to you...**drum roll**
Pictures! Behold!

- One of the random shots I took while trying to figure out what setting to use on my camera, thanks to Picnik it ended up looking pretty sah-weet -

- Another coffee shop test picture. In "real life" it's this pretty cool partial bust in plaster of paris or something -

- Yet another test shot (yeah it's really NO WONDER I had no battery power left when the Boyfriend got up there!) I really like those coffee mug planters though -

- Hum...whatever could this possibly be?? Maybe it's yet another test shot...and NOT a picture of the actual show... -

- Aaaaand here it is! The ONE picture that was the reason for al the rest...The Boyfriend! -

- This one is big time courtesy of Picnik. Same Boyfriend pic with like 5 Picnik effects. Nice...right? -

Then - there was mention of some fabulous flowers inhabiting my yard. Of course they are no longer blooming - probably mostly because I suck at growing stuff. Here's what they used to look like.

- Georgeous! -

- I wish I would have known how to make these beautiful and blooming for longer than the week that they lasted -

Lastly the infamous blue mac and cheese. Remember that this was gluten free and I had added blue cheese and then let it sit for a few days. Apparently this shouldn't be done.

- This, probably pretty obviously, was the pic where I try and make smurf blue mac and cheese look "arty" -

Well - that's all she wrote for right now! I'm hoping to get some pics up of the bridal shower I recently threw for my friend. Hopefully sooner than i managed to get these taken care of. Have a GREAT weekend!

Taking Risks: Not really what I'm about but I did it anyway

2009-09-04T14:30:00.003-05:00

I quit my job yesterday.

Today is my last day.

I have a fabulous new job lined up too!

I will be slightly benefit less and working with slightly less pay for awhile.

And I'm ridiculously excited!

I think about my new job, about which I really know practically nothing and I literally squeal out loud with excitement. The Boyfriend just looks at me and smiles. He asks "What?" but he already knows. I haven't been this excited about a job in years.

One of the nicest parts is they want me. I chose them (I've been working on this for two YEARS)and now, finally, mercifully they've chosen me too. They weren't forced to hire me because I was working for a company they owned, they weren't coerced into giving me a position because they were shifting some other people around and it didn't occur by happenstance because someone else quit.

They actually want me to work there and be part of their company.

I'm sure to a lot of people this sounds completely insane and you're saying "What do you mean no benefits?" "What do you mean less pay?? In this economy? Are you INSANE?" Maybe. But I don't think it's any less insane to stay at a job that feels like it's killing my soul each and every day.

I'm tired of being at a company that repeatedly tries to cast me aside. I'm tired of being the misfit from "that other company we used to own." I'm tired of ending up in positions either because it's benefiting someone else or because they have no reason to fire me so they just stick me wherever they can.

Besides - the benefits and the pay - it'll come. Sometimes you need to start on the bottom again so you can work your way back up. And that's okay. Goals are good! I mean look what happens when you don't give up.

Today is bitter sweet. I'll miss a lot of my co-workers. But I'll see them again. I still have to bank somewhere. For now, I'll let someone else worry about meeting goals, and looking good on paper. Dominating the reports and squashing anyone who gets in their way. I'll let them pick someone they want and meanwhile, I'm going to go where I'm wanted.

Money CAN buy happiness - and it's only $54.33

2009-09-02T16:46:00.002-05:00

I know this because I bought happiness last night. And it was AMAZING!

What's great is it's something EVERYONE has access to and can buy.

You probably wanna know now huh?

Ok - I'll tell you.

Salon Products!

More specifically my special blend of two shampoos and one conditioner that makes my hair manageable in even the crappiest water supply.

Shortly after we moved to the new house I completely ran out of all my super awesome, cannot live without, Aveda products. Well at least my shampoos and conditioner. I convinced myself that I could go without. Especially since it's extremely hard to justify spending $54 on shampoo when you don't even have food in your refrigerator.

Until it started to get more fall-like outside and less humid it didn't bother me too horribly much since my summer 'do is to just go aux natural and throw my hair up with a series of clips and spray gel. DONE!

Now that I have the option to wear my hair down without looking like I was in a serious fight with my hair dryer it was impossible to ignore the EXTREME buildup that the hard water was causing. I mean for reals yo! I attempted this yesterday pre buying my beloved products and - just gross. You could even see a layer of "coating" on my brush bristles. Barf.

Today though? BLISS! It may sound vain, but in these tough economic times if I can make myself happier for $54.33 then so be it. There's even still food in the 'fridge! Win-win.

This is the most unmotivating incentive you could possibly give me, even a poke in the eye with a sharp stick would be better

2009-08-31T15:47:00.006-05:00

I hate football.

I hate it.

I hate it with the passion of a thousand fiery suns.

My hate for football is limitless.

I've written many a post on just how much I loath this sport.

Where am I going with this....

Well, as you probably are well aware my un-fellow football lovers, the current football season is getting underway. Never mind that baseball hasn't even had a chance to finish. Leave it to football to stomp in all drunken and dizzy from one too many hits upside the head and completely take over. Awesome.

In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if during a baseball game a confused football team ran on the field and just started going at it...eh...that might be kind of funny for a minute actually...hum...but I digress.

My hate for all things football being so incredibly strong, it would seem fairly obvious that the one thing that would certainly not motivate me in any way, shape, or form, would be a football-related contest.

cue *heavy sigh*

Also cue *Megan talking about work...AGAIN*

Currently, El Banco, would like for us to get as many mortgage referrals to our mortgage lenders as possible. And why not? I mean first time home buyers could qualify for an $8,000 tax credit! Home prices are at fire-sale lows!

We already have a contest going and I'm fine with it - it's pretty motivating. Could result in fabulous prizes. I'm good to go. Consider me properly motivated.

Then, this just showed up in my e-mail inbox:

"Look in the back at our 'Packer Mortgage Referral Contest'. I would like to see every one of our [-----] Team receive a 'Touchdown'!!!
As a bonus: The first person who gets a qualified referral to [our mortgage lender] will get a Packer Shirt!
GO PACK...er...[-----] TEAM GO!"

I wish I was kidding.

How many more months of this??

What?? HOW LONG??

Someone hand me a rusty fork....**sigh**

You got me feeling emotions

2009-08-31T15:17:00.003-05:00

Once, long ago, my emotions were in check. There was a time, long ago, when I couldn't recall the last time I had cried. Could probably count on one hand the amount of times I cried in an entire year.

Then, Lord only knows what happened. Apparently someone took the cork out of the bucket.

Now, I'm as likely to cry about a schizophrenic homeless man getting a cello from Robert Downy Jr. as I am to go through a box of Kleenex watching the evil Sara McLaughlin homeless pet commercials.

What happened?

It's not so much that I mind that I've become more prone to cry at movies and long distance commericals now, but I do mind it at other times.

For instance, they tell you never to let your boss see you cry, or, if you really do need to cry at work you should excuse yourself for a minute, get it together and get on with your day. That would be a gigantic FAIL for me. Upon being told my sales aren't up to par, I had a melt down in my bosses office in front of HR. Yet, two and a half years ago when, at a different job, my boss returned from being gone all day, and promptly told me I was being let go effective immediately I sucked it in, looked her straight in the eye and said, simply, "Ok." When she asked me if I had any questions, I held my gaze and asked her "Why?". Then I found a box, packed up my stuff, got in my car, and THEN had a breakdown.

What happened to that person? Where's that internal stop that said "Hey! Buck up little camper! Get through this and THEN you can cry all you want in PRIVATE."

It would be an especially helpful thing considering the soap opera of a life I have. I'd love nothing more then to get in a fight with the Boyfriend, such as we recently did, and just get all quiet, then walk up to him real close, look him right in the eye and say, very quietly, "I think you know what you should do." and then just walk away. How fantastic? Let HIM sweat it out.

Instead there's crying (me), yelling (me), begging (me), pleading (me), complete inappropriateness (him), threats (him), yelling some more (me)...anyway it's quite messy. Then two or three days later it's cleared up.

Or in a business setting - such as the one where my route was to have a crying jag. Just sit there, unflinching, and when everyone is done saying their piece and expressing just how much I, apparently, suck at my job if you are simply basing it on sales report numbers in a slow economy, I just sit back and say "Is that all?" Nods all around perhaps, and I say "Alright then, I have some business to attend to, so if you're done wasting my time?..." and they say "Of course!" and apologize to me for further hindering my ability to service my customers since they had me sequestered in an office.

Maybe if I had a gene I'd ask for that ability. Then they'd be so confused when I wished for that that they'd just give it to me with none of those tricky gene caveat's because nobody would have ever asked for that before and it's not only completely unselfish but would benefit everyone in the long run.

You're welcome. From me AND my gene.

My birthday is my curse

2009-08-26T17:05:00.002-05:00

So you know how you get super excited for your birthday? And you try and casually mention it to people like a few weeks before in hopes that they'll remember and send you a text or e-mail or something fun on the actual day?

Awesome, right??

Well that sort of stuff happens to me too, but it always, always has to be accompanied by something really horrible too.

Why is this?

I've tried to thinking back to when this started. I can't really seem to pin point it though. So every year, I get all psyched up and excited. I mark my calendar. I mark my friends' calenders. I date drop in conversation. It's fun! Then I remember THE CURSE and I get a little freaked.

It started out with small stuff - like it being 105 degrees out (No Kidding! Remember? Back in the day? When summers used to be hot? Yeah..) and my cakes would melt. So there are all these pictures of me sitting in front of lopsided birthday cakes.

Now, here we are 28 years later (I'm not ashamed!) and THE CURSE continues! This year it's boyfriend troubles. Big ones apparently. **Sigh**

I'm trying to focus on all the good! There was lots of it!! That's the kind of stuff that keeps me going...thank God! Seriously - if you are reading this and you helped me celebrate even in a small way - you have no idea how much that helped me get through my day. Thank You!!

So here I am, another year older, another curse behind me (sort of). I was hoping for a less dramatic start to my 28th year, but I guess we can't have it all.

And if you don't think the little things are the ones that count - you don't have birthday's like mine.

I guess August forgot to take its Prozac...or something

2009-08-19T14:56:00.003-05:00

Nothing fun has happened lately.

Nothing.

Ok - well that's not entirely true. I made the Boyfriend go to a chi chi sushi restaurant with me on Saturday. That was fun.

Nothing else though.

I'm not sure what's wrong entirely. Apparently I'm not the only one. I'm ok with that as long as September and October get their shit together and shape up.

I think it started when I accidentally read something that was never probably intentioned for me. I didn't do it on purpose and I wasn't snooping, but now I wish I could take back what I saw. Just simply erase that tiny brain cell holding that information.

It's slowly destroying me.

I'm trying to act normal, but I don't think I'm doing a very good job. The Boyfriend is too perceptive of me. Damn it.

I'm also...just...tired.

I probably shouldn't be. I mean I just had two weeks of vacation. Suck it up buttercup! Right?

It's hard when you have to go back to your crappy job and all the...well...crap that you got to so briefly leave behind. Just for a little bit.

I came back and there it all was: the lawn that needed to be mowed, the weeds that needed to be pulled, the carpet that needs to be cleaned, all the extra stuff that just needs to get out of our house! Then there were the bills I can't pay, the two jobs that think I suck....

So when the Boyfriend went out for awhile on Friday night I should have been excited to get some menial stuff done. Poke around on the computer. Post those pictures I keep referencing but never do anything about.

So I showered and then realized I was so very hungry. I fixed some grub and then sat down. Then it was over.

Now the computer is so very far away! I mean all the way upstairs! Not to mention I was broken because of kickboxing.

Then the sitting/eating combo made me so very tired!

Next thing you know, the laundry is still sitting in the baskets, the dishes still need to be done, the scary place under the stairs is still crowded with all the crap we don't know what to do with, and all I can think about is how badly I just want to go to bed.

So here we are - another depressing post. Maybe you've all just ceased reading it at this point? Come back! I promise I'll be fixed very, very soon!

Until then - please to enjoy this litany of HILARITY I have assembled for you:

Those crazy kids

Now you can read OTHER PEOPLE'S drunken texts, FANTASTIC!

I'm not 100% sure what this is but I think I like it

The lighter side of "parenting"

Warning! Here I go blogging about work yet again

2009-08-17T16:59:00.002-05:00

I've been working since I was 15 years old. Actually, I was probably a bit younger. The point is, that at 27 years old, I've been working almost half of my life already.

That is nuts.

Since I started college in January of 2000, I've been working at least 2 jobs, at one point three.

That is also nuts.

Between all those jobs, I've probably worked at least 6-7 days a week and up to, and sometimes, more than, 14 hours a day.

I don't know what the math on all this is - quite frankly I don't think I want to know least I fling myself in front of oncoming traffic. What it means, though, is, when you take into account the additional jobs, the extra hours, the 6-7 days a week of work - I've probably been working as long as I've been alive.

You know, based on hours.

Yikes.

If I'm a little burned out at this point, who can blame me?

Oh - that's right. My current job.

I find this very disturbing.

I mean ok - I'm starting to get a touch worried, because obviously my frustrations at my two jobs, usual separate issues, are starting to more than, apparently, effect my work performance.

Up until I started working at El Banco, I never had any sorts of "performance issues".

Ever.

I'm not just trying to talk myself up here either. I literally mean this. The only other time a boss said to me that is seemed like I didn't want to be there was when I didn't want to be there. I was completely aware of this though.

I figured I was doing a pretty good job of adjusting.

I wasn't aware of any blatant issues.

That's when they pulled out the reports. You know, because the numbers never lie! Dang it.

Ah, yes. The numbers.

This would be where we take a RADICAL departure from any of the jobs I've had ever before.

I've never had to compete with the numbers. It was always just be doing my job. Now there are rankings, and percentages, and goals, and numbers.

This pretty much holds true for both jobs.

I'm held accountable for attain ting all these...numbers.

There are other things too: Why don't customers come in just to see you? Why aren't you shaking the hand of every Tom, Dick, and Harry to enter the joint? Why aren't you on the Valium we freely give out to keep our employees at the super extreme high we require?? Above all - have you seen these NUMBERS??
(P.S. I'm totally kidding about the Valium, but they might want to consider it. That's the only way I'll every be Miss Mary Sunshine Every. Single. Damn. Day.)

I'll admit - I'm a bit alarmed that within the span of a week both my jobs have brought my attitude into this. It's never been an issue before. While clearly I need to be keeping that in check, I think it says a lot too.

It says "I'm sick of working! I'm sick of having not only just regular job stress but the stress of meeting all these....NUMBERS!"

I went to college. I blasted through that joint in 4.5 years with a Major and a double Minor. I was BUSY! I know shit. But here's the thing...

I'd still rather just be managing an office. I'd rather be ordering office supplies and getting the CEO coffee. I like being helpful. I enjoy making other people's lives easier. I'm a damn good assistant.

Yet society expects MORE.

Apparently I just don't have that to give. Well - apparently, I should say OBVIOUSLY.

Right now I don't have any answers. I don't know where to go from here. I mean how do you suddenly start walking into the place that just berated you for your ENTIRE JOB PERFORMANCE farting fairy dust and rainbows?

I'm just not the bigger person like that. My immediate reaction is to get MORE gloomy and MORE angry and just do LESS of absolutely EVERYTHING they want me to do.

You know, recently, one of my former co-workers sent me a little e-mail showing all the products from "back in the day" when they used to put cocaine and heroin and all that just in like cough syrup. Now, I'm not saying we should all go around using street drugs. Trust me. I'm the VERY LAST person that will condone that. However, I do think we need come up with a product that for now is completely legal and will just kind of float you through your work day. Or better yet - just kind of make you unconscious - like you go to work and you're totally normal, but once you get done you don't remember any of it.

Fantastic!

Until then, I'm going to have to keep playing the game. The game that I can no longer win. Yeah - THAT sounds like fun.

If you're planning on assulting me, now would be the best time, I couldn't even bend down to fight off a newborn kitten

2009-08-13T15:20:00.005-05:00

You know what I really hate? Walking. Or actually, anything to do with using your legs. Here is a short list:

* Walking (which we just covered)
* Going up stairs
* Going down stairs
* The span of time between standing and getting ready to sit where you're basically
in a sort of squat position
* Getting up from sitting down
* Kneeling on the ground
* Standing up from kneeling on the ground
* Getting into or out of a low car
* Sitting on or getting up from the toilet.

I could go on, but I said it was going to be a short list, and since I try very hard to not lie I'm going to go ahead and stop.

It's good that I really hate doing all those things because as of right now, and since about 6:00pm last night, I cannot physically do any of those things on that list. Ok, that's actually not true. I can do them, but the amount of pain it causes makes it completely not worth it.

I've also developed this really fun sort of Frankenstein-ish walk, this being due to the fact that I cannot use my thighs to aid in my walking. I had no idea you needed your thighs that much. None.

Now I look like the Zombie Banker who's somehow developed a limp. I think even zombie's would make fun of me.

Hell, the fact that I can't even sit on the damn toilet means most 70 year olds are making fun of me. Awesome.

I'm sure by now you are wondering how you can avoid this very painful situation. You probably like sitting, standing, walking, and going to the bathroom without having to take 50 Advil before attempting to do any of those things. You probably don't want to have to have a shit-load of Botox 2 years from now to straighten out the deep wrinkles about your eyes from squinting in pain. It's quite simple actually.

Do not take kickboxing with the Nazi of kickboxing instructors.

Granted, I've missed kickboxing for about three weeks now, and, I have no doubt that regardless, that's going to cause an awful lot of pain. You can't just not go to a strenuous exercise and then three weeks later show back up and expect to walk away unscathed.

HOWEVER...

When you basically do 60 minutes of squats and lunges you're screwed. You know how I knew I was screwed? When, after the first 20 minutes of warm up, I already couldn't feel my thighs. True story. The warm-up disabled me before we'd even started.

So why would I do this to myself exactly? I'm not sure. Obviously, I know I must be gaining something - since there's all this pain involved. Gaining what, exactly, I'm not sure. Maybe a better understanding of what it's like to be 85 and off your arthritis meds? Maybe. I will say though, aside from the day after, you feel pretty self-satisfied afterwards, mainly because you can tell people "Yeah, I just got back from kickboxing" and they look really impressed even though at that point you couldn't fight off a kitten you're so sore.

Better yet, I've now taken it upon myself to make sure I get to do this: Every. Single. Week. Oh yes, I finally changed my work schedule around so that Every. Single. Week. I have to sleep on the couch because the bedroom is on the second floor.

Famous Last Words from the Kickboxing Nazi:
"Oh! Did I mention we were gonna get in shape in just one day??"

This is probably why gym's shouldn't have TV's

2009-08-12T16:29:00.003-05:00

The other day I managed to find a spare hour to hit the gym. While this is completely amazing just by its self, that’s not the story. The story is that I happened to see Donald Trump on one of the TV’s, kickin' it in his boardroom all The Apprentice style. He was with a young man (possibly his son. Does he have a son?) They were the only two people in the room, and were getting up from the table. Cut to a close up on T-Rump’s face. Cut back again to show T- Rump escorting the young man out of the boardroom.

Since I have no idea what was being said, it made me think: Does Donald Trump fire his family?

His kids for instance. Like when they were younger and they got in trouble for breaking curfew or whatever, instead of getting grounded, did T-Rump simply sit them down in a boardroom somewhere and just…fire…them?

Or his wives. Does he actually tell them he wants a divorce or does he also march them into the room, the table still wet from the tears of a firing earlier that day, and say “I’ve been really observing your performance these last few years and I don’t like what I see” and then he goes on to list whatever it is he’s sick of, then maybe he takes her hands and says “Dear, You’re Fired!”

Then she’s confused so she starts crying and T-Rump is all “Hey! There’s no crying in the boardroom, you take this outside missy” So she leaves and maybe gives a little confession in the elevator for T-Rump to watch later, maybe on You Tube, and then he calls his secretary to call maintenance to come wipe up this table for God’s sake, someone could slip and that’s just a lawsuit waiting to happen.

I have a secret...you see there's this club, and I'm not in it

2009-08-07T13:57:00.003-05:00

I have a secret. It’s something I didn’t even realize myself until recently. In fact, I couldn’t even really put a finger on it until I was ready to admit it to myself first. It’s not a big secret and I know I’m not alone, well,l I know at least one other person that had this secret too. You’d probably never even guess if I told you to – even if I said I would wait, and I would…wait that is.

See, there’s this sort of… “club” and I’m not in it. Not really. Sure, I get invited to hang out, but I’ll never have the membership card to prove anything. Nobody will ever sit me down and show me the secret handshake, or teach me the special knock. I realize there’s really nothing I can do about this, the club is closed to me and that’s understandable, but it doesn’t stop me from being jealous. Just a tiny bit.

I’m not jealous all the time, just some of the time. And it’s not really jealously, but a sort of twinge in my heart that’s there to remind me, to keep me in check. The twinge says: “You may have been invited to the party but you don’t get to stay for the show”. It reminds me of all the things I’m not really a part of. It reminds me of all the things, that no matter how hard I try, will never be reciprocated back to me. They just can’t, and that’s ok, that’s the way it should be because some of those things aren’t mine to have. Not yet.

It’s that love between a parent and child, father and daughter. It’s the thing that’s not mine to either have, or understand. Yet, it makes you want to be part of its warm embrace, keeping you safe. That unconditional love that can only occur in those very special relationships, the ones that go much deeper than us non-parents can sometimes understand.

I had a friend who already had two children when she met her boyfriend. After awhile, he started talking about wanting children of his own, much to my friend’s surprise. She didn’t get it...but I did. I never told her though. I never told her how it’s all about being in the club, about not only having that special parent-child bond, but that parent-parent bond as well. How you want to be able to look at a child doing something amazing and then reach over and take the hand of the person who created that amazing thing with you.

There’s someone else I can’t tell this too. I think he senses it, but he’s getting it wrong. He’s misinterpreting the jealously as a competition for his love. That’s not the case. There is no competition, and the love isn’t created equal, nor should it be. He doesn’t understand the way my friend didn’t understand. He’s already in the club. I’m still standing outside the gates, watching it all happen from between the iron bars.

Something I'm sure every mother in the world already knows but since I'm not really a mom I have a learning curve

2009-08-06T13:49:00.003-05:00

For a long time I’ve always said that I’ll have kids when I can grow them in a tube and pick ‘em up when they’re hot and toasty and ready to come home. That way – no pain and no pregnancy gain. Everyone wins. Mostly me. But that’s really who counts the most anyway.

I’ve also said that were I to date someone with kids (and…here I am…doing just that) that it would be totally cool since then I don’t have to do the work myself – well the work of actually spewing them from my own loins.

See – I’m fairly certain I would hold a massive grudge against them for ruining my already not-as-perfect-as-it-could-be-damn-you-mountain-dew-addiction body. I don’t need any help not going to the gym and drinking too much soda. Also? I worked retail for a number of years and I just know I’d totally be one of those moms in there sobbing by the jeans and dreaming of when they were a size 2 and now they are a size 8 and omg NEVER HAVE KIDS THEY WILL RUIN YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME??

Guess what? Even when the children are not exactly yours – you can still blame them for gaining weight or not having enough time to get to the gym. I, personally, would do both, because that’s what kids are for: to do the stuff you don’t want to do around the house and take the blame for everything else. Neat, huh?

Due to my totally awesome work schedules (oh yes, that’s plural), one of them ironically at the gym, it leaves me with about two to three days of the week that I can work out. Sure, this sounds like enough time, until you factor in having a child 2-3 days of the week, on the exact same days that I am either not working both jobs, or am not working late at the first one.

Really what this boils down to is not having time to make it to any of the group exercise classes that typically start at either 5:40pm on weekdays and 5:15pm on Fridays, and then Saturday and Sunday mornings. I can do self-directed exercise, I have for years. However, to see actual results,I need someone up on a raised platform that looks like Bootcamp Barbie, yelling at me to feel the burn. Otherwise, two bicep curls with a five pound weight and I'm throwing in the towel.

What this usually means is that if the Daughter wants to play Frisbee like a mental patient, which is pretty much just throwing it around the yard randomly and then running to go get it and doing it all over again, count me in! You want someone to run around the park with you like a monkey on hot sand? I’m your gal. Don’t mind me if it sounds like I’m counting to myself, I’m just adding up all the calories I’m potentially burning.

So in the spirit of complete laziness I'm phoning it in at part 3 of ?

2009-08-05T11:52:00.003-05:00

Yeah so I'm totally over this post. I guess I was assuming that nothing more interesting would happen in the next couple weeks. Blthhhhh!!! Apparently I forgot who I was there for a minute! Silly me.

To give a really quick summary since otherwise I'd be leaving you (assuming anyone is even reading this anymore) right smack dab in the middle of a sentence. So ok - please keep in mind I suck at summaries, because clearly I've very long winded, that or I just don't know how to segue properly into a new paragraph because hey look! I'm STILL talking. Ok ok, here we go:

Came back from Tennessee to find out my Uncle's party was canceled because he was in poor health.

Head up to the big D.C. on Saturday with the Boyfriend and am informed that he passed away the day before. Much crying ensues.

Stay the night and head back on Sunday.

Spend Monday crying and trying to find people to switch shifts with for job #2. Yes that's right I said switch shifts not "to work them for me" so I end up working Monday night. Awesome.

Go back up on Tuesday with the Boyfriend, where we proceed to spend an insane amount of money since I really enjoy showing people around one of my favortist places. No regrets though because really? When will we be able to do that again? Most likely not anytime in the near future.

The visitation and funeral were really nice. Since my Uncle was an extremely good baseball player we all signed baseballs to put in the casket.

Came back late Thursday.

Then it was back to the real world - which not only sucks, but made me realize I just don't like this whole "working" thing. I mean I think I'd be willing to work some sort of part time job, but I'm so over a 40 hour job plus another 15 at my part time job on top of it.

Plus? I just look better when I get more sleep - OBVIOUSLY so I mean really I'm only thinking about you and when you have to look at me. So see how unselfish I am? I would totally not work to look good for you.

I know! And you're welcome

Part 2 of ? Of My Own Personal Soap Opera

2009-07-31T16:01:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I had just finally left my house - at that point as quickly as possible because who doesn't want to hurry up and get to the hospital? Well me but only because the vising hours seem very restrictive when you're on a tight schedule. However, when I was IN the hospital ....no, scratch that, even when I was in the the hospital I would have liked slightly longer vising hours.

ANYWAY....

I visited with Best Friend and her new addition Little C. I also helped her "escape" from the hospital so we could walk half a mile away so she could smoke. So yeah, I'm so awesome I helped my friend break all sorts of New Mommy rules. But you know...when that "new Mommy" has had two other children and they turned out just fine, you don't get to have a say in "what's best".

Then it was off to collect my Benjamin's from my mom for my plethora of medical bills, hit the grocery store and head home. Only, when I got home, I realized I didn't want to be there quite yet, mainly because the more I looked around the more stuff I found tucked away or just plain hidden. I think the last straw was finding the "I Love You" post-it from the Boyfriend that was stuck to my bedroom mirror now stuck to the shoe rack in the closet!

With my stress and rage levels shooting off the charts at this point, I decided that obviously the very best option was to grab a blanket, pillow, book and radio and sleep on the living floor of my now unfurnished apartment across town. Oh yes - I was that mad. You can pretty much bet things have taken a pretty sour turn when I no longer want to be in the same house as you - unless you want to die in your sleep. Then the situation is most likely on your side.

Of course, I figured I'd be missed right away but apparently that didn't occur until the next morning . But, eventually we worked it all out once it was explained that the Boyfriend needed to keep the "separate living" lie alive for when the Daughter's mom came into our home. That's all well and good, but then you need to tell me these things. There is no way I'd have any idea to ask a question on like that. NONE. Besides, there's a whole issue with asking the Boyfriend questions in the first place, so usually unless information is readily provided it's best to just wait and see how it plays out. This can go one of two ways - like the way it went, or worse. Rarely does it end happily with complete understanding and nobody storming out of house. That would be nice though.

Moving on....

I still had quite the list to accomplish even though I had mange to cross a whopping three whole things off. It was really more like 1 thing since every time I turned around I was adding to the list rather then subtracting from it making it more of a two steps forward, one step back scenario.

Luckily, the Boyfriend decided to step it up in project "You Better Help Megan Reduce her Stress Levels Before Mass Destruction Ensues" meaning he cleaned out my car and washed it, and then obsessed over the water that was still mysteriously dripping down the sides every once in awhile. It's always such an adventure when you wash your car, especially when you feel like you did a pretty good job drying it only to find out 2 hours later that apparently steal is more absorbent than you realized and water continues to course down the sides of your windows and doors leaving ugly water marks behind.

Miraculously, we also managed to fit in a bunch of other errands I needed to get taken care of AND attend a pool party at Job #2, where we stuffed ourselves with brats, potato salad, soda, and chips. Then I went home to pack and make myself a collection of mix CD's cleverly entitled "Road Trippin" 1-5 (if you're wondering, yes I AM a certified genius...why ever do you ask?)

Sunday started out with a flurry of activity getting myself and my car ready for the trip and culminated in a huge lunch before I settled in for my 10 hour drive to Tennessee. Most people hear that and are pretty sure they would loose their minds around hour 4 or 5, but you really have to try it sometime. The first time I drove to TN alone I was terrified. I was mostly scared of something happening, like being attacked, or robbed or getting in an accident and nobody knowing what happened. However, after I successfully navigated the first trip I knew that this time would be a lot better. Besides that - it's 10 hours of complete ALONE time.

You get to listen to whatever music in what, in whatever order you want as LOUD as you want. You stop when you want, eat what you want and drive how you want. You don't have to entertain, speak to, listen to, or care about anybody else. It's pretty zen really - and possibly the best 10 hours you can spend. As long as you put yourself in the right mind frame to start out and you just settle in, the time goes fairly quickly.

The trip was nice. I didn't get to see as much family as I would have liked, but that's mainly my own fault for not calling people ahead of time. Which isn't really my fault so much as I just don't like calling people so if I could have simply e-mailed them I'm sure we could have avoided a miscommunication in the first place.

By Thursday I had re-established my Southern accent and was ready to head home.

Part Three most likely on Monday

Part One of ? of the Last Two Weeks of My Soap Opera of a Life

2009-07-30T14:46:00.003-05:00

Well hello there! So first we should address the issue of me being a horrible, filthy liar. Hey! Stop nodding your head over there! You don't even probably know why I'm calling myself a liar. Unless it's because, as you can probably see, there are STILL no pictures posted. What in the name of little baby jeebus tap dancing in the rain is wrong with me? How possibly hard can it be to post some damn pictures on a blog.

Normally probably not that hard, but with the two jobs, and all the pictures being on my home computer and no Internet access at job #2...well you see. PLUS there was the last two weeks of my life in there...which...well...let's take a look.

First of all probably shortly after I last posted waaaaaaaay back on July 10th, my completely insane mother calls me to tell me that my Great Uncle is on his deathbed and probably will not make it through the night. Obviously I'm immediately upset. I realize the "great" in front of "uncle" makes it seem like this is more of a distant relative, but I lived with my Great Aunt and Uncle for two years and they are simply amazing people.

So, I'm at work, upset, and having a panic attack about what the next move should be. I'm supposed to go to Tennessee to see my Dad on Sunday...do I go? Should I leave for the big D.C. to see my Great Uncle tonight? Where will I stay? Will my Dad understand? What about job #2?

By the time the Boyfriend comes to get me from work I'm a mess. Or, I supposed you could make that MORE of a mess. PLUS the Best Friend goes and decides that it was also a SUPER day to pop out her third kid. So in addition to figuring out the aforementioned paragraph there this to do:
* Must pick up prescription from Walmart before 10pm
* Must get money from mom and make deposit at bank before Sunday
* Pay bills
* Go see Best Friend and Little C in the hospital
* Figure out what in the Holy Hell is going on with my house - specifically where the hell is all my stuff?

Oh yeah - did I forget to mention that the Boyfriend forgot to mention to his daughter's mom that we live together?? Yep. So, since she was dropping of the Daughter and was apparently touring our home (which I didn't know - it turns out it was all MY FAULT for not asking the right questions? Whatever) so all my stuff had to be shoved out of way so he wouldn't look like a big fat liar. Which, in that case, he was.

You wanna know what the really best way to push me over the edge when I'm panicking and feeling really rushed and stressed out? MOVE ALL MY STUFF ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE SO I CAN'T POSSIBLY FIND IT. Yeah - see how THAT goes.

Oh and did I mention that I had T-minus 2 weeks to make, and mail 30 wedding shower invites??

Breath

I had assume (obviously completely wrongly) that the Boyfriend had gone to get my prescriptions already that day, it was the one thing I asked that get done. NOPE. So he went to go do that and I decided before continuing to have a panic attack to call my family in D.C. and see what the deal was.

Turns out my Great Uncle was "fine" meaning he wasn't going to die during the night, was stable, and, in fact, the kids were planning a fish boil for his birthday the next Saturday.

Once the Boyfriend returned, I gave him the updated situation, and, right before I could make a more graceful and less noticeable exit from my own home, an entire barrage of people came in, with gift for his Daughter. Which, is normally totally ok, but I'm in the middle of having a breakdown, I still have a legal sized to-do list, and now, apparently, I'm going to have to try and entertain people? Right.

I end up completely overwhelmed by the unexpected company, annoyed that the Boyfriend is now completely ignoring me, and pissed because I still can't find any of my stuff. I'm waiting for the Boyfriend to acknowledge the fact that I need to leave - like 15 minutes ago, but since that time never comes, I stomp around trying to find my misplaced items, since some of those are things I need to bring to the hospital for Best Friend.

I grab the rest of my stuff and get to the car only to realize guess who left it on dead empty? Now I have to go back inside and get my debit card. That done, I finally manage to leave the house - finally!

This concludes part one - if you would like to hear the parts two through who knows, because this is apparently getting much longer than I anticipated, you may tune in all the subsequent days to read them!

You probably won't find your dead grandma in your wall but if you did it would be better if it was ice cream

2009-07-10T14:06:00.002-05:00

This is a real life conversation I had today:

The Setting: My job at El Banco (P.S. So I hear you're not supposed to blog about your work? So I guess sorry if I offend anyone, but you, I work 14 hours a day typically so I don't have too much else to talk about! Plus when you work with the public it's pretty much ceaseless entertainment)

The Background: As a fundraiser for United Way we got a small Culver's ice cream cart, some sprinkles and mini M&M's for toppings. The cart holds two large containers of ice cream, one on the left and right sides plus an additional container under the bucket on the left if you run out of one.

The Culver's guy came in to deliver an extra container and this is the conversation I had with him.

Action!

Me: Oh hey!We were just talking about getting another one of those from you

Culver's Guy: Yeah? Well, here you go.

** I "help" while he pulls out the two existing containers and lifts in the new one in the storage area of the cart **

Me: Oh that's cool, I didn't realize there was space for another one in there. Huh.

Culver's Guy: Yeah it works out pretty well. You never quite know what all in there, kind of like an old house.

Me: Right, like if you remodel and you just never know if you're going to find grandma in the wall

Culver's Guy: **nervous laughter**

Me: You know, except that you would find ice cream instead, which would be better than finding a dead grandma.

Culver's Guy: **more nervous laughter** Yeah, um, ok, so....I'm gonna go.

End

I'm going to go ahead and blame the headache for making me delirious and completely unable to control my motor skills.

The Chinese Zodiac is trying to tell me my life is a lie

2009-07-09T11:23:00.007-05:00

The boyfriend and I occasionally talk about the Zodiac, or really, usually just me when I'm trying to explain that I can't help that I wipe down the counters right after him because my Zodiac sign pretty much demands that I do it. That's not my fault it's the universe's fault so take it up with The Big Guy. Us Virgos are a little OCD. I'm sorry if that makes me hard to live with, but on the plus side, there is no way the house will ever be in complete chaos, so really he should be thanking me. You're welcome.

So there's the Western Zodiac, and then there's the Chinese Zodiac, which assigns you to certain animals based on the year you were born. I happen to be a Rooster, while the boyfriend is a Rabbit.

Since I couldn't remember what exactly the Rooster is known for...I assumed just being freaking annoying because have you ever been rudely awakened by a rooster? There is not sleeping when a rooster is around. Let me give you an image you can probably relate to: it's like being the next door neighbor of someone who owns a diesel truck. Just, you know...for instance.

Turns out, the Rooster is, among other things, a spotlight loving ego maniac! Which, sure, I'll admit I'm a bit of a stage whore, but I certainly don't mind sharing said stage. I just like performing, but usually with a group or at least one other person. That part didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but everything else was pretty much right in line with my Western Virgo status.

Then it starts talking about who your animal is compatible with, and, it turns out that my MORTAL ENEMY (that is the exact verbiage used!) is the Rabbit...better known as....the boyfriend. That's interesting, because I certainly don't feel like he's my mortal enemy. I rather enjoy having him around, which, were we actually MORTAL ENEMIESI would assume would not be the case. I probably never would have started dating him and we most certainly wouldn't be living together. Because oh my God! Who would LIVE with their MORTAL ENEMY?? Me, apparently.

I told the boyfriend of course, since maybe I was missing something. He informed me that he knew and had been plotting for the last year. I was all "So you're just waiting for the right moment then?" He's like "Well Yeah." So I was like "Well I guess I better get on installing those surveillance cameras then eh?" He just laughed and asked me with what money I had purchased them with.

Gah! Touche young grasshopper.

So then I was all "Well I also knew a year ago and that's when I bought the cameras. I was also waiting for the most opportune moment...and I think we've finally come upon it". He really didn't seem all that concerned. Probably because I've been telling him that I've been slowly poising his coffee but he continues to live. He's not even sick. Sometimes it's like we're Mr & Mrs. Smith but without being actual assassins or having any ninja skills. Except for me because I kickbox. Although it's not like ninja style kickboxing, because that would be way cooler.

To recap:
I have no surveillance cameras and I'm apparently living with someone who, according to the Chinese Zodiac, is my MORTAL ENEMY. Awesome.

Guiding the Days of All My Bold Lives to Live

2009-07-07T13:18:00.004-05:00

If you didn't get that title? It's a sad (very sad, I can admit that, I'm a big person) conglomeration of soap opera names*. I'd give prizes for who can guess them all correctly and first, but I'm poor, so your prize would probably be the not-so-yummy chocolate Skittles I attempted to eat at lunch yesterday. Now don't all go clamoring for them at once. Keep it civilized people!

* In case you just really have to know, or are confused because I did such a poor job the soaps are, in order: Guiding Light, Days of our Lives, All My Children, Bold and the Beautiful, One Life to Live

**Ahem!!** This is great because I don't even really have a post to get back to really, I mean at this point I could most likely just ramble on and on about soap operas, but I won't because I only watch Bold and the Beautiful and that's simply by default. Also? I'm bad with names, and this post would get very long, very quickly if I had to describe all the characters without names and with physical features only. In fact it's making me tired, and bored, and where was I going with any of this?

Sadly it's not even Monday anymore so I can't just write this whole thing off as a Monday occurrence which, obviously, everyone would understand. Nope - it's Tuesday so I'm supposed to be getting my shit together at this point right?

Right?

**tap** **tap**

**AHEM!!**

So let's see, I realized I promised some pictures, which, sadly, still have not happened. Not for lack of time really, more lack of motivation. Motivation and any sort of artistic inclination. Honestly, I was only out of it that one day, after that it was just sheer ennui that prevented me from doing anything else. That, and the list of crap I need to do that's quickly becoming extremely overwhelming, and where or where are those anxiety pills when you need 'em?? Clearly not here where they should be, keeping me breathing, and all the hair on my head and not in my clenched fists.

What's going on you may ask? A quick recap...as a side note I should warn you that this might sound a bit soap operaesque, you know, without all the evil twins and the resurrections and such, but still, if it didn't happen then this blog would be uber boring (or maybe just more uber boring) and I'd have to regal you with stories about kittens, or unicorns, or how keep getting this hangnail on my one finger that keeps turning into an infection and I wish that would just stop happening...and ANYWAY:

Wednesday: Have small bowel biopcey. Sleep for the rest of the day, except for the hour I was awake to make myself a sandwitch and take a couple of phone calls

Thursday: Have upsetting realization while talking to my financial advisor, but nothing that other people haven't already had to do, luckily it also means I don't get to work until 10am.

Manage to hit the gym for a Power Pump class at which point my stomach starts to get very angry

Pretty sure the discharge papers said I could "resume normal activity", guess it's a good thing I didn't go to spin instead

Best friend comes over with her two boys, who are happily entertained by the boyfriend, who, among other things: gave them two bottle of silly string that ended up all over a tree and the back porch (read: cement slab), make a bonfire and roast hot dogs, take a walk to the river and plan a fishing trip. Luckily my best friend and I did pretty much nothing but leisurly watch it all from the safety of our chairs.

Finish watching movie from Saturday night with the boyfriend

Cue intense and riducliously painful stomach cramps. Until 1am when I finally fall asleep.

Friday: Stomach cramps continue. After a few phone calls with the nurse/doctor/clinic it's decided I should probably just to go the ER.

Normally I would just let this slide and deal with it myself, but two pieces of my stomach/small bowel were just removed (ok albit SMALL pieces) and apparently stomache pain should NOT still be happening at this point.

Spend 2 hours in the ER to be told it's just the surgical gas stuck in my innards. Fun.

Go back to work for 45 minutes then race back to town to my second job, breaking untold amounts of traffic laws only to find that the person who was supposedly waiting for me to arrive with baited breath....is already gone.

Work until close. Which actually isn't that late.

Get home. No boyfriend.

Call cell phone, no answer.

Text, no response.

Call cell phone, nada.

Start to get worried.

I'm not saying he can't leave the house of his own accord, but typically I at least have some sort of idea about what's going on.

Start to get annoyed.

Call cell phone, leave message.

Get call back!

No, you did not tell me which friend's house you were at. No big deal, I'm just a stickler for info...much like the KGB.

Feel much better, but now lonely....and bored.

We canceled the digital cable.

We get channels 2-24.

Do you know what's on channels 2-24??
News
Simpsons
Becker
News
News
Weather
News

Try and work on computer - as now would be the perfect time to upload promised pictures on blog. Get frusterated because I can't listen to decent television in the computer room (I hate you channels 2-24!!) Get dramatic because I feel like nothing in the room is mine aside from the computer and the desk it's sitting on. Even though this isn't true, and also because I just have less stuff so you just don't see as much of it in general. Take Tramadol for stupid surgical gas stomach cramps and try to sleep (dramatically!) on the couch in front of Uptown Girls. (Shut it)

Boyfriend finds me, upon his arrival home, and correctly assumes I'm crabby and bored due to stupid no good TV channels. Luckily he brought home an awesome movie which we both managed to stay awak to watch. Yay us!

Saturday (July 4th): Comes to a crashing halt with a rather upsetting visit. We know we'll get around the this new situation (which isn't actually all that new for us), but, still, in light of the earlier part of our week...this just addds to the problems.

I suggest we go to the Farmers Market. Even when I realize it's spitting rain I never suggest we stay home. The sacrifices I make. They are intense.

Manage to get some awesome buffalo steaks practically for free (yay coupons!), discuss upcoming King of Pop's funeral with coffee shop owner, buy an amazing flower arrangement for $5.

Go home, and I realize I cannot continue living without some sort of food. Make eggs. Clean microvwave, stove, counters, and mop floors in kitchen, entryways, and bathroom.

Head upstairs to see what the boyfriend is up to, which I suspect is sleeping. Which is when I decide to take a break and, rather then upload pictures (because that would be silly!) I fall asleep too.

Finally get back up, finish cleaning, the boyfriend finds his way downstairs and makes up\s buffalo steaks, and we pretty much proceed to lounge around the rest of the day.

At no point did updating el bloggo seem like a good idea. Sorry!

Sunday: Back to work! Bright and early at 9am! Turns out it's not so bad when you have a fun co-worker.

Stop at the 'rent's afterwards to borrow the weed wacker since I've decided I cannot live one more minute staring at the weeds threatening to overtake the lawn.

Arrive home to find the boyfriend has been haaaaarrrddd at work mowing, weeding, planting tomato plants, transplanting other plants from our "ravine" to the side of the hosue and generally fixing stuff....color me shocked! And totally stoked!! We spend the rest of the day in a battle against the yard - and we totally win!

Monday: Day starts off ok until I realize I have a doctor's appointment (yes, once again!) Which puts the boyfriend in a condundrum since he wants to use the car but doesn't want to have to take me to the doctor's. In the end he decides using the car and dealing with my doctor's appointments are more beneficial.

Have panic attack when I realize I am leaving for Tennessee next week, I still have to plan a bridal shower with money I don't have and supplies I don't have since I returned most of them to pay for rent, still have another apartment to clean before the end of the month, the car is a junk heap on the inside, need OIL CHANGE....BREATH!!

The boyfriend picks me up at 2pm and tells me he finally was able to pick up the brand spankin' new electric guitar the music store was holding for him!

My neurologist actually doesn't yell at me or call me poor! Plus gives me medicine that might help my headaches AND my crazy panic attacks. Yay!!

Decide I really need to do at least one thing (finish cleaning old apartment, get oil change for car, clean car inside and out, get new bridal shower invites, get new bridal shower EVERYTHING, pay rest of the rent, BREATH) each night this week so I feel like I'm accomplishing something.

Even though we are poor I want to treat us to a decent meal, so Red Lobster it is! I even cheat and have some of their delicious bread! Oh bread how I've missed you!!!

Feeling full and happy, I know spending my gas money on food was still a good idea.

Arrive home and play with new electric guitar. This is probably the one instrument I've never played, and never had an opportunity to mess around with. And. It. Is. FANTASTIC!! I think I'm addicted.

Pry the guitar out of my own hands and load up to go clean the apartment. It's one dinky bathroom and some vacuuming. I'm pretty sure I can handle this.

Miss two calls from the boyfriend.

Call, no answer

Call, no answer

Text, no response

wait.

clean toilet

clean counter

clean mirror

Call, no answer.

Even though I KNOW everything is probably fine, I feel like I need to just go home and see what's up. I try and tell myself I'm being stupid but I just don't care. I also realize I can just say I forgot to grab the stainless steel cleaner.

Get home. The boyfriend is ok - one of his friends is having some problems though. We decide that he'll finish helping me clean the apartment then we'll deal with the friend.

On the way over, we discuss another friend, and the boyfriend decides to give him a call, only to find out some extremely bad news, at which point I know we're not going to be cleaning the bathroom, but will be going directly to the friend's house.

Arrive, with friend et al at ER around 9:30pm.

Leave ER around 1am.

I contimplate calling in to work for the morning, but realize that's probably not going to fly since I have enough of my own doctor's appointments I need to miss for.

That's that. I tried to make it as short as possible. I'm pretty sure I lost most of my 3 readers at this point anyway. If nothing else it was theraputic for me! So thanks!! I'm not so good at the short recaps - I'd try and get better but then I'd probably end up leaving out some curcial words and then it would look like a drunken monkey on crack typed this up rather than just dictating it to me.

The pictures - they are a commin. Not tonight (work until 10pm), maybe tomorrow? (although after kickboxing I think that the apartment MUST. BE. CLEANED.) Not Thursday (work again until 10pm) Potentially Friday (that might end up being bridal shower invitiation night tho), Potentially Saturday (assuming I don't go to the 2nd Job Summer Par-tay!)

I'll try and get it done before the big Tennessee trip at any rate!! :-)

It's more than just making sure you're wearing clean underware

2009-06-30T12:36:00.003-05:00

I'm not feeling particularly witty today but I wanted to post something, so here's a little diddy I wrote a while back that I will bestow upon you now....please to enjoy!

I imagine that I'm pretty much alone in this line of thinking, but I can’t help it. Sometimes I’ll be wondering around my house, maybe I’m just putting away laundry, but suddenly I’ll wonder: If I were murdered right now, what would a crime scene investigator conclude about me based solely on looking through my things.

Whenever I mention this to someone else they ask: “Why? Do you have something really freaky stashed away in there?” No, I don’t, but that doesn’t mean that ill conceived conclusions aren't being drawn off of the stuff I do own. Besides, it wouldn't even just be my things, the boyfriend's belongings are strewn about the place too. He definitely owns more weird junk then I do.

I just think it would be really interesting to hear what someone you don't know, and who has no idea who you are, has to say about you simply by digging around your house. Would they say something like: “Clearly she’s unbalanced, just look at this CD collection..I mean Warren G next to Kenny G? We are dealing with a straight up nut job here” Then they start staring at your walls and they just can’t figure out what kind of person has thought it was a good idea to frame replicas of old 50’s style post cards that have saying on them like “Darling, Let’s Get Deeply Into Debt” or “Mortgage Payments Make me Swoon”.

Or they go through your medicine cabinet (I wouldn't advise going through mine because there is a sea of prescriptions in there that would make your head spin, aside from the fact that half of them are from old problems that it turns out I didn't even have) and that's just a whole world of possibilities.

Where they really don’t want to go is the bedroom because why is there a foot tall stuffed Eric Cartman doll dressed in his “Beefcake” beater wearing a fedora and trooper sunglasses? Why is the bed propped up with stacks of books? For the love of God what's with all the sunglasses!?!? Nobody knows except me and now I'm dead so you can't ask me you just have go ahead and draw conclusions. Unless you can find the boyfriend and ask him, but maybe the killer got him too! See? Trouble waiting to happen.

Then today, I realized another fascinating situation. What would be said about me, or rather, how would I be described, if I were the perpetrator of a crime? At work we get notices of other financials that are robbed or have suspicious activity, along with a description of the person, usually based on video surveillance and eye witness accounts. Typically they sound something like this: “White female, 25-30 year old, 5ft 5in – 5ft 7in tall, 135-140 pounds, medium build, dark hair..” etc.

What would my description sound like, and would I be offended if I were to see it later like, maybe in the paper, and think “Well surely they can’t be talking about me…that’s not how I see myself at all.” I suppose the first response might be relief because if you don't think you look like that, maybe other people won't either and then you're off the hook!

On the other hand, someone, probably a lot of someones, thought you did look like that, which also raises the probability that other people will think you look like that too. Now you're back on the hook again!

Unless the description was rather flattering, maybe it makes you taller and thinner. Yay! Don't go running around turning yourself in, or bragging to people about it though: "Oh hey! Did you see that robbery in the paper? Totally me! Isn't the description GREAT? They added about 2 inches and took off 10 pounds! Guess I don't need to go on that diet after all."

If there was a moral here it would be don't get murdered and need the CSI people to come to your house, unless you can set up a perfect "fake" house that they could investigate instead, you know one that's pretty free and clear of all the "crazy"? Also, if you commit a crime and the description of you in the paper or on the news is quite complimentary, be excited about it quietly otherwise you're definitely going to jail.

This isn't a real post, because it's Monday, and everybody knows that nothing real happens on Mondays

2009-06-29T14:10:00.004-05:00

Last night I pretty much had the perfect opportunity to really improve on the looks of this blog, but then I got all lazy and crabby and decided that if the boyfriend could sleep the evening away then I didn't want to do anything either! Besides, who told him he could sleep when I wanted to be entertained. It surely wasn't me because that's just wrong. If I'm home and I want to talk to you, even if it's about nothing you better be awake. And...hey! Why are you leaving the room again?? GET BACK HERE!

Apparently he thought I was being crabby too, but guess what? I get to be crabby when I had to work for 7 1/2 hours on a Sunday while standing the whole time (in the rain! Uphill! Both ways! omg!!)Besides, while I was trying to move the printer off the desk and onto a nearby table-like thing, I knocked over a lamp whose light bulb then hit my finger and burned it. THEN, while I was trying to locate some more batteries for my camera I stepped on a tack which promptly went right into my foot, as sharp objects are wont to do.

That's when I decided to just stop doing stuff because evidently doing stuff is bad for my health. Also, I didn't want to turn gimpy like M from the gym who stubbed like all her toes and had blisters and all kinds of stuff, which, in turn, caused her to work in her socks all day. Which, I could care less about, but still, gimpy.

So back to this blog...

I was going to write about how Transformers doesn't really suck despite what all the critics say like this guy and Willie Waffle. I'm not sure what movie they saw but obviously it was not the same one I saw, so I'm assuming they must have been drunk because I know I wasn't.

I will admit though that the first little bit of the movie was highly confusing since I had no clue what was going on since the only time I saw the first Transformers movie I was sleeping, so I wasn't really watching it so much as hearing it and that's not really the same.

Eventually (maybe Wednesday if I'm not completely unconscious the entire day - I'll probably explain later) I want to post some cool pics from the very first gig the boyfriend had at this coffee shop on Saturday.

The pictures are complete flukes for the most part. I only took them trying to get the settings right on the camera so I was randomly shooting art on the wall, potted plants, and the counter. So, of course, when the boyfriend, et al, finally got up there to play my stupid camera let me get one picture off then absolutely refused to do anything else.

When I went to edit the pictures last night I figured I'd just do a bunch of crazy stuff over and over to the same picture and hope nobody would notice. I'm sure they wouldn't have either except now I just told you, so it's going to be glareingly obvious. Obvious only if I ever actually post them. I'm going to try really hard. Sometimes the lazy just gets to be too much. Plus the room with the computer is like an oven it's so hot in there so that really detracts from the amount of time I want to spend in there. If it was a laptop and I had wireless internet, then I would just do it somewhere cooler. It's not though, so here we are, pictureless.

Plus I have this wicked picture of the gluton free mac & cheese that I turned smurf blue. At first I thought it was just regular mold, but then it would really have to be some sort of super mold because it really just looked like the noodles had turned blue randomly. Now I think it has something to do with the blue cheese I put in there. So the moral of that story is do not add blue cheese to mac & cheese that you don't intend to eat right away.

Things to come:
Random gig pictures, plus one of the boyfriend that I re-did like 10 times to make it seem like I didn't run out of battery power on the camera

Smurf blue, gluton free, mac & cheese pictures, plus one I added like every possible effect to in an effort to make it seem less freaky-food and more ART!

Awesome pics of some of the super pretty flowers growing in our yard that I wish I could take credit for planting but I can't, but I can take credit for the awesome pictures because I did take those all by myself! Props!!

So enjoy...eventually

You guys...I'm kinda a big deal, incase you didn't know

2009-06-25T15:17:00.005-05:00

While today has been a kinda shitty for most of the people around me, it's kind of turning out to be one of my best days EVAR! What really solidified it was having my comment on my all time, most favortist blogger's blog featured one of my comments as one of the comments of the day. I'm so not kidding. It's over on The Bloggess. You guys, I realize you know that I'm a big deal (probably because I just told you in the title of this post. You're welcome.)but, seriously, The Bloggess is a BIG DEAL. The one post I was featured on alone had 114 comments!

Also?? This was the very first comment I've ever left there because the awesomeness of The Bloggess is so strong that I usually feel waaaay too intimidated to type. Like my brain is kinda like "go for it", but my fingers are all "Dude? Are you serious up there? If this comment doesn't kick some serious ass The Bloggess might just come over here and chop us right the hell off!" So see? THIS IS A BIG DEAL!

Anyway - go over to The Bloggess not only to check out my comment but to just bask in the awesomeness of it all.

Maybe....someday...it'll allow you to be a big deal too. You're welcome. Again.

P.S. I've this this post now like three times (because my editing skillz suck yo!) and I realized that this post is pretty much made up of the words: awesome, serious, ass, and kick in various forms. Ok so I'm not always super high brow over here, but maybe you are one of those people having a totally shit day and now here you are readin this and you don't even have to think because I'm using the lowest form of the English language. Again...I say...You're welcome

Apparently my job hates me and wants me to live in a van down by the river

2009-06-24T16:52:00.003-05:00

As of today my job is costing me more money than am making. I'd say I'm not sure how this is happening, but I do know, it's just that I'm completely powerless to stop it. The easy solution here would be to quit...and yet here we are in a recession and with the highest unemployment rates since probably the Depression. So...

I'm not exactly a huge fan of my job. I mostly work here as a result of circumstance. I stay here for that same reason. Not for lack of trying mind you, this is all completely situational. It also means that I have a total lack of control over the things that are imposed on me.

Let's take a little look see back at the beginning:

October 2004: Lose my arts job in the big D to the C; Come back to J-Town and work at Gap over the Holiday Season

February 2005: Finally land a job in Mad-Town. Yay. Completely not arts related but what are you gonna do sometimes?

December 2007: Find out our largest client is being bought out by BoA (EVIl!) and we might lose our jobs. MERRY CHRISTMAS ASSHOLES!

February 2007: Land job with the el banco side of our company, which, obviously, since they said we were guaranteed positions with them if we applied. I'm preeeeety sure HR at el banco was none to pleased with this. Yet, I still had to go through three rounds of interviews.

October 2007: The first of many job decisions is made for me. What's great is that at first it was presented as an "option"...when I wasn't receptive to their "option" it became law. Extreme anger ensues.

Sometime a bit later in 2007: Realize getting paid mileage IS a pretty sweet deal. Yay money!! This feeling will not last.

Beginning of 2008: Told that the company is spending too much money sending me all over the place to work as the floater. (Who's fault is that again?? Not mine! I tried to tell you no...)Told I must start driving the company car. I am issued a company credit card though when I refuse to front the money for gas before getting reimbursed.

March 2008: Learn that I'm not getting the cost of living raise. I'm not getting any raise. Apparently you're not allowed to blow off steam at work...in front of your boss...Am told there will be a review in October at which time I'll most likely get my whopping 5%.

October 2008: No extra review...still no raise

November 2008: This sucks. All that extra money from getting mileage reimbursement is gone. Poof! I am not scrounging up money to pay for car insurance on MY car. A car I'm not even supposed to be driving...well at least to work. Not sure how to bring up that extra review we were supposed to be having.

March 2009: Review time again. it's also right around the same time we started a hiring freeze and announced lay offs. Lucky me I still have a job - but only because the person that was supposed to be at one of the locations quit since they made her mad too. Que: "Just be glad you have a job" refrains...from like....everyone

It's been decided that my current position is being eliminated, and I will fill in the spot currently open from where the other person quit. Awesome. Thanks for asking me what I wanted. Oh right, I don't get to make those kinds of decisions about my own career like...ever.

By the way? We're also taking back the company car and credit card...even though we know you really wanted to work where you are actually living and now will have a 20 minute daily commute that you need to front the gas for. All the time. From now until forever.

But! We're giving you your 5% raise and letting you keep a job! You can thank us later. We know...we're giving like that.

June 2009, Today : Coming up with gas money is increasingly hard. I haven't been able to completely fill my tank in months. Most of the bills are going unpaid and to add insult to injury, I've been appointed to (read: commanded to)be the spokes person for a "business success" group for our location. The group is based out of a city almost 2 hours away. The meetings are usually in the city which is 2 hours away or sometimes in one 45 minutes away.

Awesome.

Sure, I will eventually get gas reimbursement, but only after I front my own money for the gas to get there. I'm not sure my company got the memo on this...but gas? It's almost $3/gallon right now. Because it's summer. Because it's prime tourist season.

Later Today: I'm informed that our company has come out with this line (sorry...COLLECTION) of company apparel that is 100% certified organic cotton and that everyone else is buying this nifty green shirts from the "collection". The shirts at $30 a pop. I have to buy three different medications totaling around $30 not to mention buy "special bread" from my stupid autoimmune disease that costs $6/loaf and only lasts a week. In the refrigerator. In an air-tight container.

I'm not sure exactly what the cap is on your company forcing you to spend money, but I'm kind of reaching my limit. I think enough's enough.

I have a lot of anger right now, so if this post spontaneously combusts I'm sorry

2009-06-23T13:45:00.002-05:00

Two things - both of them were included in two separate posts on one of my favorite pop-culture blogs Mama Pop. The site and the writers aren't the problem by any means, its the stories. Well, I should say our American pop-culture is the problem. What I'm trying to say is, I eventually would have heard about either one of these at a later time from a different source and been as equally upset, it just so happens that Mama Pop got there first.

So the first was this story about the infamous Speidi. I don't care about the story so much - I mean really? How worked up can you really get if Speidi wants to go back on a reality TV show that they initially got mad at because it was "too hard". I'm not even sure why they cared, the fame-whores that they are.

No, the problem was this: remember back in college (I say college because that's when you were paying to go to class so really it was your dime you were wasting by being a big slacker)when you'd go to class everyday because, like me, you hated reading actual books, and really, why waste your time when your professor was just going to cover exactly what you needed to know to pass the class in a lecture.

Anyway - you'd show up, and maybe like, half the rest of the class would be there. So first 5 times or so, that this would happen, the professor would waste a good 20 minutes ranting about how the other half of the class wasn't showing up and they were just wasting their own money by doing this and how were they going to pass if they weren't there to hear the lecture - but he/she was ranting to the people who were there. So way to waste even more time...time that we are paying for you to be teaching.

That's the problem with the Speidi article. It talks, briefly, about them going back to the show and then continues on about how we all waste so much time talking about these people, whom we don't even care about, thereby giving them even more press and just continuing to feed the fire.

This happens All. The. Time. So just stop! Or...if you can't stop...then just say what you need to say about their current project/mishap/appearance, and move on. Cease wasting time telling us how you can't believe you're wasting time talking about it in the fist place, because now? You're wasting my time...doubly so because now you've made me mad and I'm blogging about it and thereby wasting other peoples' time...my GOD let's just stop the insanity already!

Secondly was this article which is basally something about Oprah and KFC's new grilled chicken and a bunch of people who were supposed to get these free grilled chicken meals, but KFC ran out? And then they told the people well we'll give you IOU's and a free Pepsi, but you need to mail in the old coupon so we can send you a new coupon. You'll get the new coupon in a few weeks though, so hold tight ok?

Apparently this angered, like, everyone, not so much because KFC ran out of the free food at the time, but because, apparently running out of food, and then offering a free soda when it came time to redeem the new coupon, was completely unacceptable. Additionally these people were completely outraged by KFC's attempt to reconcile the problem because they shouldn't have had to pay for the postage, and paper and whatever else to get this new coupon.

Yeah - so now they are SUING KFC over this FREE MEAL. SUING. What??

Ok, listen up you redneck, gift-horse in the mouth looking hillbillies. I was in the hospital for over a month last year because my doctor's kept almost killing me. I now I have a hideous foot long scar and have developed an auto-immune disease.

Rightfully, I should be able to sue the crap out of my doctors and the hospital, who misdiagnosed my burst appendix, not once but three times . Most people die shortly after their appendix bursts, but I can't, because I don't have the money necessary to get a lawsuit off the ground.

Yet these people, who apparently are in "desperate need" of some free KFC have enough money to get a class-action suit off the ground over FREE FOOD. FREE FOOD from KFC. Have I mentioned it was FREE??

I'm just wondering exactly what is wrong with this country? This country that continually fills me with rage over these idiots who inhabit it.

If you've never seen the movie Idiocracy, you might want to go rent it like, now. That movie? That is where the future is headed, so you might want to prepare yourselves. I'm just sayin.

I need better stories about where our stuff came from, and then new friends who will believe those stories

2009-06-22T10:36:00.003-05:00

This weekend we had a little Father’s Day cookout at the new house. I was in the kitchen with the boyfriend’s sister, B, when the following conversation took place:

Setting: My kitchen

Conversation Reference: Large, worn gold plate with Aztec stampings. It lives on a plate stand above the kitchen cabinets and we have it under lit with white rope lights.

B: That’s cool, where did you guys get that?

What pretty much anyone else would have said:
“Oh that! We picked that up on our last jaunt to France. We were biking through the South and we saw the most adorable, old, blind, crippled, man who was selling these plates. He does it all by hand, by feel, in this dilapitaed old shed. He does all this to raise money to get his only daughter a new kidney. Just amazing. How could we not buy it?”

What actually happened:
“Oh that! Last year at Halloween it was out in the foyer at Goodwill as part of this Egyption-Halloween display. I mean I know it’s not Egyption or whatever, but the boyfriend asked if it was for sale and it was so we bought it!”

Other objects above the kitchen cabinets and their stories:

Red/Orange/Yellow Plate in stand under lit with white Christmas lights:
Pier one; However! This was bought to replace a plate that was broken by my rampaging cats and THAT plate had a cool story. I mean not as cool as the blind, old, crippled guy raising money for a kidney, but cooler then “It came from Pier One”

Cake Stand with cover made to look like 4-layer strawberry cake with Cool Whip:
My grandma in Tennessee made it and promised it to me when I was very very young.

Strawberry patterned plate in stand:
I thought it was a cool piece of old china, because the pattern is actually very retro looking. I got it at Goodwill. When I got it home I was cleaning it up and noticed on the back it said “Dishwasher Safe”…it might as well be a piece of Corningware.

Maybe I’ll just start telling people I made all this stuff and it’s for sale to benefit me! I’d still probably need new friends though…like the kind with lots of money to buy my stuff that they actually thought I made. In my shed! In the dark! Amazing!

Friday Bonus Edition: Awesome Shit I Just Found

2009-06-19T14:38:00.006-05:00

It's probably painfully obvious that on Fridays I don't feel so much like working as I do obsessivly cruisin' the 'net. Don't judge me! Besides it's win-win because then I come back here and tell you about it too. Plus I've heard something about procastinating alone being like drinking alone. I don't know if that's true (probably because the bird that keeps knocking its head on my office window told me and even if he doesn't seem all that bright, he's very determined, and dogged persistance must prove something....right??)

Basically since I set foot inside the building today I've been pretty much doing nothing right and at this point I give up. Now we're coming to the part of the day where people are tending to fight with me about nothing, which ,I discussed the other day and I'm totally over that.

Anyway!

I was doing my daily (read: hourly) puruse of my regular blog haunts, and came across this posted on Good Mom/Bad Mom who finds the coolest stuff possibly ever. Seriously. If you did not check out that link (either of them, really) you're missing out. And that's not my fault.

For once.

Honestly though, would you not buy that for your kid? Or your friend's kid? Who doesn't want to be known as the coolest parent/aunt/uncle on the block? Nobody.(You see what I did there? I put the link in twice that's how bad I want you to go look at "it. Look! There it is again. Will you just click on it already??)

One of the other sites I read is PostSecret. This site only posts on Sundays. And they don't archieve. So bascially if you miss a week, you miss a week. Tough titties.

Well, unless you're me and you decide to google it juuuussst to make sure and then you find one of the most hilarious sites that you've seen in a long time.

If you don't know how PostSecret works, here is the explaination directly from their site:

"PostSecret is an onging community art project where people mail in their secrets annonymously on one side of a postcard."

They even have a multitude of books which I would purchase were I not so poor and they didn't cost, in some cases, over $20 a pop. Yikes. So anyway...for now I'll stick with reading my Sunday Secrets.

Ok! So this other site is Post-It Secret and according to that site:

"Post-it Secret was an ongoing blog where post-it notes came to confess their dirty and not so dirty secrets!"

Awesome.

I read a few pages of posts, they got a little repetitive after awhile but I still think it's a hilarious rip-off of, or tribuite to, depending on how you look at it, PostSecret.

Where PostSecret is a collection of annoymously sent postcards that people have written secrets on, sent in from all corners of the world. Post-it Secrets are essecntially the dark, secret thoughts of your post-its. Yes. Like those little yellow squares that sit innocently on your desk. They have a whole lot to say and it's not always pretty.

Here are a couple of examples to cut down on the anticipation of it all:

Robert Goulet totally comes into your house and messes with your stuff

2009-06-19T11:06:00.007-05:00

Do you remember those Emerald Nuts commericals where once people started hitting their 3pm slump Robert Goulet would appear and mess with their stuff?

After doing some biased, non-scientific research, I feel confident saying that Robert Goulet is coming into your home at 3pm and messing with your stuff.

How do I know this?

My missing armband for my iPod? In some totally random box with a bunch of the boyfriend's junk.

Missing plastic cover for my iTouch screen? In the same totally random boyfriend box.

Best Friend's 5 sticks of perfectly usable butter? MISSING.

I know...I know...this is quite shocking. Isn't it nice to know you have an out though? I mean missing homework? Robert Goulet! Missing pet? Robert Goulet! Missing bills? Robert Goulet!

In fact, now that I hink about it, I bet half this economic downturn can all be traced back to a few 3pm slumps that Robert Goulet took advantage of. I mean the bill was in the mail!!!! I swear! Goulet!!!!! **shakes fist at sky**

See?

The moral of the story is to stay alert people! Do not become a victim of Robert Goulet's masterful stealth spy skills.

P.S.: Apparently this post was brough to you by Emerald Nuts

P.P.S: Emerald Nuts doesn't know that they sponsored this post...

P.P.P.S: They probably wouldn't sponsor it even if it was some pretty darn good free advertising.

P.P.P.P.S: Goulet!!!!!!!

I'm exhausted so I'm waving my white flag, see it? Over there? No?

2009-06-18T15:58:00.003-05:00

Seriously? What's going on here lately? By "here" I mean like "in the world" not "here" as in "on this blog". And that? Was a riduclious amount of quotes. Sorry. Where were we? **ahem** Oh yes, so what's going on in the world. Pretty much every time I turn around these last few days someone wants to get into a disagreement.

I'll totally admit that a lot of times I tend to be a weeeeeeee bit combatative. I'm not going to lie. I've never been one to back down from a fight. Most people run in the opposite direction of confrontation, but me? I run straight towards it.

However, I also know how to pick my battles.

Yet, they seem to keep picking me the last few days. What's up??

Go to job #2 and it's all:
"Everyone just keeps complaining all the time!" - Mngr

"Uh, well this is true but usually people also try and offer a solution..." - Me

"Complaints!! All the time!! We need solutions!" - Mngr

"I was trying to give you..." - Me

"I'm so sick of all these complaints!" - Mngr

and so on...

Go to my actual J-O-B and it's:
"The reports don't lie!! I don't care what you say!" - CSM Mngr

"Ok - well that's fine, but I know what I did and..." - Me

"The reports. Don't. Lie!" - CSM Mngr

"I get what you're saying, but I'm telling you what I know I did and..." - Me

"Well I just don't see it because the reports..." - CSM Mngr

"Ok whatever I'll just run it again and we'll be done with it" - Me

"No! We need to figure this out!!" - CSM Mngr

"I agree, but I mean I know what I know and if you just are going off the reports and the reports apprently don't show it then..." - Me

"The reports are God's truth!!!!!" - CSM Mngr

"Really, I can just run it again and we can stop..." - Me

and so on....for 20 minutes...with me ultimately just running the report again like I suggested in the first place

Go back to job #2:
Picking up right where we left off the first time...
"I think I finally see what you're saying." - Mngr

"Good! I just think the way you want this presented is confusing, for everyone." - Me

"Well I know what you think but we want it this other way. " - Mngr

"Ok...and that' fine, do what you want, I'm just trying to understand the logic behind it." - Me

"The logic is that's the way we're doing it. That's just the way it is" - Mngr

"That's fine, I just find it confusing for the customers. You said we were simplifying things and yet here they are getting all complicated again." - Me

"I'm telling you - this is just the way it is" - Mngr

"Ok...that's fine.." - Me

"I mean you can take this up with the owner." - Mngr

"That's not what I'm getting at I'm just trying to understand..." - Me

"This is just the way it is!!" - Mngr

and so on.

Why everyone is so fiesty right now is beyond me. That or the moral of the story is to just not try and understand things anymore and shut up about reports and fix them yourself. Clearly talking gets you nowhere except exhausted

I'm going to bed!

Parking Wars: My Driveway Edition; Part Two: It's 5am for the lovagod!

2009-06-17T16:47:00.001-05:00

In our last edition I gave a pretty good background on the current shared driveway scenario. In a nutshell: It sucks. You can read part one here if you forgot or just never read it in the first place – which really I find hard to believe because why would you even do that? **Shakes head**

In part two of the Parking Wars series we are going to discuss neighbors who, apparently, have not yet realized that it’s not 10 degrees outside in the mornings anymore. Yeah, I’m not sure if you got the memo, but it’s spring, hedging on summer. I agree, it’s a very cold spring/summer thus far, but I think we can all agree it is still well above a bracing 10 degrees.

One of the guys that lives in the Big House across the shared drive has a full size extended cab diesel truck. So not only does he end up sticking waaaaay out into the driveway (shared driveway), but his truck is loud. Very, very loud.

Guess what this neighbor’s very favorite activity is at 6am? Starting his truck. Which, obviously he’s going to have to do at some point if he ever wants to get to work so that part’s understandable. What's not, though, is why he then has to let it idle for the next twenty minutes. Why?? Why is this??

In a conversation with another neighbor I was expressing my growing frustration at being literally shocked awake at 6am when his truck starts and then praying to go deaf for the next twenty minutes so that I can go back to bed. This neighbor said that when it’s very cold out you do need to start a vehicle that runs on diesel awhile before you go somewhere. He said typically this only need to be done if it’s around 10 degrees or colder. Not 10 degrees or warmer.

The coldest its been since we moved in was probably 34 degrees in the morning. That’s still not 10 degrees. Lately it’s been in the 50’s. That’s really not 10 degrees. I just do not understand this. It reminds me of one of the apartments I lived where all my windows looked right out onto the parking lot…including my bedroom window, and some guy would get home at a crazy late/early time with his crotch rocket and feel the need to not only let it idle, but occasionally rev the engine.

Right now the only way I can think of to make a point that this is a problem is go make the boyfriend go outside at 6am and plug in his acoustic/electric guitar into an amp, crank it and play very loudly from the moment the truck starts until he finally pulls out of the driveway.

Then as our neighbor is driving away the boyfriend can wave and smile and be all “you have a good day now”. This is also why I don’t care when on the weekends when I’m hoping the neighbors are still trying to sleep, the boyfriend goes outside and plays guitar and sings.

Otherwise I got nothin'

Next up: Parking Wars: My Driveway Edition; Part Three: Oh right, I forgot your special cuz you live ON THE RIVER

Hum...maybe I'm NOT so good with the kiddos

2009-06-16T16:58:00.002-05:00

This was written awhile back when the boyfriend and I were still living in my apartment. While I had forgotten about it until recently, I still think it's worth sharing. Please to enjoy.

SCENE: My apartment on a Sunday morning. The boyfriend and I have his son, Little D, and are quizzing him about what he likes to do BESDIES playing video games.

BOYFRIEND (to Little D): So what kinds of things do you do at home? Things that AREN’T playing video games?

LITTLE D: Uhhhhhh, I don’t know. Read books?

BOYFRIEND: Books! That’s cool! Like what kind of books? (Pretty much just relieved to get an answer that doesn’t involve TV in some way, shape, or form)

LITTLE D: Uhhhhhh, like comic books.

BOYFRIEND: That’s cool! I like comic books too! We have a lot in common huh!?! (I’m pretty sure he was trying on purpose to be overly psyched but who knows?)

ME: (To both of them) Gosh! That’s all just so WEIRD! It’s like you’re RELATED or something! Huh….

**crickets** And theeennnn we had to change the subject. Some people just have NO sense of humor. Losers.

At least we aren't BOTH packrats

2009-06-12T15:27:00.002-05:00

Not only is this your super awesome bonus post but it's also a Real Conversation! Score! Plus it's Friday so how much better can this get? Answer: not much!!

Back when the boyfriend and I were still working on moving into the new place - our house (ok well not our house because its still a rental - but a house nonetheless) we were very excited to finally have actual room for all our (read: the boyfriend's) stuff!

I'm personally not a huge packrat because I tend to move at least once a year, if not more. For this reason I need to keep it pretty simple. The boyfriend? Not so much. Thennnnnn we had the following conversation one day during our moving exploits.

SCENE: Outside the new house. I'm preparing to make another trip to the apartment to bring more stuff back.

BOYFRIEND: Hey why don't you bring back some plates and glasses and stuff so that we can eat while we're moving.

ME: Ok - why do I need to bring glasses though? Didn't we just bring over a box that is actually marked "glasses"? Why don't you just unpack that one?

BOYFRIEND: No, those are glasses glasses, like for your face.

ME: I see - so you have an entire box dedicated just to glasses.

BOYFRIEND: Yes.

ME: Oh boy.

I’d like to think something like a box packed full of “glasses, like for your face” will remain packed and then find its way to the shed. Please o please o please!!

UPDATE: Since I wrote this that box of "glasses, like for your face"? It's currently unpacked and they are all sitting in their respective cases on my chest of drawers in the bedroom. I finally got him to agree to a nice basket we saw at a neighbor's rummage sale which I thought would be a lovely way to kind of corral them all in a non-hideous way....the basket is currently sitting on the side of the chest of drawers....filled with socks....**sigh**

Canes of mass destruction

2009-06-12T09:50:00.003-05:00

You ever notice how old people who are using a mobile aid seem to be just fakin’ it half the time? Like, rather than pushing their walker they are practically carrying it? Or that cane they suddenly use as a dance prop? Filthy liars. I’m pretty sure they’re just vying for more attention. Obviously. That or they just want to mess with you simply because they can.

Like yesterday – I had to go to Wally World to pick up a prescription (shut it! It’s like $30 cheaper than Walgreens!) Of course, right as I’m walking in, this ancient women in this mobile wheelchair-connected-to-a-shopping-cart thing gets in front of me. And. Goes. Very. Very. Slowly. Like you’d think the thing hadn’t been charged since Moses parted the Red Sea or something.

Of course where do old people go? If you said anything other than the pharmacy, Robert Goulet is gonna be at your house tomorrow at 3pm to mess with your stuff. And you deserve it. Yeah, I’m an asshole, but cutting off biblically old people at the Wal-Mart would probably result in some sort of lynch mob. I really don’t want to find out.

So, I’m behind her. Walking. Very. Very. Slowly. I mean like snails and turtles and stuff were flying by us. We get to the pharmacy area and I also now have to buy a razor because I look like a French Hippie my legs are so hairy. What does this woman do? Oh that’s right, she hits turbo on her chair and **zoom** literally takes off leaving me in a cloud of Wal-Mart floor dirt. The hell?

Why exactly didn’t this happen like 10 years ago? Whatever – shake it off.

Theeeen about 15 or so minutes later, the boyfriend and I are pursing the shampoo isle (yeah I didn’t do so good with the dirt-ass cheap shampoo) and guess who’s blocking my view of half of the products? Yep – the first woman on earth. Still in her mobile wheelchair/shopping cart thing. This time, another woman is with her as well. Of course I smile and act like it’s totally no big deal that I can’t even look at half the shampoos. Who cares? I’m already rockin’ the Hippy thing from it taking half a century to get to the pharmacy so who needs clean hair right? I’ll just mash it into dreads so that’s totally cool.

Eventually they leave and I zone in on the area they were previously blocking. But what’s that sound off to my right there? Oh! It’s Grandma Moses in the chair hittin’ it in reverse. Then forward. Then reverse. Then forward. The hell??

I’m trying to avoid eye contact because I have a sneaking suspicion that she wants me to move so she can just barrel down the isle and go positively **zooming** on her way. In fact, I half expected the boyfriend to be all “Hey asshole, move your giant butt and let the woman through” (you know, to me, not to the old woman). He was apparently too intent on finding just the right hair gel though. Luckily for me. Not so lucky for Grandma Moses.

Also? Why she just didn’t pull a U’ey in the isle? I have no idea. Again: whatever, because soon enough I hear her kick it into turbo once again and **zoom** away. Seriously.

Listen up old people – I’m not sure what game you’re playing at out there – but apparently it’s working cuz I’m so mad I’m blogging about it. So you win for now. For now.

Old people:2 Me: 0

Hopefully you're better at following your life guideposts than me

2009-06-11T13:29:00.003-05:00

A few years ago I met the most incredible person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Then, a few short months later, she suddenly passed away, and I was completely destroyed.

Her name is Liz and not only was she beautiful outside, but just as beautiful on the inside as well. I know lots of people are probably described that way, but I really, truly mean this. Liz was generous, kind, funny and extremely talented. She was the person that I wish I could be. She was the person that everyone should want to be.

Liz was also my tattoo artist and I will struggle with finding someone to "replace" her probably for the rest of my life. This is an important distinction in this story though.

See, the other day at my part-time job, a customer came in and was sporting a freshly finished tattoo. It was fine as far as tattoos go - especially considering it was done in the city where I currently live (I'm probably being elitist, but most of the tattoo artists in my town don't do custom work and that's a huge red flag) (The tattoo artists changing around a few of the colors is not indicative of custom work. FYI).

This customer went on to explain that it was his very first tattoo and he hadn't really put a lot of thought into it, he just knew he wanted one (mistake! I'm sure even Liz would agree with that!) It did represent his interests though, so he obviously didn't just walk up to the wall, spin himself around a few times and get the first thing his finger landed on (Never do this! You will probably end up with a yellow rose wrapped around a skeleton holding a sword or something equally hideous. Unless that's what you've always wanted forever and ever...then yay you!)

Basically though, I was more skeptical than I was excited for this guy, primarily due to the reasons I just mentioned and that the tattoo artist said it was totally ok for this guy to hit the gym directly afterwards. I have 7 tattoos myself so I'm fairly qualified to make these sorts of judgements. Although I probably should just make them in my head.

The guy was super happy though, and clearly excited to show of his fresh ink, so really that's all that should have mattered in the grand scheme of things, and off he goes to and do whatever it was he came to the gym to do, and then I started feeling like the asshole I probably am. The more I recall our exchange, the more ass holey I feel.

Sometimes, after I find myself in certain situations, I'll reflect back and think about how Liz would have handled the situation. Usually I realize it would have been with a heck of a lot more grace and class. Or at least nicer. Then I think to myself "Ok, so next time we're gonna handle this better, right? Right!" Then next time comes around and I'm typically an asshole yet again.

Anyway.....

I've been thinking this tattoo situation over...and last night I started getting really maudlin about it. Liz's beautiful face kept popping into my head and I would imagine her having this same "new tattoo" discussion with this guy, and I realized she would have been really encouraging and excited for him. Even if she didn't necessarily agree with it or him, I'm sure she wouldn't have turned into Debbie Downer like I did.

See, I have a bad habit of, as the boyfriend would say, "ruining it". Someone else is happy about something and I come along all critical and smarty-pants and crush that high. The worst part is I just can't stop myself. It's not like it happens all the time for every little thing, but usually on things that are either wholly or partially questionable (to me).

People tell stories for a reason and it's not always to just pass the time or fill the silence. People tell stories so that everyone else can experience their same emotions - happy or not. We want those around us to share in our expediences and we want to know that someone else is on our side or at least agrees with us.

I don't "ruin it" on purpose, because I wouldn't want anyone to do it to me - but my stupid analytical brain gets in the way, and while my head is working in overdrive, I lose what little control I have over my mouth and out spews my verbal vomit.

Some people would probably just tell me to try and censor myself better. Maybe. I think the bigger issue is being able to shut off my asshole brain for a second and just be happy for the person or at least get caught up in their excitement (or sadness whichever the case may be at the time).

I love talking about Liz, and remembering her and trying to bring her light into other people's lives. I'll always be striving to become as beautiful of a person as she was, and continues to be, with her amazing spirit. Apparently I need to be trying harder though.

Liz - yet another vodka/7 toast to you - vodka/7 with double lime....always double lime.

If you post it, it will become radio fodder

2009-06-10T16:55:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I posted part one of what I think will be a three part series regarding the current parking war occuring in my shared driveway.

Today on Connie & Fish's morning show on Z104, guess what they were talking about? Annoying neighbors! And guess what else? I can't wait for you to guess so I'm just gonna tell you: Fish made a comment about house neighbors being more annoying than apartment neighbors for the exact reasons I talked about.

It's like the Twilight Zone but for blogs.

Or I'm just far ahead of my time. By like a day.

Parking Wars: My Driveway Edition, Part One

2009-06-08T16:58:00.008-05:00

Well hello! I trust you had a great weekend. Or maybe not as your instant karma for having one last weekend. I'm just kidding (Maybe).

As you know I'm now the "proud" resident of an actual house. I still have some mixed feelings about it, but I was excited to hope that maybe...just maybe it would mean the end of battling with neighbors. The end of wondering when, if ever, they would finally, mericfully, turn the music down. Hopeing that maybe when they get home at the crack of dawn they'll think "hey - you know, we should totally keep it down. Like, other people might be trying to actually sleep or something. So, tonight, lets not talk loudly on our porch at 3am. Lets not stomp up and down the stairs. Lets not scream at each other in the parking lot. Lets surely not do any of those things"

If you have not lived in an actual house since you left your parents' house, you probably get a lot of homeowners trying to convince you how great it is to not share a wall with someone. Everything is just so damn peachy in home-dwellingsville why wouldn't everyone want to do this??

LIARS!!

Home dwellers have just as many, if not more problems with neighbors as apartment/condo/duplex dwellers do. They are just dirty liars who lie so you will join them on the dark side. Noisy neighbors? Check! Loud talking outside at 3am neighbors? Check! Violating your property line? Double Check!!

I've never been disillusioned by this. I know. I've always known. Neighbors just always suck. That's life. In fact, during my apartment days, I felt slightly better than these home dwellers because one call to my landlord and the problem was pretty much fixed. If you live in a house? Good luck my friend!

Well....now I live in a house....a house with a shared driveway. With not just one other house...but two others houses. Yes that's right my little mathematicians....one driveway for three houses.

Let the games begin!

Initally the boyfriend and I were parking our one car as close to the house as possible. There is a space behind the house to park, but at the time we had yet to get a magnet roller to take care of getting the metal debris, like rusty nails, out of the way so that we wouldn't pop my extremly expensive tires.

Let me draw you a mental picture if you will: When you come to our house there is one driveway entrance. It goes between the big house (not ours) on the left and a small house (ours!) on the right. The big house dwellers (our landlord's nephews) park their two huge 4x4 full size trucks and one older black Bonneville along side the big house - so the left side of the drive. This leaves enough room for my car to drive up and park alongside our house on the left

Which would be fine except for that third house, which is behind our house and the big house.

See actual map - (also try not to laugh, there's really only so much I can do with Microsoft Word/Paint here people!)

Those little squares over there along the big house represent the trucks sticking out into the shared drive.

Anyway, the third house people are really only there on the weekends because it's their "summer house". Well la di da! So here they come one day - bright and early in the morning with their van pulling a pontoon boat! At the time, I was parked like so:

(I made my car purple...naturally)

The night before we had been moving for over 12 hours including not only our stuff but my friend and the boyfriend's sister's stuff as well. Once we finally had gotten around it making it food it was only then I realized we had no forks, so I made the treck back the the old apartment to get them and was too tired to think about people arriving at the crack of dawn with boats and vans. I figured no big deal - I'll park super close to the house everything will be fine...no bring on the foooood!

Obviously that didn't work out. When we finally heard the neighbors of the third house knocking they proceeded to lecture the boyfriend about the shared driveway and sharing. Blah blah blah. Then we just decided - screw it and started parking on our front lawn all ghetto style.

Then we come home one night to find some random person parked in our actual designated spot - you know...the one filled with possible sharp metal debris! Which - ok yeah, at the time we were surely not going to park there what with the sharp metal debris...but still. Um...that would be our one spot, aside from the lawn on which to park. At the time we figured - hey what the heck. YOU wanna pop your tires (which I was secretly really hoping would be the case - serve ya right!) knock yourself out buddy.

Still - this will be unacceptable once we get that shit magnet rolled. Which we did like the next day.

Now we get to park in our "spot"....not blocking the shared -yes we get it TRUST ME driveway.

Interestingly - the big house neighbors still like to take pretty much any and all opportunities to point out when we might possibly be even thinking about maybe blocking the shared driveway.

Maybe I need to slip them a xanex....

Next up - Parking Wars: My Driveway Edition; Part Two: It's 5am for the loveagod!

Thursday Potluck: More on "the move", why I'm a bad person, and internet pOrn gone wrong

2009-06-04T13:10:00.003-05:00

I was just re-reading some of my more recent posts - and woah there! How depressing have I been? Sometimes that just happens. So today I'm going to try very hard to be more charming and less "stand back at least 5 feet to avoid losing a limb".

The ongoing moving saga: Happily things are looking up! Lately I've been the one out running around while the boyfriend has been at home unpacking and hanging up pictures. It's so great to come home and see progress being made I cannot even tell you. Granted - most of them were his boxes to unpack anyway, but it's just good to see some of them being emptied! Sweet relief.

I do need to note that last night the boyfriend was attempting to prepare dinner and while I was getting ready in the adjacent bathroom I could hear a lot of cupboard door slamming, banging around and swearing. Basically he didn't know where anything was in the kitchen, which he later expressed to me. Do I care that you can't find anything? Not really. It wasn't like I was invisible when I was unpacking the kitchen. At any point I would have been more than willing to have some help or input on where things so go. I told him he was more than welcome to rearrange it, but if he doesn't want to then that's his business.

I was also informed that I have "taken over" the bathroom adjacent to the kitchen. Again - I would refer you to the above kitchen discussion. Also? I'm a girl - it's what happens....I don't know why this is surprising at all.

Anyway - the point is it's all good.

It's so good that last night after I got back from Madison at 11:15pm (more on that in a minute) I even stopped and picked up a pineapple and hot sauce for the boyfriend. Don't ask - it's his favorite snack not mine!

Why I'm a bad person: Well I'm not that bad really. I just feel like it. I always said that it was ridiculous to get rid of a pet. I mean, you knew what you were getting into and your pet becomes a member of your family. I mean if your kids are being destructive and obnoxious you can't just ship them off to a Child Humane Society (although think of the possibilities! Like if there were a place like that, except for leaving them there permanently it was just this place you left for like a few hours to show 'em who's boss. Then maybe you come back later and pick them back up. See if they ever do that again!)

One of my biggest peeves was people getting rid of their pets because of someone else. I just couldn't understand it. Love me love my pets. End of story.

This is why you never say never.

It's not as though the boyfriend didn't like the cats...but he was severely allergic. He did manage to get some pretty good allergy pills, but he was sick of the cat hair, as was I, and, being a bad person I just didn't have the time to brush them or give them regular baths. The cats not the boyfriend.

Additionally, we are living in yet another place that would rather us not have cats. This whole situation works out well for my mom who has always hated that I had cats and my sister who I'm pretty sure was also against it as well. Haters: 3 Me: 0

Happily though, they were taken in last night my one of my very close friends. She's fairly well acquainted with the cats so it was a pretty comfortable transition. Having their own stuff around them like litter box, food bowls and toys probably helped too. I'm sure they are completely stoked that they aren't locked away in one little room a la Anne Frank anymore.

I still feel like a bad person. **sigh**

Which brings us to....

Internet *pOrn* gone wrong: This is pretty amusing actually. I had a customer who we noticed looked like they had some unauthorized transactions. Before the person came in I was doing some research on the purchases and it revealed that they were for different *pOrn* sites.

I was pretty skeeved out. Not because I'm being a prude, but because there were LOTS and LOTS of these charges. LOTS. So...ewwww. Also? How in the world was I going to just casusually ask if they were in the habit of apparently doing nothing but watching Internet *pOrn*?

Later in the day the customer showed up....after a brief discussion it came out that the customer had one time signed up for an "adult entertainment" site (I figured the term "adult entertainment" was more appropriate in a business setting that repeatedly using the term *pOrn*) but had cancelled the membership after a week.

Since then the customer had noticed random transactions occurring on the account yet didn't do anything about them. Interesting. I can guarantee you that if something was randomly pulling $20-$40 from my account multiple times a month I'd have been in long ago.

In fraud cases we can only go back 60 days. This means I could only go back until April. Just in that period of time between April and now there were roughly 40 transactions including international service fees, that added up to about $630. That's only the ones I could count in the case. This did not include anything prior, which, in one case, there was a single charge for almost $100.

Your Thursday Learning Moment is: 1) Never use your credit card or debit card on unsecured sites online (like *pOrn* you pervs!) b) If you notice weird charges on your account I'd go to the bank ASAP III) I'm not sure why anyone is paying for Internet *pOrn* when I'm sure there's tons for free.

This was brought to you by the letter "C" and number 17

Your male PMS is completely destroying my my sanity so KNOCK IT OFF

2009-05-29T16:34:00.004-05:00

I was all set to have this crazy rant of a post once again, but I've completely run out of steam here. I'm exhausted to the point where the bags under my eyes have their own bags. I'm bored to the point of numbness, sitting at work, and staring at the seemingly beautiful day that lies just beyond my office window and therefore just out of reach.

I long to be at the point where the moving is all done, my old apartment has cleaned its self, the cats have found a new and better home, and everything in the new place has been put away or at least is hiding behind a closet door where I can't see it.

Right now, I feel like we will never get to this point.

What surely is not helping is that apparently every man on the face of the earth is PMS'ing at the exact same time. Was there some sort of lunar change that I wasn't aware of? Not that I'm in the habit of following the cycles of the moon, but seriously.

While I'm attempting to get the rest or our stuff moved....alone, and put away our stuff in the new place...alone, and trying to find a better home for my cat that you knew I had.....alone, I need to not have to deal with male PMS right now. I have enough going on thankyouverymuch.

Also? You know what's really not helpful? When you decide that you're "tired" and go to bed at 5:30 in the evening! Meanwhile I brought over a car load of stuff....washed the floors...organized the utility room....and put together the "office". It was really great when I was attempting to put away kitchen stuff and you got all huffy because you were trying to sleep on the couch at 5:30 in the evening. Guess what? People who sleep for like 12 hours at a time? Don't get to complain when the other person works all day too, then comes home and has to deal with complete chaos alone.

That's fine...because the sooner all this is over the sooner I can attempt to regain my sanity.

P.S. I have a potential home for my cats, but nothing is certain. I really don't want to take them to the Humane Society because I'm fairly certain they will put Noel down. If you can help out and take two wonderful cats that need more attention and care then I can seem to give them please let me know! I appreciate it!!

Can you tell I'm spectacularly bored?

2009-05-28T13:52:00.003-05:00

Yeah, yeah, one post a day is probably enough. Especially since that post was a whole 5 minutes ago. Whatever. You know you want more! Also? I need to kill sometime before my webinar starts. I probably should be spending that time getting more caffeinated beverages.

Anyway....

This man that the boyfriend works with, wrote this book. It's actually a self-published book, so basically that means he had to front all the money to make it happen. I researched it for a bit yesterday and...damn! That shit's expensive!

The thing is I don't really like it. The book, not the self-publishing, although that is half the problem with me not liking the book in the first place. See....it either wasn't edited like, at all, or, it was edited by a blind monkey. I'm not sure. Tenses are all over the place and sometimes change twice in a single paragraph. The word "its" not in the possessive (so not "it is") is always followed by an apostrophe so it reads like this: its'

I'm not a big fan of fiction lately either, but I've also never read a fiction work about a serial killer, which is what this book is about, so the genre isn't really up my alley. That's not to say that it would never be, I'm sure that could probably be fixed with slightly better writing. Slightly better writing that also involves the extensive use of a thesaurus.

I was really hoping that maybe the boyfriend would forgot I said I was taking the book to read on lunch so that I wouldn't have to talk about it because, well, how do you tell someone that you don't like their friend's book?

Of course, the boyfriend thought I was just being my overly critical self. Although, I must say, I did run this past three other people prior to having to fess up on my feelings. I think I was as tactful as possible. I get that nobody wants to just hear a bunch of criticism though. Ah, honesty, such a bitter pill.

Even after all this, I decided to take another stab at it today. This is when I decided that I was completely done trying. I see it as an extreme sentence FAIL.

I'm pretty understanding of quite a bit of things I think. I can at least see the other point of view even if I don't agree with it. However, some things are so offensive that there's just no getting around it, regardless of what the explanation might be. Ok, so here goes. Remember I did not write this:

"Polly Kelvin is beautiful in all measures of sexuality and luxury that most men would rape for."

Yeah.

What??!!???

So that concludes my reading of that book. Ironically, I had not put a bookmark in from the last time I attempted a reading, and this sentence was pretty much where I opened the book up to. I'm going to go ahead and take that as a sign.

Scenes from the Walmart, or, Why you can't take me anywhere

2009-05-28T13:20:00.003-05:00

Setting: Super Walmart

Cast: Myself
Best Friend

Supporting members:
Male, probably in his mid-teens, tall, scrawny. Wearing gray camo-print hoodie/jacket thing, oversized gray camo-print pants. His hair is some sort of crazy muellet/rat tail situation – cut very close in front and back except for this REALLY long pony tail. It almost looks like he just pinned it to the lower part of his head. We’ll call him Camo

Female, probably in early to mid teens, short, average weight. She is also wearing gray camo-print jacket, with jeans and sneakers. We’ll call her Camolette

Annnnd….ACTION:

Best Friend and I approach an aisle, as we do Camo walks by, closely followed by Camolette, who is talking at him. At first I’m too distracted by the clothing options to listen to what Camolette is saying. Then think I hear her saying something about being at Culver’s for three years?? It’s unclear.

As they pass Best Friend and I watch them go and make big eyes at each other.

Me: (gesturing with an open hand palm facing the retreating backs of Camo and Camolette) That?? Is why I don’t do Wal-Mart. That right there.

Best Friend: Well I just heard [Camolette] say she wore her Converse for three years and they smell. Well YEAH they would smell if you wore them for three years.

~Fin~

Setting: Same night, Super Walmart

Cast: Myself
Best Friend

Supporting members:
Unassuming woman probably in her late 40’s early 50’s.

Annnnnd…ACTION:

Best Friend and I approach the shampoo isle. A woman is already in said isle browsing the shampoos.

Me: Ok how does this work? I don’t do cheap shampoos so what do you do exactly?

The woman steals glances at me with almost a sense of wonder like “who ARE you?”

Me: Yeah, I guess this is what happens when you’re poor – you get bad hair.

~ Fin ~

You’ll be glad to know that from what I remember, we managed to make it out of the store without further incident.

I'm sorry but my soapbox was getting dusty....

2009-05-22T11:49:00.002-05:00

This should probably be two separate posts but I’m just going to go ahead and combine them so I can get maximum rant-age and so that I don’t end up with two whiney posts in a row because the limited amount of people who do read this would probably stop. I can’t have that! My apologies in advance - stick with me if you can. Remember - these are just my humble opinions but lucky for me I have a venue in which to bring it to the world. Kinda scary eh?

Up first is the – Hey! Stop referring to your kid’s age in months for the love of the little baby jeebus! He’s FIVE!

Ok usually it’s not that bad, but I feel that once your child has reached one year of age, then you need to stop with the months. First of all – I do not feel like I should have to do math in my head and get a brain-strain trying to figure out how the hell old your kid is. Just tell me. It’ll be easier for everyone.

Second – how do you expect your kid to respond to the “how old are you?” question. You want them to answer in months too? Personally I’ve yet to hear that happen but I’m sure its not beyond the realm of possibilities.

Third - I have yet to see one card that says something like "Happy Birthday - You're 24 months!" Nope. Doesn't happen. The cards start at "Happy First Birthday" and go from there. See? Even the greeting card companies that are all about the benjamins don't want to acknowledge your kid in month age.

I’ve polled other, actual parents, on this and pretty much everyone I know feels the same way. This makes me feel like I have a valid point and would kindly ask that all parents with children over the age of 12 months knock if off already. I’m not sure if you’re doing this to be annoying, to further solidify your status as “yuppies”, or because you feel like we need an exact count of just how old your kid is.

Maybe you just can’t believe they are growing up so fast and talking about it in months makes it seem like it’s not happening, because referring to your kid as “years old” is just “too real” for you. Well suck it up buttercup. Everyone else thinks you sound dumb.

The second (and last) issue (thank God right?) – and this will probably get me hate mail. I don’t care. I worked in collections for two years I used to get death threats on a weekly and sometimes daily basis. Do your worst.

I read about this on another blogger’s site. Typically I like what she has to say and I sympathize with her family and their struggles as they have dealt with childhood cancer. I can’t even imagine what this would be like. That’s not the issue.

The issue is that apparently – and Katie Couric is in on this too – today’s children are all delicate and fragile flowers that we need to protect from the “big bad ugly real world”

**Shakes head** I’m just not sure how much longer we can continue to encourage a society in which it’s ok to stick your head in the sand. WAKE UP! If you didn’t notice – the sticking your head in the sand philosophy? Is EXACTLY how we ended up where we are.

Sure – historically speaking, it was time for the economy to be on the down side of a bell curve, but I don’t know that it necessarily would have had to be THIS BAD had people been paying a little bit of attention.

So here’s what Miss Couric (and this blogger) are all up in arms about: In this tough economy everyone is facing hardships (duh) some are worse off than others (right, got that too) health care is expensive and in some cases non-existent (yes I recognize that I am lucky to have affordable health care – yay me!) but the children are suffering!

Um – ok first of all, I cannot even imagine what it would be like to choose between stuff like feeding my kids and getting them medical attention. I agree that that situation is truly horrible. I also can’t imagine suddenly being homeless with or without kids. Again. Horrible. None of this is what bothered me.

What was upsetting was a statement along the lines of “the kids can’t handle all this pressure and stress and anxiety”. Really?? The kids??? Why? Because they can’t get as many video games as they used to? Because maybe mom and dad had to cut the 2,000 channel cable down to basic?? Because the parents surely aren’t under stress and anxiety and pressure. Because they don’t feel the weight of a thousand worlds on their shoulders while trying to make the best of it for themselves and their kids.

Also? Have you even met your grandparents, or, if you’re old enough, your parents?? It’s called the Great Depression people. There were thousands of people lined up for soup. They lived in cardboard shanty towns. Guess what? They also had kids! These kids might have been your grandparents or parents!!

Basically, my first reaction to this situation was – yes, it is hard, but guess what? We have so many more resources then they did back in the 30’s and 40’s. I just don’t feel like people should be using this economic crisis as yet another excuse for future bad behavior on the part of their children. I pretty much guarantee you that once a whole new crop criminals springs up the media will be all “Well you know back in ’09 (2009 that is!) his family’s house was foreclosed on and they had to downsize to an apartment and sell his Xbox. Oh the horrors”

**Ahem** I’m just going to go and push my soapbox back to the closet for awhile.

The Secret comedy of errors

2009-05-21T15:50:00.002-05:00

You know how some people are just naturally really lucky? Like they embody all the practices that the book/movie “The Secret” preaches, but without even really trying? That’s my boyfriend.

For instance: the other day he just casually mentions that he’s sure he can find us a house to rent he’ll just have to look around and he’s sure that something will come. Of course I am immediately assuming we’ll end up living back in the ghetto part of town in some crumbling little house that’s about to wash away in the river. This is why “The Secret” is not working for me.

So the very next day he makes one phone call, we do a quick drive-by, and the landlord, who also happens to live next door wonders over. Much discussion ensues about how we all look so familiar to each other, when we finally realize that 6 months straight of drinking every single day in the very bar our landlord used to own apparently paid off. Well now, I mean not then so much, since I was spending all the money I was making on completely intangible items. That’s neither here nor there now….so anyway the landlord loves us and tells us on the spot that the place is ours.

That’s how we ended up with our super cute, two bedroom home near the river, outside the city limits so we can burn stuff. Oh and did I mention that our landlord is letting us use a washer and dryer she already has for our laundry room, we get an entire shed for storage and she taking money off our rent since the boyfriend is pretty handy and will be doing some work around the house/yard? Yeah.

On an every day level this works for the boyfriend too. He can pretty much be just sitting there and suddenly say he needs something like a black belt or a brown hoodie or whatever and **bam** the very next day he’ll go to Goodwill and it’ll just be sitting there like he personally ordered it. Which, according to “The Secret” he pretty much did.

On the other hand, I’m that girl in the office who always seems to have some sort of crisis or drama going on. For instance: I may spend weeks searching for the perfect black cardigan, only to finally give up and settle on one that I only kinda like and is only kinda what I’m looking for just because I’m so sick of looking. Or when I ended up signing a lease with a slum lord who still owes me $1,200.

Or, this just this morning, I was trying to fix a bracelet that broke some time ago. All it really needed was the clasp glued back onto its end so it wouldn’t go flying off randomly when I wear it. With 10 minutes before I had to leave for work, I break out the Super Glue and gently try and put just a liiiiitle bit on the end of the clasp. Nothing was coming out. I squeeze a bit harder. Still nothing. Squeeze a bit harder still…and *whoosh* it spills out everywhere – including the counter and all over my hands.

I desperately want this bracelet fixed so I keep struggling to attach the end of the clasp to the end of the bracelet and while keeping my fingers in constant motion because I have to be at work in 10 minutes and I’ll be useless if I have to go in there with my hands glued together like Barbie’s unbalanced cousin Frontal Lobe Lobotomy Lisa.

I finally get the clasp all glued on there – and when I say all glued I mean that. When I checked on the bracelet a bit later, the clasp was so covered with glue that now I couldn’t actually get it open to attach it to the bit of chain at the other end and then put it on my wrist. Of course. Then in a flash of desperation, I try and force the clasp open like maybe Super Glue really isn’t that great of a bonding agent after all and, of course, the little lever you pull own to make the claw open…snaps off.

Bracelet set aside I now have to go about trying to get the now dry Super Glue off of my hands. A quick Google search tells me that I need to locate some nail polish with acetone. Super! I’m a girl and I do my nails so I have nail polish remover!

Yeah I have nail polish remover alright. Acetone free nail polish remover. I double check with Google and there are no other options unless I have time to sit and soak my hands in soapy hot water, which I don’t.

Eventually when I stop dinkin around and get my ass to work I locate some nail polish remover with acetone in the bathroom and that seems to do a fairly decent job. Of course the bottle only had like maybe an 1/8 of it left. I couldn’t really be much of a chooser at that point so I worked with it.

Basically while my boyfriend walks around like he wrote “The Secret” my life is a constant comedy of errors. I guess that pretty much mean we balance each other out….right?

Sometimes it's very sad when life imitates art, especially if you consider Mike Judge movies to be art

2009-05-20T14:46:00.003-05:00

By now I would assume that practically everyone on the planet is familiar with that classic office-life move “Office Space” If not, then get thee to a video rental store. Stat! You simply cannot continue kiving without seeing this movie. Cannot. Don’t worry I’ll be here when you get back.

For everyone else…we all remember early on when our “hero” is badgered countless times regarding those damn TPS reports. If nothing similar has ever happened to you – then you are very very lucky.

I am not.

So the other day I go to set up an online product for a customer at El Banco. The next day I get one e-mail from someone named “Arlene” to myself and CC’d to someone named “Jackie”, stating that this customer also needs a personal profile set up in our system. Ok. No big deal. This was at 11:29am.

At 12:56pm the same day, I get yet another e-mail from someone named “Claudia” to myself and CC’d to my manager. This e-mail contains the verbiage from the first e-mail as well as a big long explanation about signing myself up for additional training on the matter.

About an hour after the second e-mail my manager pops in and asks me if I’ve seen the second e-mail. Then she explains what I need to do.

Yes, thank you – I’m pretty sure it’s under control at this point. Also? I need to know about everything from how to reverse a NSF fee to the tax ramifications involved in early IRA withdrawal. Excuse me if I cannot remember every little iota of information regarding everything in between.

I wonder what happens when the people at the top screw up? Who are they getting an initial e-mail from, and then a follow up e-mail, and then a personal visit reminder, from? I think in that situation the senario should reverse its self and those of us on the bottom layer of the totem pole should be sending those out.

But if you smile and think happy thoughts it's just supposed to get automatically better right?

2009-05-15T11:24:00.004-05:00

I may be being a touch overdramatic here, but at this point, between the damn e-coli in the water (Yeah - it totally was - I have proof and it's not very pretty at all) all the recent doctors visits, plain old rude as crap people, and generally shittyness, my life is like one step away from a country song. I'm not going to say what would really top it off because I'm afraid that putting it in print twice (once in a text) will jinx it.

Anyway - here are the crappy events of the last roughly 24ish hours. Judge for yourself:

6:15am - The boyfriend's alarm goes off. So we're off and running. Well he is. I need like another 30 minutes before I'm even partially coherent. How in the hell he manages to jump straight outta bed and starts running around getting ready is beyond me. Although I suppose if all I had to do to get ready was pull on some crappy pants and crappy shirt, run water and gel through my hair and make coffee I could probably be more motivated too.

6:35am - Take the boyfriend to work and return home to continue getting ready.

7:50am - Yay! Blender still works! Raspberry smoothie it is!

9:00am - Door at the J-O-B open. Less than a little thrilled about having to let the people in, but I mean I guess that's fairly inveitable.

9:10am - **SLAM** **SLAM**......**SLAM** **SLAM**......**SLAM** **SLAM**....

9:20am - and some more **SLAM** **SLAM**....**SLAM** **SLAM** This is the lovley sound that our doorS...yeah that's plural..make as people just whip them open and then let them **SLAM** **SLAM** shut. Some days are worse than others. This morning is particularily bad. It seems people are really puttin' some back into opening them. Odd, since the doors are exactly the same and are no heavier than any other day. I guess people must be workin' out....

9:25am - **the screeching sounds of old woman barking away** God DAMN old people are loud as shit. I would imagine this is because they can no longer hear.

9:30am - **old women screeching**

9:35am - Oh good! Now there's like a little town hall meeting in the lobby directly outside of my office. The hell is going on out there? So in addition to **old woman screeching** there's just a general cacophony going on. I'm not sure why El Banco is like the morning meeting place right now (**SLAM** **SLAM** )Especially since there is a restaurant/coffee shop situation directly across the street. I will pay these people to kindly go over there. Like....now.

9:40am - head is pounding. Door is still slamming. People still screeching.

12:00pm - Right before I'm supposed to go to lunch (although at this point it's rather a dumb thing to do anyway since my body is constantly rejecting food) someone walks in. Of course they want to open a new account. Of course.

12:30pm - The guy was really nice - so I feel bad for getting all annoyed initally. Oops. Also? He was a priest. Ugh. Hand me my handbasket...again.

1:30pm - I had a raspberry smoothie, cottage cheese and crackers. Do you think this managed to stay down? NO. Of course not. So now I will enjoy being sick for the entire rest of the day once again.

2:00pm - 4:30pm - The door slamming has pretty much died down and there's no more town hall gatherings in the lobby so yay! However the phone is nuts. What do these people even want? I start snatching up the phone after like a ring and a half just to have mercy on my nerves so I won't have to hear it any more.

4:31pm - We get to lock the doors!! Well actually a minute ago. And had I been paying attention I would have noticed this. Since I did not another customer snuck in under the radar and so now while I'm locking the doors I'm also letting him out. Since I'm doing that, I basically have the door open, while yet another customer moseyes on up and wants to do a cash advance. You have do these inside. I have to let her in. We fall further behind.

4:35pm - We rush around trying to get things closed up. I am exhausted and the phone is still ringing. What is going on? More answering just to shut it the hell up already.

5:00pm - I am more than ready to leave. Luckily I have a FREE microdermabraison appointment scheduled at a spa. Yay! I just need to get home, change, and head over and then it's an hour of nothing but SILENCE. Sweet. Also? The rest of my friend's wedding shower invitations are in. One more thing to cross of that list!

5:35pm - Have a rather blissful drive to the spa. Usually I dread heading downtown around this time. Typically it's a mess of people driving home from work and school and that's just not a situation my blood pressure can deal with right now. Not today! It's pretty clear driving. I don't even get stuck behind or around any motorcycles and/or crotch rockets so BONUS!

5:50pm - I smile at the pretty girl behind the check-in counter at the spa. She looks confused. My stomach is knotting and not because I ate anything recently. They can't find my appointment. I can't even be mad about it because it was free. The recptionist even starts to offer to let me hang around and they can squeeze me in but then as she continutes tapping away on the keyboard realizes there are just no appointments available. She does, however, give me a few free samples and reschedules. Neither of these things is really a replacement for the kind of peace an hour of silence can give you though.

6:00pm - Drive back across town. Of course I am stuck behind/around some guy on a motorcycle who appears as though he is trying to look like he is a motorcycle gang. I don't care about how he looks - I only care that his motorcycle is loud, and made even louder when he randomly decides to rev the engine and be bound and determined to not let me pass him. Also motorcycles smell. My car neither emits a foul oder or is loud. I seriously want to tell his guy to go suck a tailpipe.

6:15pm - Arrive at Hobby Lobby while simultaneously on the phone with best friend. If nothing else she is like the second best thing to having a quiet hour at the spa - she lets me bitch as much as I want and yet still manages to make me laugh. Especially when she tells me that a mutual acquaintance who is generally all high and mighty about her marriage....is getting divorced. Huh...yeah doesn't pay to mock people from your high horse so much now does it?

On another note I find pink acrylic ice for my friend's wedding shower - yay! And the large diamond paper weights - also for the wedding shower - are 50% off!

6:40pm - I go to check out and get the invitiations that were rain checked. I was pretty sure that I already paid for them hence the buying of other things when I had like $17 in my bank account. WRONG! So then I owed money I didn't even have which was fun.

6:45pm - 11:30pm - Pretty uneventful merifully! The boyfriend was organizing his stuff and had vacuumed! (yay!!!) and I got to catch up on "Ugly Betty" AND the "Lost" season finale. Downloaded some new "vehicles" on my Garmin and finalled called it a night. Also on the plus side was my spray dry shampoo worked a LOT better than it did the first time I tried it. Which was good because I was too lazy and tired to actually wash my hair what with all the new vehicle downloading.

5:50am - Too early. **SNOOZE**

6:00am - Ugh. Still to early. **SNOOZE**

6:10am - Ok now I'm behind. Get up!

6:30am - Take the boyfriend to work. I'm still not really awake and he starts telling me all this stuff in the car but my brain isn't engaged yet so I'm confused and so I nod and smile anyway.

7:00am - OMG what am I doing! Still dinking around with my hair. Now I can't find the white t-shirt that goes with like all my work clothes. What is happening??

7:10am - Finally find white shirt. Rush around getting the cats locked away in their room for the day. Get them some food. Race around stuffing everything in my purse. Run back to the cat's room because I forgot my iPod. Race back to the kitchen and shove a bunch of Mt Dew, Ensure (yeah yuck it up - but it stays down!) and race cakes in a bag and run out the door.

7:15am - On the road 15 minutes too late! Why didn't I just get up at 6am?? Stupid.

7:40am - OMG there is a major backup on the beltline. Well of course. Stupid rush hour. Stupid me for not getting up on time!

7:50am- So close to the clinic! I'm at stop light waiting to turn left. The car ahead of me and myself are in the middle of the intersection when it turns yellow. We both speed up to get out of the way and complete the turn. As my car is crossing the path of the traffic coming straight on who also has a yellow light and probably red by now I look over to make sure nobody else is running the light. It appears as though they are all slowing down to a stop.

Suddenly some old guy like decides to gun it straight into my car! Luckily the boyfriend just replaced my front brakes and I'm a pro on the horn. I slam on both at the same time and the old guy comes with in inches of t-boning me. Awesome.

7:55am - Fly past parking ramp...structure? For my doctor's office. Since it's yet another office I haven't been in I wasn't familiar with their parking. Now I have to Do a few U turns including one into the intersection I almost got t-boned in. Awesome.

8:00am - Finally get to the correct ramp/structure? Get registered for the appointment. Do I want to pay my co-pay right now? Um...not really.

8:35am - Frantically text work that I am still with the doctor.

9:15am - Done! Yay. Wait. What's with the weather all of a sudden here? When I left it felt like it was getting warm and was totally sunny. Now it's gray and on the verge of rain. Plus it's cooled way down. Super. Because I didn't bring a jacket. Plus like three windows are open at home. Awesome.

9:25am - Stuck behind some slow ILLINOIS driver going up the on ramp for the beltline. Of course. As we near the beltline - which - I might add - is going at a completely frantic pace the driver slows down even MORE. Awesome. I'm going to die because people from Illinois are complete asshats. The merging is a complete mess wherein I almost get sideswiped because nobody currently on the beltline will move the hell over and the asshat from Illinois is going at a snails pace and also won't move over.

I have a lot of road rage - maybe this is obvious. However, not only was this totally justified, but it's the first time I wanted to pull somone out of their car and just scream at them about not killing the people on the road around you with your complete;u ass backwards ILLINOIS driving methods. Omg.

9:30am - Luckily Jim Gaffigan is on the Bob & Tom show - and has been all morning. I decide to try and breath will enjoying Jim's ruminations on Hot Pockets.

9:45am - Arrive at work. And in one piece!

10:00am - I don't even have my purse off my shoulder before a CSR sends a call to me. Thaaanks. You know what is really helpful? If you own a business - you should know the correct business name! I fail to understand how it's possible not to have this information. Aaaaand we're off!

10:15am - I basically get yelled at because lending law have changed....from 20 years ago! Ya think? Listen lady - there may have been a time when calling up a bank and giving a sob story, bitching about the current bank you are with, then claming to not have only worked in banking for 30 years but at the very bank I work at may have gotten you a lower rate or prehaps they simply opened a drawer full of money and asked you how much you wanted - but now? This is not the case. It's been twenty years. Once I quote you a rate range I don't care if you're Ghandi...there's nothing else I can do.

After this things improved greatly - and I kept down my chocolate Ensure lunch! Yay! Maybe smiling and trying to think happy thoughts does help? Or maybe someone figured I finally suffered enough!

Hey "My Name is Earl" producers...I'll be expecting my royalty check any day now. By the way - you're welcome

2009-05-14T14:58:00.002-05:00

This is probably super creepy to most people, but I’ve been planning my funeral for some time now. I’ve attend a fair amount of funerals now and I’m pretty sure of what I want and don’t want going on at mine. Mainly this includes good music – of MY choosing and no tacky dressers. There will be no “Christmas Sweaters” or any other “holiday sweaters” worn to my funeral. Just no. Honestly, they shouldn’t be worn anywhere, and especially not at my funeral. You shall be clad in all black or you’re not getting in. End of story. So plan accordingly.

So anyway – a few weeks back the boyfriend and I were driving, and we happened to pass a funeral home. Suddenly the best idea ever popped into my head: what if….instead of being all boring and laying in a casket….I was sitting up in a CHAIR to greet people as they walked in? Fantastic! And totally unexpected. But mainly fantastic!

Then last night I was pretty convinced I was going to die, so I reminded the boyfriend about my chair plans, but I told him I guess if he wanted to throw my cello in front of me, that would be ok too. This led to a discussion regarding the use of animatronics to simulate my actual playing of the cello, as well as a cello track playing to enhance the effect. Just so long as the track playing is like Yo-Yo Ma or someone equally amazing. I mean people might as well remember me for the awesome cello player that I was – even if I was never anywhere near that level of good. It’s my funeral and you’ll remember me how I want damn it!

Well in between these two conversations occurring, I happened to randomly catch an episode of “My Name is Earl”. It was fairly uneventful to start, more of the “cross this person off my list and earn some good karma” yada yada…and then….then I saw John Waters. If you don’t know who John Waters is you need to leave now and go figure it out. I’m not going to explain it here because he’s just that awesome that I shouldn’t even need to. Go ahead…I’ll wait.

Ok! Awesome right? I know. Yeah so I see John Waters playing this "creative" funeral director and get this – it’s the same idea I had about mine! At this particular funeral home they set the people up doing the things that they loved in life – like sitting in a Lay-z-Boy, watching “the game” and eating chips. Or sitting at a computer and playing games. Whatever.

This did two things: 1) Scared me into wondering if secretly the producers of “My Name is Earl” have my car bugged and 2) Solidified that fact that sitting in a chair and greeting people at my funeral would, in fact, be, like, the coolest thing ever.

Basically expect my royalty check from “My Name is Earl” any day now. It’s really only fair – especially since I had the idea first….oh wait – I just looked this up and I guess I wasn’t technically first since that episode ran in like 2007. Still…..I think I at least deserve a check to acknowledge my awesomeness at coming up with it on my own!

An informational and unathorized study in summer traffic patterns. Yeah it's pretty much as riveting as it sounds

2009-05-13T15:33:00.008-05:00

I'm going to just say right off the bat here, that if you are from Illinois or Minnesota, or you know someone there, or you just feel really friendly about either state and their respective drivers, then you might want to just stop reading now. Or, actually keep reading and maybe take some notes, because you might learn something. Or, you might send me hate mail. Either way. I just thought you should know.

That said.....I do a lot of driving, especially since all of my doctors are in a city 30-40 minutes away. I spend a lot of time on the interstate. I wish this wasn't the case. This is why: Wisconsin is too damn close to Illinois and Minnesota (see headlines over the winter declaring it Minniconsin - I don't think so).

Typcially, this doesn't bother me - especially when I decide I want to go to Chicago or the Mall of America (because what's better at M of A then no sales taxes on clothes!) Then summer and the traveling season rolls around again, and I get all stabby at the thought of having to drive with those people.

I personally feel like there should be a toll for entering Wisconsin, but only if you are from Illinois. And in the travelin' season - Minnesota. I'm not 100% sure what exactly happens once the border is crossed, but obviously it's no good. No good AT ALL.

It's much like the phenomenon that occurs in Door County where, apparently, all tourists must check their brains once they cross the bridge in Sturgeon Bay. You can pick 'em up on the way out, but, my understanding is, once you cross that bridge you basically lose your mind. Litterally.
Back on task here - **ahem** there are two ways that people from Illinois drive. One way I can deal with because it pretty much mirrors the way I drive. The other is just plain insane.

Method 1: Just drive really fast at all costs. Yeah you'll probably end up riding someone for a bit until you can finally manage to pass them, or, they get the hit and get out of the way. I pretty much drive like this most of the time so I can respect this method. I suspect that these drivers are from the Chicago area. Or former Milwaukee dwellers, because this is also how everyone on the expressway drives.

Method 2: Basically this methody entails driving like the biggest asshat KNOWN TO MANKIND. You pretty much just work really hard at making my blood pressure just completely skyrocket which is fairly hard because I have really really low blood pressure. So good job. This is what it looks like:

Step one: Get in the left lane and act like you are going to pass everyone in the right lane
like you should be doing

Step two: Come up along a semi. This is probably why you got in the left lane in the first
place.

Step three: Once you are along side the semi - rather than speeding up, or at least staying
above 70, slow waaaay down. Like to 65 or slower. Do this completely inexplicibly. It works
best if you not even behind anyone because then you just deepen the mystery. I'm not sure
what you're doing during this time. Examining the possible "art" on the semi bed? Admiring
the mud flaps? Day dreaming about life on the open road??

Step four: Feel pretty smug knowing that you have now just completely enraged the 20 or
so cars that have built up behind you in the meantime. Hahaha - yes, you are king of the
assholes now!

Step five: Once you have finally passed the semi, put on your turn singal indicating that you
now intend to move to the right lane - finally. Do you hear the sound of cheers behind you?

Step six: Leisurely change lanes while the first car behind you practically runs you off the
road because they are so glad you are mercifully getting out of the way.

Step seven: Now that you are in the right lane, and are sure that the car trying to pass you
for the last eternity is going to now try and blow by you at the speed of light they are so mad,
you must speed up to that same speed. More points if you go so fast that you know they
won't make an attempt to keep up.

Bonus step!: If you do this correctly, you can keep passing the car now desperate to pass
YOU, in the right lane because, you know that unlike youself they probably aren't going to go
100 miles an hour(!!) just to play your game. So, the bonus is that pretty soon you are going to
come up on either a semi or much slower moving car in the right lane, so off you go to the left
once again and can now start the entire process over!

Such FUN!!

Minnesota pretty much employs the same driving style as method 2, but are typically less dedicated so they'll piss you off for awhile for sure, but probably not as long. Which is slightly better.

So - as the gas prices rise this tourist season, so may your blood pressure. Enjoy the ride!

It probably would have been easier to just NOT live in a gated community eh?

2009-05-11T16:06:00.001-05:00

I found this rather amusing. I was taking a rather extended detour back to my place on Sunday while I was driving back from Milwaukee, and was out near Lake Geneva. If you don’t know Lake Geneva for it’s tourist-trap shopping/dining then you may know it for the Sugar Shack. Take a moment to think about that one if you still have no clue. Here I’ll give you a minute…and some clues:

1) non-descript building
2) bar-type establishment
3)Out faaaaar away from the actual touristy part of town

Ok – so! I’ve driven this route many, many times, however, Sunday I noticed that there was a large gated drive across the highway. As I sped past I took I peak and sure enough! I could just make out a rather large home down this driveway.

That’s when it occurred to me:

So you live in this either gated community or just a house so large you figure you are important enough to warrant a gate and here’s how you have to tell people to find your place: basically from either direction you come from, the Sugar Shack (italicized for emphasis not any sort of proper titling) will be either on your left or right and our gate is right across from that.

Yep – pretty classy.

Okay universe - you win, now take your ball and go home

2009-05-07T10:46:00.003-05:00

I’ve basically been trying to quit my job for the last two years. Yes, that IS a long time for a job search, and the reasons it’s not working are: time, energy, and money.

Time because, well, I have two jobs so up to three times a week I work 14 hour days and when I do have a chance to do something I want to do my first thought isn’t to run and go check the classifieds or update ye olde resume. Also – I usually have an episode or two of “Lost” to catch up on and, obviously, what’s more important, real life or totally fake life? Exactly – tooooottally fake life

Energy is pretty much the same as “Time” see “14 hour days” as a reference.

Money. First there’s the obvious – postage! For awhile I decided I was too poor to continue to buy stamps so I stopped that. Additionally, when I do mail out a resume, I like to put it in an 8 1/2x11 sized envelope that matches my resume paper and is embossed with a little gold phrase “Do not bend” They are very nice and therefore even MORE expensive to send. Plus, this ties in nicely with “Time” because I don’t have the “Time” to go stand in like at the Post Office and once again I refer you back to “14 hour days”

The second caveat to “Money” is fairly unique for the line of work I want to do. Notice there that “want” is stressed. See, I stupidly majored in music. Just music. Didn’t want to teach, didn’t think performing was going to be paying the bills all the time, so…. I was pretty sure I had a plan though! I also – here’s where I figured the Benjamin’s would be rollin’ in – minored in arts management and advertising. See! Back up plan!!! Here’s what else they don’t tell you: 1) For every job you want so do like 500 other music majors and if there are 501 of you out there guaranteed there are only like 200 jobs (maybe. If you’re lucky). 2) Don’t even think you’re just gonna pop open the classifies or fire up your jobs.com and immediately have like 50 positions to apply for. Nope. You get to pay for your job listings! Oh yes folks! Since artists already make so very much money (that whole “starving” artist thing? Just Kidding!!) clearly, the best option is to make them PAY for it. Oh irony, you’re a fickle bitch, yes?

ANYWAY!! The whole reason I bring this is up this: when I start to really get serious about finding a new job and I make the time and find the energy and scrounge up the money? The Universe comes along and suddenly puts purpose into my otherwise soul-crushing job.

Suddenly, I’m getting the customers I can actually help. I’m making their lives easier. They want to see me. Life is good! Then for awhile I think well hey if this is how it’s going to be than I can deal with this for a bit longer.

Of course eventually it flips again and I’m back to square one. Basically I kind of feel like the Universe is giving me a big bitch slap and is all “Hey! That’s not your path right now!! I’LL let you know when it’s the right time – and now is NOT it. Now! Get to work.” Folks – The Universe has spoken. Or maybe I’m just giving up too easily? Sometimes it’s hard to know when to fight.

Okay okay...NOW I get it!

2009-05-06T15:54:00.005-05:00

I love going to open houses. When I was younger my mom used to drag me to a million of them every Sunday. Allegedly we were thinking of moving, but I’m not sure that that was the entire motivation. Really, open houses are just an excuse to be nosey and poke around other people’s houses. One thing I never understood was why there was always this emphasis on having a super luxurious bathroom and a master bedroom the size of a football stadium. I mean, of course it’s nice to have a large bathroom, and who wouldn’t want nice travertine tiled shower rather than a fiberglass enclosure? Yet I just didn’t get it. It all just seemed like stuff that, while aesthetically pleasing, what more were all these perks doing?

Yet bathrooms with whirlpool tubs the size of small wading pools seemed to make more sense than ginormous master bedrooms. Like who needs an entire separate sitting area? Or what’s with the fireplace? Who’s spending all this time in the bedroom? So much so that it’s more like a studio apartment than it is simply a bedroom. I simply: Did. Not. Get. It.

Then – about a month ago I suddenly got it. The light bulb went off and it was bright. Basically I went from about six years of living alone to being constantly surrounded by people. Constantly. Essentially the only time I’d be alone is when I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed or getting ready in the morning or in the bedroom folding clothes or getting dressed. I’d be standing in which ever room and suddenly realize it was quiet and I was alone. It was NICE. Usually it meant it was the only time during the day that I wasn’t having to talk to, entertain, smile at, yell at, or be talked to, entertained, smiled at or yelled at.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m getting more used to being in constant contact with people, especially since at el banco I now have my own office so that’s become like a little get away too. Sometimes though, you like hearing your own thoughts and just decompressing. Alone.

So that’s it – I just wanted to say that I get it. I get spending tens of thousands of dollars on remodeling what was once a closet of a bathroom or a boring, 4-walled master bedroom. Even though your inner voice can be annoying – it’s nice to be able to at least hear it once in a while.

Deep thoughts from the WC

2009-05-04T16:00:00.002-05:00

So I’m sitting in the bathroom and I know it’s gonna be a little while cuz I had Subway for lunch (see? It was going to be awhile…) and so obviously I’m getting bored what with nothing to read not even any interesting, or any other kind of graffiti on the walls (see! Graffiti IS useful!). I suppose I could have brought my book with me, but someone else in the office does that and it just seems really odd to me I mean we’re at work so you shouldn’t necessarily be camping out in there.

Anyway….there’s this small stack of extra toilet paper rolls on the back of the toilet, you know the ones that corporations buy in bulk and they each come wrapped in their own individual paper wrappers? I reach behind me and get one. I mean something to look at is better than nothing. As I’m staring at it and brushing up on my Spanish reading abilities, I realize something: some guy or gal had to like sit down, at their job, every day and work on designing this thing.

Then they had to go home every day and be all “yeah so I’m designing the wrapping for toilet paper” and nobody would know how to respond because what do you say? I mean you don’t really want to hear all about it and you don’t really feel sorry for them because you have like real problems at your job. Then this person has to present this idea for the wrapper to Georgia Pacific or whoever and they probably don’t like it, so it’s back to the drawing board and like for months this person is just working on designing wrapping for toilet paper. TOILET. PAPER.

I mean, what must those marketing meetings sound like? GP is all “we want it to look nice, not too nice because it’s still toilet paper, but nice enough so that if and when companies leave extras laying around it looks all ‘designer’ and promotes a healthy work environment because now the employees see it and think ‘hey my company cares enough to buy me the good stuff’”

Then the person goes back and works on this some more and like a few weeks later they have to have another meeting about this toilet paper and GP is all “We just don’t think you’re seeing our vision for this wrapper. I mean this is 2 ply paper here man! And it’s made with 20% post-consumer recycled fibers! Do you see it? Do you see our vision?”

Let’s just say I was pretty glad to go back to my desk and think hey – how lucky am I. I have a job in this crazy economy and it has absolutely nothing to do with toilet paper. Except when I have to wipe my ass. Otherwise, not so much.

If it's better than sEx it had better include chocolate!

2009-05-01T16:45:00.001-05:00

Today at work we had a mini potluck which included a homemade better than sex cake. Now when I hear this immediately get ready to have a death by chocolate sort of experience. You know – chocolate cake, with chocolate frosting and topped by more chocolate candy bars. To that I say: BRING. IT. ON!

So imagine my disappointment if you can - ( you probably can’t and that’s ok that’s not entirely your fault) when that was not the case AT ALL. This cake couldn’t have been further away from chocolate if it moved to a remote desert island that had never heard of chocolate. That’s how NOT AT ALL chocolate that it was.

This is what this poser cake consisted of: yellow cake (yellow!) that seemed like it had been soaked in something b/c it was really moist - which is good! Not complaining about that. This was topped with what I initially thought, simply by looking at it, a like lemon pie filling layer. WRONG. Well wrong and right. It was the consistency of lemon pie filling but it wasn’t and it had chunks of pineapple in it. Ok sorry, but, barf. Not because of the pineapple per se, but if you are a texture person such as myself, you don’t want to be happily enjoying a moist, smooth food and suddenly get this moist chunk of food feeling. There is hardly anything worse.

Then on top of this crazy pineapple layer was a crap load of cool whip (and damn you Family Guy I can only hear the following conversation when I say or think or SEE cool whip: “No, no it’s cool wHip…you pronounce the H it’s not silent. Cool w –Hip”) then a bunch of shaved coconut and some chopped walnuts.

This cake was like straight outta the 1950’s. That’s pretty much how I feel about any desert that includes chunks of fruit in the middle and then is topped with cool whip (cool wHip) and nuts and coconut. It’s pretty much the signature of Betty Crocker when her cook books included table etiquette and how to keep a nice looking home for your big strong man.

The point here is that, that….is not better than sex cake. If someone offered me that cake or sex, even if I knew the sex would be pretty bad, I’d still pass on the cake. I really felt like an asshole when I pretty much had to turn my piece on its side and eat from the bottom and then carefully scrape the cool wHip until right before the pineapple. It just wasn’t the same.

I thought maybe the whole chocolate aspect was just a “girl thing” and that for guys maybe a combo of yellow cake, pineapple in a lemon pie filling looking substance, cool wHip, nuts and coconut IS better than sex…but like pretty much everyone in the office was raving about it and I work with only women. I guess I’m missing something. Like having gone through menopause.

Who knew kittens were so versitile?

2009-04-30T16:40:00.004-05:00

In the before times, back when interest rates were in the 5's and you weren't scared to open your mutual fund statements I only went into Goodwill for Halloween attire. Now things have changed. I now go into Goodwill for the incredible savings - assuming you beat out the other eleventymillion people in the same situation (more on the Goodwill conspiracy later)

Anyway! The boyfriend is completely addicted to Goodwill - unlike myself he's always been popping in to check out the merchandise. Recently he got this really fantastic leather coat there that's lined with the most incredibly soft, cream colored lambs-wool like stuff. Except these lambs would have been really pampered lambs because this stuff is SOFT!

So he's been wearing it around at night even though it's fairly warm for this area at this time of year. The following is an actual conversation we had regarding said coat and it's incredible lining:

Me: So the coat feels like wearing kittens? Like my boots feel like putting kittens on your feet?

Boyfriend: Yes, exactly. Except better because I'm not allergic to it.

It's like the first time...which I don't actually remember, but I'm sure it was amazing

2009-04-29T17:12:00.002-05:00

Awhile back here I read a short blog post somewhere else about moments, mainly in pop culture (or I guess only in pop culture) that you would like to relive like it’s the first time it’s happening. Of course this got me thinking and here are the things I came up with:

Watching My So Called Life
Man that show was it! I have burned copies laying around my apartment now, and when I decide I need more flannel and black eyeliner in my life or just some good old fashioned leaning, I pop one in and it’s still amazing. I still wish I could achieve the same hair color that Angela managed too. I suppose that’s easier to do with a team of highly paid stylists as opposed to that crazy hair dye/hair mouse combo that made briefly back in the day.

Hearing Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit
The very first time I heard that song I was 100% certain that this was the best band in the world. I was right.

Woodstock ‘99
Wasn’t there, but I did own the 2-disk CD set! I just remember that it was crazy and muddy and nothing else like it has happened since. It won’t either because those jerks completely ruined it what with the violence and drugs and crazy over-priced water. THANKS!

Watching my first Satuday Night Live episode
I was watching this at a pretty young age. My parents used to think they were being sly and order burgers and fries from Charlie’s (which, FYI has the best burgers and fries on the planet and I don’t even eat meat anymore. Well much…) late when I was supposed to be sleeping. I knew those burgers were coming though and hey! What do ya know! I was awake when they came! Which also means that in addition to getting to eat the greatest burger and fries in the world, I got to watch some of the best episodes of SNL evar! We’re talkin’ Eddie Murphy, Gilda Radner, the Coneheads, Dan Akroid. Yeahhhh – that’s the stuff!

Making my first mix tape
Yeah that’s right kiddo’s I said tape and I meant it! This was back in ancient times when not only having a Beta AND VHS player made you the coolest person on the block (we only had VHS…sadly) but having a dual cassette player meant the world was in your hands! It was also its own art form since you’d have to sit by the radio, like, forever OMG! (except we didn’t say O. M. G. we took the looong way) and have cat like reflexes in order to hit record at the exact right moment and then race back to hit stop at the exact right moment. So not only was making a mix tape an art, but it was also an aerobic exercise. See? This is why kids are so fat now-a-days.

Getting our first home computer
Holy crap pixels never looked so good! When my family finally got a computer it was the solid-as-a-rock Apple IIGS. Livin’ large ya’ll…livin’ large. Until that point I was used to having to type in DOS commands on my friend’s practically stone age computer while we attempted to move this guy through a house like some sort of maze or something but every time we’d get to a certain point he just refused to obey the DOS and it was annoying but you’d keep playing because that was still cooler then your dusty Atari!
Yeah – this was also the time when LOADS of software was still free and floppy disks the size of dinner plates reined supreme.

It's official, I've killed something with my big fat ass

2009-04-24T16:39:00.001-05:00

My office is somehow swarming with ants. It’s gross. Plus now I look completely crazy. It’s like when someone tells you that their sister’s brother-in-law’s ex-finance’s daughter’s friend got lice and suddenly you’re itching your scalp for the next week? Yeah – that’s how it is with the ants. I’m itchy because I know that they are there. I spend much of my time on a crusade to squish ants and/or swat them off myself or various areas on or around my desk. Basically, I look like I’ve turned into a meth addict since I sit in my office itching and swatting at things nobody else can see except me or unless you’re reeeaaaally close to my desk. I’ve pretty much turned into the hottest banker EVAR. Obviously.

Apparently now, in my battle to be victorious over these amazingly resistant insects, they have decided to go all kamikaze and upped the game to include suicide missions. Essentially this involves sitting on my chair and waiting to see the shadow of my ass, at which time they know that the end is near. While it sounds like this is more a win for me and less so for the ants, you would be wrong. In fact I wouldn’t have ever caught on to their little strategy except that recently I’ve started changing into my gym clothes in the bathroom at work.

This really means nothing except as I was folding up my pants to put them in my bag, I noticed something on the back pocket. Upon closer inspection it appeared to be a dead ant. A dead ant….ON MY PANTS! Oooo, yes how very clever. So not only do I sit in my office all day looking monkey-shit insane while swatting at “nothing”, randomly stabbing at “nothing” on my desk and itching the entire time, but now I get to walk around all day at work with a dead ant on my pants! It’s pretty much only a matter of time before they realize the true beauty of this scenario and lay in wait in droves on my chair. Because obviously a horde of dead ants stuck to my pants would be even better…for them anyway.

On the plus side, I can now actually say I’ve killed something with my ass, which, really, I never would have thought was possible. Not that my ass isn’t capable of killing…clearly…but because I never imagined a situation where I would get the chance. Still…ants: 1; Me: 0.

Well This Certainly Isn't Going as Planned!

2009-04-23T10:42:00.003-05:00

Originally I started this blog so that I could post the ideas that stike me while I'm supposed to be working. Othewise they may or may not be written and if they are they usually sit in my e-mail waiting to be edited until such a time when I either delete it or post it anyway on my MySpace blog and it's almost not even relavant anymore.

I wanted to start posts over here though with past posts from my MySpace blog. Yet the only time I have time to access my MySpace blog is at work, which my company has blocked because apparently they feel that were you to have access to MySpace you would cease being productive. Little do they know that I've since come up with hundreds of new ways to stay unproductive. So I still win.

This isn't the only deterrant though. After realizing that I probably wasn't going to be taking the necessary time to repost MySpace posts here I thought maybe this could be the blog where I address all the nasty issues (hey - head out of the gutter people!!) that I can't on MySpace since people would inevidable realize who I was talking about (possibly them!) and get upset. While it's nice to vent, I don't want to risk ticking anybody else off either. Then I lose.

THEN I thought hey! This could become the place where I basically hold Alanon meetings for myself and work though those issues. But, I mean, how depressing is that! First of all - who wants to read the depressed rantings of well, me? Second - I don't think I want to put that kind of negativity out in the universe. There's already enough out there and I doubt I need to add to it.

Basically what it comes down to is that I want this to be as much fun as I think my MySpace blog is (most of the time), and I want people to want to read this. And I want to eventually break the news to everyone else that I have this thing going on over here and they should come check it out.

Here's the plan: I'm just going to move forward as if this blog has been existing for some time...and if I ever get around to posting old MySpace posts on here then yay me! If not...so what?

Enjoy!

Alright - time to get this party started - hey take that lamp shade off your head!

2009-02-26T11:00:00.000-06:00

Greetings! After about 2 or 3 years of fairly regular MySpace blog posts I've decided it's time to expand - afterall everyone needs some breathing room right? AND if I'm being completely honest, I tend to get most of my super spectacular must be published RIGHT NOW blog ideas while I'm at work - and do you ya think I can access MySpace at work? Nope. I can't even Twitter. It's like God hates me. Or thinks I need to be a more productive employee....huh. At any rate! Guess what I can access at work? Oh yeah! So welcome....if you've followed my MySpace blog - many thanks. While I intend to keep that one up - so as not to disappoint my many adoring fans **ahem** this will give me the opportunity to reach you quicker and more frequently. I know you're excited. I am too. Welcome - and please to enjoy!